Heroes
The world today is seriously fucked up when it comes to heroes. Generations of kids have grown up idolizing people whose only quality is unlimited wealth. Football players who miraculously graduated from notable colleges but still can't speak English properly. So-called "superstars" with no taste but plenty of cash.
And when it comes to female heroes (I hate the word "heroine") who is there? Angelina Jolie? OK, Oprah's done a lot of good with her money but when it comes down to it she's just a talk show host.
I've been thinking a lot lately about women I admire. Not just my friends (although I do love and admire all of them) but women whose life made a difference for the better. Here are a few women who should be remembered but mostly aren't:
Edith Cavell: A British nurse and all-around good soul who is credited with saving nearly 200 allied soldiers in WWI by hiding them from the Germans. She was tried and executed for her actions. One of her most memorable sayings is "patriotism is not enough."
Vera Brittain: Writer, feminist and pacifist. After losing her only brother, her fiance, and her two best friends she dedicated her life to peace. Her memoir of WWI Testament of Youth chronicles her losses and her experiences as a nurse on the front lines of the Great War.
Violet Szabo and Noor Inayat Khan: Both operatives with the Special Operations Executive during WWII. Each volunteered for duty inside occupied France and each was captured, tortured, and executed by the Nazis. I cannot imagine the courage it would take to voluntarily go into enemy territory to help fight for a cause you believe in.
Alva Belmont: Alva was rich but her heart was definitely in the right place. "I have been crying in the wilderness for wealthy women to give up their leisure and do something to justify their existence." She was a major benefactor of women's rights and campaigned tirelessly for better and safer working conditions for female factoring workers.
Myrlie Evers-Williams: "You can kill a man but you can't kill an idea." After her husband Medgar Evers was murdered, Myrlie dedicated her life to civil rights. She was the first woman to serve as board chair for the NAACP.
I could list a dozen more, but I don't want to bore you. Each of these women inspires me in some way. And I hope one day to do something remarkable enough to make someone else's list.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
The Endless Question
I hate to sound all housewife-y, but I'm fed up with cooking dinner.
I have never enjoyed cooking. Baking is different. I love to make cookies -- probably because they taste better than any dinner I can make. But I hate cooking dinner. Sometimes I think it's not the cooking as much as I hate deciding what to cook every day. I don't have a very expansive repertoire (sorry, Husband) and when I do try something new it tends to suck. There have been many nights I've gotten all adventurous only to end up making popcorn when my chicken a la prune tastes like chicken a la prune. To make it worse I have a cupboard full of cookbooks that really do nothing but take up space.
Part of the problem is that when I'm at the grocery store I can never think of what to buy. So I fall back on the fallback; usually chicken. Then of course I get home and have no clue what to do with it. Having no culinary imagination, I'll stand in front of the cupboard looking at random ingredients and trying to guess what chicken will taste like with peanut butter and cereal on it. (Yes I'm kidding.)
When it does occur to me to consult one of my many cookbooks or a recipe website I'll stumble across something that sounds wonderful only to realize that I don't typically keep apple butter and soba noodles in the pantry. Sure I have the staples, but after a while the staples are boring.
And poor Husband comes home after working so hard, gives me the inevitable question of "what do you want to do about dinner?" and i fall into a mindless stupor.
I hate to sound all housewife-y, but I'm fed up with cooking dinner.
I have never enjoyed cooking. Baking is different. I love to make cookies -- probably because they taste better than any dinner I can make. But I hate cooking dinner. Sometimes I think it's not the cooking as much as I hate deciding what to cook every day. I don't have a very expansive repertoire (sorry, Husband) and when I do try something new it tends to suck. There have been many nights I've gotten all adventurous only to end up making popcorn when my chicken a la prune tastes like chicken a la prune. To make it worse I have a cupboard full of cookbooks that really do nothing but take up space.
Part of the problem is that when I'm at the grocery store I can never think of what to buy. So I fall back on the fallback; usually chicken. Then of course I get home and have no clue what to do with it. Having no culinary imagination, I'll stand in front of the cupboard looking at random ingredients and trying to guess what chicken will taste like with peanut butter and cereal on it. (Yes I'm kidding.)
When it does occur to me to consult one of my many cookbooks or a recipe website I'll stumble across something that sounds wonderful only to realize that I don't typically keep apple butter and soba noodles in the pantry. Sure I have the staples, but after a while the staples are boring.
And poor Husband comes home after working so hard, gives me the inevitable question of "what do you want to do about dinner?" and i fall into a mindless stupor.
Photo of the day: A Bit of Moss
As we stagger towards full with this freakish weather -- 90 one day-60 the next -- I find myself looking forward to getting out there and shooting some more. I'll miss the nursery when it closes officially but am anticipating being able to put in some good work in the next few months.
