Every year for the past five years, I've been getting ready for the trick or treaters and writing at midnight, 01 November, [0000] which is what I did tonight. I've been getting my sort of outline ready. Spent the last couple days looking over the NaNo site. Some changes have taken place.
A n n d, on my third favorite place, I've been frantically trying to get a 50% 4 in 1 stove for the you know what. and doing the three or so Catering Orders with it's attendant goals. You know the ones that everyone [at least the ones I see in "the forums,"] likes to complain about because there is so much to do in one 7-10 day period.
Some of us have even managed to convert all our stoves to the handy-dandy 50% ones. Not the nifty little 4-in-1. Oh no, that one you have to trick or treat and that involves going to your buddies walls. Now the fine thing would be a light or something like the kiddies have. Then you'd know if someone had a treat. I think it might have been something to do with the trick or two that happened to get posted. Those aren't as noticible. Drats. NaNo has affected me already and I only wrote 50 words.
I manage to stay awake until midnight, write my paragraph and go to sleep. This year, I am also trying to do a little more than I usually do. I have the cover for the book set. Now to get the thing uploaded while at the same time not worrying about editing. Not sure how that is going to work out. Might not make 50,000 words.
I also spent a lot of time sleeping since I got back from "the trip." I did get a chance to look over the pictures and will be setting up a photo album. I will also be working on my neighbor's camera and Ipad whenever the camera gets here. She mailed it to herself. Then I will have a few more of the prettier, ...not prettier, more stunning pictures of Bryce Canyon. Antelope Canyon was breathtaking also.
The Grand Canyon which was the highlight of the trip was not as awe inspiring because I was so high up. We didn't go down into the canyon. The rim where I walked to take pictures didn't have a railing. Of course, I walked along looking at the little 3x4 window of the camera. I happened to really look at the ground, saw the round stones, saw how close the edge was and decided it was not the place to be tripping. I usually manage to walk into something during the day. [Father used to yell at me "Get your nose out of that book. You're supposed to be cooking." Sigh, thump, ouch for grabbing the hot handle of the griddle.] It was along that order, so I moved a couple feet away and didn't get many good shots. Huuuuah.
Well, what do you know? I wrote more in this blog than I did for the official start of Nano.
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
01 November 2011
28 October 2011
From Father
to #1 daughter
I remember when you were in elementary school yet and was attempting to form a new band. Well, here is something for thought.
The employees at the tire factory have formed their own orchestra and they're calling themselves the "Rubber Band".
I remember when you were in elementary school yet and was attempting to form a new band. Well, here is something for thought.
The employees at the tire factory have formed their own orchestra and they're calling themselves the "Rubber Band".
Father
Social Interactions
My posting of the flight experience is an example of what I deal with on an almost daily basis. Most of those types of experiences are not as blatant or as humiliating. Mostly, my mother and I only go to places where we know we are welcome, mostly Indian owned and operated casinos and businesses who welcome us.
Most of the social interactions I experience are on the level of waiting 5-10 minutes before being served, being followed by store personnel from the moment I enter a store to outright refusal to serve me accomplished by suddenly having to go on break. When I accompany my mother, it gets slightly worse if she is in a wheelchair. I've had similar experiences quite a few times with people actually shouting at my mother like she can't hear while towering over her in her chair, lecturing me like I'm a simpleton with no concept of how to take care of her, yelling at me that they hate it when someone doesn't do what they're supposed to meaning that they're right and I am wrong.
Now, my father has called me a radical since I was a teenager because I objected to this sort of treatment. He was born before the depression, my mom was born during the depression and I was born in the tail end of the baby boom. We grew up during turbulent decades: depression years, World War II years and Viet Nam War years. My father was sent to an Indian boarding school. My mother wasn't and she objected fiercely to any suggestion that her children be sent. Those growing up years determine how we each respond to discrimination, bigotry and hatred. Even when it's displayed by our own people. We're a loving, generous, and caring family who oftentimes go out of our way to help others.
We firmly believe in treating others as we'd like to be treated. We try very hard not to "treat others as we are being treated" when the treatment being received is negative in some manner. This is sometimes viewed as being a pushover by others. We do have limits on our patience. The difference in our responses shows at those times.
I have learned to walk away when my temper reaches the boiling point. I'd rather do that than deal with the consequences after the fact that I responded with violence or hurtful words. I'd be the one facing the judge in court even if I was defending myself. Sometimes, I do have to speak out. When I am tired and need time alone to recharge, I revert to my childhood mode of thinking where a simple gesture was often enough to express what takes many sentences in English.
With my own people, I must create pictures, images in a manner that corresponds to our native tongue. Often, there are no English words to help with that translation. Especially when vocabularies do not match. That same process causes complications when talking to others who don't have the same sorts of experiences. Twice I got out of my chair in order to be on the same level as the attendants. Attitudes quickly changed once I was standing. I was very disgusted upon learning the person who caused my problem bawled someone out when he was inconvenienced by a short delay.
You may want to reread Home at Last & II. I did get a comment from someone who made me smile about the whole thing. Miigwetch for that. When I can laugh about it, I'll have figured out what I needed to know.
Most of the social interactions I experience are on the level of waiting 5-10 minutes before being served, being followed by store personnel from the moment I enter a store to outright refusal to serve me accomplished by suddenly having to go on break. When I accompany my mother, it gets slightly worse if she is in a wheelchair. I've had similar experiences quite a few times with people actually shouting at my mother like she can't hear while towering over her in her chair, lecturing me like I'm a simpleton with no concept of how to take care of her, yelling at me that they hate it when someone doesn't do what they're supposed to meaning that they're right and I am wrong.
Now, my father has called me a radical since I was a teenager because I objected to this sort of treatment. He was born before the depression, my mom was born during the depression and I was born in the tail end of the baby boom. We grew up during turbulent decades: depression years, World War II years and Viet Nam War years. My father was sent to an Indian boarding school. My mother wasn't and she objected fiercely to any suggestion that her children be sent. Those growing up years determine how we each respond to discrimination, bigotry and hatred. Even when it's displayed by our own people. We're a loving, generous, and caring family who oftentimes go out of our way to help others.
We firmly believe in treating others as we'd like to be treated. We try very hard not to "treat others as we are being treated" when the treatment being received is negative in some manner. This is sometimes viewed as being a pushover by others. We do have limits on our patience. The difference in our responses shows at those times.
I have learned to walk away when my temper reaches the boiling point. I'd rather do that than deal with the consequences after the fact that I responded with violence or hurtful words. I'd be the one facing the judge in court even if I was defending myself. Sometimes, I do have to speak out. When I am tired and need time alone to recharge, I revert to my childhood mode of thinking where a simple gesture was often enough to express what takes many sentences in English.
With my own people, I must create pictures, images in a manner that corresponds to our native tongue. Often, there are no English words to help with that translation. Especially when vocabularies do not match. That same process causes complications when talking to others who don't have the same sorts of experiences. Twice I got out of my chair in order to be on the same level as the attendants. Attitudes quickly changed once I was standing. I was very disgusted upon learning the person who caused my problem bawled someone out when he was inconvenienced by a short delay.
You may want to reread Home at Last & II. I did get a comment from someone who made me smile about the whole thing. Miigwetch for that. When I can laugh about it, I'll have figured out what I needed to know.
27 October 2011
Home At Last! Part II
Our departure for the airport was imminent. I had no more time to inspect the machinations of the knight. My aunt took a wrong turn. I caught up to them, explained we were on a different level now. During the course of this conversation, another lady from our company joined us. She had been wandering and by now was so turned around she happily followed us back to our original starting point.
Upon our arrival at the airport, we had a bit of time going through security. I forgot about leaving out the laptop so my belongings made one more pass. My mother had to toss a five bladed grooming item that she'd had ever since I could remember. Our Tour Assistant had waited for us and he took over the pushing of the chair. When we arrived at the tram, he received a phone call requesting his assistance. After debarking, I told him to just go, we'd find our way. He pointed out where the elevator was and left.
