Healing from the Inside Out: A New Age for Collaboration, Community, and...

The Indian Child Welfare Act

Then and now

15 Jul 2021

29 Sep 2020

This year in July 2022 my hair is past my shoulders.  Long enough to braid a tiny braid at any rate. I had a growth showing on my MRI 17 Dec 2019, had an Ultra sound on 30 December 2019 and diagnosed with Cancer 02 Jan 2020. I spent the entire Pandemic doing cancer treatment.  I am grateful for all the medical personnel who walked with me on this part of my journey. 

Yeah, hair was long enough to see after a year or so.  Thought I had one where all my hair was gone.  My niece did a short video of when she cut my waist length hair so it wouldn't look so strange as it fell out.  I'd had straight hair all my life.  Now, it's grown out in curls.  

22 July 2022

In July 2022, I accomplished a lifelong dream that was rescheduled from Aug 2020.  Yay, ChiiMigwitch to my niece, sister and friend for making it possible for me to see Stonehenge in person. 

I have pictures of that day, though not many.  My phone would not let me take pictures.  I left my camera at the Air BNB we stayed at.  Back at the Center, my phone started working.  Fortunately, Sis took several pictures.  

This is sort of a review of the past few years for those who only read this blog.  My Author blog will have most of my writerly doings which shall include the business side of things as those are an inescapable part of business life.  

Chii-Miigwitch for reading this post.  Future posts will be back to musings on life, perhaps 500-1000 words at most.  Flash fiction?  Flash non-fiction?  Whatever. Perhaps more along the lines of my news articles back in the day. Ahhh, decisions, decisions, and such choices I have. 

Speech at TEC Meeting

What follows is the text copy of my speech I gave at the TEC Meeting on 28 January 2022.

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 To: Minnesota Chippewa Tribe Members

From: Mildred R. Holmes, Bois Forte Delegate

Re: Delegate - Responsibilities 

It is the responsibility of each Delegate to ensure their understanding of what is involved in the process for current Minnesota Chippewa Tribe Constitutional Convention.  The Constitutional Convention has been meeting since 2018.  

During the first year, community members attended the meetings held on their reservation and within the urban areas of Duluth and Minneapolis.  Much of what has been written and debated on has come from those early meetings.  

Clarification on the following: 

1. Overall Constitution or governing document at the level of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe.

2. Individual Constitutions or governing documents for each reservation within the parameters of the overall Constitution.

3.  Each reservation’s individual treaty rights can be addressed within their own Constitutions.  There are general treaties, and specific treaties each of which established the individual reservations and the rights, duties and responsibilities of each of the participants in that treaty.

Now, the Convention Delegates are fast tracking as the original Delegates have sifted through and brought together ideas and suggestions for the good of the whole, whilst keeping in mind the individuals.  

One of the responsibilities of the individual members of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe was to find out their Clan, ways to discover were disseminated during that portion of the discussion. Why, you are thinking?  We are well aware that not everyone was given the opportunity to learn these ways.  And we, the original Delegates, want the new, or replacement document, to include our identity as a tribe with individual Bands as directed by various Band members.  

It was also discussed and agreed on that certain values and beliefs needed to be included as Articles within the new document: Rights of Nature, land, government, etc.  

Another of the Delegate responsibilities is to be open to suggestions and ideas of others.  There was a process in place to deal with voting and only the appointed delegates have the vote which is one vote per Delegation.  Individual members can attend meetings and join in the discussions as long as they are civil and respectful.  At times, one must agree to disagree which can happen if the process to get consensus breaks down, in which case majority rules.  

As for those who say they didn’t agree to these stipulations, then they aren’t the original appointed Delegates and must therefore catch up within their own delegation.  

What we want now from the general membership of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe is further direction regarding Enrollment and membership requirements.  And the removal of the Secretary of the Interior from the approval process of the Constitution and/or amendments needs to take place one way or the other.  This removal was suggested by Secretary of the Interior in 2017.  Now whether that means amending the current Constitution or replacing with a new document is up to each member of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe. 

We’d like a referendum vote on those two issues, not just amendments or resolutions.  There are other issues which certainly can be addressed by the Delegates in bringing forward a new document or a changed document for ratification by the general members of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe.  

My personal opinion is that I don’t want to get my fellow Band members hopes up by having meetings to encourage discussion and decisions if “Nothing is going to happen anyway.”  I’ve heard that too many times as I was growing up and lately as these meeting drag on going over and over the same issues.  No, we are not going to start over every time a new person jumps on the Delegate committee as has been the case the past few months.  

“We didn’t agree,” “We need to discuss with community members,” are not valid if the previously appointed Delegates already agreed.  If someone didn’t attend the publicly announced meetings or by publicly announced Zoom meetings, then they cannot say they didn’t know.   When I miss a meeting, I try to catch up with what I missed and if the issue was voted on by the group, I don’t impose my ignorance on the rest just because I wasn’t there.  

I tried to have community meetings to disseminate information decided on at the Convention as educational points for members.  Some are interested in one or another of what is presented.  However, one common interest is the issue of enrollment and blood quantum.  Now, the blood quantum issue was deemed to be irrelevant and an imposed requirement, whether by design or “trying to be helpful” and is no longer an issue for discussion.  The Delegates unanimously agreed that it needs to be eliminated, deleted.  

Enrollment in the MCT is based on being a DESCENDANT of a person on the original roll of April 14, 1941, which is known as the basic membership roll, and the final approval of July 3, 1961 by the Area Director of the BIA.  I am a DESCENDANT of 6 of those on that basic membership roll.  My mother was on that roll as well as grandparents and great grandparent.  

For a member of the Tribal Executive Committee to say that descendants don’t have a say in what happens is not only disrespectful, s/he is also saying that all of the enrolled members who are direct descendants of someone on that roll have no rights, including those on the TEC itself.  I, myself, am 65 and have been hearing this argument all my life.  

All the way back to the first treaty signed with a foreign government, the Chippewa have refused to sign treaties until provision was made for all, including “half-breeds” meaning those children left with the tribe when their non-Chippewa father went back to where ever he came from after making his fortune by dealing with the Indians.  Has this caring and concern for all the children born to an Anishinabe/Chippewa/Ojibway changed in my lifetime?  

