Amidst the Mists 6

He was back in the bed, back in the bedroom. 

It wasn’t hot and steamy and there wasn’t so much noise or people

coming and going. It was a pleasant place to be.

And he didn’t feel bad. 

He was propped up on pillows, his hands folded across his chest

(that was a tiny bit unnerving) He was breathing easily and nothing hurt

especially.

He opened his eyes. The room was filled with muted sunshine pouring

through the large window facing east. Muted because the sun was overhead.

He’d built in that window to watch the sunrises over the mountains and

across the lake. The time and trouble he’d had installing all those panes of glass!

It had been such detailed work, but he had never been sorry about the time and money spent. 

It was a perfect way to start the day, especially in the Dark Time

that was winter. 

There were a couple of children playing some game on the floor. Marbles

maybe. Young, still wearing baby gowns. Couldn’t tell if they were boy or girl

or both.

Right now he couldn’t recognize if they were his children, or his grandchildren, or

maybe one of each.

Closer to, beside the bed, a tall young man with dark almost curly hair was

stretched out with his feet propped up on a second chair. He was dressed in a fancy

suit. A party suit, not a funeral or church suit. Wouldn’t be suitable for a business

meeting, either. 

For a moment, he was puzzled that there was only one of the fancily dressed

young man there. Then he remembered that that was an okay thought, because

there really were two of him. His identical brother had been growing a beard the last he

remembered. (He wondered how that looked.)

The fancily dressed young man had a baby on his lap, a small one. An infant.

  He wondered distantly who had been expecting before he went running through

that fog curtain. 

The young man was talking to the baby, in a cheerful soothing voice,

threatening it with all sorts of dire consequences if it dribbled anything, from either

end, of any color or texture, even see-through, on his suit, which had been

ridiculously expensive and he’d probably never get another one like that. 

The baby gurgled and waved its hands, which were mittened.

The young man laughed back and continued making threats in a light tone

in his pleasant voice. He was now telling the infant about his adventures and

strategies that had got him his suit, which Pops insisted was a ridiculous expense.

How he’d like to continue that debate, hopefully with a lot less temper.

Not, the man in the bed noted, to not have argued about it at all. That was

honest, anyway. Funny how the young made such a fuss over clothes. He’d never

done that.

    In fact, until he married, he had been satisfied with off-the-shelf clothes that had

never fit properly. They were good enough.

“You’d think,” the young man informed the infant, “that Pops never had

tailored clothes in his life. That’s probably why he doesn’t know it's worth the price.”

The man in the bed raised a hand. “Jamie-my-son,” he said, and was pleased

at the sound of his voice. It didn’t shake, it wasn’t a whisper, and it wasn’t shrill.

The younger man turned and stared at him, his light blue eyes opening wide.

“Pops? Are you AWAKE?”

“Don’t call me Pops.”

The younger man leaned forward and pushed a button that had been wired

into the bedpost. It created a loud buzz outside of the room.

“You couldn’t wait til I was dead to bring in your electricity?”

“Oh, you were dead. You’ve died a few times, Pops. Last week or so, you’ve

been – mostly asleep.”

The room was suddenly crowded with people, and they made a heck of

a lot of noise. 

Too much noise, really. He closed his eyes while his son tried to explain what

had happened to the multiple family members who had come running when the

buzzer sounded.

“Don’t call me Pops,” he said again, closing his eyes.

The room erupted in laughter and cheerful, joking talk as he drifted back into

silence.

Quarantine: What Does it Mean?

 I've been reading a lot of information, and seeing results on social media. Information about how the Spanish flu epidemic (as it was called in those days) was handled.

The most popular social "call to arms" concerns wearing masks.

They didnt legislate masks back in those days. People weren't forced to wear them.

While it is true that the federal and state governments weren't creating mandates on the issues, most towns and cities did make laws.

Rather, they enforced existing laws.

Back in those days, there were laws called Quarantine laws. 

If your household had a contagious illness (measles, diptheria, whooping cough, smallpox) public health officials came and posted a great big, very red sign on your door.

QUARANTINE by order of...

With that sign on the door, no one left the home. No one entered the home, or if they did, they had to remain throughout the quarantine period.

Doctors, nurses, and police were the only people allowed access, and even then had to follow strict routines, which included sanitizing. Sanitizing sometimes included complete changes of clothing.

Groceries and medicines were delivered to the doorstep. Neighbors could drop off gifts on the porch. 

Once they left, the subjects of the quarantine could bring in the deliveries.

There was no question of going to work.

There was no thought of going out to eat.

No one went to the park or the playground. In some cases, even the back yard was off limits.

People didn't protest this, although they grumbled and had the same worries we do today. Keeping job, paying rent, nor having machinery repossessed.

They didn't protest because they knew.

Infectious diseases were frequent, common, and deadly if the protocols were not followed. There were fatalities any time one of these visited a neighborhood, or a town, or a city. 

But the quick imposing of a quarantine could lower the deaths and limit any lingering impairment. Centuries of experience had proven this many times. And if it could be stopped in the neighborhood before it reached into the town, there would be even fewer deaths and disabilities. Everyine wins.

No one questioned it.

If anyone thought of their constitutional rights, they tended to focus on the one first mentioned. The right to Life. They knew the quarantine laws were the most effective defense of the right to life.

After the Spanish flu, we became more educated. 

We made new discoveries.

We discovered bacteria, viruses, antibiotics, and vaccinations.

We learned surgeries and therapies. Epidemics, renamed pandemics, were a thing of the past.

And

We forgot.

