My Two-Page "Rashomon" Paper

Akira Kurosawa’s Editing, Texture, Framing and Sound in “Rashomon”

After watching “Rashomon” in class, doing more research on the movie and Kurosawa via the Internet, and watching the Criterion Collection DVD at home; I first have to say that I am so happy to have had the chance to “totally geek out” over this two-page paper. Having said that, here are my thoughts about Kurosawa’s editing, texture, framing, and sound in “Rashomon”:

EDITING

Stanley Kaufman notes in “The Impact of Rashomon” that there are 407 separate shots in the movie. This is recognized as being a large number of shots for a movie during this time period. During the Woodcutter’s walk most of the shots are edited together so seamlessly that the audience is unaware that they are watching so many shots edited together.

Kurosawa doesn’t just edit seamlessly, though. He uses the editing process to highlight the action and move the plot. He sets the pace and then changes it by combining long shots with quick edits. During the fight scenes the shots are quick. When the lady is sitting alone the shot is static. Each choice sets the tone for each scene and carries the audience along as the stories are told.

For the most part Kurosawa uses straight cuts, but he also uses wipes and dissolves. The wipes are used to dramatically switch between the stories and the person testifying in the courtyard. By using a wipe the audience is “shocked” back into the courtyard and each character’s personal approach to their testimony and vice versa. A strong delineation is created allowing the audience to recognize that each account is the story of the person who is testifying. It is only at the end that Kurosawa uses dissolves. After the Commoner has taken the baby’s clothes and the Priest and Woodcutter are left with the baby, there is a long shot that dissolves into a medium shot which dissolves into a tighter two-shot. This editing choice eases the audience into the exchange between the Priest and Woodcutter and gently brings all parties to the point of resolution and hope at the end of the film. It is a visual “sigh of relief.”

TEXTURE

There are three distinct settings in “Rashomon” that are used very well to distinguish the mood of the film. Each setting is dramatically different.

Rashomon Temple is dark, devastated, and drenched surrounded by mud. It sets the tone of a world falling apart where hope is lost and provides the perfect setting for the emotional climate of the characters. I also found it unsettling that the Commoner took pieces of the temple to start a fire, and I believe that this is the desired effect. Even a sacred place is open for desecration during time of great upheaval. The temple has been burned and almost totally destroyed, yet it provides a bit of shelter and safety for the three characters to share their thoughts and experiences. It is literally a haven in the storm.

The woods are illuminated by sunlight through the trees causing a sense of reality and visual interest. At times the shadows are hard, and at times the shadows are soft. Each choice plays to the mood of the scene. “Rashomon” is widely noted as the first time (or one of the first times depending on who’s talking about the film) that a camera was pointed directly at the sun. This new experience for the film world and audiences added to the reality of the woodland setting. It was just like walking through the woods and looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. The sunlight even acts as a spotlight during some of the stories depicting the fight scenes and rape. It stands in contrast to the temple and the courtyard and seems to present a truthful environment, yet as we discover there is no truth. This is a purposeful choice by Kurosawa to further his message about truth in life. He creates a false sense of reality which supports his challenge to the audience about their beliefs about honesty and lies.

The courtyard is stark and brightly lit with only the witness in an area of shadow as they testify. It’s bright, white wall and stone background create a matter-of-fact, no nonsense atmosphere that is static and hard. It creates the serious nature of a courtroom where the truth is supposed to be discovered.

The use of these dramatically different settings creates visual interest moving the story of the stories along. They create known atmospheres, both physically and emotionally, which allows the audience benchmarks within the film; a sort of road map to watching the film, if you will.

I’d also like to note that the actors and their costumes also add texture to the film. Each choice strengthens the story line. There is contrast between the Samurai and his Wife with the Woodcutter, the Priest, the Bandit, the Commoner, the Medium and the Police Officer. Each has a different station in life as told through their costumes and their acting. It all adds to the texture of the film.

FRAMING

The framing or composition of the shots in “Rashomon” is used to create interest, to bring the audience closer, to move the audience back, to create a sense of motion and chaos, to heighten emotion, and to relax. It is all done to support the action of the film. Kurosawa said during an interview for a documentary about Kazuo Miyagawa that the camera was an actor in “Rashomon” because there is so little dialogue that the camera’s job is to tell the story much like a silent film.