One other point I want to make is the reason for all the land being divided and sold is that “half-breeds” were allotted land and Indian Agents weren’t too particular if someone showed up claiming to be half Chippewa to find out if this was true.  We need to stop calling our own people Half one tribe or another.  You don’t hear “Europeans” saying they’re half breeds if their bloodline included non-Europeans.  

Has Clan membership changed?  I was told as a child what my Clan was even if I wasn’t allowed to take part in ceremonies.  I’ve included all those who lived within my village, my reservation, my Band and as well as those of the MCT as family, as Clan cause we are all related or so I was told. 

Where did the idea of denying rights to descendants come from?  Not me.  As far as I’m concerned, all descendants of those on the MCT basic roll have the right to voice their opinion and to help if they so choose.  If they don’t voice their opinion or decline to help, they then agree to whatever is decided on when issues come up for a vote.  

At least, that is my understanding of what we, as a People, as a Tribe, as a Clan member, a Bandmember, and member of the Anishinabeg are to do. 

When I was always being told to be quiet or to shut up, I was amazed as I wasn’t just speaking for myself.  I’d always been pushed by my contemporaries to ask, to find out.  Being less than wise and mostly being on the excluded list from discussion as we were considered “not old enough,” we were left in the dark unless an older person took the time to explain things to us.  I made it one of my life’s policies to explain things to my children as much as I could.  

On the other hand, it could be that I was repeating something that had already been discussed and people didn’t want to tell me that it had already been decided.  How was I to know if people didn’t say?  Now this is one of the reasons there were “runners” or people who went around to let people  know what was happening.  I think this is one of the duties we, as delegates, accepted.  

Yes, we make decisions for everyone with our one vote.  This is why we are working at getting one central document that will address common issues to  all tribe members.  When this is done, we can follow up with our own communities as to the specifics for our own Band/Reservation.  *Last night during our after meeting discussion, it was suggested that perhaps we could write 2, 3 documents that could be presented for the People to choose from.  

So can we, as Delegates, agree to get this central document done so that Individual documents can be written and everything can then be proposed to all of the membership?  

One thing sure, Bois Forte’s document will include issues specific to our locality as well as the ceded territory rights and obligations. We need the overarching issues so ours can be defined within those parameters as well as our treaty parameters. Perhaps treaty parameters needs to be kept separate.  

Well, that’s a discussion for Bois Forte members. Not the whole tribe. 

Chii-Miigwuitch, Thanks for listening. 

Endings or Beginnings

 My Mother died in 2015.  On 23 July to be precise.  She was born 02 January 1936.  I woke up this morning feeling excited. Wasn’t sure why.  Then I opened my eyes.  I was in the room she’d occupied for 20 years and my excitement faded. 

I pondered this for a few minutes.  Thought perhaps she’d visited me in my dream. Nope.  I set it aside for a bit and went about my usual morning routine.  Well, not usual, as I’d woken up at 0514 or some such moment.  A bit of a disappointment when I looked at my clock to see what time it was. 

I have been up at 2, 2:30, 3 or sometimes my alarm set at 0400 will waken me.  Not today though.  I discovered a short while later, when I’d had to go get my phone cause I was expecting a message, that it had been shut off. 

I shook my head.  It had shut off whilst I was talking on the phone to my sister, so I needed to recharge it.  I shut it off again for some reason or another and thus my dilemma at being woken late.  

Now why is this so important?  Why, you ask, do I have to be up by 4?  And not just any other time, 4 o’clock in the morning, precisely on the dot?  

Why, this is the time I have decided upon to take the new medication, I was so graciously informed by my physician, that’s instrumental in maintaining the delicate nature of my body’s ability to keep me in the lifestyle to which I have struggled mightily to obtain. 

My disappointment hinges on the fact that this medication cannot be interfered with by anything containing Vitamin D.  Which vitamin I have been prescribed by another of my doctors, the one who is directing my struggle to maintain my current lifestyle.  This particular vitamin cannot be taken for four, 4, niiwin, quatros, hours either side of ingesting this medicine. 

Since my breakfast usually contains some ingredient containing said vitamin, I console myself with coffee, tea or water with my non-buttered toast.  I do not live within easy reach of those places that cater to breakfasts of donuts, long johns, croissants or even the dreaded oatmeal cookies.  I dread oatmeal cookies cause I must consume those with the obligatory glass of milk. Yep. Lactose intolerance dictates less of those too.

I have discovered that vitamin D is added to a great deal of the foods we eat whether we realize it or not. 

This explains my disappointment cause I look forward to the 8th hour of whatever current day I happen to wake up on time for. 

But not why I woke up feeling excited.  Least not til I was over on that usual haunt I check out daily. That’s when it hit me. 

January 2, Mom’s birthday.  I’d usually take her out to the casino on her birthday. 

Some habits take long to change. 

Egg Nog: my son's first attempt.

Laura's Lessons: What I've Learned

I've been watching Laura's videos for a couple years now.  Her vids were being posted in Ireland and I don't really remember now how I came across her. Her way of talking reminded me so much of my father's manner of speaking.  

I watched quite a few of her videos before I ever checked out her website.  Then I used some of her real simple worksheets and then in 2018, Christmas Eve to be exact, I finally decided to find out what "Bullet Journal" was.  She'd mentioned this a few times along with some of her other things on planning.  Long story short, I've done the Bullet Journal and am still working on it.  

Revising and reviewing  and setting it up to fit me and my style of working.  This is the longest I've stuck with one way of doing things.  And, No, I Do Not Have ADD, ADHD or such things.  I do have PTSD and Bullet Journalling has helped me a lot.  

I did her worksheets on setting goals when I was working on my business plan during 2019.  These helped me focus and what I'd already accomplished, what I wanted to do and what needed to be done to accomplish my goals. 

Then 2020 happened.  Well, for me it really started the last week before Christmas 2019 and all of this will be in my forthcoming book "I May Not Have Time."  The past couple months I've been picking up the pieces that got scattered and realizing that Yeah, I have come a long way since last year.  

Laura has developed some courses that I have yet to explore.  I'd gotten a notification from Facebook that I hadn't visited her private group in the last 30 days and I could leave the group if I wanted to.  No!  I didn't want to leave, I'm just working on "#Getting My Shit Together." 

