Posted on November 20, 2004
I’m looking at a photo in our local newspaper of a young girl with a ponytail and the sweetest smile on her face. Her name is Amanda, and the article recounts her love of basketball, volleyball, a good book, and pizza. This article is nestled among other profiles of considerably older men and women. I found it on the obituary page. She was seventeen.
On her twelfth birthday, Amanda was diagnosed with a kidney disorder. Dialysis and, finally, a kidney transplant gave her five more years; but in the end the disease claimed her.
I didn’t know Amanda or her family. But whenever I read the obituary of a child or teenager, regardless of the cause of death, I am struck with what a terrible tragedy it is, not only for the family but also for the community at large. Who knows what important contribution has been lost forever?
Now there is a void that Amanda once filled. Her four sisters and one brother feel it. Her school friends, the neighbors, the health care professionals, countless others feel it too. Even I, a total stranger, am touched.
Then there are her parents. The term for a child who loses both parents is ‘orphan.’ But as far as I know there is no term for a mother and father who lose a child before that child is grown and out the door. I think it’s because one word cannot convey so much grief.
See more 10 Minutes in category Small Town Life, Things to Ponder
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Posted on November 19, 2004
I often wonder why I blog. In the beginning it was to write ten minutes a day, as my distant mentor Natalie Goldberg recommended, so as to improve my skills and hone my creativity.
I’ve done that for years. I’ve filled notebook upon notebook with my handwritten script; then I turned to the computer keyboard because my hands began to work more slowly while my thoughts maintained the same speed. It seemed a perfect transition.
But when I write online something happens. It begins to be about the audience instead of being about writing. It begins to be about pleasing the other, rather than pleasing the self.
Natalie Goldberg warns against the editor who resides in every writer. She says to beware of that perfectionist within who wants the writer to revise every sentence even before the next sentence is formed. And it is this perfectionist that the ten minutes a day exercise keeps at bay.
One is to write as if words didn’t matter, as if acceptance were a permanent condition, and as if every thought were viable. This isn’t true, of course, but writing as if it were frees the author to experiment, to create, and to indulge. The important thing to remember when you write online is that what those out there think isn’t as important as releasing the editor within to go on vacation.
See more 10 Minutes in category Writing
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Posted on November 18, 2004
Martha Stewart has been in the Big House for a few weeks now, if memory serves correctly. And, as we bear down on the holiday season, I’m wondering how Martha is faring. I have read she is writing a book about her experiences, but it won’t be available for several months.
So I’d like to offer some ideas to Martha as she works on her book.
Dear Martha,
I know you are living in a rather austere environment, given where you came from. Yet, consider that many people live in just as austere an environment 24/7. So, while that market might not be the one you are looking to attract, wouldn’t it be great if you could provide some suggestions for them to make their holiday as merry as yours will be next year? Who knows where this might lead?
Given your Spartan circumstances, how have you managed? Do you find a creative outlet in cardboard toilet paper rolls? Are you suggesting to the chefs in the kitchen how they might spruce up a holiday meal for inmates? Are you arguing with yourself that less decorating is more?
Or, all humor aside, are you re-evaluating what is important in life? Inquiring minds want to know. In the meantime, your magazine still finds its way to my door.
Sincerely,
Anne
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene
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Posted on November 17, 2004
There is a wonderful web site out there for Democrats in withdrawal. It’s called www.sorryeverybody.com. Basically, it is a collection of photographs sent in by people like you and me, and each photo shows an apology to the rest of the world for our country’s having elected President Bush to a second term.
The web site doesn’t wring its virtual hands; it doesn’t make grandiose analytical assumptions; it doesn’t urge a recount in questionable counties. Rather, it seems to be a grass roots effort to remind the rest of the world that over 55 million people didn’t vote for Bush, and that many of them are apologizing for those who did.
I think this is a good idea, especially when the President talks of acquiring political collateral, when his new Cabinet seems to be more recalcitrant than his old one, and when there isn’t an analytical thinker in sight.
Instead of feeling vanquished, those of us who didn’t vote for Bush can remind the global community that, election results notwithstanding, there is still a formidable number of citizens with a world view here in the Red/Blue Land. Please take a look at www.sorryeverybodylcom.