We arrived at the departure gate and I plugged in the machine. Again, I thought it was working because she was getting air. So we waited the two hours for the plane to leave. No one wanted to relax too much or we'd fall asleep. Had to keep moving. The time arrived for boarding the plane. Not too bad. My mom and I arrived at the assigned seat. The flight attendant settled her in her seat and made sure the tank was where it was supposed to be. About an hour into the flight, the battery needed changing.
This plane was not as roomy as the other one. I couldn't lift the tank to change the battery. I thought it was cause the lady in front of us had put her chair back. No, it was because they had more seats in the plane with very little legroom.
After wrestling the tank to where I could reach the battery, I changed to the fully charged battery. Now is when I discovered that imps had joined the gremlins. Fifteen minutes later, the low battery alarm went off. We had no more batteries and an hour and half of flight time left. I discovered the skies were not so friendly as on our flight out.
After discussion with the Tour Assistant who was across the aisle from us, she left to find out what could be done. By now, my mom was having problems. When the flight attendant arrived, there was a bit of an argument. There are a number of items in my report to her superiors which I won't get into here. Suffice it to say that my temper was on a very short leash. Also, the principle of "treat others as you'd like to be treated" was in operation. The ruder she got, the less I wanted to inform her of the situation. They got one of their tanks for my mother.
Now began the worst flight experience I've ever had. Communications broke down. I received conflicting orders from the flight attendants [FA]. The one who strapped the tank in the seat between my mother and I was not the lead attendant. The FA checked on my mother a few times and I relaxed as landing neared. The FA came and took down my mother's name and address for her "Cabin Discrepancy Report" for the use of the tank. She was explaining things to me and when I told her that I understood rules and regs, she seemed to think I was still a child. Not good.
1. I've worked in a tightly regulated industry. I've done background checks. I've worked in Internal Compliance which has more regulations than she'd ever deal with. I've worked with law enforcement. I've had customer service training which I promptly forgot being on the receiving end of one representative's personification of all the wrong things to do when dealing with unruly customers which I was trying very hard not to be.
2. I've had some medical training. I'm familiar with my mother's medical needs. I do have some knowledge of how Oxygen Concentrators work having been around them for seven years, from the "dinosaurs" to the sleeker models out now. The tank they handed my mother was a smaller version of the 14 we usually use whenever my mother travels in a car. Huuuhhh.
Landing was the pits. The lead came back, very rudely unstrapped the tank and put it under the seat. No sooner had she accomplished this, when the FA for our section came and wanted me to hand it to her. At this time, I felt it best if I left the area. Unfortunately, the middle of a plane in the process of landing is not the best place to find a spot in which to calm down so situations can be dealt with in a calmer manner. When I realized this, I asked for T*** whom I kept calling T*** because it got stuck in my head from one of the other members of our company who thought that was her name. I really needed to get off that plane. We made it through the landing and out of the airport.
Upon our arrival at the motel, I really needed a cigarette, a cup of coffee and a few minutes to myself. I got my mother settled. As long as her machine is hooked into an AC outlet, the battery will charge. That worked. I checked out all the batteries we had and they were all low, out. There was a desktop charger which gave us the opportunity to charge two batteries at once. To fully charge the four batteries, we needed at the least, a 12 hour stopover, which we weren't going to get. So I made sure of at least two that should last for the trip to Fortune Bay whereupon I'd be able to use the DC. But of course, I hadn't planned on the gremlins activities. I thought only the imps had any energy for mischief. Turns out the gremlins had fully rested.
Upon our departure for the 5 hour trip to the home res, three of the Assistants asked if we had fully charged batteries. I assured them we had enough. Not. Our trip was delayed when we were about to depart. We had to wait for half an hour for our bag lunch to arrive. During this delay, I called home {yay, no roaming charges, didn't have to text} to let them know we'd be late. Now, I found out we didn't have a ride home. After setting plans for obtaining a ride were set in motion, I had another cigarette.
We finally left and were 10 minutes out when it was discovered one of our company had been left behind. We waited another half hour or so for the Tour Guides to bring the lost one to meet us. At this point, the low battery alarm went off. She had only been using it for 45 minutes. It's a 3 hour battery at the setting we had it on-pulse only. The driver set her up on the DC hookup and so we were set for the trip to Fortune Bay. Yay, the extra battery should get her home. In order to make up lost time, we missed one stopover.
Upon our arrival in Cloquet, I discovered that my mother's errant knight had some very harsh words for the lost one. Words which proved he was Not A Paladin due to the nature of the mostly FoUr Letter Words he used and the treatment he meted out to an elder. When we arrived, the lost one didn't talk to anyone at this stopover. The Duluthians left the bus at this point; we didn't make the planned stopover in Independence and were able to make up time arriving at Fortune Bay only one hour later than planned.
Upon our arrival at the airport, we had a bit of time going through security. I forgot about leaving out the laptop so my belongings made one more pass. My mother had to toss a five bladed grooming item that she'd had ever since I could remember. Our Tour Assistant had waited for us and he took over the pushing of the chair. When we arrived at the tram, he received a phone call requesting his assistance. After debarking, I told him to just go, we'd find our way. He pointed out where the elevator was and left.
We arrived at the departure gate and I plugged in the machine. Again, I thought it was working because she was getting air. So we waited the two hours for the plane to leave. No one wanted to relax too much or we'd fall asleep. Had to keep moving. The time arrived for boarding the plane. Not too bad. My mom and I arrived at the assigned seat. The flight attendant settled her in her seat and made sure the tank was where it was supposed to be. About an hour into the flight, the battery needed changing.
This plane was not as roomy as the other one. I couldn't lift the tank to change the battery. I thought it was cause the lady in front of us had put her chair back. No, it was because they had more seats in the plane with very little legroom.
After wrestling the tank to where I could reach the battery, I changed to the fully charged battery. Now is when I discovered that imps had joined the gremlins. Fifteen minutes later, the low battery alarm went off. We had no more batteries and an hour and half of flight time left. I discovered the skies were not so friendly as on our flight out.
After discussion with the Tour Assistant who was across the aisle from us, she left to find out what could be done. By now, my mom was having problems. When the flight attendant arrived, there was a bit of an argument. There are a number of items in my report to her superiors which I won't get into here. Suffice it to say that my temper was on a very short leash. Also, the principle of "treat others as you'd like to be treated" was in operation. The ruder she got, the less I wanted to inform her of the situation. They got one of their tanks for my mother.
Now began the worst flight experience I've ever had. Communications broke down. I received conflicting orders from the flight attendants [FA]. The one who strapped the tank in the seat between my mother and I was not the lead attendant. The FA checked on my mother a few times and I relaxed as landing neared. The FA came and took down my mother's name and address for her "Cabin Discrepancy Report" for the use of the tank. She was explaining things to me and when I told her that I understood rules and regs, she seemed to think I was still a child. Not good.
1. I've worked in a tightly regulated industry. I've done background checks. I've worked in Internal Compliance which has more regulations than she'd ever deal with. I've worked with law enforcement. I've had customer service training which I promptly forgot being on the receiving end of one representative's personification of all the wrong things to do when dealing with unruly customers which I was trying very hard not to be.
2. I've had some medical training. I'm familiar with my mother's medical needs. I do have some knowledge of how Oxygen Concentrators work having been around them for seven years, from the "dinosaurs" to the sleeker models out now. The tank they handed my mother was a smaller version of the 14 we usually use whenever my mother travels in a car. Huuuhhh.
Landing was the pits. The lead came back, very rudely unstrapped the tank and put it under the seat. No sooner had she accomplished this, when the FA for our section came and wanted me to hand it to her. At this time, I felt it best if I left the area. Unfortunately, the middle of a plane in the process of landing is not the best place to find a spot in which to calm down so situations can be dealt with in a calmer manner. When I realized this, I asked for T*** whom I kept calling T*** because it got stuck in my head from one of the other members of our company who thought that was her name. I really needed to get off that plane. We made it through the landing and out of the airport.
Upon our arrival at the motel, I really needed a cigarette, a cup of coffee and a few minutes to myself. I got my mother settled. As long as her machine is hooked into an AC outlet, the battery will charge. That worked. I checked out all the batteries we had and they were all low, out. There was a desktop charger which gave us the opportunity to charge two batteries at once. To fully charge the four batteries, we needed at the least, a 12 hour stopover, which we weren't going to get. So I made sure of at least two that should last for the trip to Fortune Bay whereupon I'd be able to use the DC. But of course, I hadn't planned on the gremlins activities. I thought only the imps had any energy for mischief. Turns out the gremlins had fully rested.