Time was proving out how much better off we were, overall. There were outbreaks of things, usually in strictly limited geographic areas. These were handled by the combination of better medicines and the routines of the quarantine programs.

We were smug.

We could handle it.

Until the day and the disease came and there was no controlled access. Everyone was going everywhere. With everything.

And the virus spread around the world. 

It's still spreading. 

So.

Do not share information without understanding it, if you can help it. 

Before you condemn proven effective actions, consider the history behind them and ask yourself in what ways things have changed and what changes we should keep and which are not working as we have hoped.

Above all else, remember that the right to life comes before the right to liberty.

Writer's Dilemma: Diagnosis

Fellow writers, what would you do? What do you think?


I have written two things that include oddities -- one an illness; the other a behavior. Some of the feedback I have received is that I should be telling (not good storycrafting) what the diagnosis is or explaining the behavior.

The illness is the story of a child who died and her father.  the story is set somewhat ambiguously in the 1940s, USA. The disease that the child died of was not even named until 1938, and that was in Canada.
Therefore, at the time of the story, there was no diagnosis.
None.
Treatment was of the symptoms as they arose.

The fact is, I didn't know myself what the disease was until I had finished writing the vignettes, and looked up the symptoms myself. Not quite a textbook case -- are they ever, really? -- but variations were within the norms for the condition.

In the story, the illness went undiagnosed, even after the death of the child.
Because there was, in that time period, no (or rare) formal diagnosis for it.

It was what it was, and so was the outcome. Those involved had to deal with the situation as it occurred, with no answers.

That was the story.

***********************************

The other situation was part of a novel, a character trait that was not consistent with the character's general development. An irregularity in verbalizing, even though the character had an enormous (for his age and the times) vocabulary with a good understanding of most words and the ability to guess accurately the meaning of unfamiliar words.

In the novel, the child's caretakers do notice and try to have this idiosyncrasy checked out. They mention at different times that this that or the other was done. A thorough physical, and the boy's hearing was tested, even though that seemed an unlikely cause since he could understand.
In the end, the adults decided it was just a quirk in the child's development and let it be, just keeping an eye on it as he ages.

It isn't really a BIG IMPORTANT detail, just, as I said, something of a character quirk.

****************************************

In both cases, or in either case, inserting today's knowledge in a yesterday's story doesn't seem right to me.
I also have not been able to figure out how I would do it, if I wanted to. (Which I don't.)


It speaks loudly and is a sad commentary that readers want everything put in a box, sorted, and labelled, don't you think? I wonder why it is this way. Does this approach really make anyone happier? Are children no longer allowed to be themselves, unique?

There are still undiagnosable conditions, especially in children.
There are still unexplainable idiosyncracies in childhood development.
There are still unique characters whose entire existence is outside the box.

What's most alarming is that these demands were made, not by everyday readers, but by other writers.
Make no mistake, these were demands. One critiquer was infuriated that I did not tell her and every other reader what was wrong with that boy. In her opinion, if I didn't explain it, I shouldn't write it that way.
And she had only read an excerpt. Even when I explained that the 'issue' was addressed in other parts of the book, she was still insistent that nothing undiagnosed, unexplained, or unlabelled could be in the story.

If out creative peoples are thinking and writing this way, what hope is there for the individualists in our world and the world to come?

(un)Safety Seats

My grandson turned two and it's time for a sitting-up-and-facing-forward car set. Yay!  Big boy!

So, we went looking for one. Those things can be expensive, but if you shop around, you can get a good deal.
We found one at Kroger's for a bit more than $50.
Yay us, right?

You would think.

But the damn seat has no straps.
No child restraints.
Except for what is provided by a seat belt fitted into specific slots.

No child restraints?  No five point harness?
For a TWO YEAR OLD?
Are you kidding me?

Two year olds are escape artists. That's one of their main talents at that age. The only way to make them stay in one place is to make that a place they aren't supposed to go. Even that won't keep them in the place. They'll just run in and out if there's nothing to stop them.

I put Little Guy in this fancy rigged up strapped in properly car seat with no harness. He was throwing himself across the back seat before I reached the road.

Now, they want us to put our kids in these cumbersome, heavy, huge contraptions to the point of big-brother governing. They make laws for the parents and grandparents and anyone who transports a kid. You must do this and have that and it is such a complicated procedure that fire departments and police stations often have classes and inspections so parents can get it right.

But now the manufacturers are being allowed to market unsafe seats for 2 year olds.

No, I'm nor taking it back. The manufacturers are being allowed to promote and sell car seats that are unfit for their stated purpose.

Beware, Parents. When your monkey climbs out of his secured car seat and flies through the air, who do you think is going to be suffering the costs, physical, mental, and emotional? Who will be ticketed for not having the child secured, even though all instructions were followed?

It's not going to be the makers -- law makers or seat makers.

Parents, please do not buy car seats without harnesses for your active little monkeys.
Just  DO NOT BUY.
They are not safe.
They are ridiculously expensive.

I will note that with some of these car seats the safety harness can be purchased separately and self-installed.
Hell, I can hardly figure out the way to adjust existing straps, let alone put them in from scratch.
What a waste.
Of time and money.

For now, I purchased an old style sit up car seat at a yard sale. This isn't really a good option for very much longer, as these seats are usually used until the expiration rime. It's my hope that by the time it expires, Warren will be more car trained and can graduate to a seat belt only seat (although I still have doubts about the child safety)
If not, I may trust an expired with harness a lot more than brand new and unsafe from the box.

Brown Thursday? Are you kidding me?

I mean, what makes it brown? The shadiness of forcing minimum wage part timers away fro their families so the rich can get richer? That is shady, to say the least.