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election, Personal Pleas
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Posted on November 16, 2004
I’m not one of those people who stick to the same hairstyle year after year. Instead, I change once every two or three months. Since this time last November, I’ve had long hair, straight hair, permed hair, colored hair, shoulder length hair, a bob, and now – what I can only describe as a white girl’s Hallie Berry. Or maybe a shorn poodle.
When my hair was long, it took hours to dry. And then I needed to curl it or put it up on a bun. Not that a bun is such a horrible thing, but it does beg the question, “Why grow your hair long in the first place?” I never could answer that question satisfactorily. Now, I’ve gone from high maintenance to no maintenance, as in wash and go. So far I’m loving it.
The only problem is that I never look like the photo you took of me the last time we were together. Case in point: Yesterday, I was pawing – isn’t that what poodles do? – through a couple boxes of old photographs and was struck with how many different hairstyles I’ve had, not just in the past twelve months but in general. It was the same person regardless of the hairdo, but it was disconcerting to see how her looks changed so often. If I didn’t know this woman personally, I might think she was twins . . . or triplets.
I’ve always experimented with hair, so maybe my secret passion is to be a hairdresser. But instead of taking classes and renting a chair in a high class salon, I’ve just used myself as a client list.
See more 10 Minutes in category Me/Family
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Posted on November 15, 2004
It started three years ago when my friend, Noreen, and her husband, George, showed up on our doorstep – not unexpectedly – to help us decorate our Christmas tree. Until then, this task was relegated to me alone; and it had become something of a chore.
It’s not that Earl doesn’t like the Christmas season; in fact, his family does it in style. But standing there putting hooks on ornaments and arranging them one by one on the tree just isn’t his thing.
So when Noreen and George offered their expertise, I grabbed at the opportunity. They’ve been coming ever since. Now Noreen and George know a thing or two about decorating a home for the season, since they have a large house and put up trees in their great room, their foyer, their den, and their family room. This is for starters, since Noreen also collects Santa Clauses, which make an annual appearance as well.
My friends arrived yesterday and left this afternoon. In between, we decorated our one little tree and reminisced. I think that is what makes this new tradition so much fun for me, since I’ve known these special friends forty years.
Noreen found the little plaster tree that my son Kevin had made in kindergarten, and I found the lockets my son Keith had turned into ornaments. As we hung them on the tree, these discoveries led to other memories, until Noreen said, “We do have a history together, don’t we?”
Since my children are both coming for Christmas this year — for the first time in recent memory – it feels good to be getting ready early. I plan to enjoy every moment of the season.
See more 10 Minutes in category Me/Family, Nostalgia, Special Events
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Posted on November 13, 2004
George Bush and his moral majority won the election. Mostly by mobilizing white, Christian, midwestern and southern voters, Bush succeeded in racking up a lead in those states that was insurmountable, even given the numbers of voters in the states on the east and west coasts.
I promised myself I wouldn’t wax angst about what’s done. But I am struck with the impact of it all as I read emails from close friends who voted as I did. As a group, we are somewhat frightened. Maybe almost intimidated.
One friend, who will remain nameless to protect her, notes that she is “an unfortunate but proud eastern liberal, who has a conscience and a morality that includes everyone regardless of religious affiliation or race or sexual preference etc., etc. I am really, really offended that the current “spin” is that morality won. What does that say about the losers…me and you?”
Another friend started her letter to the editor of her local newspaper with this sentence:“While pundits debate what Democrats might have done differently, this election was still a triumph of ignorance, hate, and fear over reason, love, and compassion.”
This is a strong statement, and my friend (who will also be nameless) lists several examples in support of her viewpoint.
It’s scary that, in our own country, those who didn’t vote for the lead dog feel the need to be careful. But that is the sense I get from the emails I receive, even thought they are forthright in their sentiment. It’s a sad state of affairs and not at all what our founding fathers had in mind.