One of the observations I made while watching the movie in class was that it reminded me of silent movies. I was delighted to have my observations confirmed while I did more research about Kurosawa and “Rashomon.” I found out that Kurosawa loved silent movies and used “Rashomon” to incorporate his love and his technique to bring back and fine tune silent film elements. I especially noticed it during the extended close-ups.

The effect of all the different camera angles and shot compositions edited together during the walk creates the impression of continuous motion that brings the audience deep into the woods with the Woodcutter as he first discovers the lady’s hat, the samurai’s cap, and the body. By combining long shots that change into close-ups during the walk what could have been a boring walk is transformed into a beautiful, yet long walk into an unknown area deep in the woods where the unexpected and tragic is acted out. We are transported to a different world allowing the audience to suspend their disbelief and go with the Woodcutter and all others on their journeys.

It is also interesting to note that what is not shown is just as important as what is shown. The murder and rape are not shown, yet they are the crimes that are being talked about. This lends itself to the film by showing that each person is telling their truth from their perspective motivated by their desires. Kurosawa’s message regarding the subjectivity of truth is strengthened through this framing choice.

The use of diagonals, triangles, and over-the-shoulder shots also supports the story and the visual interest and depth of shot in this film. I was struck by the strong diagonal blocking during the exchanges between the Bandit, the Samurai, and the Wife. It was exhilarating. Diagonals are always strong and lead the eye to a point of focus. These diagonal shots were many times from an over-the-shoulder point-of-view, which also heightened the depth of the shot. The triangular blocking during the exchanges between these three same characters highlights the triangle that they are a part of; the Bandit wants the Wife. The over-the-shoulder shots sometimes reminded me of an angel and a devil sitting on the shoulders of a character. I don’t believe this was intentional, nor were the other characters always on each shoulder; but it did add a sense of “what do those people think of this testimony” during the court scenes.

Through “Rashomon” Kurosawa does a masterful job of using tighter shots to bring the audience into the action purposefully and of using long shots to pull the audience out of the action and ease the tension purposefully. The framing is not always static like in the courtyard scenes where the camera takes on the judge’s point-of-view. The camera moves, pans, tilts, and does almost 360 degree turns which add to the constant movement and making that movement interesting during the Woodman’s walk for instance. Kurosawa used every frame of this film to move his story forward and support his message.

SOUND

Just like the camera in the film, the sound could almost be considered a separate character. It is more than just background music or ambience to fill the silence; it helps to create the mood of each scene. In fact, the absence of sound also creates tension and directs focus during some scenes.

Because there is so little dialogue in “Rashomon” just like silent films, the action and music during scenes tells the story. “Kurosawa felt that sound cinema multiplies the complexity of a film: ‘Cinematic sound is never merely accompaniment, never merely what the sound machine caught while you took the scene. Real sound does not merely add to the images, it multiplies it.’” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon_(film)).

Beginning with the sound of the torrential rain during the opening credits and with the first scenes of “Rashomon”, it becomes apparent that sound will play an important role in this film. The rain is oppressive and seems inescapable. It is ever present and adds to the depressing nature of the scene between the Priest, the Woodcutter and the Commoner.

The music while the Woodcutter walks changes tempo and has strong drum beats that add to the changing moods during his walk. When he discovers each item, the music stops adding tension. This can be said of the entire movie. With the changing tempos and signature pieces moods are accentuated and views are shaped. The Samurai and his Wife have a signature piece when they are walking together, and this creates a sense of character and setting.

The use of Bolero-type music as a signature piece for the Wife has been criticized by some, but I found it beautiful and haunting. On the Criterion website on the “Akira Kurosawa on Rashomon” page, the following is written:

“As I was writing the script, I heard the rhythms of a bolero in my head over the episode of the woman’s side of the story. I asked Hayasaka to write a bolero kind of music for the scene. When we came to the dubbing of that scene, Hayasaka sat down next to me and said, “I’ll try it with the music.” In his face I saw uneasiness and anticipation. My own nervousness and expectancy gave me a painful sensation in my chest. The screen lit up with the beginning of the scene, and the strains of the bolero music softly counted out the rhythm. As the scene progressed, the music rose, but the image and the sound failed to coincide and seemed to be at odds with each other. “Damn it,” I thought. The multiplication of sound and image that I had calculated in my head had failed, it seemed. It was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