This video was on her wall, so I watched it and the 10 habits are something that I've become more aware of and a couple I was already incorporating into my life from "before."  Before what? ya may rightfully ask and I'll tell ya that it's Before the Covid.  Some of you may be looking for help in setting up your New Year's resolutions and/or just reviewing for whatever reasons.  Give this video a looksee for anything you may be missing or perhaps reaffirm those you already do. 

☘️ 10 Habits That Changed My Life (While Suffering From Depression) • Li...

Another Day in the Rez Life...

 Well, yesterday I spent the day on the phone talking to the Tech people.  Something had happened to my computer's battery and it wouldn't shut down and it overheated.  Even after hitting the power button, the reset button, or one of the many thousands of buttons that sit upon the keyboard.  T'any rate, the fan wouldn't shut down either...Naturally, I hit the panic button since that was the only button left to hit.  Particularly since my keyboard was getting hotter and hotter. 

Heck, I even went outside where, thankfully, I was able to set the laptop down, well, leaned it against the wall and the porch railing.  It had cooled down and I brought it back inside and noticed this strange orange light on the front of my laptop.  I'd hit the power button once again, even holding it since this had always worked before when I needed the computer to turn on.  Nope, not a thing happened.  

I tilted my head and listened.  What I expected this to do, I'm not sure.  It's just something that I'd been trained to do by one or t'other of my parents or grandparents.  Heck one of my ancestors, coulda even been one of the many cousins who stroll through my life and yard at the most inopportune times which means mainly when one doesn't really need help.  

However, this time it produced the white light meaning, I think, that my computer was turning on like it should.  I went and filled my coffee cup as I was hoping to get the final 5000 words needed for completion of my NaNoWriMo word goal for the month. 

 I tilted my head and listened again cause my keyboard wasn't lit up, then noticed my screen wasn't filled with the picture that normally means I have to enter my pin.  Hmmph. My eyes then went to the orange light at the front of the laptop.  Nothing.  My laptop had shut off.  Did I not hold the button long enough?  

Repeat all the above actions, 'cept this time I left my computer sitting outside for 10 or so minutes.  Well, after the third, or was it the fiftieth time of hitting those buttons, I finally grabbed my phone.  Although I used this with the greatest trepidation as I didn't want whatever what infecting my laptop to jump to my phone.  Naturally this would be the greater disaster as I have fallen behind times in the matter of my phone which happens to still be an S7.  

Luckily I was still able to Google the Support people.  After following the ever helpful suggestion to take out my battery, I learned how to open the flap that covers the serial and other numbers that support people are always asking for when one is in the midst of the latest current crisis that gremlins dearly love to see when one is in the middle of shops being closed and one doesn't really want to call those Tech people.  Did Murphy leave specific instructions for the gremlins today?  

Well, I finally screwed up my courage, after imbibing another cup of Java, wishing for one of those Carmel Macchiatos, hot, whole milk that was in the nearest Mickey D's forty, yepper, FoRtY miles away, and called the support number listed.  

Yes!  They answered and was I ever so glad to hear that accented voice that means my problems would soon be solved.  Well as soon as I could make myself understood and further to understand what I was being asked for.  Yay.  ONly had to ask once for the repeat of the instructions.  Since I had the choice, I was in the middle of giving her the 10 or 11 digit number when she said she'd send me to Tech since I had Premium support good til 2021.  Repeat everything to this Tech person who listened patiently as I explained what led to my pushing of the panic button and having to call Tech Support right in the midst of the changing of the shifts.  (This was the only explanation I had for the girl's quick hand-off and I am not familiar with world time zones even though I have these posted on my computer.  Oh!  My laptop was not working so therefore I couldn't access the current Tech person's time zone since I haven't mastered the art of double screens on my phone precisely yet.  That only happens when I least expect it.  Oh, those gremlins must be laughing themselves silly now.  Best thing that happened for them since the Co-vid hit.) 

Yay. My computer shut off and I was telling the tech guy that I was half afraid to try turning it on like he was asking.  Well, I finally turned it on.  Yay. It turned on.  He took over my computer, I happily watched his every move, hoping to learn his secret by osmosis or whatever process is prevalent when one is watching an expert at work.  Cause this guy was an expert.  

After talking to his supervisor and needing to check my email for the case stuff since they would be watching this for a couple days seeing's how they couldn't really find a reason why my computer overheated, I am happily back to having several windows open during my current book's progress to final draft status.  

Finally! Another post from Yours Truly.

Ahh, if you haven't been following me over to my Writerly Journal, you might not be aware that I've been happily (though not 100% of the time) planning out my business.  Yepper, took the plunge into the formal business world's idea of success, ya know the one where one has to have a business plan to start with?

Well, have been doing one and it's now at the point that trips me up because of the (what I consider) nitpicky stuff of tracking expenses.  Right down to the penny or is it percentage of pennies?  And trying to do something called forecasting.  Luckily for me, there are programs that'll help with this.  Unfortunately for me, those things cost many pennies.  Which, being an almost broke fledging author, feels like an awfully high mountain to climb. 

Ahh well, I've climbed what seemed like high mountains, only to discover they were only high hills.  Being a Short Person doesn't help when coming upon these obstacles.  Well, I want to relate something that happened to me only yesterday during one of my monthly sojourns out into the real world. 

My son and I left home, (where I'd left my old computer happily, I hoped, transferring projects, writings, scapples, Scrivenings, etc. to the cloud so I can get them on the new laptop my sons got for me for Mother's Day) to get groceries which I'd only been trying to do for a week.  Got to town where the day's adventure really began.

First off, my son treated me to the Buffet at Jues where we filled our tummies with the good food they make round bout noon time.  As they like to hand out those fortune cookies when one has finished their meal, I looked forward to seeing what mine was.  My son touched them both, chose, and stuck it in his pocket.  He went to settle the bill, came back, sat down and promptly opened the cooky still on the table.  (Mine, in case you're wondering. I still wasn't done eating.) 

Whereupon, I informed him "that's mine."  He started to disagree, then checked his pocket and handed it over.  Well, tossed it on the table.  When I'd finished eating, I opened it, thinking to myself that whatever was in that cooky must have originally been intended for me, having taken a roundabout way to land in my hands.

"Be cautious and examine any business plan."  Hahahohoheehee! 

Course I showed him and informed him quite happily that it must have been intended for me.  He laughed. 