It's been a big item in the news and on social media this last week.
Boycott Walmart -- after you start a riot over a tv.
Don't shop K-mart, Target, Big Buy, Best Guy, etc --make sure you bundle up while you wait in line even before Thanksgiving.
Other news stories about how more people than ever will be eating out. Well, they wouldn't/couldn't if the damn restaurants were closed, could they?
Unless they want to line up two frigid nights ahead of time.
Oh, gee, if I want to wait for a meal I can just go "Home" for the holiday and spend it with family!
Silly me.


I would love to blame the media.  Heaven knows they feed the frenzy. Out interviewing the idiots waiting in line on Wednesday. In the stores , with cameras and publicity and regalia and rigmarole on Thursday.
But, in this case, they are doing their job, somewhat. They are reporting on the news.
Not that there is anything "NEW" going on -- this is the fourth or fifth year for this nonsense.

I think they could help.
They don't need to report their precise location when they are broadcasting the Idiot's Lineup.
They don't need to tell everyone which mall they are covering.
They don't need to reveal sale items.

People want to be on tv (and You Tube) and they want to be known for getting good deals.
The stores want all the free publicity they get, and the News Outlets give them that in spades. They don't have to pay a penny.
It's all profit for them.

And that's all you are, if you are foolish enough, or maybe desperate enough (if you happen to be one of the slave wage laborers.)
You are profit.
You are dollar signs.
You are dollars.

You are not a person.
You are not a parent.
You are not a valued ... (customer, consumer, member of the team, part of the staff-- you choose.)

You are profit.

So -- how do you see yourself?

And did you spend your Thanksgiving stuffing your face or stuffing their already bulging wallets?

Weekend

Pleasant surprise Friday evening when the babies were delivered to our door. We had been discussing it, and working at working it out, and then -- there they were!
On their way, Daddy had bought Hailey a pumpkin carving set and a kite, and these items were left at Mammaw's house.
So -- when Hailey got up Saturday morning, before she said "Good morning" or even "I'm awake, Mammaw!" she came to me and said, "We have to go get my pupmkin."
I fibbed. I told her the store wasn't open yet. The truth was, No one else in the house was awake yet, and I couldn't leave the baby to wake Rex up. (Tracy usually doesn't hear anyone on account of noise in her ears constantly, although she wasn't wearing her earbuds/headphones at the time.)

I didn't want to buy a pumpkin.
I sure as heck didn't want to carve a pumpkin. But the kit had stickers and that's what she said she wanted to do; put stickers on it.


Of course it didn't stop there.
When I told her she'd have to take the pumpkin home and let Daddy cut it, she went to Pappaw and he, silly man, told Tracy to do it, so it got done.
Badly, reluctantly, but done.

Then there was the kite. Numerous tantrums because she couldn't make it fly.
There was no wind.
No way it would fly and stay up, no matter how much she "runned and runned" with it.
Good job, Dad. Buy your kid a kite on a windless day and take her and it to ol' fat gramma's house. Good job.

Baby Boy was, for the most part, happy baby. He sat in his bouncer, his swing, and joy-of-joys, he would actually play on the floor instead of just flipping himself over and screaming. He's organizing getting himself to things and places and picking stuff up, so he's much happier.

We had the usual third-shift baby night Friday night, so I was groggy and short tempered most of Saturday (which started out with the pumpkin fiasco.)
Saturday, he was alert, talkative, communicated clearly -- a scream when someone leaves the room is pretty darned clear! -- went from person to person by his own choice. He surely does love his Pappaw who says "Tell me about it." to him and he at-ats and ya-yas away.
It was a nice day, and I took him outside on the quilt for going on a couple hours. He played and rolled and wiggled and squiggled himself all around. Finally getting up on all fours, although he's not quite figured out how to make everything move together. I had a heck of a time getting a picture, because the camera would go off and I had to turn it on and then frame the picture. BY then he'd be 'resting' again and I'd have to wait for the next time.

I do wonder if the outside time is why we had so many problems at bedtime, although he didn't show any symptoms. (Daddy has allergies, but Baby came with a cough and runny nose. Being outside seemed to ease that a bit.)
Saturday night we had a baby who wouldn't sleep, wouldn't settle. Wouldn't eat, wouldn't suck, didn't want held, didn't want put down. Finally decided he must be in pain and reluctantly gave him some baby ibuprofen, and he ended up sleeping through the night. Woke up around six for a diaper change and a refill, and back to snoozeland until almost ten. Two @4 hour sleeps in a row. I can rule the world today!

I had to take them home Sunday afternoon, and Hailey got up and started getting dressed and dressed up for the event. She's also making very sure that I plan to take Bubby home, too, and not just her.
She was  ready to go, and the situation was the same as yesterday -- she and I  the only ones awake.

She did get her kite "flied", and came in all sunshine and smiles.

Now, back to the sad, empty, and endless job of cleaning the house and the sadness of putting the toys away.
But not too "away." They WILL be back, and soon.

Hailey has already called and asked about "next time."
Warren yelled for "At-at Ya-ya"

Yeah, they'll be back. Soon.

Bully Entertainment

How many of you are watching programs like Impractical Jokers or Deal With It?
You know, those shows where they bully people into doing stupid things?

Oh, you think it's not bullying, because they are getting paid for it?
It's not bullying because they agreed to it?
It's not bullying because they are just stupid for doing it and therefore deserve anything they get?
It's not bullying because it's funny?

Which of those excuses are not used by the REAL bullies of life?
Maybe the one about getting paid? You've led a charmed life to have never been the victim of a workplace bully/boss.

