Against the Wind

Hmmm… I’m at PRH, I knew we had some sort of craziness of the schedule today.  There’s a group of juniors in the classroom all crammed in too few desks practicing getting to the right place to take some of those high anxiety tests that they start tomorrow.  They’re waiting to be told to move back to their regular schedule for today.  I prepared a lecture on solving trig equations that is obvously not happening.  Last week a healthy portion of my class was working with the drama production.  Oh the joys of trying to teach in a high school around all the other activities.

I am now 12 hours later, and I did get a bit of teaching done. Tomorrow I’ll go in the afternoon, as the 2nd hour isn’t meeting on Thursday. Craziness.

Ever since I’ve been reading blogs and blog posts, Jeff Jarvis has been saying newspapers are dinosaurs, and need to rethink the business model. Someone suggested again today that education is the next “industry” to be totally revamped in light of the information age. I sure hope so. I do have a lot of bones to pick with education… mostly that schools are institutions of socialization, not education in the strict sense. But lest I get on a soap box here, what are your recent contacts with schools and schooling? Were they positive? Efficient?

I was working on the quilt squares earlier this evening, and after a good portion of ripping, I think they’re now ready to go together. But I’ve decided to have crawfish boil this Saturday. Tara is fussing continually at me, and today is one of the few days (Friday as well) that I have some time to take on house cleaning and such. Tomorrow my bank account gets recharged, so I can then go buy some lawn chairs and a tent for some shade. Tara thinks I ought not take the table outside. I see no reason why not. I’m going to put a tarp under it. I’m all about using what I have at hand rather than heading out to buy a bunch of stuff. I need a cooler, the crawfish may be a bit pricey… but they’re reserved. So Friday I’ll stake down a ground tarp, and set up a canopy in the back yard. I’ll also do a bunch of grocery shopping. That way we won’t get pelted with birdie stuff from the tree or sky. Sat morning we’ll move the table outside. Just thinking it through. But this came up because in the middle of sewing I decided to hunt for the floor in the sewing room. It was down there. WAY down there. So life is perculating on, sometimes in spite of me. Anyone for crawfish? Come one come all!

Meanwhile, since I’ve sworn off politics, here’s a story. I don’t even need to rewrite it. It’s ready to go. Let’s see… what was wife #2 thinking? BUSTED!

Ok, I can’t stay off politics. But have you noticed when GWB was in office the democrats were mighty free and easy with the Hitler comparisons. Now that OHB is prez, I’m hearing an awful lot of “fascism/Hitler” crap from the right. Has civil discourse been completely lost? Is the only way to make a point to drag in Hitler? I have seen some somewhat reasoned arguments that the banana republic model is the road we’re traveling. I donno. I’m not a happy camper… but durn it, can we discuss issues, not call each other names?

In the last couple months I’ve spent a lot of time in hospital chapels, trying to calm myself. Sometimes I take a camera. St. Francis has a modernish chapel. I’m not too fond of it, but it beats nothing. Nearby there is this statue.

This may not be a great time to have a photo journal. It takes me back to places I may not want to revisit! But I am not ashamed. I was afraid and I found strength when I needed.

What was I thinking? I’ve started on the round robin project, and I can’t seem to get the arithmetic right. The flittin’ squares I’m making involve lots of 3/4 in squares, so they’re tiny… a lot like working on a miniature. Sadly, I’ve got a challenge with handedness, (ok I don’t know right from left without a lot of thought) and I’m just not sure this is really the direction I want to go. Counting errors, clockwise, counterclockwise errors… time for bed on that one.

So a link. If you’re overcome with a need to buy me a present, I just want a flashlight. This one would do fine. Stop and think about the technology though. This is promising.

Mother’s last couple months were brutal with all the in and out of the hospital. So while sitting in her room watch her sleep I did odd things to entertain myself. How about a photo of sunlight on the wall?

Proverbs 8:22 - 26

The LORD possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old.
I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was.
When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water.
Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth:
While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world.

Early Christianity was refered to as “The Way.” Methodists are so named because they marked a path to the source. Hindus have several “yoga”, also in some sense paths to yoking, or joining. Gagdad, one of my daily reads refers often to a path of seeking, a turning always toward Beauty, Justice and Truth. This passage of Proverbs has Wisdom speaking, claiming to be… from the beginning with the Lord. Seek wisdom. It is a path to the Holy of Holies.

Beth fussed mildly at me at bridge last night. No blogging?

No blogging. Mother also was beset by mood problems in long stretches of cloudy days. “Unslumping yourself is not easily done.” Quoth Dr. Seuss, The Places You’ll Go No idea whether I’m mourning or just feeling sorry for myself or overwhelmed or what.