So, we left to get the groceries at the local WalMart (whoa, settle down WalMart haters, I prefer to spend my money at places according to the amount of money I have to spend.  Which as is so often the case with struggling, fledging authors, I have very little of.)  I came across the bridge, went up to the posted Speed and continued my way til the next stop light, having safely made the green lights.

It turned yellow and since I was a tad bit too far to "go faster," since everyone knows that's what those yellow lights mean, I slammed my foot down on the brake, promptly slid halfway into the intersection, son is yelling, 'You didn't have to stop." whilst looking in the mirror at the car behind me.  Fortunately, the driver left me enough room to back up.

Son and I were quiet.  Light turned green, "Go" and I proceeded.  I chanced a peek at my son and sure enough, he had the look.  "Are you mad at me?"  This is because he doesn't like me hitting the brakes too hard and i get comments, observations etc on my driving or rather stopping habits.  This attitude came about because he had to pay for and now knows what brake shoes, pad and perhaps rotors cost.  "No."

Thus ended the days adventures as we proceeded to go home, car loaded with groceries. The end?
Not.  Had to make a u-ie at the turn posted with a detour sign, head back to Hardee's for the Mushroom & Swiss burger my eldest desired for his supper. 

Upon reflection of the day's activities, I think of that fortune cooky and giggle.  I thought the be cautious warning pertained only to my business plan.  Tck, tck, tck.  Silly me.

A Yearly Challenge

“The weather outside is frightful.” It’s many degrees below zero with an even colder wind chill.  The sun is shining, with clouds beginning their dance down from the north.  The snow dances ever so often in the wind.  My mother used to say what they were and I don’t remember.  Perhaps a part of me does.  I wish, nah, not wish, cause I hear that voice in my head telling me “be careful what you wish for.”  Well, it’s not too late to write down what I remember. Perhaps some day, some descendant will wish to read these words.  There’s always one or two in a generation who thinks of the old days.

At any rate, I printed out a list of 365 writing prompts from a website yesterday whilst waiting for lunch down to the RTG. I pressed the print button after I’d taken out all the ads and what not.  It didn’t print, so I asked Sis how the thing printed.  She said “Hit the print button.”
“Which one? Is there a special way to do this?”  I was only wanting to know cause it, computer and printer, are on a private network and I didn’t know if the admins had set up a special procedure or…t’any rate, I brought the screen back up.
“That’s it.”
I hit the print button.  Nothing happened.
“Brother!  Is this printer working?”
He came over.  Pushed a command on the printer and said “Door’s ajar.”

Whereupon I remembered I’d put the paper in cause he handed me some just prior.  Naturally, I didn’t make sure I heard the click.  He shut it and the printer promptly spit out two copies.  I was ever so glad I’d reduced the number of pages down from 64 to 8.
“Now what am I gonna do with two copies?”
“One for editing and one for reading?”  Sometimes, brother doesn’t understand a thing I mean.  Perhaps that’s cause I was being rhetorical and he didn’t know that?  Well, I don’t think I’ll ever break myself of the talking aloud to myself habit.

During lunch, I conversed with sister about this and that.  Just as we were finishing, an Elder came in to collect his lunch.  On his way out, I called him over and set him a challenge.  I gave him a copy of the prompts and told him that in 365 days we’d see who wrote the most during the past 365 days.
“I’ll do it.”  After a few minutes thought, “I’ll probably do this for three days and then forget.”
So, I came home and didn’t do any writing on the prompts, though I did do some work on my lesson assignments.  Not enough to post it though.

This morning I reset this daily journal from the backup, set up the note cards and scene cards for the rest of the year.  I put a blank one in for next year so that all I have to do is copy over for year after year.  I see from the last date, it was four years ago since I wrote in this particular one.  Now, none of this has anything at all to do with what the outside weather is doing right now.  It is, as I’d hoped, something to spark the ol’ writing something.  Perhaps, I’ll look at this a year from now and just use the same prompt?  Perhaps not.

T’any rate, it’s time to venture out in the cold and see if I can hitch a ride down to lunch.

Prayers and Good thoughts.

I've been sitting here this morning since the Thunder Spirits woke me.  I checked out different posts over on my second favorite haunt, Facebook.  I said my prayers and sent good thoughts to all those standing for the water over in North Dakota.

I think of the struggle we're going to have when we can finally go out on the lake to get our annual eating rice, Maanomin, cause the waters are too high.  This was brought up at our meeting with the Reservation Tribal Council.  I think of the old days when there were hundreds of canoes out on the lake, reseeding all areas, especially the few who tipped over.  After the first surge of disappointment, the inevitable comment, "well, I reseeded the lake for seven years from now" or, "I know where to come in seven years."  Now, there might be a hundred on a good day.

Yeah.  Imagine me, saying the old days.  I grew up waiting for the annual ricing days, cause we'd have food to eat, and hunters went out and brought back deer, duck and fish.  And this was 50 years ago.  50  years.  An unimaginable time for a young child of ten.  Heck, I didn't even have a good concept of weeks.

I remember the first time I put out tobacco before going on the lake.  I was scared, a little awed, cause I was finally grown up enough to do this for myself.  On the first day, there was an Elder who said prayers, offered traditional gifts, and asked for protection on the water for all of us going on the lake.  Why ask for protection?  Cause there are accidents on the lake, even among those who are expert canoers.  News of someone tipping over raced through the village, relief when the unfortunate were safe and sound, on the shore.

Now, my son makes sure I put out asemaa before we head out.  I smile, now, thinking, he has the privilege to do so.  Has had the privilege for 20 years.  Out of respect for me, he waits for me to do so.  I understand the feeling of being in harmony with the Spirits when we do this.  We parch rice when we get back with the rice we've gathered for the day.  We always put the heads in the fire, our offering for those in the next world.  I think of the green rice going to seed the waters above.

I think of my loved ones who've crossed the lake many times and did the same thing we do when we come ashore.  And I think of them happily doing the same thing when we send the green rice to them.  I think of them smiling, visiting, having a good time cause they have rice again.  They have deer, fish, duck.  They have much more cause we remember and put out tobacco, gifts and do the things they taught us to do.