Money, of course, excuses all sorts of bad behavior in this world. Just look at our lawmakers.

Let's put aside the money issue. Children don't know too much about money,  nor do they value it as adults do.

Do you have or are you around young children?

What are they seeing when they watch you watching and laughing at these programs?
They see you, one of their role models, being amused and entertained by some people coercing other people into doing sometimes cruel, sometimes careless, sometimes dishonest activities. It doesn't matter what they are doing, or why.

The children see you laughing at the results of bullying.

How are you going to explain that to them?
How are you going to stop them from emulating this behavior that gets all this favorable attention from you?

What are YOU going to do?

Twistered

The pictures coming out of Oklahoma at this moment are horrifying.To me, they seem to be worse than Joplin and Branson, and more akin to our little Ohio town of Moscow that was so devastated not much more than a year ago.

I am looking at Moore, Oklahoma. Houses, stores, all piles of rubble. Twisted steel beams, and not much else to show structures.
A shopping mall.
The piled-up drawing the most attention, the newscasters are telling me, is the school. Or what's left of it.
Where are the children?
No one is sure, at the moment. No one even knows, for certain, if they were taking shelter there, or if they had been moved/moving to a safe area.

Oh, dear God, where are the children? Where were the children?

My heart breaks for the parents, the children, the townsfolk. They've lost their homes and their other places -- all devastating. But the loss they are rallying around is the missing children.

Moore, Oklahoma has their priorities straight. I hope they are rewarded for that.

This tornado was awful, awful, awful. The damn tornado itself looked more like a mushroom cloud, and that's what the aftermath looks like, too.

How can any town, any city, any family be prepared for something like this? The best one can do is hope shelter works, and hang on tight. If you are outside the situation, ad I am, you can care, and cry, and you can start deciding how to help, even before it's over -- and it's not over yet, there are more of them right this minute
.

I mourn for and with those on the spot, even as I am grateful that none of mine are there.
But they could be. Oh, yes, they could be.
I want to help these as I would want to help my own. It is only luck, and a few miles, that it isn't. It still could be. If not today, then tomorrow, or next week, or next decade.

We haven't figured out tornadoes yet.
Even when we do, it's going to be a long time before we can actually do anything about them.

If they head your way, please, please -- get safe. I don't want to see videos from you. Is that what you want shown at your funeral?

I want you to be safe.
I want Moore Oklahoma to find their children.

Bull about bullying

It's wonderful (?) to see the advertising about stopping bullying. It really is.
It's just too damned bad none of them offer any advice worth the breath
Every one of them starts -- and usually ends -- with the words "Tell an adult"

Ha! Haha! Hahaha! Fill this page with a maniacal (as in maniac) laugh.

If telling an adult was a solution, bullying would have been stomped out a long time ago.

Adults want proof, and witnesses. Most bullying happens away from witnesses, on purpose.

Adults, especially within the school system, don't believe beat-up and defeated kids. They just don't. You have to be 'famous' or pretty or well-dressed to have any credibility in the eyes of the authority. And if you are the big star or the beautiful one, you could not possibly be the one doing the bullying.No athlete has ever thrown someone into the wall, no pretty girl with pretty clothes has ever dumped the books of the smart ones that are ordinary looking.

The anti-bullying campaign is a good thing. I'm not arguing with that. But there need to be new solutions.The current 'solutions' are what has allowed bullying to become as out of control as it is.

Tell an adult, yes. But tell an adult from somewhere else. If you are being bullied at Red School, go talk to someone at Green School. And then Blue School. You'll get the same no

"no proof, no witness" speeches, but an outside source is more likely to write a report, or make a phone call in a professional capacity. No pats on the shoulder and instant dismissal of the very notion.

And cyber-bullying? Well, if no excuses, no tolerance became the standard -- if ALL our children were held accountable for ALL their behavior -- if there were CONSEQUENCES -- there'd  be a lot less of that.

Parents and principals -- quit making excuses.
You are the guilty ones; you are too blame. Children are children, or at last start out that way. It is you who create the monsters by closing your eyes.

It is NOT the victims' job to prevent the crime. 

Making Magic

Today, I made magic for a child.

It was a follow up to the magic I made last night, when I took cookies out of the oven, and promised her that tomorrow we would decorate them. She didn't know what decorate meant, I think, but was willing to take my word for it.
After all, a Mammaw who can get cookies out of an oven instead of a bag must know something.

Today while she was watching tv, I got my powdered sugar and my milk and food coloring and 4 bowls and 1 coffee cup that belonged to my dad and started mixing. When Hailey's show was over, she came out to the kitchen and climbed up in the chair.

"Mammaw, it's purple. And orange."

I showed her how to use the purple plastic knives to spread the frosting on the cookies, but it was still pretty runny, so I reached into my bag of powder and dumped another handful into each bowl. Then I picked one up and started stirring it in.

"Ooooh, Mammaw! You're making magic! I want to help! We can make a RAINBOW!"

So, I told her to pick up a bowl and stir it up. She said she was making green magic, and I was making purple magic, and blue magic, and yellow magic, and she was doing orange magic.

Then we painted the cookies.

I put sprinkles on the cookies after they were painted and she yelled at me that I was "Messing up" her magic paint cookies.
But she was liberal with the sprinkles and the candies herself afterward.

Sadly, we still have paint left, and nothing to paint on. My flour is nearly gone or I'd make a plain cake or something -- then we could indeed make a rainbow. I put the leftover frosting in jars in the refrigeratoe. She keeps telling me the food paint is getting cold. I have no idea if it will keep or if it is safe to keep that way, but if it goes bad, there's always the sink.

