Mr Carrillo died.
He fell asleep in his big old soft recliner and never woke up. At ninety-four years of age it seemed like a pretty good way to go; surrounded by the sun, his garden and his loving wife of seventy plus years.
Roger said on their last visit, the first weekend of May, that Grampa was complaining he couldn't climb a step ladder any more to trim his trees that the last time he climbed up the fire department had to come get him down. Roger said that he was very frail and spent a lot of his time dozing -- in the sun. During the visit Roger took a wonderful collection of photographs of all of them; together and separate, with Connor and without, sitting and standing, smiling and hugging. When a person dies at ninety-four it's hard to be sad but hard not to feel sad also.
He died loved. It seems like a pretty good way to go.
The death of a beloved person brings many emotions tumbling to the surface and I've reflected back on my own emotional dance with death over the years. One death and then another made me grateful for not having any residual guilt, so much so that I started trying to live my life as guilt free as I could. This was a good decision for me. Living with out guilt was a gift from God at first, an accident, but then slowly and very consciously I chose a path trying to live as guilt free as possible. This is a gift I try to give to myself every day.
I am stunned sometimes at the amount of discontent, anger, rage, hatred loose in the world. Where does it come from? Why does "anti" versus "for" create such a vortex. Why do my dreams have to die so yours can flourish? Is a gay marriage going to unhinge the balance of the cosmos? In the big picture does it matter? Is my bacon sandwich really a sin?
And all the weaker cousins of discontent/anger/rage/hatred, like mocking, cynicism or caustic humor at the expense of another. A plaid shirt is redneck? My accent is humorous? My weight is unforgivable? My car is substandard? The other day if I heard it once I heard it dozens of times "that's ugly" everything from a child to boots. Shopping at Walmart or Target is low class? When I breastfed my first baby I was damned, now you are damned if you don't breastfeed. Leather shoes, whale meat, wind turbines -- somebodies day is ruined over these facts.
So to everybody whose day I have ruined due to lousy taste, accent, beliefs, car, kids, goals or dreams -- please forgive me. I'm trying to live my life guilt free.
Oh, yeah and I'm trying to live my life with as much love as I can.
Surrounded by love seems like a pretty good way to go.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
p.s.
I meant to add this also from Pleasant Hill Raymond:
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
Yertle the Turtle and Rain
Yertle the Turtle was banned in a community in Canada as being too political. Too political? It seems as though the school district was having a labor dispute and some part of Dr Suess' book was visible through a labor representative's car window on school property.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Outward Gazing and Inward Gazing
Outward Gazing:
Whole lotta loving going on when it is Connor playdate. I put two pieces of candy, a banana, and a wet nap in his Thursday treat tin. He ignored the candy and banana and grabbed the wet nap and went into wet nap bliss -- I think. He wanted to clean the spot off the peeled banana, the dark shadow that was part of the picture in his picture book, his chin, hands, toys and me. When we went outside he told me I couldn't sit down until he ran upstairs for his sunglasses and retrieved his wet nap to clean the chairs. Oh, he is a fussy one.
I think I will take him another wet nap next week.
I've decided Connor is part meerkat -- the way his head goes up and swivels like it is on a hydraulic lift. I have seen this action before in other animals; baby birds in nests, rabbits in fields. It must be a survival instinct of the weak. Dogs will perk their ears while cats will scan with their eyes. Connor does keep an eye on the action.
Connor got upset with Brandy just like she was a sibling. He went to his daddy and complained, "Brandy barked at me."
It's hard to be a Granny when you can't make daddy behave. If I ask Connor a question, real or rhetorical, Roger answers.
Roger has a trailer hitch but no trailer yet.
I received my income tax and gave it to my car in appreciation of it's faithful service. New tires, master cylinder, tie-rods, and an alignment, now that baby ought to purr for a few more thousand miles.
Rain in Spring is better than rain in Winter. The pink rhododendrons are blooming.
Inward Gazing:
I read a story about a man who goes to construction sites and digs up the little trees that are getting ready to be bulldozed over and then replants them.
Where does that kind of inspiration come from? Is that up-lifting or inspiring? What is the difference? Is one action and one emotion?
What makes people passionate? What makes spirits soar and souls sing? Beauty, art, music, nature, skills, quotes, adventures? I asked Ian what he was inspired by and he said Mom. I asked Roger and he said artistic and athletic feats. I asked Christian and he said he doesn't get inspired.
For right now I'm going to go with anything that makes me think deeply, anything that changes me by the experience, anything that makes me feel renewed -- I think I am back to Connor.