All these thoughts have been in my mind when I check out the Facebook posts about the water protectors over on the Standing Rock reservation.  I have been there, lived in the Dakotas for a few years, met the people and have made a friend or two from the land around.  I stood on the banks of the Missouri River, the Heart River.  I've seen pictures of the land down in Iowa, where they've dug down 20 feet, disturbing earth that has been there for millions of years.  Now, nothing will grow there.  Rather, what will grow there?  Ahh, all I can do is pray and send good thoughts for all those struggling to protect what is left.

Why don't I go out there?  Cause I have things to do here, where I am.  All waters need prayer, good thoughts and our mainstay, Manoomin, is being threatened.  I did what I can, the best way I know how.

And why do I post a lot of BBC articles?  Simple.  In the 60's and 70's, the only clear station we could get was Channel 5, a Canadian station.  I actually knew more about what was happening in Canada, then my own country.  Guess that's what happens when one lives in the "wilderness."

Another day in my life

Well, guys, it suddenly behooved me to post on here since I haven't posted in such a long time. Course if ya'll follow my writerly blog, you have some idea of the major change in my life over the past year.  And the latest happening surely can't be blamed on the g-r-e-m-l-i-n-s.  Or...can it?

Quite possibly, since I h-a-v-e been messing around with machines this very day.

As some of you know, I generally do my spring cleaning in the fall and leave yard stuff for the spring.  Mostly, in the hopes of some of the stuff mysteriously disappearing when the snow melts.  Hasn't quite worked out yet.  As Father likes to say, or rather quote: "Hope springs eternal."  There's always hope that one spring, I'll emerge from my winter's long nap and find my yard all ready for spring planting.  Yep,yep, yep.  There's hope in this heart of mine yet.

Hmm.  Mayhap, if I leave some goodies for the b-r-o-w-n-i-e-s?  At any rate, those rabbit holes are appearing everywhere today.  Started over to my favorite haunt yesterday with a post by Will Hahn, author of "Tales of the Lands of Hope" and this morning with a disappearing pin that was of intense enticement that I got lost in the land of Pinterest for 3 whole hours.

And since I plan on being somewhere else this week-end (which for me is Wed, Thurs, and Friday), I duly decided to forego my daily stint at writing and clear up some items on my to-do's.  Which is where I promptly found out that g-r-e-m-l-i-n-s may have found their way back.  Bout two, three weeks ago, one sock decided to go adventuring and left through the sewer system after causing a ruckus with the washing machine.  Fortunately, all the water that overflowed in the kitchen sink was caught in time to stave off requiring the services of a professional plumber and leaving a bigger mess.

Now, some of you may be wondering what the kitchen sink has to do with washing machines and why didn't the washing machine overflow.  Luck, I tell ya, puure-dee luck.  Or, perhaps, it was the fact that the builder of this house put the trap for the washing machine in the wrong place.  When the kitchen sink starts backing up, that's when we check the washer.  As for the dryer, well, let's just say, that it's a darn good thing that company is out of business.  Over the past 20 years, we've done some work arounds on the advice of our favorite fixer-upper over to the hardware store.  Good thing, folks around here know how to make-do.  I'm not as good as my mother was.  I found that out just a few minutes ago when I promptly decided it was best if I did a bit of writing.

After my brother and our cousin fixed the plumbing for me, I left the washer and dryer alone.  Til today.  Being as how my son and I are fast running out of clean clothes and have no desire to "find our cleanest dirty shirt," I decided to clean the dryer vent and clear out the machines a little bit since I'd pretty nearly finished with the rest of the to-do's in the laundry area.  'Cept for a new furnace. Must remember to add that to the list of things to get done before the snow flies.  I wanted to get all the dust producing chores out of the way as I want to paint.  And, voila, got my wish.

Plenty of dust of the lint variety and remembered why I hate cleaning the dryer vent.  Specially as the fragranced dryer sheets left their mark behind.  After sneezing and coughing for a bit, I got the vent completely unhooked.  Well, okay, I had wrestled with the outlet plug for a few minutes.  Oh-kay, more than a few minutes.  Decided it was time to get my brother to rescue me as son was engrossed in some doings on the net.  Sides, which, I D-i-d N-o-t want him to know as he gives me the look which I didn't quite want to face on this trying day.  Oh no, at least, not til he left for work.

Usually, brother goes on lunch break when son goes to work.  Brother took his lunch break early and he came over.  Course, he gave me a bit of grief but that's better than my son's sort of grief.  I went in to sister's to give  her a report on the community dealings.  I met brother on the way back and he said he unplugged the dryer and unhooked the vent from the machine.  Yes!  Not.

I cleaned the lint screen and the inside of the little tube.  Took the vent hose apart and cleared out the elbow and sleeve that hooks up to the machine.  Washed those in the bath tub as I just felt like it.  Took the vent and looked inside.  Reached in as far as I could on both sides.  Pondered a few minutes, shook the thing, nothing felt out so I decided to wash it to, being that it was aluminum, it would dry fast.  Yeah!

I ran water in one end of the tube, shook it while lifting it to let the water run through to the other end.  Was doing this cautiously, cause if anything came out, I could put the bucket under it to catch it.  Then, I lifted it straight up and...horror of horrors.  Not a spider, such as the two I'd found this morning.  All those little floating black things was the wet, black lint I'd shaken from the tube.

I stared in utter fascination at the amount of it.

Then....

Heard the gurgling of the water flowing down the drain.  Then...nothing.  I leaped, I tell ya, that was a sight to see in the tiny little bathroom we have.  How I managed not to fall and injure myself is a miracle and my guardian angel must be happy to have things to do once again.  Too late.

All those lint pieces were now clogging the drain.  Nooowww what.  I pulled as much of it out as I could and grabbed the little strainer thing we have for catching hair and wondered, why or why, did I not think to make sure it was in the proper place.  I watched in relief when the water started draining, then horror when it started plugging up.

Frantic again, I looked around for something, anything, with which to stave off having to call brother and cousin again.  Aha!  The plunger.  I quickly used it and felt such a sense of joy when the water and everything went down the drain.  Well, not everything.  I made sure the little spider looking lint pieces stayed in the tub.  Decided to take a break and write a post whist waiting for the little spider-looking lint pieces to dry out a bit before I get up the courage to clean the tub, before cleaning the rest of the vent and putting everything back together.

So...tell me, how is your day going?