I could have a rainbow drain.

The real magic is in the child's simple belief that Mammaw can do magic -- and lets her help.

Surely there's no greater magic than feeding the children -- bodies and imagination both.

Art will Out.

My husband used to say. when we'd go flea marketing, "I could do that if..."
He could be talking about wooden yard cutouts, or concrete statues, or handmade pottery, or plaster busts, or just about any handcraft.

His "if" was usually
"If I had the tools."
"If I had the equipment."
"If I had the space"

I was usually the penny pinching bully who wouldn't "let" him have the whatever he wanted for something he might do. Never mind that he probably never would do any of it.

I knew he wouldn't.

I made this judgement because he could have done many of the things using the tools at hand, but because they weren't specialty tools, he 'couldn't.'

Art doesn't work that way. If you have a need in your soul to create, you create. You don't wait for tools or stop for argument. If the need is in you and has to get out, you use what's at hand and do the best you can.

Period.

I know this, because I write. I write in all conditions, under any, many circumstances. I HAVE dived into trash cans for something to write on. I have used a mascara brush to jot down notes for a plot twist that just came to me as I was waiting in line. I have written with crayon, with full-fledged permanent marker, with broken pencils where I've chipped and peeled the wood away from the lead with my teeth and fingernails, because the words need to get OUT.

If I had no tools or equipment, I created some, I found some, I made some.

The same can be said for those who want to dance, or design, or act, cook, or do any other creative, expression.

There is no "if" in making art.

I'm reminded of this today watching my granddaughter.
She draws.
She paints.
She has taught herself to use the Paint program on the computer. She knows more of how to get it to do what she wants than I do.
If she finds an ink pen, a crayon, a marker, a burned stick, a charcoal briquet, she picks it up and draws a line or a circle with it.
If she has no paper to draw on, she uses a sidewalk, a rock, a board, a wall.

There is no "if" in this child when it comes to her art.

"If" she has no other legacy, I hope this is what she gets from Mammaw.

There is no "if" in "art."

Fall is Coming

An old favorite of mine, from when my little ones were little ones. Caught myself singing a version of this to the grandbaby last week.

Fall Is Coming

Fall is coming, oh me, oh my 

Fall is coming, the leaves will die 

Fall is coming, and winter soon 

Fall is coming, and the harvest moon 

Fall is coming, the year's most gone 

Fall is coming, summer soon gone 

Fall is coming, and will soon be here 

Fall is coming, the end of the year 

Fall is here, the leaves have turned 

Fall is here, summer is yearned 

Fall is here, and life slows down 

Fall is here, Summer's crown 

Fall is here, and winter is coming 

Fall is here, the harvesters are running 

Fall is here, let's get everything in 

Before winter comes in, cold as sin. 

Nick Mom? Are you kidding me?

Please say you are kidding me!
 Please say this is a tryout or a special session or something.
Please, please don't say you are seriously depriving the sleep deprived mothers of junior insomniacs the presence of Nick jr 24 hours around the clock.

And for what?
Momedies? Tearjerkers?
No!
The kids are being booted off for stand up comedians!
You have to be kidding me.

Moms all over the world are being punished for all the moms who tried the comedy gig back when Nickelodeon did the funny mom contest. Now we all have to watch all the not-quite winners while our children or grandchildren scream and howl instead of going to sleep with familiar friends luring them into slumber.

I didn't know of this horrid desecration until my granddaughter came to stay for a week. Her favorite shows, just before bedtime, have been Pocoyo and Ni Hao Kai-Lan. They come on at ten o'clock, and signal bedtime, lights out, sit down and shut up time.

That is, they did come on at ten o'clock.

Now, ten o'clock heralds the beginning of Nick Mom.

Some person (or committee -- I neither know nor care) at Nick jr decided that children go to bed by ten o'clock, and that the Moms are going to be watching tv. And instead of watching a good murder, or a good-cry movie, these moms, who have their obedient little angels all tucked in -- these women want to watch stand up comedians.

Not me. When I got my teeny tots tucked in (or should I say stuck in? Sometimes it seemed I needed strait jackets and restraints.) I had to finish dishes, fold laundry, things of that sort.

When I did get to watch tv, I wanted something that  would offer escape from the day to day being a mom -- not something that would plunge me into other mom's woes. Yes, I have stories, too. Yes, I could make them funny or dramatic. Yes, my kids are more funny/messy/silly/noisy/fussy. Let me tell you... .

But when I'm done being Mom, I want to be someone and somewhere else. Not watching endless reflections of myself  on a kiddie channel on the tv.

I don't advocate watching tv as anything but a tool to use with consideration and deliberation when raising children. But when used properly, it is useful.

As a bedtime cool down or as entertainment for a wakeful child, I guess that we, as parents and grandparents, will be turning, turning, turning away from Nick jr at night. Our children may soon find the Disney jr or Sprout characters even more endearing. Then we will no longer have to bother with Nickelodeon at all.

And their Moms can all entertain one another with one-liners all night long.

What drugs to test?

There's been so much garbage floating around (and some information) about drug testing for welfare benefits.  I've been trying to avoid the topic, but the shouters are getting louder all the time. I'd like to get my two cents worth in while someone may still be listening.

First of all, drug testing is not cost effective at this time. Each test will cost more than benefits collected per individual. The counter to this argument is that if testing becomes more common, price will drop. The law of supply and demand and all that. Generally if everybody wants it, it goes to the highest bidder, not the lowest, but then again, if you can sell at a high price to a few or a low price to many, you probably end up with the same amount of other people's money in your pocket.
In this case, it would be (again) government money and it will go into the pockets of the pharmaceutical and other Health Care Bandits already-rich-people's pockets. Be wary of anyone suggesting this argument. It's likely the money will, one way or another go into their pockets.
And then they'll want more.