I finished the Tiger book, read The War of the Rats, had lunch with Claire and all my chores are done. The computer glitch I thought was my fault and it was keeping me off the blog was actually the blog renewing itself, upgrading, so now I am back on the blogging track.
Not exactly inspiring but very very comfortable. Back on track with my car, blog, computer, Connor and inward gazing.
Whole lotta loving going on when it is Connor playdate. I put two pieces of candy, a banana, and a wet nap in his Thursday treat tin. He ignored the candy and banana and grabbed the wet nap and went into wet nap bliss -- I think. He wanted to clean the spot off the peeled banana, the dark shadow that was part of the picture in his picture book, his chin, hands, toys and me. When we went outside he told me I couldn't sit down until he ran upstairs for his sunglasses and retrieved his wet nap to clean the chairs. Oh, he is a fussy one.
I think I will take him another wet nap next week.
I've decided Connor is part meerkat -- the way his head goes up and swivels like it is on a hydraulic lift. I have seen this action before in other animals; baby birds in nests, rabbits in fields. It must be a survival instinct of the weak. Dogs will perk their ears while cats will scan with their eyes. Connor does keep an eye on the action.
Connor got upset with Brandy just like she was a sibling. He went to his daddy and complained, "Brandy barked at me."
It's hard to be a Granny when you can't make daddy behave. If I ask Connor a question, real or rhetorical, Roger answers.
Roger has a trailer hitch but no trailer yet.
I received my income tax and gave it to my car in appreciation of it's faithful service. New tires, master cylinder, tie-rods, and an alignment, now that baby ought to purr for a few more thousand miles.
Rain in Spring is better than rain in Winter. The pink rhododendrons are blooming.
Inward Gazing:
I read a story about a man who goes to construction sites and digs up the little trees that are getting ready to be bulldozed over and then replants them.
Where does that kind of inspiration come from? Is that up-lifting or inspiring? What is the difference? Is one action and one emotion?
What makes people passionate? What makes spirits soar and souls sing? Beauty, art, music, nature, skills, quotes, adventures? I asked Ian what he was inspired by and he said Mom. I asked Roger and he said artistic and athletic feats. I asked Christian and he said he doesn't get inspired.
For right now I'm going to go with anything that makes me think deeply, anything that changes me by the experience, anything that makes me feel renewed -- I think I am back to Connor.
I finished the Tiger book, read The War of the Rats, had lunch with Claire and all my chores are done. The computer glitch I thought was my fault and it was keeping me off the blog was actually the blog renewing itself, upgrading, so now I am back on the blogging track.
Not exactly inspiring but very very comfortable. Back on track with my car, blog, computer, Connor and inward gazing.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Two Questions
Is fire chasing Jeff?
-- and --
Are tornado's chasing Cathy? Didn't one chase her to Branson? Didn't one go east of Dallas when she was in Tyler? Was Cathy in Norman today?
Just wondering.
-- and --
Are tornado's chasing Cathy? Didn't one chase her to Branson? Didn't one go east of Dallas when she was in Tyler? Was Cathy in Norman today?
Just wondering.
One Perfect Day
After I received the advertisement, the urgent advertisement, warning me that being hard of hearing leads to dementia and Alzheimer's I figured I am doomed, so what the heck just enjoy the day.
Up early for a bit of Facebook time, computer time, making list time, and several cups of coffee.
A delicious leftover breakfast and when I say leftover, I mean leftovers of leftovers. The leftover roast from Easter Sunday's French dips became a savory Beef Pot Pie, which two days later became my delicious leftover breakfast.
The Sun came out with shirt sleeve weather, finally, and brilliant snow covered mountains and shimmering water. The absolute best of the Pacific Northwest showing some color at last.
Ian up early, well I had already had time to get up early, have a nap and get up again, but it was early for Ian.
Hair cuts -- mine was perfect cowlick and all, and Ian didn't complain about his.
Grocery shopping with a QFC run; meats and treats. My freezer was getting pretty bare and lucky me QFC was having a meat sale. I swear the chocolate cake was for Ian.
Library for a quick pick-up of waiting items.
Pharmacy for an early pick-up of meds -- and they were already done.
Lunch at Ivar's by the Ferry dock; perfect fish and chips, perfect french fries, perfect perfect clam chowder. More sunshine, mountains and water and Ian to make the food run and the trash run. Does it get any better? Well, yes it does.
I had Ian to haul in and put away all the groceries. Ian, does it get any better? Well, yes it does. He did the laundry and I didn't. I swear the chocolate cake was for him.
Movie time; The Descendants a wonderful, wonderful film.