Old times

I was over to my favorite haunt this a.m. and came across a couple posts that had me laughing and now I'm thinking bout memories.  Course, my favorite haunt used to be second favorite haunt and now that most things have been more or less fixed, specially since I quit messing bout with coding and such, I spend quite a bit of time over there.

At any rate, the first post was something bout "if a woman says "do what you want," best stand still, do not breathe, etc and I laughed.  A few memories popped right into my head, mostly of mom, an aunt or two, a few friends and neighbors,  and then popped into my head those very same ladies with "the Look."  It was the Look that popped into my head when I read the words "Just play Dead."

The second post showed an old style Jingle dress dancer.  Took away my breath just watching her.  It was great, hearing those jingles, seeing the smile on her face made me feel good, happy.  Tried to download it, instead I shared it so it'd be on my wall as I'm not friends with the original poster.

That brought back memories of my childhood, being at powwows, and learning to dance.  Going barefoot most summers, even when it rained, sometimes, or should I say, especially, after it rained.  Those times are when I mostly got the Look.  Tramping in mud was most especially frowned upon.  Never did stop me though.  What finally stopped me was the time when I stepped on a piece of glass and, well, the sight of that much blood pouring from my foot was a bit scary.

Particularly when accompanied by the shouts of my sisters and friends who were trying to quiet me so the adults wouldn't come running to find out what happened.  We had to give up when we couldn't stop the bleeding.  Had to face the Look.  Especially on five or six of those very same ladies.

Oh, I know the context of that particular meme was probably written by a man, specially after that song popularized "Deer in Headlight look" but every time I see it, I think of those ladies.

Ahh, memories.  Going to go create a few more.

A to Z Challenge Reflections

http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/2016/05/2016-to-z-challenge-reflections.html

Reflections on the 2016 A to Z Challenge.  One major-time!  I do not have time to read everything I wanted to during the month.  I will be availing myself of the list during the rest of the year.  I did have fun reading many of the posts.  I think, not, I know the main reason I didn't have time to read as much as I liked was because I checked out blog posts as well as sites.  That can seriously cut into reading time.  Another thing was reading the other comments and checking out those who made some interesting points.

I also do Camp NaNoWriMo during the month.  Two major Challenges in one month?  Can be done, with some planning.  I wrote my entries in February and March using my Scrivener, Aeon and Scapple programs.  Not that I was paid to write that, it's just my life has gotten simpler using these and at the same time, more complicated because I happen to think that I can do so much more now that my tracking and writing has gotten simpler.  As I scheduled the posts, I edited.   Doing both well takes a bit of pre-planning.

One problem I had was finding follow links.  I thought back to when I first started blogging.  There were a couple that I didn’t even have an idea about doing until I had read a few of the blogs of the more experienced bloggers.  Of all the sites I checked out, the NaNoWriMo and A to Z challenge sites were the most helpful, especially the Captain’s Ninjas.  A few were helpful enough to send me an email.  I may not have let them know I appreciated the help.  Here is a heartfelt thanks to everyone who has helped me in some way.

However, I would like to point out that, I have and will continue to have my idea of who, what, where, when, and why I write and sometimes I fit in, sometimes, I edit, sometimes I revise.  That’s all anyone can do, really.  So, my take on the whole Challenge?  Have fun, learn one or two things and move on.

Zest

Zest.  Ahh, what a word for this last day of the A to Z Challenge.  Zest.  You know what?  I was in my thirties before I found out what zest as pertains to cooking was.  Yepper, typical rez indian.  Don’t

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really know enough about the world from either viewpoint.  There’s so much tugging at one’s brain when growing up.  Is that fair?  Nope.  Just one of those facts of life.

Even after I found out what zest was, I still don’t use it in my cooking.  The closest is when I peel an orange and eat the white part of the rind and toss the orange part.  Yep, that’s how I was taught to eat that part of the orange.  Don’t really eat lemons or grapefruits.   Well, now grapefruits, once every fourth blue moon.  But I don’t eat the rinds of those fruit either.  Sort of like what’s with that?  Though it does fall into the category of use everything you can.  Don’t think I’ll add that to my repertoire though.  Orange and lemon zest?  Hmm.

I have trouble enough just grating cheese for our once a month or so Indian tacos.  And no, I think you might have already guessed this about me.  I don’t particularly care if I’m politically correct or not, I’ve stated before, you don’t have to read my writing.  Sometimes, I think that one can find anything to be offended about and try to get others to feel guilty about it.  Well, consider some of the trends from the past few years.  Yes, yes, yes, I do know the difference between insult deliberately and insult without thought.

However, as my Mom was fond of saying, “I’m not a mind reader.”  It’s like a few of my Elders tried so hard to get me to learn-”If you can’t laugh at yourself, then don’t laugh at others mistakes.”  Or something to that effect.  Now here I am being polite.

Yep, Polite.  Not politically correct.  Why?  Because we were raised to let others think for themselves.  We were taught that everyone can have their say.  And to stand up for ourselves.  So, I think that zest as applied to life is also made up of oranges and lemons, some whole, some sliced, and some zested.  Probably with a few apples, pears and blueberries tossed in.

What happens when you go grocery shopping?  You pick and choose, you compare, you check out the price and then decide whether or not to buy those products there or do you go somewhere else and buy them?  Unless, of course, if one is in a hurry and just grabs any old thing, heads to the counter and pays for it.

When you get the groceries home and start putting them away, then you discover that one or two of the items are spoiled, imperfect in some way.  What do you do then?  Do you take the package back and try to get a refund?  Toss it?  Or make do?  Zest.

Yeast type bread

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Yeast. Well, for those of you who’ve followed me or read a few of my other posts here and elsewhere already know about me cooking with yeast.  Well, I’ll not bore you with repetition.  Instead, I’ll regale you with stories of my sister’s efforts at mastering the art of making breads with yeast.  I’ve watched her over the years and she’d become quite the master.

Methinks she’s in the same canoe as I am when it comes to the clamoring that certain members of our family makes whenever they get a hankering for cinnamon rolls, or even her mighty tasty biscuits.  Both of these dishes come out of the oven and are devoured before they even have a chance to cool off.  Mmmm.  We like the accolades.  We just don’t want to stand there doing all that hard work.  At least, I don’t have to stand there and pound on that bread, lift it up, flip over here and there, find another good spot to punch, lift up and repeat.  I only have to make sure my dough is just sticky enough to work the flour in when I form the bread into it’s distinctive shape and fry it.  Cept, I don’t use as much oil, just enough to get the pan hot enough for the bread to rise as it cooks.