Upon our departure for the 5 hour trip to the home res, three of the Assistants asked if we had fully charged batteries. I assured them we had enough. Not. Our trip was delayed when we were about to depart. We had to wait for half an hour for our bag lunch to arrive. During this delay, I called home {yay, no roaming charges, didn't have to text} to let them know we'd be late. Now, I found out we didn't have a ride home. After setting plans for obtaining a ride were set in motion, I had another cigarette.
We finally left and were 10 minutes out when it was discovered one of our company had been left behind. We waited another half hour or so for the Tour Guides to bring the lost one to meet us. At this point, the low battery alarm went off. She had only been using it for 45 minutes. It's a 3 hour battery at the setting we had it on-pulse only. The driver set her up on the DC hookup and so we were set for the trip to Fortune Bay. Yay, the extra battery should get her home. In order to make up lost time, we missed one stopover.
Upon our arrival in Cloquet, I discovered that my mother's errant knight had some very harsh words for the lost one. Words which proved he was Not A Paladin due to the nature of the mostly FoUr Letter Words he used and the treatment he meted out to an elder. When we arrived, the lost one didn't talk to anyone at this stopover. The Duluthians left the bus at this point; we didn't make the planned stopover in Independence and were able to make up time arriving at Fortune Bay only one hour later than planned.
I met the lost one and asked if ** had said anything to him. "Yeah. Did you hear what he said?" "I didn't hear it but I heard about it. Don't worry about what he said. He's a bigger troublemaker than you ever were." I then proceeded to find my mother and brother who met us, thinking that that assurance to the lost one was enough. Not. This knight wasn't issued shining armor. A one hour delay for oversleeping vs. damage to a POC with it's attendant complications is the standard I'd use for whether or not something merited Harsh Words and/or Harsh Treatment.
We had to wait for my nephew to arrive. After a half hour stroll through the casino to stretch my muscles for the hour ride home, I discovered the full extent of the damage to the machine at our stop at the grocery store. I switched out the batteries and turned on the machine. Lo and behold, the charge on a fully charged battery had drained. Luckily, we could use the DC hookup. We arrived at home and my mother happily got on her very own trusty machine.
I surveyed the machine more fully. I think it's mostly the battery hookup that's damaged in some inexplicable manner. It most certainly needs a qualified Service Technician's attention. I don't know if trip insurance will cover human error. A simple push of one button, slide the battery out, slide the new one in til it clicks is all that is needed. Never did I have to take apart the machine to accomplish this.
All in all, I learned a valuable lesson to use for the trip to England's environs. The 31 hour ordeal happily was at the end of our trip. The Tour Guide and Bus Driver for the "Yellow Submarine" are much appreciated. Their assistance, knowledge and great customer service surely made our Trip Planner's/Assistant's job easier. I know my experience was greatly enhanced by their care and respect for my mother.
Here is a link for the "official" description of our trip. You'll need to read from the bottom up. Helen is the Bois Forte News editor/reporter.
We had to wait for my nephew to arrive. After a half hour stroll through the casino to stretch my muscles for the hour ride home, I discovered the full extent of the damage to the machine at our stop at the grocery store. I switched out the batteries and turned on the machine. Lo and behold, the charge on a fully charged battery had drained. Luckily, we could use the DC hookup. We arrived at home and my mother happily got on her very own trusty machine.
I surveyed the machine more fully. I think it's mostly the battery hookup that's damaged in some inexplicable manner. It most certainly needs a qualified Service Technician's attention. I don't know if trip insurance will cover human error. A simple push of one button, slide the battery out, slide the new one in til it clicks is all that is needed. Never did I have to take apart the machine to accomplish this.
All in all, I learned a valuable lesson to use for the trip to England's environs. The 31 hour ordeal happily was at the end of our trip. The Tour Guide and Bus Driver for the "Yellow Submarine" are much appreciated. Their assistance, knowledge and great customer service surely made our Trip Planner's/Assistant's job easier. I know my experience was greatly enhanced by their care and respect for my mother.
Here is a link for the "official" description of our trip. You'll need to read from the bottom up. Helen is the Bois Forte News editor/reporter.
26 October 2011
Home at last!
After what felt like hours on the last leg of the journey home, I discovered that we might not have a ride home. Apparently, the gremlins are mad about having their vacation cut short. On our last day of the tour in Las Vegas, they struck.
I happened to be away from my mother when the battery in her tank needed changing. The knight on the charger who came to their rescue was not the white knight of fairy tale fame. From the minute his hands touched the POC, things went wrong. One: This knight on the charger should have ridden to their rescue by admitting he didn't know how to change the battery and instead ride three steps up into the food court and inform me that I was needed. Two: When he spotted me sitting in the food court, he could have informed me then that the aforementioned machine needed changing.
When the lady who requested my attendance at a short meal had finished eating, we went back to where we had left my mother and my aunt. Alas, no one was there. We searched high and low [not really, we ourselves didn't want to get lost] and then decided to sit in one spot. Upon discovering that we had been joined by sufficient of our company that I felt comfortable leaving the lady, I made a circle looking for my mom and my aunt.
I came upon them at last where they were happily playing a machine. I checked my mom's machine and noticed the handle was not quite right. Aiiiiyeee. A first inkling began worming its' way through my almost overloaded brain. I tried to fix it or at least see what was wrong. Then, we visited the powder room whereupon I discovered the dastardly deed that was to cause me much heartache, sorrow, gloom, doom and a bit of the fiery temper I inherited from a certain parent who shall remain nameless was ignited on the fateful journey through the not so friendly skies.
"Millie" a highly excited voice came to me from the room. I searched in two rooms for the voice. "Millie, come here. Your mom's tank. You have to fix your mom's tank." I let out an exasperated sigh which quickly became a grimace and a short flash of the famous temper I inherited.
My mom's tank was in pieces. The look on my face said it all. I quickly rushed to her to get the tank off my mother who was trying to lift it while my aunt was trying to grab the handle which wasn't working. I reached down and grabbed both the tank and cart off my mother. "**** tried to change the battery. He did something." After I had gotten the tank mostly upright and air flowing through the tubing, I was biting my lip. That name was all I needed to know. Unfortunately, the gremlins had been joined by imps. I wasn't to find this out til much later. It turned out I only thought I had everything straightened out. {To be continued on the morrow. I am in dire need of a little rest and refreshment at this moment.}
I happened to be away from my mother when the battery in her tank needed changing. The knight on the charger who came to their rescue was not the white knight of fairy tale fame. From the minute his hands touched the POC, things went wrong. One: This knight on the charger should have ridden to their rescue by admitting he didn't know how to change the battery and instead ride three steps up into the food court and inform me that I was needed. Two: When he spotted me sitting in the food court, he could have informed me then that the aforementioned machine needed changing.
When the lady who requested my attendance at a short meal had finished eating, we went back to where we had left my mother and my aunt. Alas, no one was there. We searched high and low [not really, we ourselves didn't want to get lost] and then decided to sit in one spot. Upon discovering that we had been joined by sufficient of our company that I felt comfortable leaving the lady, I made a circle looking for my mom and my aunt.
I came upon them at last where they were happily playing a machine. I checked my mom's machine and noticed the handle was not quite right. Aiiiiyeee. A first inkling began worming its' way through my almost overloaded brain. I tried to fix it or at least see what was wrong. Then, we visited the powder room whereupon I discovered the dastardly deed that was to cause me much heartache, sorrow, gloom, doom and a bit of the fiery temper I inherited from a certain parent who shall remain nameless was ignited on the fateful journey through the not so friendly skies.
"Millie" a highly excited voice came to me from the room. I searched in two rooms for the voice. "Millie, come here. Your mom's tank. You have to fix your mom's tank." I let out an exasperated sigh which quickly became a grimace and a short flash of the famous temper I inherited.