When Mother was alive, I thought I’d finally be able to tell a bit of the story of my parents, their stories as grist for the writing mill. But too much of my relationship with my mother is still clouded, crowded by anger. Until I can sort out whether I’m truly justifiably angry with my mother, or just piqued that she had human feet of clay, I don’t think I’ll trust myself with her stories.

Meanwhile, though I’ve not been writing, I’ve been clipping and saving blogging material. As I don’t watch the news in the normal sense, I’ve no idea what is published and shown ad nauseum. These photos of Mother Earth belching (an undersea volcano, near Tonga are pretty impressive. I had to check.. Tonga is in the South Pacific, beyond New Zealand.

After I’d take a set of photos I really liked of “Kansiana” I was showing one that I printed up to R– U– who as an editor, wanted to know what I was taking a picture of? What was the point of the photo? Mostly it was to record the state of a small silo on a rail siding in Kansas… wheat transport system in microcosm. And because it was there and I was there. It seems most of my photos are just a sort of personal journal, and getting back to them three months later makes them even more so.

This was a wonderful winter afternoon, Dec 29 when Tara and A– wanted to run around the track at Heritage Park. So I was invited to “join them” so I could watch the boys. Mothers can be handy like that. Usually I decline, but I enjoyed the late afternoon of perfect sunshine with a camera. The boys dedicated some time to trying to fill the canal with stones.

I’d always been curious about how China would adapt to the consequences of their one child policy.  Who’s going to have the babies in the next generation if most couples want to have a manchild?  I noticed today in the Economist a report that Hmong girls are being kidnapped and smuggled into China to be sold for brides. 

…it seems, another type of visitor is finding this territory attractive: gangs of kidnappers who snatch young Hmong women for sale as brides across the border in China.

The kidnapping has been going on for some time, and locals talk of a number of cases so far this year.

The weather has been great today. Out walking for a bit.. at least 2.5 miles, and had great fun teaching. I also have had fun looking at the stock accounts that Mother left.
I’ve done every bit was well with my own accounts without the assistance of a finance professional. But an afternoon messing about with spread sheets is not all unpleasantness. At threeish Tara and boys pass through… Q is using my address to attend the school he’s going to. Rides the bus home. Still left over from Katrina madness, but it seems to be working.

One sunny December afternoon, Tara invited me to meet them in the park. She and Andrea were walking the perimeter and I trained my camera on the boys. So we’re in a siege of grandboy shots. They’re photogenic tykes, so I have lots of photos. For some reason my file uploader isn’t acting right. I’ll try again later.

A comment by tigerhawk on how we all become pigs at the trough when there are a few trillion dollars floating about. I don’t think it helps our moral character any more than too much allowance and not enough responsibility helps a teenager.

The most dispiriting thing about the event was that virtually all of the questions from the audience were directed at the Trenton dude and were variations on “how can I get my hands on some of that there stimulus money?” This being New Jersey it should not have surprised me…

Shrinkwrapped writes longish articles, but I find her psychotherapist’s take on politics and group psychology to be informative.

The question of whether or not Iran can be treated as an opponent with whom to work out a modus vivendi versus an enemy who must be fought revolves around an assessment of whether or not they are trapped in the paranoid projective dynamic. Roger Cohen makes the case for those who desire nothing more than talk:

… the hawks’ case against Iran depends on a vision of an apocalyptic regime — with no sense of its limitations — so frenziedly anti-Semitic that it would accept inevitable nuclear annihilation if it could destroy Israel first.

The presence of these Jews [the 25,000 remianing Iranian Jews-SW] undermines that vision. It blunts the hawks’ case; hence the rage.

This is just part of her discursive argument, but she rather destroys the Cohen argument I think.

And just for grins, from the New York Post

Dear Mainstream Media:

I’m a conservative who believes that other conservatives are fat, drug-stuffed, money-grubbing warthogs like Rush Limbaugh, or scary inbred backwoods retards like Sarah Palin.

So can I please be your go-to guy whenever you need a conservative viewpoint?

When you assemble an op-ed page or a panel discussion that has three or four liberal commentators - plus a liberal moderator (if this is TV) or a liberal news section (if this is print) - I volunteer to be the one voice you allow to speak for the loyal opposition.

I am available to write cover stories for Newsweek, hold down the other side of the New York Times op-ed seesaw against Paul Krugman and Co., or fill in whenever David Gergen is unavailable to supply analysis of President Obama’s next magnifiquent speech for CNN.

And this link from the BBC, a reminder that we live in a dangerous world, and wishing it away isn’t going to work. Hopey change? This is not what I hoped for.

Russia will spend nearly $140bn (£94.5bn) on buying arms up until 2011.