Whereas she has to let it rise, then go through that lifting, punching, lift, sprinkle flour, and punch it down dance, not once but twice.  Sometimes, if she really feels like it’s worth it, she’ll let it rise a third time before forming those rolls, cutting it into that yummy shape and letting them rise one more time before setting them into that hot oven.

Methinks she’s just like me when it comes to the amount.  Neither one of us feels right when we make just enough for who ever’s at the house at the time we are finally making that bread.  We use roughly five to ten pounds of flour.  Yep, that’s right.  We go by the pound when making bread.  None of this dainty cup by cup stuff for us.  It has to be that way if we want enough to have with our dinner, or lunch or whatever.

Yes, she’s tried to get me into the groove of making yeast bread.  However, I think I’d be the dainty one using just a few cups in one of those smallish bowls.  Sort of like when we make baking powder biscuits, which by the way, my son makes about as often as me and sister make our bread.  Once in a blue moon.  Oh, man, now I’m getting hungry just thinking about that bread and biscuits.  Not hungry enough to go and make some though.

The Letter X

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X.  The letter X is a mighty difficult letter to find a word that starts with it.  Don’t think we even have that letter x or it’s sound in Anishinabe.  And no, I’m not going to take the time to research it.  And really when one thinks about it, most of the words that do start with that letter sound like other letter sounds, like xylophone or…or…hiac.  Stumped me thoroughly right there.

Asked my youngest son if he could think of a word that starts with that letter.  XBox.  I thought of x’d out.  Hmm.  Quite the quandary for us.  Didn’t ask the Eldest, who has access to plenty of the weirdling words in his jaunts through cyberspace.  He’d probably come up with something that’d be hard for me to even think about, much less write about.  I don’t follow the role playing games, the video games or even much of the science fiction type stuff anymore.  Much of it’s just too esoteric for me now.  Aack.  It’s just that I might be just a tad bit lazy.  Or is it that I might just find myself dragged into one of those black holes that one can get dragged into so very easily when flitting here and there about the above mentioned cyberspace.  I do have a tendency to get lost and take days, even weeks, to find my way back to this reality.

So.  Cooking, nah.  Nothing in that category either.  Is there even anything the particular category titled Cooking/Food that I could even contemplate?  Methinks, that siren call of the ‘Net is beginning to make itself heard above the music I’ve set up so that I can write to my heart’s content.  This blasted laptop and that dagnabbed mouse thingy right in the middle of the top, that’s sitting right where I sometimes rest my hand whilst trying to think of the next word to type.  It also controls the mouse tail that I sometimes have to send the mouse itself on a mad dash around the mouse pad so that that tail can be spotted somewhere on the screen and I can bring it back into line.

Sometimes, I can’t even find the spot where those few letters that I typed have ended up.  And upon occasion, I’ve even caused my computer to save, delete or otherwise do something that I specially didn’t want it doing at the particular time my hand, thumb or wrist decided that it needed a rest.  Sometimes, I think the laptop mouse pad itself leaps right up to my dangling thumb as I type.

Ahh, methinks that those gremlins have been patient long enough and have decided that my life needs to become a bit more interesting as my year of mourning comes to a close.  We’ll see what happens in the next few days.  I’m thinking that I’ve come up with a plan to fool those gremlins.  Think I’ll just contemplate the letter x for a few more days.

Watermelon

Watermelon.  Yes, I don’t care for watermelon.  Not sure why.  Everyone else likes it.  Least enough to eat it when it’s served.  I pass 99.8% of the time.  Once every third blue moon, I’ll eat it.  When my sons and I lived by ourselves, they didn’t get much in the way of such things as watermelon.  Might be that’s why we ended up living with Mom.  Least they got more of a variety of foods to eat.

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Don’t get me wrong, I did cook.  Just not things I didn’t much care for.  Course most of this time was when I was experimenting with cooking.  Even though I had to cook when I was young and foolish, I didn’t really learn how to cook much of anything.  Well, for one thing, since we bought food in bulk, we ended up cooking the same meals, day in, day out, week after week.  And it got boring.

Why?  Hmm, thinking it was mostly cause we rarely had all the ingredients necessary for most of the recipes.  Oh, there were spices that Mom used and I learned to put in the food.  But…yeah, yeah, yeah, here comes the but.  A word I am trying very hard to get out of my vocabulary, due in great part to one of my counselors telling us that “But” was just an excuse.  Along with “can’t,” there isn’t much that can be done, thought or said without some serious editing. Anyway, back to the spices and watermelon.

Watermelon was something we only bought like twice a year, in the summer, like in July or August.  Sort of like the pumpkins that were only purchased like once a year.  Same with the spices.  And it wasn’t very cost-effective to buy a whole can of spice just for one time of experimenting.  Cause then it would just go to waste.  Course that took many, many moons for that to sink into my head.

And watermelon comes in different sizes so I wouldn’t really need to buy the whole big watermelon.  Heck, it’s even sold by the slice nowadays.  And it’s on my list for the garden.  So, it shouldn’t really…Oh, oh.  Another word I was advised to watch out for as shouldn’t implies perfection.  And wouldn’t.  Man, oh man, I’ve not been so conscious of all the words I have been trying to remove from my vocabulary.  Ahh, well, there’s another goal, habit? Something I can use when revising.  Added to the list of things I’d much rather not be doing, eating or saying, well.  I lead a pretty active life, since I am busy trying to not do something.  And the other part, I’ve been off looking at the greener grass over to my next state over neighbor’s yard.  Yep, that’s what can happen in these days of the ‘Net.

Ahh, well, methinks I’ll just plant a watermelon seed or two and see if I can learn to like watermelon as much as my family does.

Venison

Woke up to pounding on the door.  Heard Mom and Auntie talking.  Then something being dragged down the stairs.  Someone was hollering for a knife.  Flew out of bed to check over the railing.  There were about four or five people at the bottom bent over something on the floor.  Huge flood of relief when I was finally able to see that it was only a deer.

“Hurry up and bring a knife.”

