Where's The Dog?

    When we were first married and living here, I would drive down the street which took me to my street on my way home from work, doing errands and what not.  Driving through a fairly boring but pleasant suburban area with older tract homes I began to notice one particular house with a yard on a corner.  Nothing special about the house and there was an ugly chain link fence around the front yard.  Not a big one, a short one and I began to take note of the happy black lab that was often in the yard. 
     He was happiest when his boys were out there playing with him, racing around and around as happy labs do.  I also began to notice two boys in the front yard, most often they were playing catch with a baseball.  There was a significant age difference, the older one looked like he was in high school, the younger one looked under 10y.o.  I would think, "What a cool older brother!"  Really, I saw them out there so often I began to look for them.  I began to look forward to catching a glimpse of the little scene that played out so often. 
      Just as often, I would see the happy lab not running around but waiting on the front steps waiting for his boys to come home.  And often the yard was just empty.  After a time, I realized that the yard was more empty than not.  And when the happy lab was there, he was usually alone, lounging around or sniffing or sleeping.  
    Suddenly, I began to see boys playing catch in the front yard again.  I was a little disappointed because they were two teenage boys and I thought "Well, I guess the older brother does need to interact with friends his own age.  I hope the younger brother doesn't feel left out."  The other thought was "Dang, the dog is looking old!"  I could see the white on it's muzzle as I drove by.   Then it dawned on me!  I am such a dork!  That was the YOUNGER brother in the yard playing catch with a friend his own age!  About 10 years had gone by and (duh!) the boys grew up.  The younger one was about the age of the older one when I first noticed them.  Had that much time really gone by so fast? 
     Again, the yard began to be empty more often than not and at a certain point I figured the boys were off to college and the doggy had lived out it's happy life.  Then lo and behold!  I saw the lab sitting on the front steps again.  Oh, he looked so old.  So much white all over his head and moving slow and creaky.  But it made me happy to catch a glimpse of "The Dog" as he was now known.  (My husband and I realized a couple of years into this that we were noticing the same thing separately and would comment on it when driving by together.)   Then I realized I had lived here 15 years and that was one old dog and time really does fly. 
     Driving down that road yesterday I noticed I still anticipate coming around that corner to check out that yard to see if anyone is there.  It has become habit, unconscious.  This time, for whatever reason, a voice in my head said "It's been twenty years, The Dog has died by now.  The boys are adults and don't live there anymore."  Again, I can't believe how much time has gone by.  How did it happen?  Where did it go?  Where was I when it went?  Sometimes I think about leaving a note on the chain link fence letting them how much their yard has been a part of my life and that I remember their dog and boys..... but I get to that point and realize it sounds a little creepy. 


So, I will keep driving by, and by habit, look to see if The Dog is out there today.

Boom

I live about 3 miles from the gas line explosion in San Bruno.  I could see the smoke (but not the fireball) from my driveway.  I am haunted by knowing all those people went through something unimaginable.  I wonder what would I have done?  Froze?  Panicked?  Think clearer than normal?  What would I have done with (fill in the blank)?  That pipeline, that old 1948 pipeline, that pipeline that PGE knows has serious issues, makes it way north from San Bruno,  It splits off from its route along Junipera Serra to drop down Avalon, cross El Camino (around SSF HS, I believe and my most, all time favorite place to go recently...Eggettes) and runs parallel to El Camino by the Kaiser and BART....I stopped looking at the map at that point.  We are bordered on three side by this aging pipeline that PGE has sent Memo's about.  The same pipeline that erupted with sudden violence and forced a neighborhood to flee while their skin blistered and burned and their house turned in to ashy piles of memories more often than not with a red brick finger of a chimney pointing at the empty sky.  I wrote on my Facebook status "Fear = the great equalizer" and people hijacked my posting and began to wax philosophical about fear and ignorance and prejudice and I wanted to say "blahblahblahblahblah".  No disrespect intended, impatience and frustration yes.  I had to make myself clear and said... I'm not talking about that kind of fear, I'm talking about the "Ohmygod, ohmygod, what do I do?!" life and death kind of fear.  Because no matter who you are, what you own, how much you make or how much you owe, who your parents are, what your religion, race or dress size is...when it comes down to real, honest to goodness FEAR  we are all equal and speaking the same language.  It's a terrible thing, fear.  Necessary, but terrible.  And in the end we are all just living organisms fighting to survive in this dangerous world.   The crushing truth is, some of use make it and some of us don't.  And that is weighing heavy on my heart these days.