Higher oil revenues in recent years have allowed the Kremlin to increase the military budget, analysts say. But prices have averaged $40 a barrel in 2009 compared with $100 last year.

Outdated equipment

In his first address to a defence ministry meeting in his capacity as supreme commander, Mr Medvedev said considerable sums are being channelled towards developing and purchasing modern military equipment.

“Despite the financial problems we have to cope with today, the size of these sums has remained virtually the same as planned.”

Analysts say the brief war in Georgia exposed problems with outdated equipment and practices within Russia’s armed forces and led to calls for military modernisation.

President Medvedev’s remarks also appear significant for what they say about the diplomatic game between Moscow and the new administration in the United States, says the BBC’s James Rodgers in Moscow.

So with the world spinning out of control, do you buy a bunker? Or just keep on hoping for the best? I vote for the later.

Here’s the other face that makes my heart sing. Quentin is entering those awkward years when the teeth are a bit too big for the rest of him. But unprejudiced Grandmas think the duckling will be a swan in the end.

Went to church today. No huge surprise there. The readings were, from the old testament, the bit of Exodus the part Christians refer to as the ten commandments, and from the gospel, the story from John, of Jesus in the temple tossing asside the money changers. Then he asserts that the should the temple be destroyed, he will rebuild in three days.

My review of the sermon/homily is that it was weakish on a point that cannot be made poorly or too often. The life and death of Jesus changed everything… the Jews were in a covenent relationship with God based on law. But we can never get the legal/moral thing completely correct. Sacrifices were required, unblemished sheep, oxen, birds for the temple fires. In Christ’s sacrifice and “rebuilding”, resurrection, which turned a total defeat into a victory that we can never explain away.

I try to hear my Grandfather’s sonorous voice saying grace, “Thank you Father for the blessings of the day, our family, the forgiveness of sin, and the life everlasting. In Jesus name, Amen” He prayed some variant of those words every time I broke bread with him, which was quite a few times. I try to remember to offer grace with meals. I’m not doing too well at establishing a habit at this old age. But the thankful heart is a glad heart. I need to remember to be thankful.

It’s a very few link day… a single one will do. Andrew Breithbart tells of his experience as the token conservative on “Real Time with Bill Maher.” It’s a well written account of why he counts the experience as worthy…He concludes with this paragragh.

We must plant seeds of doubt in the minds of the groupthink liberals in our dumbed-down and activist media culture. Yes, “Real Time With Bill Maher” is a hostile work environment for conservatives. But so is Hollywood - writ large. When conservatives withdraw from media and the entertainment business because they are intimidated or don’t want to get down and dirty, we lose even more, valuable political ground.

Even though Mr. Dyson filibustered in a poetic jargon only a linguistics student could decipher, and Mr. Maher glared at me in his trademark smirk, and the audience booed my every utterance, I left knowing I won the rigged bout simply by showing up.

It gets late faster and faster these nights. I walked a bit more than four miles today. And I feel sanctimonious for having done it.. and found it not very difficult. BUT after I make these long walks, I don’t want to move for the rest of the day!

Just home from the Symphony. F– M– had patron tickets but went out of town. So brief, very brief

Proverbs 8:18-21

“Riches and honor are with me,
Enduring wealth and righteousness.
My fruit is better than gold, even pure gold,
And my yield better than choicest silver.
“I walk in the way of righteousness,
In the midst of the paths of justice,
To endow those who love me with wealth,
That I may fill their treasuries.

Every community I’ve come in contact with has some of it’s own sorts of folk wisdom. In Uganda, as tribes were eyeing each other with suspicion while Idi Amin showed the world yet another example of extreme malfeasance, I heard several students say, “I want an education. That can never be taken from me.” I’ve often repeated that to students who take the availabilty of an education for granted, and take as little as possible away from their classes. These verses about wisdom reminds me of that experience. Wisdom is wealth, thou not of the kind men use to take the measure of another man.

Here’s CamOllie, doing the “wisdom boogey” Jumpin fer Joy

Changes, changes. I don’t do them particularly well. As I mentioned yesterday, one of the evolving reasons for blogging was to keep in touch with Mother. As that reason is no longer operational, some rethinking is in order. I truly love the comments of Gail and Deb, my Quilting buddies, Linda, my long lost friend from pre high school… and through many changes until we lost touch. Aunt Nita comments often in a letter, Sara sometimes has time to write. Carlo, the ex, comments now and again

A blog can build a sense of community. I’d love to do what I can to extend the little community that has been built here. In all honesty, one of the bones I would pick with my mother is that no one’s life is so interesting as to be worth the effort of five books, or 4.5 as it turned out. Yet what is this blog but a near daily bit of exhibitionism of what I’m doing, reading, thinking? I know that among the names I’ve mentioned, great welcome is not felt for the “conservative” point of view that I’ve tried to point out in links. What audacity of me to hope I can educate liberals of the bankruptcy of many ideas that gird their minds. Yet, I continue to find things that are terribly interesting to me.