Next, the "I have to take a drug test to get a job, so you shgould have to take one, too" argument. First heard in the back yard when I was about three, later heard many times in the playground. Haven't you people learned anything yet?
Life ain't fair.
Deal with it.

Also, who says you have to take a job where you need a drug test? If you don't want to take the test, find another job. I've been working for nearly forty years and never had to take a drug test. If I had to, it wouldn't be a problem for me. But if I choose to take it to get the job, that will be on me, not on the rest of the world.
Not on you.
None of your business.


Third, I would like all these Hallelujah Hollerers to ponder what they are calling drugs. Are they going to shout about legal vs, illegal drugs?

These days doesn't that depend largely on where you live? Can a state that has legal medical marijuana, for example, then deny someone benefits because according to federal law marijuana is an illegal substance?

What then about their own laws?
What if a person is taking something for a chronic condition that somehow skews the drug test results?
Should they have to do without because 'the test says so'?

And let's talk about the legal drugs. Here, I can speak from personal experience. My siblings and I went just a little hungry more than once because money was spent on cigarettes. A two pack a day habit could pay for a lot of spaghetti. Heck, it could even buy a few days worth of Baloney, although even that has become increasingly expensive.
Cigarettes kill. They kill the imbiber: slowly, painfully, over many years and many hospital stays and treatments and procedures that raise health care costs for us all.
It kills or creates illness with secondhand smoke. Not to be allowed, and now illegal in public places.

Alcohol kills. It kills the imbibers, slowly, painfully, over many years and many hospital stays and treatments and procedures that raise health care costs for us all.
It kills innocents. Beaten children, casualties of drunk driving, etc. Not to be supported.

Will you test and test and retest for alcohol in the system? Or nicotine? Will you deny children housing benefits because dad can't stay off the bottle? Will you deny them food because Mom needs a beer every hour?

I'm NOT saying that recipients are beer-guzzling, cigarette-smoking drug addicts.
I am an intelligent person and I know that it is only worst-case stories that make the newspapers, television, and politicians' tongues. For everyone that fits that stereotype there are (probably) a half dozen people -- families -- that are quietly going about their business, wondering if they should pay the water bill this month or maybe they had better refill a prescription or have some necessary but expensive medical test done. There are families that have had their food benefits reduced and they are reduced to having to buy canned vegetables now, with possible lead and sodium content, because the cost of fresh produce in groceries is too high and farmer's markets can't accept the food assistance.

What I am saying is drug testing is either too broad or too specific a weapon, and as with most weapons the ones most damaged will be the innocent.

I am saying that if we do away with financial free will -- well, once they start taking away money from one group, what is to stop them from making more and more and more laws to take it away from more and more and more individuals?

They have already started with taxes and have you ever seen this process reverse?

Hailey and the Cricket

Hailey, age 4, has developed a bug phobia. When she sees one, she screams and runs and cries.

I am one mom/grandmom/aunt/sister who has no patience -- and I mean NO PATIENCE -- with that behavior. Unless it's a wasp. But that's one bug, one specific kind of bug, not any and all. Anyway, I have no patience with that. Time to nip it in the bud. (Or in the bug. just to be funny.)

This is somewhat natural for the age, I suppose. I never paid a lot of attention to it when my girls went through it, because of that no patience policy I may have mentioned. The sudden appearance of any critter is startling and evokes an "oh!" or an "Eek!"

I told Hailey's mom I'd like to slap silly whoever taught Hailey to act that way, but that it wouldn't be satisfying to do so, because said person has already attained that state. (Translation: She's silly to start with.)

Hailey sees two kinds of bugs. Flying bugs are flies. Crawling bugs are spiders.
Size or color doesn't matter. Except in the bathtub. Anything black in the bathtub is a cause for panic, has been for about three years. Instant hysteria, climb up the gramma, refuse to put a toe in the water, plain basic panic. (See, I do know the difference.)

Now, there are flies that get in her swimming pool. Spiders, too. She wouldn't get in the pool with flies and spiders, so I got her a net. The first few times I skimmed it for her. Then I showed her. She still refused to have anything to do with the skimming.
So, mean Mammaw took her and bodily stood her in the center of the pool, wrapped Hailey's little fingers around the net handle, and held on to Hailey's arm and made it swish swish, then showed her how to knock the stuff onto the ground.
After that, it was up to Hailey. If she wants to swim, she either has to swim with the bugs or skim them out herself. Meanie Mammaw would sit on the porch and let her holler, whine, scream,whimper. If she wants to swim, she knew what she had to do. It was up to her, old Meanie said.

The next morning she hopped in the pool, skimmed it and showed  the spiders to that old meanie.

This visit Hailey started screaming running through the house and even refusing to go potty because there are crickets hopping around in the almost remodeled bathroom. Someone had to go to the bathroom with her, to protect her from the spiders that jump on her.

So, on one trip to the bathroom, we started talking about the bugs. The jumping spiders that are called cricket and that jump in the wall and make noise.

"They make noise."
"They're singing to you."
"SingING?"
"Yes, they are in the wall singing to you."
Then we experimented with walking around in the bathroom, and how the cricket would stop singing whenever we moved too close to the wall, and then start singing when we'd be quiet and be still.

We headed out of the bathroom, and the cricket chirped twice. I said, "It sang 'good-bye for now.' "

Hailey stopped in her tracks and looked at me. "It was singing TO ME?"
I said yes.