My mom's tank was in pieces. The look on my face said it all. I quickly rushed to her to get the tank off my mother who was trying to lift it while my aunt was trying to grab the handle which wasn't working. I reached down and grabbed both the tank and cart off my mother. "**** tried to change the battery. He did something." After I had gotten the tank mostly upright and air flowing through the tubing, I was biting my lip. That name was all I needed to know. Unfortunately, the gremlins had been joined by imps. I wasn't to find this out til much later. It turned out I only thought I had everything straightened out. {To be continued on the morrow. I am in dire need of a little rest and refreshment at this moment.}
24 October 2011
All Aboard
We arrived in Flagstaff last evening where we went to Black Bart's for dinner. It was fun to listen to the waiters and waitresses singing. Yesterday was the highlight of the trip: the Grand Canyon.
We stopped at three places where we were able to look out. The date is wrong on the picture. Apparently, a couple of the gremlins decided to vacation with me. The date should have stayed set.
I don't think we were as excited as we were the day we went to Bryce Canyon. I have a lot of pictures that I took and I will be setting up a public album when I get home.
This is some really beautiful country. Our tour guide, Brian, told us to smell the bark of the Ponderosa Pine: vanilla or butterscotch. I smelled butterscotch.
This morning, we were standing outside and saw a "jackalope?" crossing the street. He'd sit and wait for the cars to go by and move a little bit. Just like the two legged jaywalkers I've seen.
I have only an hour to get ready to leave, so more on our trip later, Most likely on Thursday.
If you'd like to do the Pick Your Own Adventure, just click on the link in the picture on the sidebar. That's the start of the Adventure.
23 October 2011
Ahoy, Sea Serpent
Choose Your Own Adventure Blog Hop. Ahoy! Sea Serpent?!
To begin, you can start here.
Or do you stay behind?
Overbalanced by the tanks, you fall to the deck. The ship lurches and you slide aft, crash into the cabin's wall. You're stunned by the impact. The seconds needed to regain your breath changes your terror to anger.
Footsteps pound on the deck as the crew rushes about checking the ship for damage. The First Mate spies you lying alongside the cabin's wall and orders you to your cabin. You struggle to your feet, then giggle as you realize that your fins have glued themselves on. The tanks are nearly weightless. Oh no! Dismay chases the giggles away. You manage to get the tanks off to examine them. The tanks are damaged. You head to the storage lockers to get another set. You struggle to walk with the fins while carrying the tanks. Duh. You drop them and free your hands for the trip below deck.
How in the world can you find out what happened to the love of your life? You pass the galley on your way to the storage lockers. Another rumble. This time you're prepared for the lurching and you grab the galley door. It swings inward unexpectedly, flinging you inside where you crash into the freezer doors. You reach for something to grab when the ship tilts once again.
Your hand catches the edge of the storage unit bringing you to an abrupt halt. Time slows, compressed to microseconds verging on eternity. The galley door opens, and a slim figure reaches for your fins. You kick out and then scramble to your feet. The figure slides toward you as the ship lurches again. When the ship evens out, you are entangled with the figure which turns out to be the galley assistant. He signals you to keep quiet.
He untangles himself, reaches for the sliding door and hands you a tiny box. You recognize it. Your eyes flit to the man's eyes. He then reaches for the galley door and shoves you outside. You stand there trying to decide what to think. He points to your cabin. Taking a deep breath, you nod and quickly make your way there. Once inside, you open the box to find the other half of the ring you exchanged with your beloved. Tears gather as you feel relief at this tangible sign that your love had been on this ship.
The galley assistant opens your door and quickly tosses a piece of paper at you. He crosses himself and shuts the door. The note is from your beloved. The ship you are on is a pirate's ship which captured your beloved's ship, and forced crew members and voyagers on board. But the ransom they asked for never came. The assistant promised to help with an escape plan. You quickly hide the ring and the note. Just in time.
The mate opens the cabin door and motions you topside. The galley assistant quickly gets behind you as you flipper your way after the mate. Now what? Your heart is beating so loud you think everyone can hear it. No, it's not your heartbeat drumming against your ears. There's a strange man sitting on the afterdeck beating a steady rhythm on a set of drums.
Captain Contemptuous is standing by him watching the ocean. The crew are hurriedly repairing damage sustained. You are led to one of the lifeboats which doesn't seem to be seaworthy. The man manages to sit beside you as the other passengers on board slowly fill the life boat. There are only 5 of you on board when the Captain gives the order to abandon ship. You freeze as you recognize the creature rapidly making it's way back to the ship. The mate quickly releases the boat.
Wait! You shriek as you realize you've left the ring behind. The lifeboat hits the water, bouncing all of you around. It is only the quick reflexes of the assistant who keeps you on board. Two of the other passengers have fallen overboard. Numb, you watch the ship slowly being destroyed.
The drumming stops. The strange man slides down the ladder and rushes to the side where he jumps overboard. He swims to the boat you are on and gets aboard. He shoves off and instructs everyone to grab an oar and row. The creature's head surfaces near the ship's afterdeck.
The assistant tells you your beloved escaped from the ship only to be caught by the tail of the creature. Legend says whoever goes with the creature is never seen again. He and his brother are taking the lifeboat to their island.
Do you stay with the boat?
Do you try to follow the creature?
To begin, you can start here.
Or do you stay behind?
Overbalanced by the tanks, you fall to the deck. The ship lurches and you slide aft, crash into the cabin's wall. You're stunned by the impact. The seconds needed to regain your breath changes your terror to anger.
Footsteps pound on the deck as the crew rushes about checking the ship for damage. The First Mate spies you lying alongside the cabin's wall and orders you to your cabin. You struggle to your feet, then giggle as you realize that your fins have glued themselves on. The tanks are nearly weightless. Oh no! Dismay chases the giggles away. You manage to get the tanks off to examine them. The tanks are damaged. You head to the storage lockers to get another set. You struggle to walk with the fins while carrying the tanks. Duh. You drop them and free your hands for the trip below deck.
How in the world can you find out what happened to the love of your life? You pass the galley on your way to the storage lockers. Another rumble. This time you're prepared for the lurching and you grab the galley door. It swings inward unexpectedly, flinging you inside where you crash into the freezer doors. You reach for something to grab when the ship tilts once again.
Your hand catches the edge of the storage unit bringing you to an abrupt halt. Time slows, compressed to microseconds verging on eternity. The galley door opens, and a slim figure reaches for your fins. You kick out and then scramble to your feet. The figure slides toward you as the ship lurches again. When the ship evens out, you are entangled with the figure which turns out to be the galley assistant. He signals you to keep quiet.
He untangles himself, reaches for the sliding door and hands you a tiny box. You recognize it. Your eyes flit to the man's eyes. He then reaches for the galley door and shoves you outside. You stand there trying to decide what to think. He points to your cabin. Taking a deep breath, you nod and quickly make your way there. Once inside, you open the box to find the other half of the ring you exchanged with your beloved. Tears gather as you feel relief at this tangible sign that your love had been on this ship.
The galley assistant opens your door and quickly tosses a piece of paper at you. He crosses himself and shuts the door. The note is from your beloved. The ship you are on is a pirate's ship which captured your beloved's ship, and forced crew members and voyagers on board. But the ransom they asked for never came. The assistant promised to help with an escape plan. You quickly hide the ring and the note. Just in time.
The mate opens the cabin door and motions you topside. The galley assistant quickly gets behind you as you flipper your way after the mate. Now what? Your heart is beating so loud you think everyone can hear it. No, it's not your heartbeat drumming against your ears. There's a strange man sitting on the afterdeck beating a steady rhythm on a set of drums.
Captain Contemptuous is standing by him watching the ocean. The crew are hurriedly repairing damage sustained. You are led to one of the lifeboats which doesn't seem to be seaworthy. The man manages to sit beside you as the other passengers on board slowly fill the life boat. There are only 5 of you on board when the Captain gives the order to abandon ship. You freeze as you recognize the creature rapidly making it's way back to the ship. The mate quickly releases the boat.
Wait! You shriek as you realize you've left the ring behind. The lifeboat hits the water, bouncing all of you around. It is only the quick reflexes of the assistant who keeps you on board. Two of the other passengers have fallen overboard. Numb, you watch the ship slowly being destroyed.
