Image #116 – Miley Cyrus…eat your heart out

Image #116 (1)There’s been a lot of talk recently about Miley Cyrus. I was fortunate enough to miss her performance but there’s been no missing the news coverage. In addition to her twerking it was also mentioned that she has an agile tongue. My cat, Rainbow, as you can see, would be happy to give Miley a run for her money.

Having seen “the twerk” in other video pieces I would have to say that it is not the most attractive dance move I’ve ever seen but I’m old enough to remember when The Twist was deemed offensive and threatened western culture as we know it. Of course seeing what has come after The Twist perhaps all the critics were correct. ☙

Image #115 – New Day

Image #115 (1)We’re back!  Bigger and better than ever…  Computer woes are (hopefully) behind us. The new iMac is a joy and the transfer of data was a breeze. When you’ve matured along with the computer industry you can REALLY appreciate advancement. Twenty years ago it was a nightmare to transfer data from an old computer to a new one. This time the delays were the operator’s fault,  not the operating system.  And there is the pesky element of serial numbers and product keys.   Software programs are unrelenting about wanting that kind of stuff. Having recently moved it was a bit time consuming tracking down some really old, original boxes and discs. Programs are not happy with update product numbers. They are insistent on the original product number.  To all my friends and followers I can highly recommend 1Password. Not only does it track all those online passwords but it also has a folder specifically for software data. It made this process much easier.

So, back to an image a day.  Frequent readers will recall this was supposed to be the iconic photography project – 365.  365 images in 365 days.  I’ve already cheated since I don’t make it a picture I took THAT day.  Sometimes it works out that way but mostly I viewed this as a chance to share some of my pictures, expound a bit on life in a new community or other matters, and keep in touch with friends. I’m sure there are some very disciplined photographers who have done the true 365.  My hat is off to them but now it is back to my version.

This tall fellow, by the way, with his small traveler on the back of his neck, is a giraffe from the Paraa Preserve in Uganda, Africa. I was on a medical mission and we had a day of R&R at the Preserve.  A special time … ☙

Computer Woes…

To my frequent readers, my daily image postings are in a hiatus because of computer woes. My beloved 8 year-old Mac Pro computer is in hospice care. I thought it had died on Wednesday, the writing had been on the wall for some time. I ordered a new iMac which has arrived and will begin the moving process today. I was able to coax the Mac Pro back to life but it wasn’t happy about it. Hopefully it can hold on a bit longer.
Postings will return in a few days. Thanks to those who took the time to wonder.

Words matter

Recently I heard a television news report about the suicide death of a teenage girl in Florida.  The report stated she was “bullied in cyberspace” by more than a dozen girls and could no longer stand the pain.  Her mother poignantly asked of those who bullied her daughter, “Who teaches them the hate?”

A very good question.

This young girl, press reports say she was 12, was first bullied at school and then the bullying followed her home on Facebook. Even after switching schools and closing down the Facebook site the bullying continued via other social media.

It is hard for me to understand how anyone can be “terrorized” in “cyberspace.”  But I am more than half a century older than this girl. We may as well be from different planets. I am wise enough to see that today’s children and teenagers inhabit a world that is far different from the one in which I “came of age.”

I remember being bullied but it was contained to school. When I came home I knew I was safe. When I was twelve my parents moved us from Massachusetts to Florida and I switched from public school to parochial. That school switch prompted some bullying but it probably also saved me because we wore uniforms. My parents were not wealthy and, as a culture, we had begun to enter an age in which “branding” was everything. The “right” shoes, dress, car…all of it became so important because everything we read or saw said it was.

So, is it the “branding” that teaches us hate? To a certain extent I think the answer is yes. Many children have so much material wealth with no sense of how it arrives and the tribal nature of children encourages cohesion and exclusion based on what is most familiar and comfortable.

But I also think of the time in which this young girl lived. She was born in 2000 and in the whole of her life she only knew war and divisiveness. War in Iraq and Afghanistan, divisiveness … everywhere.  Elections, Congress, TV talking heads, gangs, Fox vs. CNN, Apple v. PC, and on and on.  She was bombarded daily by thousands of words, not all of them very nice words and the majority of them thoughtless–as in without thought.