We kept going. The bolero music rose yet again, and suddenly picture and sound fell into perfect unison. The mood created was positively eerie. I felt an icy chill run down my spine, and unwittingly I turned to Hayasaka. He was looking at me. His face was pale, and I saw that he was shuddering with the same eerie emotion I felt. From that point on, sound and image proceeded with incredible speed to surpass even the calculations I had made in my head. The effect was strange and overwhelming.” ( http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/196-akira-kurosawa-on-rashomon )

Reading Kurosawa’s account of how the bolero rhythms and Bolero-type music became a part of the film is enough for me. I love to hear about or read about “behind the scenes” events that influenced an artist’s creative process. I loved hearing the Wife’s music and felt even more connected to the character and the story. Critics be damned; it worked for me.

The strength of the sound choices is not only in the music and rain, though. The sound of the swords striking each other, the ground and stump are all very strong and multiply the emotional experiences. When the rain stops at the end of the movie, it is like a curse has been lifted. The welcome silence, again, adds to the denouement of hope restored.

There is more that can be written about the editing, the texture, the framing and the sound of “Rashomon”, but for now I will leave you with two vocabulary words that I learned as a result of my research; leitmotif and mise-en-scene. As you know, “A leitmotif is a melodic phrase that accompanies the reappearance of a person or situation (as in Wagner's operas).” ( http://www.thefreedictionary.com/leitmotif ) “Mise-en-scène is a French term and originates in the theater. It means, literally, "put in the scene." For film, it has a broader meaning, and refers to almost everything that goes into the composition of the shot, including the composition itself: framing, movement of the camera and characters, lighting, set design and general visual environment, even sound as it helps elaborate the composition. Mise-en-scène can be defined as the articulation of cinematic space, and it is precisely space that it is about.” ( http://userpages.umbc.edu/~landon/Local_Information_Files/Mise-en-Scene.htm ) “Rashomon” is often mentioned when people give examples of both words.

:(

:( ---> I am sad today. I have heard serious news and am alone thinking about it.

State of the Union

This semester in school I decided to take the one course that got me into school again; Digital Video Editing. Learning Final Cut Pro has been on my "To-Do List" for quite a while. I was very happy to see that it was offered during the Spring Semester.

Back in May of 2003 a log house was moved in the community that I worked in. I had heard about the plans to move it two years prior and had started making inquiries back then about the possibility of taping it when it happened. So in reality, I started planning and working on this project back in 2001. It's been a decade. Wow.

In any case, I got permission and organized the shoots and post-production plans. There were many days of shooting to be organized because I thought it would be interesting to get all the background footage about how a house is moved and all the interviews about why the move was important. The day of the move, May 3, 2003, would be the most intensive day of shooting, and I organized shot lists for five camera operators on that day. It was a thrilling and trying experience, but I did it.

After all the shooting was done, all my post-production people told me that they were too busy to help. I was cut off at the knees and had no support from my supervisor who had guaranteed that this would be a departmental project that I would organize. It was my first digital project, and I had been relying on other co-workers who were more experienced than I was to make this project successful. I floundered.

On November 3, 2003, I was called to a meeting with a few other co-workers where we were told that we were being laid off on December 3, 2003. We were told that we could use the month to finish up any projects we had going, but that we didn't have to. I decided to finish up the Log House Project, but when I showed up at work to do just that; I was told to go home and that I wasn't needed. I asked if I could come in and work on it as an Access User and was told that Access Users didn't have access to the digital editing systems. I was dumb-founded.

Now this is where Life took over. You see, my children were ill. My family needed my full attention, so I dove in and did what I could to insure that they would recover from their illnesses and left all my projects and other dreams behind. I had a Severance Package that included company-paid-for Health Insurance for eighteen months. I focused on my family so much that I almost lost myself in the process, but the upside was that my children did recover; so I was a happy, exhausted mom.