The drumming stops. The strange man slides down the ladder and rushes to the side where he jumps overboard. He swims to the boat you are on and gets aboard. He shoves off and instructs everyone to grab an oar and row. The creature's head surfaces near the ship's afterdeck.
The assistant tells you your beloved escaped from the ship only to be caught by the tail of the creature. Legend says whoever goes with the creature is never seen again. He and his brother are taking the lifeboat to their island.
Do you stay with the boat?
Do you try to follow the creature?
And we're off
Well, the post is a little late. We actually left on Tuesday morning. Flew out of Mpls and arrived in Vegas in the early evening. Went on a tour of the city the next morning. Then to my surprise, I couldn't get on the internet until this evening. Not that it wasn't available. I just didn't have the cash to spare for the fee.
So far, we have been very tired at the end of the day. Our tour guides, bus drivers, travel assistants and hotel staff have been doing their best in making sure we are having fun.
Our days are scheduled right up until evening. I have had very little free time to post. Will be setting up some pictures on Monday or so. I might pick a few to post and comment on right in the blog. Most will be in an online album.
We will be getting up very early tomorrow again, and in the evening, I must get the Pick Your Own Adventure set up to be published Monday morning.
The country we have been touring is very beautiful. We are making our way around the rim of the Grand Canyon. Very tiring also, we aren't used to the altitude.
So far, we have been very tired at the end of the day. Our tour guides, bus drivers, travel assistants and hotel staff have been doing their best in making sure we are having fun.
Our days are scheduled right up until evening. I have had very little free time to post. Will be setting up some pictures on Monday or so. I might pick a few to post and comment on right in the blog. Most will be in an online album.
We will be getting up very early tomorrow again, and in the evening, I must get the Pick Your Own Adventure set up to be published Monday morning.
The country we have been touring is very beautiful. We are making our way around the rim of the Grand Canyon. Very tiring also, we aren't used to the altitude.
15 October 2011
Celebrate
I've been looking at various posts from other bloggers where they have a giveaway to celebrate different achievements: number of followers, a new book, etc. I've been thinking about when I could have my own giveaway and what it should celebrate. These thoughts have been percolating through my "little bird brain" and I've been setting different achievements of my own with which to celebrate to decide which was best.
Then, just a few short minutes ago, inspiration struck. My tribe has giveaways all the time. I've talked about pow-wows, different aspects of cultural life, describing a little of what goes on and maybe even the whys, wherefores and whatnots. The main ones are the seasonal ceremonies-Spring, summer, fall and winter. Why the very next celebration is the Mii-gwetch Manoomin happening this very weekend. [Miigwetch Manoomin=Thanks for the Wild Rice]
I am Anishinabeikwe [Chippewa woman], a jingle dress dancer, a newly arrived Elder [though I still feel like a kid], a student of the old ways, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt. I have learned how to do our traditional artwork, crafts and can do work good enough to sell for whatever I want. I have learned how to cook many traditional dishes using traditional foods. I have done my share of passing on the old ways to the next generation.
The inspiration which struck me on the head is: my own giveaway to celebrate Fall. I will giveaway four items to give thanks for the fall harvest and the knowledge I have learned from others who are passing on their knowledge. I will be gathering these items as I travel about. When I return I will post what the prizes will be and how to go about doing the giveaway. It won't give people much time since I expect to giveaway these items on 31 October 2011 about 4:30 p.m CST. Stay tuned for further details.
Then, just a few short minutes ago, inspiration struck. My tribe has giveaways all the time. I've talked about pow-wows, different aspects of cultural life, describing a little of what goes on and maybe even the whys, wherefores and whatnots. The main ones are the seasonal ceremonies-Spring, summer, fall and winter. Why the very next celebration is the Mii-gwetch Manoomin happening this very weekend. [Miigwetch Manoomin=Thanks for the Wild Rice]
I am Anishinabeikwe [Chippewa woman], a jingle dress dancer, a newly arrived Elder [though I still feel like a kid], a student of the old ways, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt. I have learned how to do our traditional artwork, crafts and can do work good enough to sell for whatever I want. I have learned how to cook many traditional dishes using traditional foods. I have done my share of passing on the old ways to the next generation.
The inspiration which struck me on the head is: my own giveaway to celebrate Fall. I will giveaway four items to give thanks for the fall harvest and the knowledge I have learned from others who are passing on their knowledge. I will be gathering these items as I travel about. When I return I will post what the prizes will be and how to go about doing the giveaway. It won't give people much time since I expect to giveaway these items on 31 October 2011 about 4:30 p.m CST. Stay tuned for further details.
14 October 2011
From Father
Sent to me on Tuesday:
Thoughts to ponder on your elder's trip.
And if love is blind, how can there be love at first sight?
How do you tell when you've run out of invsible ink?
Youth is when you blame all your problems on your parents. Maturity is when you learn that everything is the fault of the younger generation.
Have fun on the trip
Father
Sent to me on Wednesday:
to #1
Show me a man in hot water and I'll show you a man who doesn't have cold feet.
Father
And now, father, I will be checking why the notifications aren't working. You may have to send me a text message. Smoke signals are getting lost in the wind and rain the past couple days. The moccasin telegraph has broken due to the cold outside. Heck, I had to hitchhike to the store because I could only make it halfway there. no. #1
Thoughts to ponder on your elder's trip.
And if love is blind, how can there be love at first sight?
How do you tell when you've run out of invsible ink?
Youth is when you blame all your problems on your parents. Maturity is when you learn that everything is the fault of the younger generation.
Have fun on the trip
Father
Sent to me on Wednesday:
to #1
Show me a man in hot water and I'll show you a man who doesn't have cold feet.
Father
And now, father, I will be checking why the notifications aren't working. You may have to send me a text message. Smoke signals are getting lost in the wind and rain the past couple days. The moccasin telegraph has broken due to the cold outside. Heck, I had to hitchhike to the store because I could only make it halfway there. no. #1
13 October 2011
Of Goals, Objectives and Gremlins
During my perusal of the blogs I follow, mention was made of the annual event, NaNoWriMo, which I've taken part in every year since 2005. Got me to thinking that I have no plan for this year. Rarely had much more than a picture to begin with. I have a few ideas for this year, most of which introduce new characters in my world.
I've spent quite a bit of time developing that world. I have vague plans for a whole bunch of books, most of them stand alone. I thought about trilogies, series, etc. No can do. Unless following one or two people throughout their life is a series. There is so much more I have yet to learn about writing, genres etc.
Since I am a family historian of note within my family, I have a handy, dandy program called Family Treemaker. I've put most of the characters in there, added placeholders for a family which spans 20 generations. Fact I made sure to add: book/s I included them in. There is a section for notes which I have filled out with different items. I have included such things as news articles, photos of places and flora, fauna and sky shots for different characters.
When I think of the years I spent looking for a program to help me keep track of this family's books, I can only shake my head. The program has been sitting on my computer for the same amount of time that I have been doing NaNoWriMo. "Can't see the forest for the trees" or could it be "making a mountain out of a molehill." The only problem I have to deal with so far is whether or not to get another storage device to keep just this info and all my plots and schemes on. Now, I wonder about the makers of that program. Are they shaking their heads at some of the occupations-dreamcatcher or education-Protector?
Man, it's Thursday already. Four days left before I start the trip. My sister has kindly let me borrow her camera seeing's how the gremlins haven't returned my USB cord. I thought I had a button where I could "share it on FB." That button is nowhere to be found. Besides, the camera needs to be recharged. No charger either. I looked online for an extra one. Wouldn't you know it? Everyone in the United States who has bought this particular model also needs an extra charger/USB cord. Nary a one to be found anywhere until I happened to remember I have an ebay account. Yep, there is a couple there.
Makes me think someone had the foresight to buy up all the extra cords and chargers for this model expressly to sell them on ebay. Did those gremlins give that someone a hot tip after their various experiments with that black hole? Suspiciously close to the end of their tournament held a couple months ago.