Who's name is pulled from your gut and spoken aloud when you think you are going to die?

How Special!

"Behind the prickly exterior lies a true gem." 
"I'm really not a nasty person and really try to go out of my way not to harm people but ..."
"She's really a nice person once you get to know her!"

All three of these quotes are real.  All three refer to different people.  And in each case the person in question is...well, questionable.  What they present to the world is not pleasant, kind or nice.  And yet (here it comes, drumroll please!) why is everyone else supposed to make allowances for them?  What makes them soooo special that the rest of the world has to work to get on their good side?  My answer is simply "ego".  They each have an ego that would fill up the Cow Palace (local reference here, Google it if you are interested.  If not just trust that it is a really big place.  They didn't call it a Palace for nothing.)  I am getting really tired of this type of personality who thinks it is okay to treat people like crap.  And shame on the other people feed into it and justify their idol's abusive behavior.  There, I said it!  Yes, abusive behavior.  You are not special...you are the dreaded Narcissistic Personality Disorder.  Get over yourself already.




If you meet this type of person, run (don't walk) in the other direction.

Too Many To Count

Well, not really...I am prone hyperbole.  I just finished a letterbox to plant.  Was this cause for joy and celebration?  Yes and no.  I love the feeling of putting those final touches on the box and knowing it is good to go.  I know where I want to plant it.  Not the EXACT location for the box, but the place I want to take people.  So that is the "yes" part.  The "no" part is that this little box now joins an ever growing pile of completed boxes clamoring to be planted. 
I have no real excuse or reason.  The weather's been fine, there has been time available.  What's the hitch???  The short answer is:  me.  The long answer is:  I have discovered I get a little particular (or as it is said in the modern vernacular:  anal) when it come to planting.  The place has to be appropriate to the box... the actual spot needs to be accessible but discrete... exposure both to prying eyes and the elements has to be considered.   Are all these things ABSOLLUTLY necessary?  The short answer is: no.  The long answer is:  apparently in my mind, yes.  (Okay, that is not really a long answer, but it is more than the first monosyllabic one.  Semantics, semantics!)  This is not to mention the stamps in progress, plus the ones in my head, not to mention the spots picked but no stamp image in mind yet. 
I'm not sure how to get over this hurdle, but I better figure it out soon or I will be overwhelmed with waiting boxes.  Although I suppose there are worse things in the world to contend with.  Or is this just another case of "kitty mittens"!?


^..^

Running Out of Options

What are the options when the things you like to do are the very things that cause you pain and make it difficult or impossible to live the rest of your life?  Case in point:  I like to cook, knit, carve, sew, read, write, research.  All of those things involve the posture of "head down, hands forward".  This posture KILLS me.  I get migraines, muscle spasms, inflammation, pain.  Screeeeech!  That is the sound of my life coming to a halt.  I like to walk, dance, play.  You name a body part, it will start tightening up or hurting.  Sigh.  I don't like to exercise or do my PT, but I do them anyway.  Oh, guess what?  It is insanely easy to cross that line from therapeutic to exacerbating the underlying condition.  My recovery rate is an ever-so-slightly-upward-slanting-line of improvement.  We're talking years here.  Even the things I really hate doing, but have to do anyway, will cause all the same problems.  Cleaning, folding clothes, sorting papers, wiping counters.  Which is why no one is allowed to enter my house anymore, except for a select few who are in similar states.  So, I am left with only a few options that are still easy to do and don't cause me pain.  Complain, whine, bitch, rage, snark, snap, whimper.  And I am getting really gooooooooooooooooood at those!  And another thing that is a problem:  being on the computer to long.  Which is why I have to cut this sho-



silly wabbit ;-)