A special delivery to my Little Chef Friend Amanda. I had promised her some fabric for the doll house she is making for her daughters, so instead of taking it to work for her to haul home on the bus, I did a drive by and gave her a bushel basket of fabric and the bushel basket. I included two Barbies from Ian's old collection with a shoe box of Barbie outfits. Jasmine and Snow White now have a new home and I have one square meter less stuff.
The playdate with The Connorman was a bit -- busy. I think he is still reeling from an Easter sugar high. He tried to lock me out on the patio, in a week or two I think he will be able to succeed. It's a good thing I have a secure access. I will be in real trouble when he can lock both the front and the back door. Or I won't go outside to smoke anymore.
The day care teacher said he hadn't got along with his fellow playmates at all until after his nap.
When I was fastening him in his car seat I nuzzled him and said I love you. He said you are too loud granny.
All afternoon he kept wanting things that I told him he would have to wait and ask his mommy about. Things like M & M's, chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs, jelly beans, peeps, finally he heard the garage door open and ran to the back door, when Roger entered he threw himself down and said you aren't mommy. Yep a bit busy.
Roger and Stephanie were bubbling with good will and summer plans are shaping up. California in May, Colorado in July, a summertime cruise on the Fortener's boat sometime in between. They are going to forgo the Ragnar run this year to go to Stephanie's family reunion. They were going to go look at a camper so I came home a bit early.
Dinner at home was my QFC treat; a croissant and fresh tomato sandwich, perfect, perfect, perfect.
A first glimpse of a barely blooming rhododendron bush -- purple. A long chatty visit with Kathy. A bit of the Tiger book I'm reading. Some more Easter dinner left-overs -- fresh strawberries and pineapple, and no chocolate cake, I swear.
The only thing missing from my two son day was a Christian connection, but two out of three ain't bad. Besides, his left-over sparkle from Easter is still lingering. He talked, laughed, ate, entertained Connor, talked politics, work, movies, books, and music. He turned me onto some truly amazing music which I will now share with you.
Go to YouTube and watch Songs Around the World; Playing for Change especially Stand by Me and One Love they might bring a tear to your eye.
One perfect day. Life in the simple lane.
Up early for a bit of Facebook time, computer time, making list time, and several cups of coffee.
A delicious leftover breakfast and when I say leftover, I mean leftovers of leftovers. The leftover roast from Easter Sunday's French dips became a savory Beef Pot Pie, which two days later became my delicious leftover breakfast.
The Sun came out with shirt sleeve weather, finally, and brilliant snow covered mountains and shimmering water. The absolute best of the Pacific Northwest showing some color at last.
Ian up early, well I had already had time to get up early, have a nap and get up again, but it was early for Ian.
Hair cuts -- mine was perfect cowlick and all, and Ian didn't complain about his.
Grocery shopping with a QFC run; meats and treats. My freezer was getting pretty bare and lucky me QFC was having a meat sale. I swear the chocolate cake was for Ian.
Library for a quick pick-up of waiting items.
Pharmacy for an early pick-up of meds -- and they were already done.
Lunch at Ivar's by the Ferry dock; perfect fish and chips, perfect french fries, perfect perfect clam chowder. More sunshine, mountains and water and Ian to make the food run and the trash run. Does it get any better? Well, yes it does.
I had Ian to haul in and put away all the groceries. Ian, does it get any better? Well, yes it does. He did the laundry and I didn't. I swear the chocolate cake was for him.
Movie time; The Descendants a wonderful, wonderful film.
A special delivery to my Little Chef Friend Amanda. I had promised her some fabric for the doll house she is making for her daughters, so instead of taking it to work for her to haul home on the bus, I did a drive by and gave her a bushel basket of fabric and the bushel basket. I included two Barbies from Ian's old collection with a shoe box of Barbie outfits. Jasmine and Snow White now have a new home and I have one square meter less stuff.
The playdate with The Connorman was a bit -- busy. I think he is still reeling from an Easter sugar high. He tried to lock me out on the patio, in a week or two I think he will be able to succeed. It's a good thing I have a secure access. I will be in real trouble when he can lock both the front and the back door. Or I won't go outside to smoke anymore.
The day care teacher said he hadn't got along with his fellow playmates at all until after his nap.
When I was fastening him in his car seat I nuzzled him and said I love you. He said you are too loud granny.
All afternoon he kept wanting things that I told him he would have to wait and ask his mommy about. Things like M & M's, chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs, jelly beans, peeps, finally he heard the garage door open and ran to the back door, when Roger entered he threw himself down and said you aren't mommy. Yep a bit busy.
