not so sure...

... if the idea of being the 'rescue squad' for turtles has any merit, but I did stop 3 (three!) times when I was driving yesterday to help them get across the road. I always have some degree of anxiety when I slam on brakes, pull over and back up. Or inching along in reverse, while looking in the rear view mirror, hoping other vehicles will make the effort to avoid the slow moving amphibians. I am so oddly delighted at the idea of turtles making a come-back, becoming populous to the point that they are evident everywhere. As their little pea sized brains urge them into risky behavior of tediously crossing busy highways in order to find spouses.

Twice while I was driving south, I pulled over, and backed up to get to the place where the small shelled creatures were creeping across the asphalt. The third rescue involved easing on down to a place where I could safely make a U turn to go back and assist the turtle across the lanes, into the tall grass along the edge of the highway. All three of them had mossy stuff growing on their shells, making them appear very ancient, and were all about the same size: I could barely cover with one hand, so had to use both to pick up for relocating. I will always wonder if they immediately turn around and start inching towards the pavement I was so diligent to help them get across. If their heads are as hard as the houses they transport, I can just imagine how they think: 'I can do it myself', and slowly creeping back onto the road to provide passersby with another opportunity to smash them at 70 m.p.h.

In an effort to get myself back in motion, and head on down the road, I failed to take a photo as proof of the first of the three rescues. By the time I saw the second one, the process became so amusing, I felt the need to document my diligent rescues. I will not return home on the same path, as I really don't want to know if any or all of them came to an untimely end. Hopefully they were all headed home for a big satisfying meal their spouses had prepared for them to enjoy, rather than being the  menu for carnivorous vagrants looking tasty tidbits.

book review: "A Thousand Splendid Suns"...

.. by the Afghan author who also wrote "The Kite Runner", adapted as a screenplay and made into a movie. Khaled Hosseini was born in in Afghanistan, has since moved to the US, a prolific writer who has received quite a bit of literary acclaim. I found this in the library, with the recorded books, eleven discs that have taken me nearly two weeks to complete, since I have not been traveling to spend hours in my car listening.

The story is about two Afghani women, and their lives of hardship in a culture that does not place any value on being female. One of the women was born to a domestic worker, and raised by her single mother, who was shunned by the community where they lived. Her life was hard, but when the struggles of daily survival are all you know, you accept the circumstances as normal. When she went searching for her father, who was prosperous, with several wives and a number of children, her father was persuaded to marry her off. She was given to a man much her senior who lived in Kabul, owned a small shoe shop, made hand made footwear. She was unable to successfully bear children, and frequently physically abused, often treated comtemptously by her husband.

Her husband took a second wife, who soon had a baby girl, but being a female, was considered of little value. The second wife eventually had a second child, a son. The circumstances in Kabul as the Soviets invaded became dire, shortages of everything, constant armed conflict in the streets. Insurgents, backed by other countries, eventually took control of the country as the Soviet army withdrew, but there were still food and medical shortages, hardships in daily life. The difficulties these women faces in their efforts to survive, provide food for the family were unimaginable. The man they lived with was brutal beyond belief. He forced them to put the daughter in an orphanage, as he could not provide food for all of them.

The story was often heart-wrenching, sharing the daily struggles of life in a third world country. Related the efforts of these two women who started off as contentious, but soon became united in their common efforts to survive. I often had to pause the narration, finding the telling of their hardships often too difficult to hear. But finally finished the story, and would recommend it as a true eye-opener for anyone who would like to gain a better sense of life in a war-zone.

big fluffy....

...flower arrangement, in the silver urn that comes down off the pantry shelf once a year. Not sure how this annual donation got started, but it has been going on for quite some time. A local, loosely organized group of artists has a show and sale each year, when they all bring one piece of their work, either painted canvas, watercolor, or a three-dimensional design to contribute to the exhibition. For years the event has been located in the Fine Arts Hall of the University, but more recently in a space provided by the local library. I think the library is a good idea, as it is  more centrally located, easier to access, plenty of parking, and more likely to be enjoyed by the general public.

The Art Guild show opens today, with a reception tonight. My big cut flower arrangement has historically been placed on the carefully arranged table with numerous platters of finger foods: cracker and cheese plates, little pastry cups filled with taste-tempting delights, veggies and dip, tiny sandwiches consumed in one bite, sweets in various sizes and shapes. The fact that all this is free for anyone who shows up usually brings a crowd.