Wonder dawned in her face. "Oh, Mammaw. You mean it's nice?"

Back to the schoolroom

It's back to school time, and the news is out. All over the broadcasts are good schools, bad schools, charter schools, school levies, buses, teachers, backpack programs, and a lot of discussions. Most of the discussions are about costs.

Anyone who thinks free public schools are free hasn't gone to one for more than two generations. When I was a child, we had school fees every year  to pay for workbooks to go along with the textbooks. These workbooks were not and are not optional. There are more programs today than there used to be to help parents pay for them, but that's not the point.
The point is that free schools aren't free.

There's been discussion, too, about the school year. About the whole school year concept. The September-to-May concept is fairly recent .  School, in my lifetimes, started after Labor Day and ended by Memorial Day. Many things have happened to change that -- standardized Monday holidays, for one thing. Memorial Day isn't the 30th of May anymore.

The school year somehow changed into a certain number of days in school instead of a season of education. I have a lot to say about this ridiculous concept. My daughter had to make up absent days one year by going to school during her Christmas vacation. She didn't have to learn anything -- she wasn't making up tests, or reviewing chapters she missed due to her injury. She just had to have her butt in a seat at the school building, so they could have the requisite numbers of students on the minimum number of days.

Education is not the goal of school. Attendance is.

Some of this -- most of it -- is due to funding formulas. #of students, multiplied by # of days = $$$. Never mind the learning. No child can learn in 52 days, they absolutely need to have 53 days. It's the law.

It's the law.

Schooling should never have been made a matter of law.
Once it was a matter of law, it should have remained a matter of local law.
Not state.
Not Federal.
Not run by dollar dictators who want only a return on their investment.

To get that return, they turned to athletics. The games children play at recess for fun have become big business and are the secondary purpose of having school.
Again, if you think school athletics are about equal opportunity, you haven't been living in the real world. All sorts of personal gear and equipment have to be purchased. One year it was name brand shoes decided by the coach, because they were best and safest. Problem was, the shoes cost more than the monthly electric bill. Without the proper shoes, the students aren't allowed to play.

Doesn't sound very free or equal to me,and kids have always been pretty good at playing games without help. Just because the town council can get a cut of the gate and the state can run the concessions doesn't seem to me a sound educational platform.

It's back to school time.

At least we don't have to worry (too much) about what's required of us or our children. All we have to do is make sure they get there (Attendance) and encourage them to play games (Athletics.)

That's what school is all about.

Who's Hungry Now?

I am getting sick and tired -- and mad -- over the defamatory snide comments and patches and things about food stamps. That includes, big time, the media slanders.


First, some facts.
There are more people than ever needing help,.

These are people who have been working for 25, 30, 50 years and they have never -- NEVER -- had to ask or look for any help whatsoever for daily living. They have been paying into the system for years, even decades, and taking nothing out of it.

They have been living on savings and retirement funds and are 'just now' running out of money.

Or they are just now entering the work force and the unemployment line -- returning soldiers come to mind.


The 'advertisements' for food assistance is NOT advertising. They are Public Service Announcements, meant to inform those who don't know where to begin of a place to start. If it's your son returning to his wife and children from overseas, should they go hungry out of ignorance? If it's your grandparent forced into early unrecompensed retirement, must they starve because they bought things when they were working? Your gramma should stand on the street corner selling her Ipod you gave her for Christmas last year because you don't think a person getting assistance should have 'things'?

I thought not.


These newly broke bought and paid for their stuff when they were working, just like the SuperSnobs have done. When you lose your job or get sick for a year, will you be selling your car? Your house? Your electronics that depreciate faster than an automobile?
I think not.

So quit dumping on people for having things. You don't know where or how they got them, or why. Could have been gifts, for all you know.Things could even not work properly but it's all they have.
You may see they have something. It may be something that you don't. You probably have something that they don't.


Big effing deal. That's life.

Too many people are going hungry, are letting their children go hungry, because of ignorance.
The ignorance of the self-important self-approving.

TV judges and Social Security

I think they all need a crash course on Social Security laws. Of course, I also think anyone with a Social Security payout problem needs to take their case to Social Security, but there is probably a backlog, for one thing. For another, one wouldn't get to be on TV (or get paid for suing) if they handled their problems that way. I'm not real sure what the appeal is in displaying one's ignorance and stupidity (two different things) all over the world, but it seems important to many people.

And, yes, I will watch you air your dirty laundry. It helps me know how to keep mine unexposed. Judge shows are pretty good for quick character studies, and sometimes name finding.

The judges have different personalities and different agendas for their shows. The People's Court bends over backwards, usually, to apply the law of the state where the litigants live. That's a lot of work, and the result makes for educational entertainment most of the time. Judge Judy doesn't really seem to care what the law may be. Her 'courtroom' is her kingdom, and she makes all the rules -- even if they aren't the law of Anywhere Else. The other programs fall somewhere in between.

Recently there have been quite a few cases dealing with Social Security (and its affiliate programs) issues. Usually someone squabbling over who should get payee money for children, but not always.

One case was a man whose girlfriend 'stole' his payments while he was incarcerated. She used his money to maintain his apartment, buy his bills and other horrible misspending.

Prisoners are not allowed to receive Social Security payments, according to the documents my husband received. When you 'become incarcerated' your benefits are supposed to be suspended, until such time as you are no longer incarcerated. No exceptions, although there is an appeal process of some sort.

So why is the judge not educating people that this is an illegal act, if s/he must hear the case on TV?