For example today I have collected links to an article on a village in the Yukon that is trying to install a small nuclear power plant. Energy issues are going to be big ones as we go through this slow down, recesssion, depression. A psychologist (Dr. Sanity) has links and comments about the development of morality as it respects artificial intellegence. Surely this is an interesting issue on the intersection of the humanities and the sciences.

Last I have a tale of the worst experience at the hands of an airline I’ve ever heard. How can I not share it?

Then there’s the photo of the day. Now from Christmas Eve.

Quentin wants me to take him home. NOW. I’ll finish later. But the gist is, what interests you, the readers?

Back again…Got Quentin home. He got Rex, his pet gerbil out of the cage to show me. Then he retired to his tree house to play his Mario Bros. video game on the hand held game player. It’s spring time in Louisiana.

Topic from my life that might be of interest? Losing weight (not! I eat when I’m hurting, and I’ve been suffering a bit through the last months.) teaching, kids and grandkids, bridge, quilting, light day trading, church…it’s hardly an exciting life I lead. But I’m content. What interests you? I am just writing to entertain myself? I’m ok with that too. I do need to develop a more entertaining style.

Here are the links

Powering the Yukon?

Galena, Alaska, could be the type specimen for remoteness. A tiny town of about 700 on a bend of the Yukon River, it has no roads in and depends on the river for food, fuel and supplies. The river is frozen eight to nine months of the year. Galena residents pay three times the national average per kilowatt hour for diesel-generated electricity. Alternative energy would have special appeal for Galena, but with an evening that stretches 20 hours in the winter, solar is out. With the help of Toshiba and its American holding, Westinghouse, Galena is thinking nuclear.

A Swiss Zoo confronts hippo overpopulation.

An article on some interesting AI questions… can AI have moral berings?

The Worst Airline Company in the World

After spending several weeks each in Iraq and Lebanon at the end of 2008, I bought a plane ticket to the U.S. from Beirut on December 22 and figured I had plenty of time to get home for Christmas. I had no idea, though, that I had purchased my ticket from the worst airline company in the world – Italy’s national carrier Alitalia – and that a two-hour layover in Rome would turn into an ordeal that lasted longer than a week.

The gray skies and the closed liquor store in Arkansas, along I-40 seemed to fit the mood of a day leaving Mother in the Cardiac ICU, with Dana about to arrive back in Tulsa. Driving all day Christmas eve day… to a nice dinner in Slidell, rather surreal. Aging and reaching that last battle is not a journey for the faint hearted. But even the faint hearted and terrified go there. I found those times back and forth, a long twelve hours on the road many many times to be gruelling. That bit I’m glad to be past. I came home knowing Mother was not going to last terribly long. Helpless before the coming days. Hoping as a true coward that somehow I’d not be called upon to do the bedside vigil. But I got there and did it. I’m glad now.

Since the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet canal backed up into St. Bernard during Katrina, a lot of the low lying swamp land in the area between St. Bernard and Orleans Parish have gone so low that it’s a stretch to consider it land at all. They are using some of it for “sanitary land fill” which will move out some of the open water… but it’s not fit to build on.

The three main features of the skyline from left to right are the Crescent City Connection, the bridge over the Mississippi River near downtown, The CBD (Central Business District) where the tall buildings are, and the Claiborne bridge over the Industrial Canal. Think I was driving to Chalmette to turn in my grades so I had some time to stop and try a few photos on a very gray day. I left for Tulsa soon after. I’ve been back an forth a lot to Tulsa in the last few months. I was prepared however.

I distinctly remember Mother running back and forth to Lawrence as her parents were in their declining years. I don’t think Mother told me until a few years ago, but I’ve tried to make a story of the incident. She drove up, the very last time she saw her mother alive, Grandpa was tending Grandma. The whisper among the residents at the Presbyterian Manor in Lawrence was that poor Ray had spent his life tending to his invalid wife. Not true at all! But the people believed what they saw and forgot all the years my Grandmother worked at an Ina May or Sara pace. Unflinching work, entertaining, cooking, involved in community and church… but by this point she was blind and deaf, and her world had contracted terribly.

Mother drove up alone, which must have been quite an ordeal for her, as she hated to do anything without company. When she arrived, hoping to visit with her Mother, my grandmother turned to my grandfather and said, “Ray, who is that?” And then, “Send her away, I don’t like her here,” not really understanding that it was her daughter. Mother went over to Ms. P’s house and tried to nurse her anguish.

I guess the gray days and the gray skies spoke to me as I was finishing up the Fall semester.