Roger and Stephanie were bubbling with good will and summer plans are shaping up. California in May, Colorado in July, a summertime cruise on the Fortener's boat sometime in between. They are going to forgo the Ragnar run this year to go to Stephanie's family reunion. They were going to go look at a camper so I came home a bit early.
Dinner at home was my QFC treat; a croissant and fresh tomato sandwich, perfect, perfect, perfect.
A first glimpse of a barely blooming rhododendron bush -- purple. A long chatty visit with Kathy. A bit of the Tiger book I'm reading. Some more Easter dinner left-overs -- fresh strawberries and pineapple, and no chocolate cake, I swear.
The only thing missing from my two son day was a Christian connection, but two out of three ain't bad. Besides, his left-over sparkle from Easter is still lingering. He talked, laughed, ate, entertained Connor, talked politics, work, movies, books, and music. He turned me onto some truly amazing music which I will now share with you.
Go to YouTube and watch Songs Around the World; Playing for Change especially Stand by Me and One Love they might bring a tear to your eye.
One perfect day. Life in the simple lane.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Lottery Fever and Mary's Facebook
I noticed something about lottery fever; it was interesting listening to people describe, in detail, what they would do with the money. A certain dream fever was unleashed. There was a smattering of cars, homes, travel, but generally the dreams were pretty modest. No one talked about climbing Everest or going to Hollywood and making a movie or paying for a medical education. Fascinating, but the most fascinating part was the lack of greed.
Folks were talking about what they would do for others; their parents, their kids, their friends. Everybody I talked to would give me some of their winnings. I guess that's why I never actually bought a ticket, I didn't need to, or I was just too lazy to go inside someplace and plunk down my dollar, or I no longer have dreams that lottery money can buy. I told one woman I wouldn't know what to do with millions of dollars and she answered she was perfectly willing to spend the rest of her life trying to figure that out.
All those unleashed dreams of good will has to fill the world with a little bit of afterglow. At least, it can't hurt.
Mary put on Facebook this quote from Daniel Dennett, an evolutionary biologist, and since I do believe in genetics -- passionately, I'm segueing from lottery to luck:
Freedom Evolves:
Every living thing is, from a cosmic perspective, incredibly lucky to be alive. Most, 90 percent and more, of all organisms that have ever lived have died without viable offspring, but not a single one of your ancestors, going back to the dawn of life on Earth, suffered that normal misfortune. You spring from an unbroken line of winners going back millions of generations, and those winners were in every generation, the luckiest of the lucky, one out of a thousand or even a million. So however unlucky you may be on occasion today. Your presence on the planet testifies to the roll luck has played in your past.
Thanks Mary.
Anyone remember Dory Previn's song The Empress of China? It's the same theory with a sadder ending, but then so was Dory.
I remember when Stephanie was so ready for a child and Roger was dragging his um... feet, so to speak. I told him Stephanie not only wants a child for herself, but also, it's hard to resist 26,000 years of biological drive. I wasn't smart enough then to think back to the dawn of life on Earth.
Our ancestors didn't get shot in the Sherwood Forest, didn't drown after a canoe tip over, didn't get eaten by a saber-tooth tiger, hanged by a Salem judge, nailed to a cross, lost at sea, freeze during a glacial age, or hit by a meteor.
Mom and dad were lusty, so I guess we come from a long line of lusty sons a bitches. Lucky us.
That of course hasn't protected us from broken bones. I don't know where this came from but my mind filled with all our broken bones. Everything from dad's back to James clavicles, to wrists, arms, legs, shoulders, ankles. Josephine broke everything from the pelvis down, but then that might occur if you step in front of a moving vehicle. For years we joked about how James seemed to take all the families broken bones like some kind of bone voodoo doll. We can't say that any more, so remind me of your broken bones. What have you broken? Anyone break a pinkie finger?
Somewhere in Tennessee a customer lives on Light Pink Road. How lucky am I to live in the same world with Light Pink Road? And Jane sent me some Vera Bradley jumbo binder clips just because. And Connor is coming over Easter, so I bought a chocolate bunny, got out some bunny books and stickers and am planning a balloon surprise if Christian cooperates. He mastered balloon creations a long time ago, just after he mastered juggling and before mastering skateboarding.
I read The Sibling Effect, pretty interesting, especially due to the fact that I am rich in siblings, but somehow I think it missed the heartbeat of siblings of our sort. It didn't address poverty much, or families with lots of siblings, and there was too much evidence to disprove what he had just given evidence for. Sometimes science sucks.