Fast-forward to present day and you find me with all or most of the original footage from the Log House shoot that I now own the copyrights to. I also own the copyrights to a few other prime pieces of footage as a result of my forethought. You see, I knew that the tapes would be recycled because nobody that I worked with would recognize the historical importance of what I had on tape. I've been informed that a copyright attorney has stated that after five years, if the company has made no attempt to recover the tapes that they belong to me along with the copyrights. I really was preserving these tapes for history because I just couldn't let the tapes be callously recycled resulting in losing all that information and hard work. It was an "Executive Decision" that I put into place as soon as I started getting wind of "what was going on at work."

I packed up the most important tapes before I was told that I would be laid off. I took those tapes to my home for safe keeping just in case I was let go. I wish I had included the Rahm Emanuel tapes, but at least I included the Barack Obama tapes along with Karl Malden and Nicholas Evans. I also included all six episodes of "High School Today", an educational talk show featuring students from the four area high schools that we served that I produced and helped students create using their own criteria. I included other projects that I was proud of and/or had some sentimental attachment to including the Log House Tapes where BB was Head Cameraman.

Have you ever worked at a job where people bitch and moan about the people they work with and serve producing an ugly arrogance and egotism that is counter-productive? Have you ever been the brunt of unkind jokes during a departmental meeting that originate with your supervisor? Have you ever sat in a departmental meeting where your supervisor's supervisor makes crass sexist remarks about objectifying women and there are women at the meeting? Have you ever been blamed for not performing your job by your supervisor when that same supervisor made it impossible for you to perform your job? Have you ever been set up to fail by your supervisor? I have.

The environment that I left was unhealthy to say the least. It still hurt like hell, though.

So now a decade later with a reputation that is in the garbage, I am finally going to gain the skills to do what I always wanted to do and got side-tracked from; finish the Log House documentary. I'm not confident in all of my skills, but I am confident that I can learn and improve. My writing has improved and so has my "eye" for what makes a film work. I am ruthless when it comes to editing and pacing. I am confident that I can do what I need to do. I know that I have more than enough footage to work with and even more ideas on how to put it all together. I know that I am not happy with the lighting on some of the shots. I know that it will have to do. I know a lot about this piece. I also know that once it is finished that I will donate a copy of the finished product and selected raw footage to the community's historical society that now owns and operates the Log House Living Museum. I will also donate copies of the finished piece to the local school districts for their use should they decide to incorporate it into their curriculum.

I am happy to be in Digital Video Editing with the instructor that I have. He is straight-forward, business-like, and knowledgeable from my first impression. The necessary equipment is at the school so that I can digitize all my footage. I will be "living" at school again. It will be interesting to see how I do this given my new schedule, but I'm increasingly flexible and consider this a part of "Unionizing" myself.

You see, because I wanted to focus so intently on Digital Editing this semester, I decided to only sign up to be a part-time student this semester. This still meant that I needed three more credit hours to fill my schedule. I looked through the catalogue and discovered that Yoga and T'ai Chi Chih fit - FINALLY! I have to admit that I thought that I was signing up for T'ai Chi Ch'uan, but I do have a book on T'ai Chi Ch'uan; and the T'ai Chi Chih class is quite energizing and enlightening. It will do.

I have long held the belief that I am not employable because of my age, weight and general unhealthy appearance. I recognized that I needed to get in shape physically, mentally and spiritually. I have a long and varied history with various spiritual practices and have yearned to take yoga and T'ai Chi for years hoping that they would help me incorporate Balance into my life. My desire to do some form of physical mediation and strengthening comes from my knowledge that when I dance I feel the closest to God.

Dance is what lifts me to the highest heights. I once had someone tell me that I looked as though I was on a Spiritual High when I danced. I was grateful that the person recognized it. I am saddened that I have let my body go and had so many broken bones because it inhibits my ability to dance the way I picture moving in my mind.

Through yoga, T'ai Chi Chih, other exercises and a healthier diet I hope to rediscover me again. I hope to find the Balance that I seek. I hope to become employable. I hope to be a healthier person on all fronts. I know that I will be a better role model and more capable of taking on the challenges that await me. I'm doing this for myself and by doing it for myself I will show my children and grandchildren that it's never too late to become the person you are meant to become, not is it too early. I an all about "unionizing" my family through Balance, Compassion, and Courage. I don't really think they know what they're in for, nor do I have all the answers at this time or know where this path will take me; I'm just confident that The State of the Union will improve the more I focus on mastering the skills that I am learning this semester in school. I'm already witnessing it and benefiting from my new found determination and understanding. I'm enjoying the challenge and the "good pain"; I feel alive again.