I've spent quite a bit of time developing that world. I have vague plans for a whole bunch of books, most of them stand alone. I thought about trilogies, series, etc. No can do. Unless following one or two people throughout their life is a series. There is so much more I have yet to learn about writing, genres etc.
Since I am a family historian of note within my family, I have a handy, dandy program called Family Treemaker. I've put most of the characters in there, added placeholders for a family which spans 20 generations. Fact I made sure to add: book/s I included them in. There is a section for notes which I have filled out with different items. I have included such things as news articles, photos of places and flora, fauna and sky shots for different characters.
When I think of the years I spent looking for a program to help me keep track of this family's books, I can only shake my head. The program has been sitting on my computer for the same amount of time that I have been doing NaNoWriMo. "Can't see the forest for the trees" or could it be "making a mountain out of a molehill." The only problem I have to deal with so far is whether or not to get another storage device to keep just this info and all my plots and schemes on. Now, I wonder about the makers of that program. Are they shaking their heads at some of the occupations-dreamcatcher or education-Protector?
Man, it's Thursday already. Four days left before I start the trip. My sister has kindly let me borrow her camera seeing's how the gremlins haven't returned my USB cord. I thought I had a button where I could "share it on FB." That button is nowhere to be found. Besides, the camera needs to be recharged. No charger either. I looked online for an extra one. Wouldn't you know it? Everyone in the United States who has bought this particular model also needs an extra charger/USB cord. Nary a one to be found anywhere until I happened to remember I have an ebay account. Yep, there is a couple there.
Makes me think someone had the foresight to buy up all the extra cords and chargers for this model expressly to sell them on ebay. Did those gremlins give that someone a hot tip after their various experiments with that black hole? Suspiciously close to the end of their tournament held a couple months ago.
09 October 2011
Things happen for a reason
A little more about the activities is in order in the event some of things may help you if you get the chance to travel. I've posted before about my dream of traveling to England, Ireland, Scotland and possibly Wales.
I've always read ever since I learned to read back in first grade. Books were a constant companion. What really impressed me was when one of my teachers read "Charlotte's Web"-E.B. White to the class. I looked forward each day to class time. And in high school, I came across a book about Tzu Hsi. I read another book about Stonehenge. By the time I entered 10th grade, I had made up my mind that I'd like to visit England. Thus, was born a determination to go. Up until about 5 years ago, I'd always felt this was out of my reach.
For some reason, I thought it cost about $20,000 to take a trip. To a rez girl, that's a whole year's wages before taxes and whatnot. When I revived my dream of writing a book, my dream about travel to England was also given more thought. I started researching. When I found out the trip was doable in terms of money, like about two to three thousand, I started thinking about taking my mom with me. My sons had already said they wouldn't go.
Well, then she got double pneumonia and ended up needing oxygen at home. Still, I started saving money and thinking about things we'd need. Special considerations would have to be planned for. The concentrator she used was bulky, heavy and hard to transport. The portables only lasted for a few hours and wouldn't be allowed on the plane anyway. She started to give up on that also.
One of the items listed on the Trip Memo was for those who need oxygen. $400 was needed to rent a Portable Oxygen Container. We'd seen people carrying these at the various casinos. Still thought they'd cost lots and they do. About $3000 for one of those babies.
Mom called the oxygen supply company to find out about the POC. Well, they have one already approved for airline travel, it was already paid for and we got extra batteries. The airline's webpage had a Special Needs page and the last thing we needed was the letter from the doctor for her to be able to use the POC on the plane. When we got that part of the plan in motion, it dawned on me. "We can go to England." Her eyes lit up.
I've always read ever since I learned to read back in first grade. Books were a constant companion. What really impressed me was when one of my teachers read "Charlotte's Web"-E.B. White to the class. I looked forward each day to class time. And in high school, I came across a book about Tzu Hsi. I read another book about Stonehenge. By the time I entered 10th grade, I had made up my mind that I'd like to visit England. Thus, was born a determination to go. Up until about 5 years ago, I'd always felt this was out of my reach.
For some reason, I thought it cost about $20,000 to take a trip. To a rez girl, that's a whole year's wages before taxes and whatnot. When I revived my dream of writing a book, my dream about travel to England was also given more thought. I started researching. When I found out the trip was doable in terms of money, like about two to three thousand, I started thinking about taking my mom with me. My sons had already said they wouldn't go.
Well, then she got double pneumonia and ended up needing oxygen at home. Still, I started saving money and thinking about things we'd need. Special considerations would have to be planned for. The concentrator she used was bulky, heavy and hard to transport. The portables only lasted for a few hours and wouldn't be allowed on the plane anyway. She started to give up on that also.
One of the items listed on the Trip Memo was for those who need oxygen. $400 was needed to rent a Portable Oxygen Container. We'd seen people carrying these at the various casinos. Still thought they'd cost lots and they do. About $3000 for one of those babies.
Mom called the oxygen supply company to find out about the POC. Well, they have one already approved for airline travel, it was already paid for and we got extra batteries. The airline's webpage had a Special Needs page and the last thing we needed was the letter from the doctor for her to be able to use the POC on the plane. When we got that part of the plan in motion, it dawned on me. "We can go to England." Her eyes lit up.
08 October 2011
An Adventure Awaits for you and for me
I've mentioned that I was notified that I was eligible for the Elder's Trip in my long ago post. [Two weeks is an awfully long time on the net. Two ... weeks, man time is flying by.] A daily checklist of things that needed to be done was adhered to and both mom and I are cleared for the trip. All medicals, dentals, anything else has been taken care of. Now, we are just going through our clothes, washing them, making sure we have a decent mixture of dress and casual. Not to mention, checking with the other travelers to make sure they have what they need.
With all the details for preparations winding down, I'll finally get a chance to really look at the itinerary. All I know for sure is arrival at Las Vegas, Grand Canyon and trip home date. I've been to Vegas once. I've been to Phoenix, rather Mesa, AZ once. All else I only know from reading about the area.
There are a fair number of us going. The first thing anyone asks when meeting another elder is "Are you going on the trip?" Most answers are "Yes" which makes for a few people I know who aren't going for sure. Three to be exact. Must be more; I've only talked to one for sure.
In the midst of this, there is a bloghop I am participating in which is coming along nicely. The publish date for that is scheduled on 24 Oct 2011, Monday at 0000, give or take a few seconds. Hope you'll find it as interesting as it has been for us to create it. The begin of the adventure is linked to the bloghop logo on my sidebar. {which I'd better check on. Last time I tried to set it, it didn't go. The logo is there, just haven't linked it yet.}
I will be doing the bloghop myself. Although I have seen the parts as they have been created, I haven't really made my choices and followed along. I am looking forward to this adventure also. Hope you'll join me on that one.
With all the details for preparations winding down, I'll finally get a chance to really look at the itinerary. All I know for sure is arrival at Las Vegas, Grand Canyon and trip home date. I've been to Vegas once. I've been to Phoenix, rather Mesa, AZ once. All else I only know from reading about the area.
There are a fair number of us going. The first thing anyone asks when meeting another elder is "Are you going on the trip?" Most answers are "Yes" which makes for a few people I know who aren't going for sure. Three to be exact. Must be more; I've only talked to one for sure.
In the midst of this, there is a bloghop I am participating in which is coming along nicely. The publish date for that is scheduled on 24 Oct 2011, Monday at 0000, give or take a few seconds. Hope you'll find it as interesting as it has been for us to create it. The begin of the adventure is linked to the bloghop logo on my sidebar. {which I'd better check on. Last time I tried to set it, it didn't go. The logo is there, just haven't linked it yet.}
I will be doing the bloghop myself. Although I have seen the parts as they have been created, I haven't really made my choices and followed along. I am looking forward to this adventure also. Hope you'll join me on that one.
23 September 2011
Have required documents, will travel
The last few days have been busy. I got word that I can go on the annual Elder's trip. I didn't know physicals were needed. Times have changed since I last flew. Now, we have less than three weeks to get ready. Lucky I don't need a passport. Been working on getting one of those for the inevitable time when it is required. That project has only been in the works for 10 years. Right now, tribal id's are enough, at least for the States. Apparently, the Jay Treaty doesn't apply to Anishinabeg in the United States. That invisible line that separates Canada and USA divides my whole tribe. And that's all for that subject today. It's weird being Anishinabe and a United States citizen. Huhn.