I also read A Visit from the Goon Squad for book club. I loved the Pulitzer Prize winning book, but where the jacket talked about Egan captures the undertow of self-destruction that we all must either succumb to; the basic human hunger for redemption...blah, blah, blah, I just felt like it was people accepting their life. ...And there wasn't enough family in it. People go through life with family around, parents and siblings.
I haven't seen a great movie lately, any suggestions?
Final thought of the day: I saw a truck heading up I-5 with the company name of Nancy Baer. I asked myself, in the manly world of trucking how many times do you see a woman's name emblazoned on the side? And that made me wonder just how many women drivers are out there in this great big beautiful world?
We aren't so limited as folks, and the world is actually huge.
Happy Easter to all you lucky folks and thanks mom and dad.
Folks were talking about what they would do for others; their parents, their kids, their friends. Everybody I talked to would give me some of their winnings. I guess that's why I never actually bought a ticket, I didn't need to, or I was just too lazy to go inside someplace and plunk down my dollar, or I no longer have dreams that lottery money can buy. I told one woman I wouldn't know what to do with millions of dollars and she answered she was perfectly willing to spend the rest of her life trying to figure that out.
All those unleashed dreams of good will has to fill the world with a little bit of afterglow. At least, it can't hurt.
Mary put on Facebook this quote from Daniel Dennett, an evolutionary biologist, and since I do believe in genetics -- passionately, I'm segueing from lottery to luck:
Freedom Evolves:
Every living thing is, from a cosmic perspective, incredibly lucky to be alive. Most, 90 percent and more, of all organisms that have ever lived have died without viable offspring, but not a single one of your ancestors, going back to the dawn of life on Earth, suffered that normal misfortune. You spring from an unbroken line of winners going back millions of generations, and those winners were in every generation, the luckiest of the lucky, one out of a thousand or even a million. So however unlucky you may be on occasion today. Your presence on the planet testifies to the roll luck has played in your past.
Thanks Mary.
Anyone remember Dory Previn's song The Empress of China? It's the same theory with a sadder ending, but then so was Dory.
I remember when Stephanie was so ready for a child and Roger was dragging his um... feet, so to speak. I told him Stephanie not only wants a child for herself, but also, it's hard to resist 26,000 years of biological drive. I wasn't smart enough then to think back to the dawn of life on Earth.
Our ancestors didn't get shot in the Sherwood Forest, didn't drown after a canoe tip over, didn't get eaten by a saber-tooth tiger, hanged by a Salem judge, nailed to a cross, lost at sea, freeze during a glacial age, or hit by a meteor.
Mom and dad were lusty, so I guess we come from a long line of lusty sons a bitches. Lucky us.
That of course hasn't protected us from broken bones. I don't know where this came from but my mind filled with all our broken bones. Everything from dad's back to James clavicles, to wrists, arms, legs, shoulders, ankles. Josephine broke everything from the pelvis down, but then that might occur if you step in front of a moving vehicle. For years we joked about how James seemed to take all the families broken bones like some kind of bone voodoo doll. We can't say that any more, so remind me of your broken bones. What have you broken? Anyone break a pinkie finger?
Somewhere in Tennessee a customer lives on Light Pink Road. How lucky am I to live in the same world with Light Pink Road? And Jane sent me some Vera Bradley jumbo binder clips just because. And Connor is coming over Easter, so I bought a chocolate bunny, got out some bunny books and stickers and am planning a balloon surprise if Christian cooperates. He mastered balloon creations a long time ago, just after he mastered juggling and before mastering skateboarding.
I read The Sibling Effect, pretty interesting, especially due to the fact that I am rich in siblings, but somehow I think it missed the heartbeat of siblings of our sort. It didn't address poverty much, or families with lots of siblings, and there was too much evidence to disprove what he had just given evidence for. Sometimes science sucks.
I also read A Visit from the Goon Squad for book club. I loved the Pulitzer Prize winning book, but where the jacket talked about Egan captures the undertow of self-destruction that we all must either succumb to; the basic human hunger for redemption...blah, blah, blah, I just felt like it was people accepting their life. ...And there wasn't enough family in it. People go through life with family around, parents and siblings.
I haven't seen a great movie lately, any suggestions?
Final thought of the day: I saw a truck heading up I-5 with the company name of Nancy Baer. I asked myself, in the manly world of trucking how many times do you see a woman's name emblazoned on the side? And that made me wonder just how many women drivers are out there in this great big beautiful world?
We aren't so limited as folks, and the world is actually huge.
Happy Easter to all you lucky folks and thanks mom and dad.
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