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election, Things to Ponder
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Posted on November 12, 2004
We have an appointment this afternoon with a real estate agent. No, we’re not selling. Rather, the agent has a client who claims to be willing to pay ten thousand dollars a month for a home on water for June, July, and August of 2005.
My mouth gaped at the dollar figure, just as Earl’s had done when he first heard this offer. I mean, you could do a lot with thirty thousand dollars?
But the more I think about it, the more questions I have. Of course, ten thousand dollars covers far more than our mortgage. But for that amount of money, would the temporary residents expect us to pay all the utilities as well? Would they mow our acre of lawn? Would they eat the salmon left in our freezer? I suspect the answers are “Yes,” “No,” and “Quite possibly.”
What if they smoked or had pets? What if they were wild party people? What do we do with all the subscriptions and mail we receive each day? And my piano. Would I give that up for three months? Where would Earl and I live in the meantime? Most likely, we’d have to rent some other place, which cuts further into the profit.
The money certainly is enticing; otherwise, we wouldn’t have agreed to meet the real estate agent. But I’m not sure I’m willing to have people take over my home, read my books, use my computers, and generally know a lot about me through the home I have.
If it were you, what would you do?
See more 10 Minutes in category Personal Pleas, Things to Ponder
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Posted on November 11, 2004
The morning found me puttering around the living room, moving an easy chair to make way for the annual Christmas tree, and pushing the couch this way and that. It probably doesn’t have the status of ‘hobby,’ but I enjoy changing furniture around. I’ve enjoyed it since the first time I had my own bedroom and control over where the bed and desk were placed. That was sixth grade; and by the time we moved from that apartment, I’d discovered fifteen, may twenty, ways to rearrange my room. My friend Carol recalls this as one of my claims to fame.
Over the years I’ve continued this activity with zest. It’s about connecting with one’s things, possibly recalling where each item came from. For instance to move the cocktail table requires taking it apart after removing the items on its top. Then, when the table is repositioned, I replace the items while remembering that the drum came from our Alaskan trip, the Remington calendar came from my aunt and uncle, and the book on the art of Charles Russell was a gift to Earl from me. Each holds a fond memory.
Earl shakes his head when I start rearranging things. He claims it makes him afraid to get up at night for a glass of water because he and the cocktail table might meet head on. But I persist. If we can achieve a new look by rearranging rather than buying new, just think of the money I’ve saved.
See more 10 Minutes in category Me/Family, Nostalgia
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Posted on November 10, 2004
If this title makes you think I have reneged on my word not to discuss the recent election in public, never fear. Instead, read on.
I had a sad experience yesterday when my friend, Carol, and I visited the Tippecanoe Battlefield just outside Lafayette, Indiana. We’d met in the town to stay in a B&B for a grown-up girls’ sleepover. The afternoon was brisk but bright, and we decided to immerse ourselves in local history. So we drove to where a decisive battle was waged on November 8, 1811. Ironically, we arrived one day –and almost two hundred years — after that ominous anniversary.
We didn’t know a thing about the Battle of Tippecanoe; and both of us thought it was important for the Civil War. Which just goes to show how uninformed two college graduates can be. Instead, what we learned was that the Battle of Tippecanoe was a major factor in the approaching War of 1812.
Briefly, Indiana was not part of the Union in those days; and the British in the area attempted to incite the local Indian population again the Americans who were moving west and settling in the region. Without the British urgings, the Indians led by Tecumseh and his brother, The Prophet, were relatively willing to live side by side with the new settlers. But the British convinced them otherwise.
On the morning of November 8, 1911, approximately nine hundred military led by General Benjamin Henry Harrison attacked an equal number of Indians before they could attack the militia. In the end, the Indians were decimated.
Indians were decimated in many places in those days; and that’s what was sad about this battleground. As we walked through autumn leaves and read the monuments to the military fallen, there was no acknowledgement of what the Indians had suffered or lost. There was only the victor’s point of view. This probably isn’t unusual, but it seemed lopsided since Tecumseh and his tribe had settled the Wabash Valley long before the settlers and soldiers came. They had lived in peace until the soldiers showed up.
It made me wonder if anything has changed since then.
See more 10 Minutes in category Politics, Special Events, Things to Ponder
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