Great Day - Short Report

I want to watch "Perry Mason" in 4 minutes, so this is going to be short.

I had a great day today. I played with the puppies again. After that I went to a friend's home where I ate Chinese food, did my Yoga homework, and knitted for about an hour and a half. From my friend's home, I went straight to school. I did not cry in Yoga because I had done my reading and answered many questions correctly, and my abilities improved to the point where I could actually do Downward Facing Dog, touch my toes, and even more. From Yoga I went to T'ai Chi Chih and worked through a few mental blocks and started letting the movements happen. After school I came home, of course, and had a bit of Brie and Jarlsberg cheeses with Veggie Crackers and Chocolate Soy Milk while blogging.

That's it, Folks. Perry is calling me.

The Basics

So here I sit at the computer figuring out how long I can comfortably sit here before my touche, knee and leg say, "ENOUGH!" I'm figuring that it won't be very long, so here's the net/net of my day:

1. Worked out again. I have that wonderful "good/bad pain" thing going on. I pushed a bit and didn't spend as much time in the whirlpool, sauna, and steam room as I would've liked. Still, more good pain than bad pain. Wondering if I should workout tomorrow because I have yoga and T'ai Chi Chih tomorrow night. Will decide in the am, I suppose.

2. Dinner is in the oven. BB and I have had an appetizer. Yum.

3. I ate a banana, a pear, almonds, brie cheese, Jarlsberg cheese, and garlic herb bread sticks today. I drank a good amount of water and a little bit of coffee.

4. Playing with the puppy was fun. Her brother has finally warmed up to me. Her older sister has always been a sweetheart. I'm enjoying these visits very much.

5. Helping my friend later in the afternoon had a few twists and turns, but we figured it all out. It was a good day. I think I've proven myself there, too.

6. I did a bit of homework, but have a bunch more to do; so I'm going to get to it.

7. Talked to GL. It was a nice, business-like talk. I wasn't available to help her out tomorrow, but she got help from someone else. Yippee!

8. Will hopefully see a friend on her day off tomorrow. Will we work out or will we go to "shopping" or both? Only The Shadow Knows for Sure.

That's it, Folks. A basic report. I'm still in that workout after-glow with that tinge of "OH MY GOSH! What have I done." --- just a tinge. This is a good thing, right?

Oh, and had a wonderful conversation with a woman in the locker room at the gym. It was nice.

OK, take care and sweet dreams.

Up, Down and All Around

Well technically I missed Monday, but here's the post anyway.

It's been another roller coaster day - Up, Down and All Around.

Got mad at my kids and let them know it. It had to be done, and I also need to do a bit of improving.

Went to play with a puppy. Puppy liked playing Fetch in the snow.

Went to first Digital Editing class and watched "Rashomon." Instructor is gorgeous and has a beautiful voice. He's straight-forward and to the point. I like him.

Went to Yoga and cried. I've destroyed my body over the past 46 years. My disappointment in myself was so great that the tears just streamed down my cheeks. I've got a lot of work to do. Lots of tension and blocks. I thought I was in bad shape, but this is devastating. Made it through class, though. I'll be back there on Wednesday. It can't get worse than this, can it.

Went to DAS Group and bitched. It's OK with the group if I arrive a half hour late, so I'll keep going; but the group dynamic has changed. I don't know what good this is going to do for me any more.

Discovered a Walmart with an amazing food section with very, very reasonable prices and stocked up on things like Flax Seeds, Wheat Germ, Almond Milk, Chocolate Soy Milk, String Cheese, FRESH Fruits and Veggies, Organic Apple Juice, Brie and Jarlsberg Cheeses, and frozen Salmon and Cod Fillets (1 pound for under $4). My new approach is to buy all the good food that I want in moderate portions. No ice cream. No silly stuff. Yummy fresh, wholesome food. Got Cauliflower to puree and put in recipes for the grandgirls (and all of us, too).

Used our food stamps for the first time. I was a Food Stamp Virgin. Man, was I annoying the cashier. The Walmart was in an urban area where lots of people use Food Stamps, so it was very obvious that I was a "newbie." Well, that trauma is over with, and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have good food in the house.