When they eventually identify the 12-15 girls who cyber-bullied this young twelve year-old I am sure that one of them will say, “Well, I never thought ________.”  Fill in the blank. You know what it will be. Another pathetic apology about the sin of not thinking that words matter.

And that is where this story becomes so sad to me. According to the report I saw this young girl, Rebecca Ann Sedwick, wrote the following:

“How many lives have to be lost until people realize that words do matter?”

Oh, Rebecca.  My heart was already aching for you but these words pierced my soul because they are SO true. Words do matter and our society has forgotten that. We seem to be moving at light speed away from the understanding of words and their value.

Several years ago I overheard two young colleagues talking to each other and one used the expression “ ’Ho” in referring to the other.  Something like “You ‘ho.”  I couldn’t bear it any longer and I called them to task. “Words matter,” I said. “If you call her a ‘ho she becomes a ‘ho.”  They both looked at me with that look the young give the old.  It plainly states, “You don’t understand.”

The one who had used the term tried to defend it and the recipient of the description waved it off, as if to say “It’s nothing.”

“You don’t understand,” I said.  “Language is the bedrock of society. If our language deteriorates so will our culture. Words are important.”

They both looked at me differently and the one who had used the phrase became thoughtful. “Language is the bedrock of society…,” she said.  “I have never thought of words in that way.”

For Rebecca’s sake, let’s please start thinking about our words.

Image #79 – Well, maybe not all briars ….

Image #79You know how it is.  Just when you make a strong statement about … well, almost anything…life throws you the exception and there you are eating crow.  So, that’s me today.  In my blog yesterday I ranted and raved about how I hate briars.  And I do. But then I was reviewing these pictures from yesterday and what do I spot?  Briars!  Tiny but, nevertheless, briars.  It is, in fact, a Sensitive Briar or Littleleaf Sensitive-briar (Mimosa microphylla).  The bee gives you a clue to its sizeIt grows down our hillside in an overgrown patch that needs some attention but I’m unsure what kind of attention it needs.  For the moment it is a pleasant enough area for wildflowers to occupy. The bees are very happy with the arrangement.  This particular bee was one of several varieties I saw. Not all the various kinds of bees would come to this particular flower. There were different varieties of flowers and the bees had their favorites. This bee returned again and again to this flower.  And why not? It’s one briar I think I could love.  Yin-yang, my friends.☙

Image #52 – The Pipes Are Calling

Image #52aIt is July 20th. Forty-three years ago the first men landed on the moon and it is the birth date of  my dear friend Barbra Jenks.  She would have been 47-years old today but AIDS took her life in 1992.   She has been dead for more than twenty years.  It is nearly impossible to believe.

Here in North Carolina, on Fawn Hill, in 2013, life goes on and the Indian Pipes are beginning to fade.  They seem to be sprouting up everywhere on the hill around me but the earliest blooms are definitely on the down-side of growth and I have my doubts about whether the new growth will be able to match the growth spurts of the other stands. The signs of de-comp in the older stands are there in blackness that tinges the petals and the mushy texture of the stalks. Still, they are clearly producing nectar as the honey bee showed me.

Image #52

He buzzed by my ear as I lay on the soft bed of leaves in the woods trying to get “just the right shot” on the Indian Pipes. Soon I was engaged in an energetic effort to get a clear photo of this bee who worked the petals with remarkable familiarity. I couldn’t do it. He was too fast for me. I have some wonderfully focused pictures of his rear-end as he nuzzled into each petal but this grainy photo is the best I can do for a full frontal of this wonderful bee.

Life goes on. This bee knows nothing of men landing on the moon or Barbra’s untimely death. His life is short and his focus intense. There is a lesson there for all of us. ☙

Image #45 – All Beginnings are Hard

Alice1stdayatschool - Version 2I’ve been “off the grid” for a couple of days. For those who don’t know, I’ve been moving from Florida to North Carolina. On Friday the movers finally arrived with my things. I’m restoring/renovating a 25-year old, double-wide mobile home that has been abandoned for two years. It has been a chore. I knew that the more I did before the movers arrived the happier I would be and I was right.