Pleasanter aspects of the last couple weeks: our rice finished out to 97 pounds. We cooked up 1 pound on the first day. Manomin (wild rice) takes a long time to cook when one is hungry for it. My niece has been trying to get out on the lake since ricing started. It's been too windy. Although, she and her sister made it across the lake, only to turn around and come back. Today is a good day and she's at work. Told her she'd need to take a week off. They don't have any either. So, people are working hard now. I think the rainy, windy days of the last week, while helpful for the fire 70 miles away, didn't do much for the rice. Will have to work harder now.
Getting to know how to make slideshows with this nifty little program that came with my camera. I spent some time checking out public domain music. I might be able to talk my dad into playing some music for me. Unfortunately, the incidents with the blog posts are a fair indication of how that project might proceed. It seems all tournaments for gremlins have been concluded.
My sister was telling me the other night that she thinks they're back. She had a few problems with her machine. I've not noticed anything myself. Course, I just come home, rest, get ready, go again, come home go to sleep. I haven't used, wait...I think they are back. My son's car isn't working again. Every other year or so, a mouse takes up residence and makes a little mouse house in the engine around this time of year. Must remember to tell you that tale sometime. And the headlights aren't working. Daylight driving instead of daylight savings. Must go hunt up some lavendar....
Pleasanter aspects of the last couple weeks: our rice finished out to 97 pounds. We cooked up 1 pound on the first day. Manomin (wild rice) takes a long time to cook when one is hungry for it. My niece has been trying to get out on the lake since ricing started. It's been too windy. Although, she and her sister made it across the lake, only to turn around and come back. Today is a good day and she's at work. Told her she'd need to take a week off. They don't have any either. So, people are working hard now. I think the rainy, windy days of the last week, while helpful for the fire 70 miles away, didn't do much for the rice. Will have to work harder now.
Getting to know how to make slideshows with this nifty little program that came with my camera. I spent some time checking out public domain music. I might be able to talk my dad into playing some music for me. Unfortunately, the incidents with the blog posts are a fair indication of how that project might proceed. It seems all tournaments for gremlins have been concluded.
My sister was telling me the other night that she thinks they're back. She had a few problems with her machine. I've not noticed anything myself. Course, I just come home, rest, get ready, go again, come home go to sleep. I haven't used, wait...I think they are back. My son's car isn't working again. Every other year or so, a mouse takes up residence and makes a little mouse house in the engine around this time of year. Must remember to tell you that tale sometime. And the headlights aren't working. Daylight driving instead of daylight savings. Must go hunt up some lavendar....
14 September 2011
Scary reflections of a grown up teenager.
I was reading again, specifically this post by Candy Lynn Fite, a fellow Campaigner, and I was immediately reminded of the very first Stephen King novel I read - "Salem's Lot". I was at college, my first year living in an apartment, not the dorm. I couldn't put the book down. Naturally, it was evening when I started it, close to 0300 when I finished it.
One wall of the living room was glass with a sliding door and had a balcony feel to it. I lived on the ground floor which only spurred my imagination more. I couldn't bring myself to open the drapes, though I had to check the locks. Residents were coming in off and on because it was after closing. The bumps, thumps and loud giggles quickly shushed as they made their way to their apartments or up the stairs were not any easier to for me to push aside as just everyday normal sounds.
My roommates were sleeping, so I had to be quiet while searching for something silver, a cross or something I could use. The closest holy object I could find was a Bible. I sat with it on my lap for a few minutes, then read a couple passages. Even though I knew my roommate was in her bed, I surreptitiously checked to see if she was still herself. I accomplished this by standing as close to her bed as I dared, reasoning that if she was "turned" she'd have to "turn" me also. Nothing happened.
I went to my own bed, laid down and then remembered I hadn't checked the window. I was still clinging to the Bible and dreading having to get out of bed once again. Particularly as that meant I'd have to put my feet on the floor near the space under the bed. I struggled with this notion for about ten minutes. Finally, the last roommate came in and I heard her going through her nightly routine. I hadn't known she was still out. I was a little relieved as my imagination finally settled down enough for me to drift to sleep. I groggily put the Bible on the nightstand, and turned off the light. I closed my eyes. A thump had me reaching for the Bible which I then put under my pillow and fell asleep with my hand on the Bible.
One wall of the living room was glass with a sliding door and had a balcony feel to it. I lived on the ground floor which only spurred my imagination more. I couldn't bring myself to open the drapes, though I had to check the locks. Residents were coming in off and on because it was after closing. The bumps, thumps and loud giggles quickly shushed as they made their way to their apartments or up the stairs were not any easier to for me to push aside as just everyday normal sounds.
My roommates were sleeping, so I had to be quiet while searching for something silver, a cross or something I could use. The closest holy object I could find was a Bible. I sat with it on my lap for a few minutes, then read a couple passages. Even though I knew my roommate was in her bed, I surreptitiously checked to see if she was still herself. I accomplished this by standing as close to her bed as I dared, reasoning that if she was "turned" she'd have to "turn" me also. Nothing happened.
I went to my own bed, laid down and then remembered I hadn't checked the window. I was still clinging to the Bible and dreading having to get out of bed once again. Particularly as that meant I'd have to put my feet on the floor near the space under the bed. I struggled with this notion for about ten minutes. Finally, the last roommate came in and I heard her going through her nightly routine. I hadn't known she was still out. I was a little relieved as my imagination finally settled down enough for me to drift to sleep. I groggily put the Bible on the nightstand, and turned off the light. I closed my eyes. A thump had me reaching for the Bible which I then put under my pillow and fell asleep with my hand on the Bible.
13 September 2011
A Bit of Adventure
Going out on the lake yesterday was a little different from the other three days-windy vs. calm. We started out late and so chose the bay we were on on Saturday.
First inkling that maybe we should stay on land was turning the corner at the top of the hill. A gust of wind blew the canoe off the car. Of course, the rope on the back was cut, the one on the front came loose. We stopped and put the canoe back on, my son rode on the trunk holding it in place. We unloaded at the landing, got the canoe and supplies in the water by the dock. I started to get in, reached for the pole and voila, no pole. My son had the knocking sticks in his hand, meal/drinks by his side and no pole.
I went to the car: no pole. Had to get in the car, retrace my path to where the canoe fell off. No pole. Hiac. Now what? Then I spotted it. Someone had moved it to the side of the road. Now, we could continue. I decided that we would stick as close to the Landing as possible, in case we had to make a run for it. We only had the pole.
The wind wasn't too bad once we were in the rice bed. I kept watch on the sky, the clouds and the wind. After a couple hours, I decided that we'd start in. That's when we found out that maybe we stayed a little too long. The wind didn't seem all that strong until we headed back towards Landing. {My son claims I got blown around, I maintain that I knew where I was headed at all times.}
I followed the rice out toward the middle of the lake. I didn't particularly relish the idea of muckling through the lily pads. Wrong decision. {What? I meant unwise decision.} That is where the adventure started. What should have been a 15 minute cruise turned into a 45 minute battle with the wind.
First inkling that maybe we should stay on land was turning the corner at the top of the hill. A gust of wind blew the canoe off the car. Of course, the rope on the back was cut, the one on the front came loose. We stopped and put the canoe back on, my son rode on the trunk holding it in place. We unloaded at the landing, got the canoe and supplies in the water by the dock. I started to get in, reached for the pole and voila, no pole. My son had the knocking sticks in his hand, meal/drinks by his side and no pole.
I went to the car: no pole. Had to get in the car, retrace my path to where the canoe fell off. No pole. Hiac. Now what? Then I spotted it. Someone had moved it to the side of the road. Now, we could continue. I decided that we would stick as close to the Landing as possible, in case we had to make a run for it. We only had the pole.