As we stagger towards full with this freakish weather -- 90 one day-60 the next -- I find myself looking forward to getting out there and shooting some more. I'll miss the nursery when it closes officially but am anticipating being able to put in some good work in the next few months.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Photo of the day: Great Grandfather
I bought this antique camera years ago. It seems odd to be photographing it with today's modern digital cameras. In its day this old, elegant machine was state-of-the-art. Collapsable, for easy storage. With a sturdy case for traveling. It's a beautiful camera, far more stylish than what I'm using now. My current camera, while lovely and full of tricks is not, it itself, a good subject for a photograph. But back in the day they made things beautiful for the sake of beauty, and it still shows. I doubt 75 years from now someone will pick up my camera and say "wow, this is gorgeous." But they mind find this one man and still marvel at the sophisticated design and elegant black and gold tones. Ah...they don't make 'em that way anymore. Sadly.
I bought this antique camera years ago. It seems odd to be photographing it with today's modern digital cameras. In its day this old, elegant machine was state-of-the-art. Collapsable, for easy storage. With a sturdy case for traveling. It's a beautiful camera, far more stylish than what I'm using now. My current camera, while lovely and full of tricks is not, it itself, a good subject for a photograph. But back in the day they made things beautiful for the sake of beauty, and it still shows. I doubt 75 years from now someone will pick up my camera and say "wow, this is gorgeous." But they mind find this one man and still marvel at the sophisticated design and elegant black and gold tones. Ah...they don't make 'em that way anymore. Sadly.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Photo of the day: Posing
The kitten nursery closed this week. But I'm staying on with a few others to continue to care for the remaining kittens until they go out to foster or up for adoption. That means the cute kitten photos will be running out soon, so I'm posting them while I can. The good news is that once I have more free time I can go out and start taking pictures of other things again.
The kitten nursery closed this week. But I'm staying on with a few others to continue to care for the remaining kittens until they go out to foster or up for adoption. That means the cute kitten photos will be running out soon, so I'm posting them while I can. The good news is that once I have more free time I can go out and start taking pictures of other things again.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Crazy
I read a news story today about animal abuse. It was a particularly cruel event (complete with photo) and it upset me greatly. You know how material people get when they read about child abuse? All "let me at them and I'll rip their heads off?" That's how I am with animals.
I've always loved them. Now, I suppose, I'm fanatical. I just cannot understand the viscousness required to hurt a defenseless animal. What kind of warper person thinks of, and decides to act on, the desire to hurt a cat or a dog?
Seriously makes me crazy. Makes me want to pick up a baseball bat and go after the motherfucker.
I read a news story today about animal abuse. It was a particularly cruel event (complete with photo) and it upset me greatly. You know how material people get when they read about child abuse? All "let me at them and I'll rip their heads off?" That's how I am with animals.
I've always loved them. Now, I suppose, I'm fanatical. I just cannot understand the viscousness required to hurt a defenseless animal. What kind of warper person thinks of, and decides to act on, the desire to hurt a cat or a dog?
Seriously makes me crazy. Makes me want to pick up a baseball bat and go after the motherfucker.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Scenes from Silver Creek: The Sentinel
Silver Creek’s answer to the New York Times was the Silver Creek Sentinel. Known to every kid in town as “the Senile,” it was a true mom-and-pop operation that was written, edited, formatted, printed, and delivered by Keezer and Edie Palman.
Keezer’s claim to journalistic experience was limited to writing a weekly “new recruit” column in the Ft. Dix newsletter while a medical clerk in WWII. Edie had a natural flair for gentle humor but a deplorable lack of attention to detail, which made each week’s issue a haven for unintentionally hilarious headlines and stories and howling misspellings. For example, after a rash of car break-ins the local police offered a reward for information. The Sentinel posted this news under the headline “$50 Reward for Car Thefts.” Which made it sound like a quick way to pick up $50. Notable typos included stories about the fundraising “carp wash,” a review of the high school’s production of “Our Twin,” and a fire at Birningham’s “Cry Cleaners.”
The heyday of juvenilely funny headlines came during the five years when Thomas Hooker was mayor. Every week there would be a story such as “Hooker Speaks to Kindergarten Class,” “Hooker Lands 20 lb. Trout,” and my ultimate favorite “Local Bishop Visits Hooker.” When you’re 12-years old, this is great stuff.