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I ran to get one and handed it to my cousin.  Then the boys went out and I had to go down and help dress out the deer.  I wasn’t too excited.  Good thing I hadn’t changed into pajamas, now that I think about it.  It was bout midnight or so when they’d come in.  Shining season on the rez.  It took us about an hour to get it all done, packaged and put away.  Now at least we had enough meat for a while.  One deer lasted for most of the winter, providing we got other meats.

The first thing we did after that was cook up a frying pan full with gravy and potatoes.  Then we ate and went back to bed.  Wasn’t often that we’d be woken up like that.  Most times, we’d know when someone was out hunting for us and we’d be ready.  So that night was a real happy surprise for Mom and Auntie.  Specially since it’d been a while since anyone had some.  It was rare when there wasn’t anything like venison, duck or fish in the freezer.

We had manomin, wild rice, to go with.  Or potatoes.  Some kind of vegetable.  Onions, another necessity.  That night’s meal was delicious, even if I was a bit crabby bout being woken up.   Sometimes it was hard to get my sons back to sleep when they were woken up.  That night they went right back to sleep.  Sometimes, I wonder what some of my friends would think if they came to the house whilst we were busy doing something like this.  I know most of them get their food at the grocery store.

I think the main reason I was crabby is pulling the hide off the deer.  It takes such a long time cause 1. My hands aren’t up to par for grabbing hold of things and 2. I don’t have much strength which means I have to find another means of pulling and I end up in the way.  Sometimes people forget that my hands and arms are scarred, which is how I want it.  And I don’t like reminding them cause then it sounds like I’m whining.  I’m not.  I have to settle for doing what I can and it’s not easy to skin a deer when one is in a hurry to get back to sleep.

*No, I am not going to defend my way of life from those who think animals must be “saved.”  We respect the animal’s gift which is the reason a meal is cooked right away, showing thanks.

Unleavened Bread#

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Unleavened bread.  Yep, I searched high and low for a food that began with today’s letter.  I searched my memory for how we used to make bread in the old, old days.  Don’t have an idea.  I do remember Auntie Vera making a flatbread of some sort.  Ahh, now I remember.  Mom tried to show me how to make it.  However, at the time, I was struggling to perfect my fry bread making skills, amongst other things.

When I was first learning how to cook, I didn’t even know there was such as thing as unleavened bread.  Even when I was taking that Home Ec class, I’m sorry to say that the light bulb stayed dark.  Fact, I must have been in a whole completely different room the day that unleavened bread was covered.  Didn’t find my way back until I struggled to make bread one day and found that there wasn’t even a dust mote of baking powder in the house.  Not even frantic forays to several houses in the vicinity turned up any baking powder, or even bread already cooked.  Now what?  We ate our soup without any bread that day.

So, I always make sure I have at least ten pounds of flour, one can of baking powder and some kind of lard, oil or grease with which to make fry bread when we forget to stock up on bread.  Even that doesn’t guarantee that I’ll make fry bread every day though.  Not sure why I don’t like making it every day.  Could be the fact that I have to stand for an hour cooking it.  Cause I try to make enough to last for the day.

Mom always tried to put it in a plastic bag so keep it soft.  I wondered why, then figured out it was cause I didn’t always make it big and fluffy.  I like crunchy bread.  Found out that not everyone shares my passion for the crunch.  Ahh well, guess I’ll have to rethink my position on it.  Will have to see if I can find any recipes Mom might have written down.  Still haven’t gone through every single bit of the papers she stashed in various places around the house.

When I find that recipe, or figure it out, I’ll try to make it a couple times.  Not going to spend a whole lot of time trying to cook it though.  Have much other things I’d rather be doing, most of which don’t have a bit in common with, wait, think it does have a lot in common with learning how to cook.  Must have direction of some sort, must practice, must come up with a final dish that one is satisfied with.  Traveling down some paths that are dead ends means one has to turn around and figure something else out.  Hmmm.  Unleavened bread doesn’t have as many ingredients as leavened bread.  Basics first, then one can fancy it up how ever one wants.  Must ponder this some more.

Tuna

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Tuna.  Tuna, canned, is another staple which I don’t much care for.  I  think that fish is bout the only thing I’ll eat.  Ahh, one day we were sitting around eating walleye.  Not sure why I eat the fish the way I do.  May have gotten that from my dad.  I first pick off all the breading the fish is cooked in, then proceed to cut it apart and take out all the bones.  Which is what I proceeded to do.  I was so involved in eating that fish that I zoned out.

I felt someone watching me, so I looked up, glanced around and people were watching me eat.  Jenny motioned me to pick up the fish, put it in my mouth and eat.  I made a face and left the rest of my fish.  I was finished eating the portion I wanted anyway.  I just smiled and shook my head.  Well, one can’t eat tuna that way.  It’s cooked right into our meals.

My sister and my mom could eat it right out of the can.  Same thing with salmon, cept for sister, who doesn’t really care for salmon out of a can.  She does make a mean salmon loaf though.  And sardines.  I’d buy Mom a couple cans of sardines and crackers every time I went to town.  Not sure why I don’t care for sardines, either.  Thinking I might be a closet vegan?  Nah.  Think it’s just that I prefer the plant type food and I’ll eat protein when my body tells me to eat meat.

Now, tuna is cooked with noodles mostly, when we want a hot meal, with macaroni when we want the salad.  My son makes the best tuna salad and he makes lots of it.  We make a bit pot of something in the morning and munch on it the rest of the day.  Less, of course, if family members show up.  “When was this cooked?” if John comes home and sees food on the stove or the counter.  “Today” and he’ll eat.  Else he continues to the cupboards to see what is there to make a sandwich.

Ahhh, I shouldn’t have written that, cause now the whole world knows I don’t always do dishes right away.  I leave food out on the counter and I’m not perfect.  Well, what can one do when one is in the throes of the next scene complication that needs to be worked out?  They don’t even ask about food any more during the months of April, July and November.  Made progress in the past dozen or so years.  I’m not expected to cook or do much of anything during these months.  So, guess it’s back to canned tuna, macaroni and salad dressing.  And mustn’t forget the onions.

Reminds me.  I’ll have to stock up on the essentials cause April is just around the corner.  I’ve worked on the outlines for the books I want finished by June.  As soon as this challenge is drafted, along with a few more posts for my other blogs, I’ll get back to working on them.