US vs THEM (or the myth of "muggles")

I have noticed that almost every "group" I have encountered recently (regardless of if I am a part of it or not) uses a specific term to mean "those who are not us".  Depending on the group, the term varies...however, recently "muggle" seems to be the favored word.  (I've also heard "turkey", "mundane", etc.)  For the most part, and this is what disturbs me, the term usually indicates that "those who are not us" are somehow lesser.  Not simply "different", they are somehow "not as good as."   So even if that is not the actual sentiment the term used implies it.  I see adults, fully formed human beings, morphing into cliques reminiscent of adolescents.  I'm not sure what bothers me more, the fact that the US vs. THEM attitude is so common or that people don't realize there is something dysfunctional about it.  (I won't go into my dislike of the "functional dysfunctional" myth.  Um, ick...)   Seems like I see microcosms of the wider world everywhere, and ultimately we are all more similar that we'd like to believe.  And that is not a bad thing...


...

I kinda care, but kinda don't...

One of my plants is a series in the Sunset district in SF.  I had bought some funky carving material and figured I'd do a "throw away" planting (meaning that if they disappeared I wouldn't recarve/replant).  It was an experiment for myself also, not just a standard stamp...something for folks to play with.  Well, it turned out to be "blue diamond" rated.  I was totally surprised and kind of pleased.  So, when I found out one was missing, of course I recarved and have been trying to replant (there are some issues hindering a speedy re-do).  In the meantime, I "lost" the blue diamond rating.  I was surprisingly disappointed, I didn't think I cared that much since I wasn't that attached to that series anyway.  I find myself amused at my vacillations.  "I thought that series wasn't one of your favorites?"  "It isn't, but I liked the ego boost of having a blue diamond."  "But it was a "throw away"."  "It was until everyone turned out to like it."  "Well, is it or isn't it?  Are you or aren't you?"  "I kinda care, but kinda don't..."


* *
---

Crossing my eyes....

Team Bad Wolf t-shirts---check!
Gatorade---check!
Decoder ring---check!
Clues---check!
Special siggy stamp---check!
Know the universal speed limit---check!
Both eyes blink---check!
Ibuprofen---check!
Spell---check!
Hey, that was an unintended pun.  I didn't know it until I re-read it. ;-)  That being said, time to get back to the unchecked things on the list.  Time to dot some i's and cross some t's.  Or else put some drops in my eyes and have a cup of tea. 


 > ^..^<

Ode to Sir Charles Bell

Ding Dong Hell
Gremmy's got the Bell.
Now she can't Pout
With this new Bout.
Only half a grin
From forehead to her chin.
What a freaky thing was that
When one side of her face fell flat.
The doctor says there is no harm
She says "Good, but goshdamndarn!"


123

A Thin Line Rant

There is a thin line between a positive attitude and denial.  I am seeing the difference right now in several people.  If someone has a "positive attitude", I'm all for it.  But too often the positive attitude crosses over into denial.  As in: if we just pretend everything is fine, everything will be fine.  Granted I'm not an optimist, nor am I a pessimist.  (Even though I may call myself one just for fun.)  I guess that makes me a realist?

Question:  Is the water glass half empty or half full?
My answer:  It's a glass of water, get over it already.

If you don't acknowledge the problems, how the hell are you ever going to fix them?  Especially if you are in a position of leadership and you tell people they are doing everything perfectly, you are doing them a dis-service.  How can they improve or grow or expand or learn?  You are telling them everything is perfect as is.  Sooner or later, reality is going to hit them with a bump and they will be shocked or worse embarassed.  (Okay, all this is contingent on IF the people involved want to fix/improve/grow.  If they don't then the point is moot, isn't it?)
Now here is my HUGE "but".....BUT this only applies to someone who is in that position of guideance, leadership or direction.  Nothing more annoying than someone who feels it necessary to correct everyone at liberty.  Appropriate behavior is a foreign term to them anyway.
"Cheerleaders" have their time and place (yay, go team!), but it shouldn't be a blanket approach.  And just because you say everything is fine, doesn't magically MAKE everything fine. 
(Cranky me sez:  It's no "Secret", it's not enough to imagine yourself a better person, you actually have to BE a better person.)

Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah...

123

Old Dog

I carved a stamp for someone today.  Well okay, I finished it today.  This it the 4th time I've carved for someone else using a theme I did not choose myself.  But it was different this time.  This was a very specific stamp and while I loved carving it, it was most certainly not in my usual genre.  It is very architectual, I had to have my nephew help me with the perspective as I am a very 2D carver still.  I would have never done something like that on my own and as I sat carving those little straight (ish) lines I was happy.  Happy to be pushed to try something new.  Happy to see it form up fairly well.  Happy to learn.  I think I am a perpetual student at heart, I love learning new things when I can.  I would hope to think that I am one of those old dogs who CAN learn new tricks.  I am not the person I was 10 years ago, not the person I was 20 years ago, for better or for worse I have changed, I hope it continues.

Non sum qualis eram.

123

Freedom of Speech

People like to use that phrase.  Often.  Let's get the core definition:  The right to express any opinion in public without censorship or restraint by the government.  Let's repeat the last 3 words:  by the government.
Does not mean one can say whatever they want, whenever they want, without  repercussions, reactions or consequenses.  Seriously.

I'm just sayin'

Cryptic Comment

Sooooooooooooooooo, it's kind of like saying "I don't want any more soda, so don't bring any more drinks to the table."  Maybe, just maybe, someone else would like another soda.  Who's sandbox is it anyway?

Athena Quest

I mean really!  I expected something more...  ;-)

Who Talks Like That?

Phone conversation:

"I cut my hair today, just to warn you...it's short."
"How short?"
"Short, short."
"Mia Farrow short?"
"Yeah, like Winona Ryder short."
"Cool."

I like how we used different references, but meant the same thing...with an unusual economy of words.


`

Who knew?

There was a tiny round park buried in Burlingame? 
There was such a thing as a Wave Organ?
There was a cemetery smack in the middle of Honolulu?
There were Lions in Sutro Park?
Was a columbarium was?
You could buy pirate supplies?
There were stairs to nowhere in the middle of nowhere?
There were once zeppelins in SF?
The old house that was turned into a school where they filmed a movie was attended by someone I just met and by someone my mother taught in kindergarten at a different school?

Who knew?  I sure didn't.


...

Questions for the ages...

1. What am I, chopped liver?
2. Did I not JUST say that?
3. But what do I know?
4. Do I look stupid?
5. In what universe is that acceptable?
6. You were either lying then, or you're lying now, which is it?
7. Is it REALLY any of your business?
8. I don't know, how transparent are you?
9. What did you think was going to happen?
10. Can I close the vent now?

Kitty Mittens

I picked up a saying from a friend of mine that goes "I'm knitting kitty mittens." It refers to those totally unnecessary activities one engages in when one is supposed to be doing something more pressing.

Funny!

I was playing around on Facebook today and found a silly "game" called SmallWorlds. I don't know all the lingo, so forgive me if I sound distinctly non-tech. So, it's a game where you have an avatar and can wander around doing and buying things. (Seems to be lots of young 'uns chatting each other up.) There are these things called Missions where you have to follow the instructions given and you get points, etc. I randomly clicked on one called something like EllaMoor something-something. And danged if it wasn't all about geo-caching and letterboxing. I had to laugh (or would that be LOL?) when one of the things you have to make your avatar say is "What is letterboxing?"

Blind Leading The Blind

So, my sister says she is coming up from the LA area to visit during her spring break. In those handful of days she'll be here, we will: go lbing, have tea and go to yarn shops. Doesn't sound like a very packed schedule, does it? Muah, ha, ha, ha, ha! How little you know! I forsee stops at AT LEAST two tearooms, perhaps three. I know of a minimum of 23 appropriate boxes I can escort her to so she can break in her boxing teeth. And even though there is only one yarn store on the docket right now, the bubble tea place is just a block away so a visit there is vital, too. I wonder what the final count will be when she leaves? I better start training right now, I only have a couple of weeks to get in shape! Think I'll start with the tea drinking aspect...