Other cases involve payees of SS or SSI for the disabled . Now, any monies accumulated before payment is made should go to whoever is taking care of the child or person. Roof over the head, food in the mouth, entertainment, education, clothes on the back.
It is NOT for whoever takes custody later.
It is NOT to be saved up for college. In many cases, especially with SSI, if there is any 'extra' income, there will be no payments. The payments are to help support the recipient with basic payments.

Social Security can, and does, ask for an accounting. Every year there's a paper to fill out. Every now and then, the payee for the recipient has to haul off a year's worth of receipts and canceled checks and bank statements to the local office and show that the money has been used to pay the person's fair share of expenses. (In a four person family, each person can be responsible for no more than one-fourth of regular living expenses. Specific expenses for the individual for personal needs and medical expenses are handled differently.)

Whoever paid for these things during the waiting time is who should get this money. Period. The end. That, too, is spelled out in letters and forms the government sends out when there is a new judgement on receiving benefits. It doesn't belong to the recipient, unless there is leftover. It doesn't belong to the next person to take over -- except for that leftover.

Why do I know this, and so-called experts -- even ones who do detailed research -- don't?

Who educates the educators?

Hi now, Kai-lan, and Exploring with Dora

It's been a long time since I paid much attention to children's programming. Now that my granddaughter is watching it with attention, I'm paying more attention, too. (Because she's never watched anything in my care that I haven't also watched.)

Nick Jr is her channel. Not too much wrong with that, as this child also has a healthy interest in going outside and reading, writing, and 'darwing'. A lot of kids don't, but that's another story.

 Most of the shows are okay. A (very) few are brilliant. Some of it I don't get, but since I'm not its target audience, I'm not too worried about that. Should probably be more worried if I 'got' all of it.

Nick Jr tells parents (or whomever) what the show teaches. Interesting, but not as interesting as what the children -- or at least this child -- learns from it.

Dora the Explorer is supposed to teach all kinds of stuff: counting and Spanish and logic and colors and following instructions. Never mind the Spanish. What Dora teaches, apparently, is that there are different words for the same things. At 18 months, my little one watched Dora, and when Dora had to go across the river and through the forest, Hailey told her she had to boat the water and go in the trees. All English, but completely different words.

This week, Hailey applied the lessons from Ni Hao, Kai-lan, a show that also teaches bits of Chinese. When Mammaw got mad, she observed that Mammaw was mad, thought about what Mammaw was mad about, and decided Mammaw needed to CALM DOWN.

It was a little much, though, when she instructed me to sway back and forth, back and forth in order to do so.

The question I have is how will this work once she goes to school (months away if she can do preschool; only a year away for kindergarten) That swaying back and forth thing sounds like an invitation to mockery to me. Maybe not, if the children are all of an age and all watch the same programming -- or if they are programmed by teachers to do this. (Can't you just see a roomful of four-year-olds swaying back and forth, back and forth every time one of them has a tantrum. When would any teaching get done?)

But it troubles me, and I don't know how to address the problems. On the one hand, observation and application are good things. It's really great that a preschooler can understand you can be mad without it being their fault, or that a river is made of water and a forest is trees. On the other hand, the coping strategies should be private and somewhat internal, or they are invitations to misunderstanding and mockery.

The underlying message is the same as it has always been. The shows are a tool. The real learning comes from the family and from daily living. Know what your children are watching and let them talk to you about it. They are learning and they want you to tell them what's right for your family. And even that it's okay if it's different for others.
'
It's all good, as long as we're ALL involved.

Flow of Family Fun

My brother's wedding Saturday made me think of how we, as a family, handle the ebb and flow of these get-togethers. Summer means there will be a few, and maybe a few more.

I opted out of many family events because I wanted to avoid conflict with my dad, who is gone now. He and I were on opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, and he was always outspoken about his beliefs. I don't think he ever meant to start any fuss and bother, he just wanted to convince everyone of how he believed.

Add to his firmness, the fact that he was deaf, and whether one agreed or disagreed, one had to shout and make prolonged eye contact to converse. I don't know how it works for others, but shouting, even over innocuous topics, ends up with me becoming angry. Shouting as a physical function, raises the blood pressure, which causes a flood of other reactions.

Anyway, because of the situation, I avoided. Didn't stop my girls from knowing their grandfather, did prevent them from seeing me act like a shrewish lunatic with him.

Now, I see my own daughter mirroring this behavior. Because of work and also because of some personal issues with family members, she has avoided the family get-togethers. No one wants to be involved in a fight, or to be the person everyone in the family fights with or becomes angry over the fighting.
Anyway, she has chosen to abstain from the possibility of conflict.

But she worries about her child not getting to know this side of her family, and the solution Tam reached was the same one I did. To allow the child to attend in the care of another family member. (In her case. me.)

Maybe it's wrong, but it seems to me the best solution. Not in every situation, not for every event, but in general it's a good thing. It acknowledges the importance of family, it keeps up traditions. even starts a new one -- tradition by proxy.

Like all families, we disagree. Sometimes we take sides against one another, and we'll talk to a third member about how stupid so-and-so is about whatever. We can be vicious or angry, or vicious and angry.
But when we get together as a group, we try to enjoy one another's company without conflict. We aren't perfect, sometimes a forbidden topic slips in and someone feels attacked.

We respect one another. We know we are available to each-and-every in at least some way. Making an effort to keep the young ones connected even when we can't teaches them, by example, that family IS important. The events that Family is Fun. No matter if it's you or they who are the stupid or wrong ones. Family IS.

As the worldly world whirls by, as weather wreaks havoc, as all our institutions are besieged, there can be no stronger message to leave our children.