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Mamaw, my paternal grandmother is in her 90s, and last year, my siblings and their spouses convinced her she would be much happier in an apartment complex "in town" (Henderson) especially for seniors, rather than in her house in Spottsville, where she was becoming increasingly isolated. It's been a fantastic decision -- Mamaw is back in her element, with lots and lots of interaction with other people all day. Her apartment is filled with all of her own furniture and other favorite things. And she gets to see her family even more, since she's so much closer to them all.
I was on the phone with her recently and she was going on and on about how busy she is, how much she's enjoying her days. But when I asked her if she was singing loud at the church services, she whispered into the phone, "Oh, no, I don't want anyone to know that I sing. Then I'll have to lead the singing. I keep that secret." Mamaw was a preacher's wife, and lead the singing for years and years at various churches and Vacation Bible Schools. She wants to stay retired. So, whatever you do, don't tell anyone at Pleasant Pointe in Henderson, Kentucky that Mamaw can sing!
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My friend Erica fosters cats for a nonprofit organization. She posts videos of the cats she's fostering, usually interacting with her own cat, an orange Tom cat named Sparky. Here's one of my favorites. My theory: Sparky thinks he's running a kitten Bed & Breakfast. I've never had a cat that would be so generous with guest cats.
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This is how I feel about both versions of "We are the world."
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The inventor of
the Easy Bake Oven died. I wanted an Easy Bake Oven so badly when I was a little girl. I thought it brought complete happiness and fulfillment. Because, you know, I was 7 or so. That's how kids think.When I finally got one, I beside myself. For probably a full day. I probably only got to use it twice -- it requires adult supervision, and it wasn't always easy to schedule that.
Ofcourse, all I really needed was to have an adult help me use our regular stove to bake cakes and cookies -- it would have had the same effect. In fact, it would have lasted a lot longer.
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I took my first truly solo motorcycle ride! (no Stefan escort - he was in L.A.). It was an entirely sunny day and very warm for February, so I felt like it was time. So, I rode more than 70 miles, from Canby to Silver Falls State Park and back, and met these biker dudes at the halfway mark. It was a gorgeous ride. My hands were exhausted, because I had gripped the handle bars so tightly. I was terrified! An Africa Twin rider nearby was my emergency number, in case anything went wrong. At last, I feel like I can ride my motorcycle to run errands, maybe even to go to Portland. But I have a lot to work on...
Once again, I longed to live in Silverton. It's the only place in Oregon that feels like it could be "home." It's a charming city with beautiful houses and landscape that isn't flat and brown. It feels like a real community (unlike Canby). Sadly, it's too far from Stefan's job (and that job in Portland that I'll be getting any day now, right?) to be a feasible choice.
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Stefan is enjoying his first ever Girl Scout cookies.
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Albi is doing great. Fully recovered from surgery, it seems to me. I recently found out her name means "my heart" in Arabic. I believe that's where her name comes from, not the village in France.
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I'm on a discussion group for agencies that work to create education and job opportunities for people with disabilities. A lot of people on the group are people with disabilities themselves. Back in 2005, when The Ringer starring Johnny Knoxville came out, I was surprised to find that most people on the group said the movie wasn't offensive, that it treated people with mental disabilities as, well, people, not super heros or teddy bears. They all pretty much said the same thing: we thought this movie was going to be offensive until we saw it.
Five years later, I finally got around to seeing it myself. I was delighted! People with mental disabilities as people?!?!? Fantastic! And the ongoing commentary on how people without disabilities treat people in Special Olympics -- awesome. The actors with Down's Syndrome were awesome in particularly -- they got "the moments" better than anyone. And how cool are "The Kids of Widney High"?!?
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Since moving back to the USA almost a year ago, I'm taken aback at what percentage of TV commercials here are fear-based.
Buy this home alarm system because scary men are always looking for ways to break into your house.
Buy Life Alert because you might fall down in your house and die alone.
The IRS is going to take everything you own, so hire us to keep the evil government away from you.
If you worked before 1970 you are going to die of asbestos poisoning, so sue before you die.
And on and on. It's so depressing. I had no idea the USA was so terrified of absolutely everything. No wonder our neighbors don't talk to us.
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Please cross your fingers or pray to the deity of your choice that the Census Bureau hires me. Or that my interview at a nonprofit-that-shall-remain-nameless goes well. In more than 12 months of looking, I've had five interviews. I really need a break!
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The receptionist at the organization where I worked in Afghanistan was diligently trying to learn English when I was there, and would come to me almost every day to grade her English homework. She told me once in very broken English that she loved to travel outside of Afghanistan because then she didn't have to cover her head. She was so FIESTY. I adored her. She's my friend on FaceBook, though she rarely posts in English. Yesterday, she posted a video from YouTube on her status update, of people signing the song "Imagine", with the lyrics in her status as well. And I wept... If that song can strike a chord in Afghanistan, then there's hope for the country.
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Keep up with those efforts to debunk those silly email and Facebook myths! Before you forward an email or repost a status message that is warning about some awful thing or that sounds too good to be true, be a good Netizen and do the neighborly thing - make sure it isn't a myth. No excuses not to!
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Yes, I still miss Europe. Hugely. But I try not to think about it.
I just found out recently from the shelter where I got him, that Sparky was abandoned alone and starving when he was found. Maybe he's so good to his fosters because he remembers what it was like to be all alone with no one to love him. He loves all of his foster babies.
ReplyDeleteDid no one send you girl scout cookies when you lived in Germany? How did Stefan miss out on those?