It is a pretty big deal, because there are lots of cash prizes awarded for various categories. When I was there putting my massive arrangement together, someone else was in the room looking at the works that had been hung for display. She started a conversation, and reported she was one of the judges. Something she has never done before, and was a bit anxious about the responsibility after looking at all the talent and skills she could see exhibited in the art displayed. I am thankful to not be making such difficult decisions, choosing the best ones. I took the time to walk through when I finished my floral contribution, and was quite impressed with the variety and quality of the work I saw. Lots of talent and skill represented. Everything from wood-working to fabric/textiles, though the largest number of contributions were two dimensional framed paintings, mostly oils/acrylic or watercolors.

The show will be up for two weeks, then each of the one hundred or so artists will return to reclaim their contribution if it has not been sold to an admirer. I will return to reclaim my container, and put it back on the shelf in the pantry for another year.

and another thing...

... about the Artist's Guild Show. I decided if all those other 'patrons of the arts' could provide awards in memory or honor of people in their lives, I should be doing that too. I kinda, sorta forgot that I had sent them a check weeks ago, to add another cash award when they start giving out money as the Most Best Award ever for people trying to produce good art. Some of those artists who put a piece of their work in the show each year really are people who support themselves with what they create on canvas, or water color paper, or pottery or wood-carving. It is evident from the quality of the products seen hanging in the displays or sitting on the columns showing three-dimensional work.

Other pieces of the art in the show clearly demonstrate that the maker is someone who has not received any training in the fine arts whatsoever. But they are people who love to build, create, put colors together and see what happens. Even those who have no skill, are obviously amateurs, can do amazing things with the tools they have to work with, assembling and designing, having great fun making art.

The email went out to all the members of the guild with guidelines about how to get your entry ready for the show, accompanied by the form you had to complete, about two months ago. I don't paint or create, but I decided I can and should support the arts and artists, provide a little award to encourage someone who is imaginative and creative. The Guild got a check for one hundred dollars, to use at the discretion of the people who were putting the effort into preparing for the show. I don''t know any thing more than that: the part where I put the check in the envelope and put it in the mail for them to give away.

What I do know: the check was a donation to a non-profit, so I can take it off  my income tax. It was designed to be an Award from the F.Family Fun Fund. Well, I thought it was amusing....

drivin' in the rain...

...makes me think of a line in a country song about 'cryin' in the rain', but that was not me being weepy when I made a quick trip to Decatur overnight.  My wipers slapped back and forth the entire drive to Atlanta. No mishaps, but more time consuming than normal due to steady rain and slower speeds.

My cuzzin' has had grandchildren visiting for about a month, entertaining little guys who are just a busy as  you would expect a four and a seven year old to be. Moving from one activity to the next with lightening speed, much too fast for the adults to keep up. I often share my theory of the necessity for two adults per child issued for every household, a necessity for adults to maintain sanity, as well as stay ahead of the demands of feeding and laundry of small animals. I discovered this on the day I brought home child #2: it is exhausting work, being a mom. Or grandmother or caregiver to little people.

This guys have a remarkable history: Parents have lived in Moscow in Russia, Beijing in China, and Delhi in India.  Recently relocated to Singapore in the Pacific. He is a news reporter'/journalist and their mom is a writer, has published a couple of books. The family, flying in and out, has been using Decatur as a home base for several weeks, returning to Singapore next week.

Those little guys are really smart. The older one sat and read me a book of riddles, when I asked him to show me how well he reads. My job was to act dumb, and his job was to prove how easily a seven year old can outwit an adult. Reminding me of that television show based on the query: Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader? The riddles were all related to farm yard inhabitants, suitable for small children, so nothing off color. Some of the humor, a play on words, subtle puns might have been too advanced for the average second grader, but he was well above that. I am guessing the first time he read the book, someone assisted him in deciphering the meaning of the jokes he could not find humorous. There was great hilarity when I was continually stumped by the questions.  Out of about thirty riddles, I might have gotten five, as I proceeded to give the appearance of being exceptionally simple-minded.

The boys had been with their dad to a museum, and came home with 'art work' things they had drawn, colored. The younger was showing his illustration of a person. Demonstrating remarkable observation skills and insight for someone his age. Most four-year-olds do not have the discernment to add all the body parts this guy drew - it was obviously the work of a young child, but one who has much awareness of himself and others: legs, arms, hands, feet, fingers, toes, all the components of a human face and head.

I was there for a couple of hours, planning to leave before the family started the process of winding down for the day. I remember the parts of child raising where they get tired and cranky as the day progresses, demanding and insistent. Unhappy with the food they are offered, or unwilling to get in the bath, brush teeth, apply nightwear - so tired from their busy-ness they don't have control and tend to fall apart as the day comes to a close. I deliberately avoided that part, left before the witching hour. And will enjoy remembering the time I spent with bouncy, happy, enthusiastic little people, intensely interested in their world.