So, what does any of this have to do with the image I have chosen for this post?  Well, my sister is fond of saying that “all beginnings are hard.” And it’s true. I am embarking on a new beginning. So as I thought of what image to post tonight I suddenly flashed on this one. That’s me, in the foreground, arriving back from my first day at school. It is 1953 in Norton, Massachusetts.  My sister is behind me. As the last of four children I can tell you that pictures of me are available but are no where near the quantity of the first three. Still, my mother was a very intelligent and cognitive woman. She captured moments of my life that are very dear and telling to me. This is an example. My first day of school and I am brimming over with confidence and things to tell her.  It is written all over me. Beginnings ARE hard but there is something in them that I have always relished. And that is how I am feeling now. Relishing this new moment, this new beginning. I am 65 years old and I still know that little girl in the picture above. Remember, the only thing that can keep on growing is spirit. ☙

Image #29

Image #29The super moon of 2013 occurred this past weekend.  I was able to grab some photos of the event from the front yard of my new home in Franklin, NC.  Arriving on June 21, the summer solstice, the “Super Moon” happened the next night and, as you can see, we had nice clear skies.

Pulling up stakes and moving on is always daunting.  I can recall a period during my college years when I moved every six months but I was in my twenties then and what I owned fit in a VW beetle.  At worse I was faced with two trips in the VW.  Today, at 65, things are quite a bit different.  The move did give me the opportunity to “lighten the load” but there is still a very sizeable quantity of “stuff” on its way to NC.

I won’t bore you with another essay on “stuff.”  Rather I will cut to the chase — moving is scary business. As a species we seem to abhor change which is ironic because life is nothing but change.  This move came about in fits and starts and as I sit here in a relatively empty double-wide trailer, on the side of a hill in a town I can barely find the center of, I will readily admit to wondering what in the world am I doing here? The answer is simple.  I am living my life and a part of me has always wanted to live in these hills and enjoy their wonders.  Life presented me with a chance to do that and I have seized the moment.  It pleases me that things seemed to conspire so that my arrival was on the solstice and that the universe presented such a wonderful show on my second night in my new home. Where will the next solstice find me?  ☙

Life Expectancy – What Should We Wish For?

Elder_HandCurrently I am in the process of moving and breaking apart a home in which I have lived for just over ten years.  It is my third house in eighteen years and whenever there is a move the process is to discard things — “hoe out” as my mother would say.  This time I am trying to be very diligent about the hoeing because I know the next time will not be any easier … nor will the times after that.

How many times? Well, there’s the question that has no answer since none of us can know what life will bring our way. But we can make some educated guesses and today I found a book that led me down that educated-guesstimate path.

It had been given to my late husband on the occasion of his 46th birthday. (We didn’t know at the time that he would have just seven more birthdays and one residence move.) The book was entitled “Happy Birthday: January 23” (his birth day) and is a clever collection of facts about the date.  But in the back is a fascinating chart entitled “At Your Age” which starts with age 1 and goes to age 100 and lists things like the number of times your heart has beat, the number of hours you have slept, breathes you have taken, etc. at any given age.  It’s very interesting. For example, I am aged 65 and my heart has beat an astounding 2,706,940,800 times!

I decided this information is fun to have handy and went online to see if I could locate a similar chart.  I couldn’t. (So I’ll rip the pages out of the book, scan them and throw it all away.)  But I did locate a fascinating website called “How Long Will I Live?”  You fill in data about yourself, press the “Calculate Life Expectancy” and Voila!  You are provided with the  best actuarial the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania can muster.

My life expectancy is 90.03 years.  On the lower end it is 83.32 but there is a 75% chance I will live longer than that.  Even at my median lifetime of 90.99 years there is a 50% chance I will live longer!

I wish I could say I found comfort and joy in these numbers but I don’t. I guess I have seen too much during my time as a nurse.  The golden years should probably be re-named the fool’s gold years because in most instances they are nothing like the plans that people make.  Laura Smith sings about this beautifully in a song entitled “I Never Dreamed”.  In one line she sings “I didn’t dream about old people/Getting diseases in their brains.”  It happens more and more.  We conquer the heart disease or cancer only to end up with dementia.  So, you can live to be 93 and your heart will beat 3,658,928,400 times, you will inhale 565,880,515 breaths, and eat 102,725 meals but you can’t remember what you ate for breakfast or the day of the week.

Honestly, I need to drink more and take up smoking.  🙂

The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless. Mahatma Gandhi
The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless.
Mahatma Gandhi

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