The wind wasn't too bad once we were in the rice bed. I kept watch on the sky, the clouds and the wind. After a couple hours, I decided that we'd start in. That's when we found out that maybe we stayed a little too long. The wind didn't seem all that strong until we headed back towards Landing. {My son claims I got blown around, I maintain that I knew where I was headed at all times.}
I followed the rice out toward the middle of the lake. I didn't particularly relish the idea of muckling through the lily pads. Wrong decision. {What? I meant unwise decision.} That is where the adventure started. What should have been a 15 minute cruise turned into a 45 minute battle with the wind.
All was well for the first half of the trip, a few swings off course was all. I had my son move the rice to the front and situate himself more in the middle. Should have made him get closer to the front. I rested for a few minutes in order to make the crossing over the open water part, about 100 yards. "What are you doing?" "I'm waiting for the wind to die down." "I don't think it's gonna, Mom." "You're right." The currents were not matching with the wind waves. I had it in my mind that maybe I should have put out tobacco for the trip home. {A lady is in the water in that part of the lake. My cousin and I had an experience with her years ago. Alas, no time for that tale.}
We were almost in the home stretch when my son decides to help me steer, forgetting that poling is different from paddling. "Let go!" Too late. The back swung around and next thing, we're facing back the way we came. I kept poling, only sitting down. "Do we have to go in backwards?" "Yeah. I can't get the canoe turned back.
By now the wind is gusting pretty good, white caps were frothing over in their glee, their mad rush to the end of the lake. Finally, made it to the reeds that were only about 50 yards from shore, where we managed to get the canoe turned back around. Now, I had to crouch, at times, sit, in order to move the canoe forward. One last push, thunk, the tip hit the dock and got stuck between the tire and the webbing. Rats.
My son took the pole, pushed a little, then heaved us on shore. Surprised to find it only 1438 hours. Sure was glad we didn't cross the lake.
We were almost in the home stretch when my son decides to help me steer, forgetting that poling is different from paddling. "Let go!" Too late. The back swung around and next thing, we're facing back the way we came. I kept poling, only sitting down. "Do we have to go in backwards?" "Yeah. I can't get the canoe turned back.
By now the wind is gusting pretty good, white caps were frothing over in their glee, their mad rush to the end of the lake. Finally, made it to the reeds that were only about 50 yards from shore, where we managed to get the canoe turned back around. Now, I had to crouch, at times, sit, in order to move the canoe forward. One last push, thunk, the tip hit the dock and got stuck between the tire and the webbing. Rats.
My son took the pole, pushed a little, then heaved us on shore. Surprised to find it only 1438 hours. Sure was glad we didn't cross the lake.
Blogger Award
Ms. Saba, Of Thoughts and Words, has graciously awarded me the Liebster Blog Award. Thank you for this honor.
The Liebster Blog Award is given to bloggers with less than 200 followers who other bloggers believe deserve more followers, which is then passed on to more awesome bloggers.
Here are the official rules:
1. Show your appreciation to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2. Reveal your top five picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Bask in the camaraderie of the most supportive people on the internet-other writers.
5. And best of all, have fun and spread the love.
And here are my picks:
1. The Ageless Druid
2. Alana Saltz Memoir Writer
3. Mystic Treehouse
4. Paws, Fangs and Smiles
5. Tameri Etherton
{I think the g-----ns are back from their tournament. Formatting and linking didn't want to work.}
The Liebster Blog Award is given to bloggers with less than 200 followers who other bloggers believe deserve more followers, which is then passed on to more awesome bloggers.
Here are the official rules:
1. Show your appreciation to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2. Reveal your top five picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Bask in the camaraderie of the most supportive people on the internet-other writers.
5. And best of all, have fun and spread the love.
And here are my picks:
1. The Ageless Druid
2. Alana Saltz Memoir Writer
3. Mystic Treehouse
4. Paws, Fangs and Smiles
5. Tameri Etherton
{I think the g-----ns are back from their tournament. Formatting and linking didn't want to work.}
10 September 2011
Rest Day
Taking the day off the lake. We have rice to parch. First, we need to find some wood. Boy am I glad it was my son who decided not to go first. I didn't want him saying that I was the first to wimp out. Staying on shore will give me some time to get a few other things done besides parching the rice.
I have been reading through the list of the First Challenge on the Campaign Trail. There are some very good entries. Glad I'm not judging these. It's hard enough to pick out the ones we're allowed to vote for. The best part is that I've read a couple other bloggers who weren't in any of my groups. So for those of you are following that side of my latest doings, there are quite a few items I have added.
On another note, I most certainly am glad I walked over the summer. Though the past two days have been ideal ricing days, no clouds meaning no wind and finding a good sized patch, it was still a workout to come back in. The open water was a little choppy which reminded me why I don't like crossing the lake to get to those beds. The first day, we came back through a really thick stand of rice using only paddles. My shoulders are sore as I knocked while my son paddled. When we can pole, I'll switch to poling. Yay.
We have enough for eating for one year when we get done with the first two days pickings. We'll move on to the extras. With all the feasts and gatherings, we'll need about another 50 pounds. Then for gifts I think another 50. So we're working on a goal of another 100 or so pounds finished. At the rate of the last two days, that'll be another 3 or so days. Might be less if we can get used to the workouts.
I have been reading through the list of the First Challenge on the Campaign Trail. There are some very good entries. Glad I'm not judging these. It's hard enough to pick out the ones we're allowed to vote for. The best part is that I've read a couple other bloggers who weren't in any of my groups. So for those of you are following that side of my latest doings, there are quite a few items I have added.
On another note, I most certainly am glad I walked over the summer. Though the past two days have been ideal ricing days, no clouds meaning no wind and finding a good sized patch, it was still a workout to come back in. The open water was a little choppy which reminded me why I don't like crossing the lake to get to those beds. The first day, we came back through a really thick stand of rice using only paddles. My shoulders are sore as I knocked while my son paddled. When we can pole, I'll switch to poling. Yay.
We have enough for eating for one year when we get done with the first two days pickings. We'll move on to the extras. With all the feasts and gatherings, we'll need about another 50 pounds. Then for gifts I think another 50. So we're working on a goal of another 100 or so pounds finished. At the rate of the last two days, that'll be another 3 or so days. Might be less if we can get used to the workouts.
Another post from Father
To #1
Cross a four leaf clover with poison ivy and perhaps you will get a rash of good luck.
from Father
07 September 2011
First Campaigner Challenge
On the Campaign Trail - Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, “The door swung open” These four words will be included in the word count... an added challenge (optional), use the same beginning words and end with the words: "the door swung shut."...make your story 200 words EXACTLY!
The Open Door
The door swung open
There it was in front of me
I beheld the worn out step
Those who entered fearlessly
Won the passage through
I know this time it's only me
I stood before that open door
Thinking of those who've left
Thinking of those behind me
Reasoning out the steps
I took that ended there
The open door is all that's left
Standing, watching, waiting
The silence got louder, louder
The worn out step loomed large
My thoughts those of the doubter
I wrestled all thoughts within me
Cast them out, centered my power
The cool wind touched my hair
Swooped merrily around my body
Light bright, brighter, brighter still
I touched it, hands knotty,
Strained to contain the magic
Welling inside me, washing my body
The door is just beyond the worn step
I must cross while the magic is there
The step is past, the door is near
I walk toward the door as fast as I dare
The threshold under my feet as I step
No worries, no fears, just wonder so fair
The past was past, all ties were cut
I looked about, then heard the sound
Quiet click as the door swung shut
The Open Door
The door swung open
There it was in front of me
I beheld the worn out step
Those who entered fearlessly
Won the passage through
I know this time it's only me
I stood before that open door
Thinking of those who've left
Thinking of those behind me
Reasoning out the steps
I took that ended there
The open door is all that's left
Standing, watching, waiting
The silence got louder, louder
The worn out step loomed large
My thoughts those of the doubter
I wrestled all thoughts within me
Cast them out, centered my power
The cool wind touched my hair
Swooped merrily around my body
Light bright, brighter, brighter still
I touched it, hands knotty,
Strained to contain the magic
Welling inside me, washing my body
The door is just beyond the worn step
I must cross while the magic is there
The step is past, the door is near
I walk toward the door as fast as I dare
The threshold under my feet as I step
No worries, no fears, just wonder so fair
The past was past, all ties were cut
I looked about, then heard the sound
Quiet click as the door swung shut
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