It also rained on me almost all the way back home this morning. Making the trip a bit more time consuming that is normally the case, due to cautious reduction in speed. I was certainly happy to be headed south, when I observed a complicated multi-vehicle wreck on the northbound lanes near the Atlanta stadium. Traffic was backed up for miles and miles with thousands of commuters fuming, knowing they would be late for work headed into the downtown metro area.  Other than slippery wet roads, an uneventful trip...

when that guy...

... alternately known as The Man Who Lives Here was talking to me recently, I deliberately did not respond in the conversation. I don't recall what the subject was, or what we were discussing, but it seemed to me like he was just doing the thing females so often will do. We don't really want any one to snatch that issue up as we place it on the table, just need to vent or share about some personal conundrum. You just need to talk it out. Not really needing advice, or for someone to grapple with the problem, wrest it away from the owner and manhandle enough to change an outcome. Just open it up, so it does not fester like an infected wound.

He likely thought I was not listening, or giving him my full attention. But in reality, I decided I should practice the fine and difficult art of keeping my mouth shut. It is profoundly apparent to me after our many years together that he does not want advice. Perhaps he is mellowing as he ages and becoming that person who feels the need to put it out there, knowing there is more room outside than in? Or he is attempting to generate small talk, make conversation in this place of hours-long gaps in interaction?

It is so hard to shut my trap. I do have lots of opinions and more than willing to share with all interested parties, or anyone who will slow down enough to lend an ear. I conclude he does not want advice- mine or anyone else's. In the future I will try my best not to offer opinions. He has heard medical advice over the years that has been blatantly disregarded, resulting in a multiplicity of compounding, disabling problems. All those years of going to appointments, and paying well- educated professionals to provide the benefit of their wisdom and experience has been for nought. There is no reason to expect any alteration on the path, no veering off into sound judgment or changes in a lifetime off poor choices.

I will try to keep my opinions to myself. I often tell people in the workplace when they approach with questions that if I don't know the answer, I will be happy to make something up. I hope most of them realize my response is not serious, but merely put forth for their amusement. But in this day and age of blatant dishonesty spouted forth as representing truth, I guess I need to be a bit more discerning in who might be listening. Cautiously careful to not offer random responses of invented answers, to those who might have been born without a sense of humor. Hard to believe there are people in the world who could have been birthed lacking such a vital part - but it is true!

where ...

... did it go? The summer is speeding by. Virtually over, in fact, for kids who will start back to school next week. In those early years of education - that point when children are sponges, and will readily absorb anything they are exposed to (good or bad! positive or otherwise!), they can hardly wait for that first day: new clothes, new shoes, new supplies. They give the appearance of having all the time in the world - their entire lives of many decades spread out before them like a vast field of wildflowers. Awaiting their approach, ready to be explored with voracious appetites of the young.

Then you look back and think: Whaaat? Where did it go?? There are some school systems, like the ones in Virginia bound by legislature, required to postpone the first day until Tuesday after Labor Day in early September. Other publicly funded schools begin classes in early August, having built in a number of days for teachers to prepare grades, breaks in the fall and spring, plenteous holidays at semester end. Most of the grade schools in this area are gearing up for students to return next week, various county and private facilities attempting to keep to the same calendar for simplicity of programming and scheduled time off.

I am really thankful that is not me. Then I see people who have put in their many years as educators in the classroom, now enjoying their retirement. Reaping the benefits of twenty or thirty years of wrangling reluctant students, getting a steady income, insurance coverage, without the prospect of facing another year of obdurate children. Making me think: If I had put in my time, when I got that degree/certification years ago, that could be me! Knowing those friends and acquaintances are enjoying the thought of Not going back into the halls of education with the freedom to sleep late, drink a leisurely cuppa, take a walk, read all day, make lunch plans at odd hours, travel on a whim.

But then I realize that is me! Sadly, without that nice retirement package of steady income (that can be enhanced with additional schooling/degrees) and secure health coverage for life. Even so, I do have the time to do all those other things, just have to be willing to schedule it around my little jobette. Which is really remarkably flexible, as I can ask for time off when needed, and enjoy travels. I've been surprised the past couple of days, when I would sleep much later than expected. No need to set an alarm, no urgent business in need of attention, plenty of time to putter around doing laundry, sorting the continuous clutter than accumulates in piles every where. (Demonstrating my philosophy of house work that is basically 'tidy up the clutter into neater piles to make it appear to be organized'.)

There is still yard work to be done, things I planned to accomplish today - until I looked out the window as the frog-strangler rains started. The frequent thunderstorms usually occur later in the day, giving time to dig, weed, prune in the morning hours. But with standing water from the recent downpour, not likely any of that will occur today. Hot summer days, and the green that results from plentiful rainfall will  continue here, giving me ample time to get the work done...  finding the Motivation - that's another story entirely!