The rest of the paper was made up of such useless information as the attendees at a child’s birthday party, an out-of-town guest visiting some local citizen, or an interview with exciting luminaries like the postmaster and the head librarian. And, of course, each issue included must-read features such as the week’s menu in the high school cafeteria and a run-down of the local police blotter. The latter was where Edie really shined. I still have a clipping that reads: Mrs. Philip Carpenter of Blossom Road was mystified by finding one of her three garden gnomes repeated tipped over. Police identified the culprit as Lucy, the cocker spaniel of neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Robert Grover. Lucy has been sentenced to several days of “bad dog” and the withholding of milk bones.”
One of my favorite features was “Simon Sez,” which highlighted quotes by Simon Lang, the requisite odd duck and our own Yogi Berra. Simon was known for his incomprehensible homilies, nonsensical statements, and imponderable observations on life. Nearly every issue of the newspaper included at least one of Simon’s statements. “Sweaters don’t grow on trees,” “It takes a pigeon to see a statue from all sides,” “George Washington didn’t need a wife,” (which seemed highly unfair to Martha), and “If you don’t want the truth, don’t talk to the cat.” Many of these wonderfully weird comments became catch phrases in our family and to this day one of my brothers still says, “having pants don’t make you a man.”
When I was a little girl, every woman in town that received a mention in the Sentinel was referred to by her husband’s name. It was always Mrs. Louis Feldman or Mrs. Daniel Shaefer. Never Mary or Lorna. This always bothered me, but that was the way of the world back then. Married women had no identity other than that provided by their husband. Unmarried women were allowed to be Miss Jane Doe, but as soon and Jane married she magically lost her first name. Even if the woman were to be the center of the story, it would still be Mrs. Husband. “Mrs. Erwin Haefner Beaks Leg in Supermarket,” or “Mrs. Ralph Meeks to Visit Paris with Sister.”
Like most families in Silver Creek, our family received its share of column space. My siblings’ birthday parties, my sister winning a spelling bee, my father getting a promotion. All was considered public domain.
The one thing that always perplexed me was the inexplicable, invisible line drawn by the Palmans when it came to bad news. I could never understand why a wedding got a mention, but a much gossiped about divorce never did. Funeral notices were reverent and sanitized. A “lengthy illness” was always mentioned but anything tragic wasn’t. When Libby Rossman was killed in a skiing accident there was a brief news story with very few details, but her obit was full of phrases like “taken too soon,” and “unfortunate tragedy.” Even though we all talked about nothing but the grisly details, the Sentinel remained coyly silent throughout.
They were also careful not to name names of the guilty in the police blotter or short news pieces. When the Fowler twins were found to be responsible for setting fire to Mr. Meerson’s garage, the paper stayed mum about whodunit, despite the fact that we all knew. And Floyd Paulson’s penchant for public drunkenness was mentioned only as “a local tippler” although half the town had driven him home when found wandering around town.
Sadly the Sentinel closed down before I was out of high school. But it lives on in lined drawers all over town.
Silver Creek’s answer to the New York Times was the Silver Creek Sentinel. Known to every kid in town as “the Senile,” it was a true mom-and-pop operation that was written, edited, formatted, printed, and delivered by Keezer and Edie Palman.
Keezer’s claim to journalistic experience was limited to writing a weekly “new recruit” column in the Ft. Dix newsletter while a medical clerk in WWII. Edie had a natural flair for gentle humor but a deplorable lack of attention to detail, which made each week’s issue a haven for unintentionally hilarious headlines and stories and howling misspellings. For example, after a rash of car break-ins the local police offered a reward for information. The Sentinel posted this news under the headline “$50 Reward for Car Thefts.” Which made it sound like a quick way to pick up $50. Notable typos included stories about the fundraising “carp wash,” a review of the high school’s production of “Our Twin,” and a fire at Birningham’s “Cry Cleaners.”
The heyday of juvenilely funny headlines came during the five years when Thomas Hooker was mayor. Every week there would be a story such as “Hooker Speaks to Kindergarten Class,” “Hooker Lands 20 lb. Trout,” and my ultimate favorite “Local Bishop Visits Hooker.” When you’re 12-years old, this is great stuff.
The rest of the paper was made up of such useless information as the attendees at a child’s birthday party, an out-of-town guest visiting some local citizen, or an interview with exciting luminaries like the postmaster and the head librarian. And, of course, each issue included must-read features such as the week’s menu in the high school cafeteria and a run-down of the local police blotter. The latter was where Edie really shined. I still have a clipping that reads: Mrs. Philip Carpenter of Blossom Road was mystified by finding one of her three garden gnomes repeated tipped over. Police identified the culprit as Lucy, the cocker spaniel of neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Robert Grover. Lucy has been sentenced to several days of “bad dog” and the withholding of milk bones.”
One of my favorite features was “Simon Sez,” which highlighted quotes by Simon Lang, the requisite odd duck and our own Yogi Berra. Simon was known for his incomprehensible homilies, nonsensical statements, and imponderable observations on life. Nearly every issue of the newspaper included at least one of Simon’s statements. “Sweaters don’t grow on trees,” “It takes a pigeon to see a statue from all sides,” “George Washington didn’t need a wife,” (which seemed highly unfair to Martha), and “If you don’t want the truth, don’t talk to the cat.” Many of these wonderfully weird comments became catch phrases in our family and to this day one of my brothers still says, “having pants don’t make you a man.”
When I was a little girl, every woman in town that received a mention in the Sentinel was referred to by her husband’s name. It was always Mrs. Louis Feldman or Mrs. Daniel Shaefer. Never Mary or Lorna. This always bothered me, but that was the way of the world back then. Married women had no identity other than that provided by their husband. Unmarried women were allowed to be Miss Jane Doe, but as soon and Jane married she magically lost her first name. Even if the woman were to be the center of the story, it would still be Mrs. Husband. “Mrs. Erwin Haefner Beaks Leg in Supermarket,” or “Mrs. Ralph Meeks to Visit Paris with Sister.”
Like most families in Silver Creek, our family received its share of column space. My siblings’ birthday parties, my sister winning a spelling bee, my father getting a promotion. All was considered public domain.
The one thing that always perplexed me was the inexplicable, invisible line drawn by the Palmans when it came to bad news. I could never understand why a wedding got a mention, but a much gossiped about divorce never did. Funeral notices were reverent and sanitized. A “lengthy illness” was always mentioned but anything tragic wasn’t. When Libby Rossman was killed in a skiing accident there was a brief news story with very few details, but her obit was full of phrases like “taken too soon,” and “unfortunate tragedy.” Even though we all talked about nothing but the grisly details, the Sentinel remained coyly silent throughout.
They were also careful not to name names of the guilty in the police blotter or short news pieces. When the Fowler twins were found to be responsible for setting fire to Mr. Meerson’s garage, the paper stayed mum about whodunit, despite the fact that we all knew. And Floyd Paulson’s penchant for public drunkenness was mentioned only as “a local tippler” although half the town had driven him home when found wandering around town.
Sadly the Sentinel closed down before I was out of high school. But it lives on in lined drawers all over town.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
I Am Not a White Supremacist
But my TiVo thinks I am. I recorded a program about hate crimes a week or so ago and since then it's recorded programs about skinheads, the Klan, fringe white supremacist groups and racial crimes in prison. I just saw an ad on the National Geographic channel entitled "American Nazis" and something tells me I'll find that in my TiVo suggestions within the week.
In the midst of all this I received the latest "Teaching Tolerance" from the Southern Poverty Law Center; a fine organization that Husband and I support. Oh the irony.
I'm amused at the Tivo brain that takes one program and then stuffs my "Now Playing" box with any show about racist, homophobic bigots. It's almost like it thinks I want to commit a hate crime and it's giving me all my options. I had no idea there were so many programs about people beating the crap out of anyone they feel is inferior. Kinda makes me want to beat the crap out of someone I feel is inferior (the aforementioned racist, homophobic bigot). (And yes, I'm kidding.)
But my TiVo thinks I am. I recorded a program about hate crimes a week or so ago and since then it's recorded programs about skinheads, the Klan, fringe white supremacist groups and racial crimes in prison. I just saw an ad on the National Geographic channel entitled "American Nazis" and something tells me I'll find that in my TiVo suggestions within the week.
In the midst of all this I received the latest "Teaching Tolerance" from the Southern Poverty Law Center; a fine organization that Husband and I support. Oh the irony.
I'm amused at the Tivo brain that takes one program and then stuffs my "Now Playing" box with any show about racist, homophobic bigots. It's almost like it thinks I want to commit a hate crime and it's giving me all my options. I had no idea there were so many programs about people beating the crap out of anyone they feel is inferior. Kinda makes me want to beat the crap out of someone I feel is inferior (the aforementioned racist, homophobic bigot). (And yes, I'm kidding.)
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Photo of the day: Wrapped Up in Cute
The nursery will be closing next week, though I might stay on as part of the skeleton crew to take care of the ones still in quarantine. But until then, I'm still free to post amazingly cute kitten photos. This is from one of the kittens in residence earlier in the season. He's already gone home with someone. Yay!
The nursery will be closing next week, though I might stay on as part of the skeleton crew to take care of the ones still in quarantine. But until then, I'm still free to post amazingly cute kitten photos. This is from one of the kittens in residence earlier in the season. He's already gone home with someone. Yay!
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