I've been so worried about money that my eating habits were very bad. I was skipping a lot of meals and eating comfort food when I did eat. It's time to rock and roll with the good food. I'm stoked.

Unloaded all the groceries from the car to the stairs by myself. BB must've heard me because he carried the majority of the groceries upstairs. We unloaded the groceries together and settled our differences. We laughed and hugged. Looking forward to someday doing the same with GL, but she and I handle our differences differently, so there will be a bit of a wait in that area.

I had Jarlsberg and Brie cheeses with Baked Veggie and Wheat Crackers after I ate the most amazing pear. This was the end of my supper. I started out with some almonds, dried fruit and Craisins. Yum, yum, yum. Oh yes! This is how I like to eat.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to work out either with my friend or with BB. After that I'll play with the puppy; and then, I'll groom a few horses. After that I'll go help a friend. Tomorrow night I'll be home.

Wednesday will be another morning workout either with a friend or with BB, playing with a puppy, helping my friend again, Yoga and T'ai Chi Chih, maybe back to the Walmart, and home.

Thursday will be playtime with the grandgirls, play time with a puppy, playtime with the grandgirls, helping a friend and home. This time I'll remember to watch "The Big Bang Theory" (my favorite show).

Friday will be ..... play with puppy and help friend and fill in the other areas.

Saturday will be morning workout and ???? until I help a friend.

Sunday will be Sunday School Teaching for the first time and ????

Somewhere in there I've got to practice my Yoga and T'ai Chi Chih, read a bunch of chapters and write a paper for Digital Editing.

That's about it. Up, Down and All Around.

Sunday Cleaning

It is 9:34am. In less than an hour, I have scrubbed my kitchen, fed Ziggy and Sammy, made coffee, and am now sitting down to write a bit. I've gotten into the habit of cleaning when I first wake up on Sunday mornings. I don't know how this happened. I'm driven on Sunday mornings to start cleaning. It's really strange especially considering how much I detest housework. The whole euphemism of "creating beauty" does help, but my focus on Sunday mornings is unearthly; I feel possessed.

Of course this is the last Sunday that I will do this because next week I become a Childcare Provider and Sunday School Teacher starting at 9:15 every Sunday morning. Whoa. How did that happen?

Obviously I applied for the job and got it, but what was it that made me go for this one? Was it the location? Was it the thought that it might be a nice environment to work in? Was it my underlying desire to be as much like my grandmas as possible?

Sometimes I chuckle to myself when I think of my grandparents up in Heaven still working to convert me to Christianity. I must still frustrate them, but this latest move must be seen as "one step closer."

The truth is that while I can no longer call myself a Christian, I do have a deep love and respect for all the better qualities the religion promotes. While I respect other religions, I was raised as a Christian child and know more about the Christian faith than any other faith. I still remember the clean feeling that I used to feel on Sundays after Sunday School and Church. It was a physical and emotional sensation that I relished. It was very similar to working out at the gym. It made me happy.

Besides, my grandparent led the pack of Christians that I've known throughout the years; so as a result, I have very fond memories of how I learned about Jesus and God. As I have said before, "They taught through example." What this means to me is that they embodied all the finer teachings of the Christian faith; they walked the walk.

So next Sunday I become a Sunday School teacher. How can a Non-Christian teach Bible stories to three and four year olds? The answer is simple: I respect each person's right to raise their children in the faith of their choice and had great role models to follow. One of my grandmas was a bona fide Sunday School Teacher. One of my grandfathers was very active in his Men's Bible Study Group. All of my grandparents taught Christian values every day of their lives, as far as I know.

I was going to write about Bode Miller, the Packers, and the Bears; but I think I'll stop now. BB is taking the first shower in our new shower in a pristine bathroom. It's good to stop with a warm fuzzy today.

2 Minutes 2 Midnight

2 Posts 2 Day - 'cause I said I would.

All I really have to say is, "Awesome Day!" Well OK, so I have a bit more to say.

The workmen finished all the repairs in about two hours. Yippee! We get to shower tomorrow! Still think the workmen were brilliant.

I went and worked out for the first time in ages and had a great time with my friend. She walked for an hour, and I walked for 45 minutes. We headed to the pool where she swam, and I sat in the whirlpool and sauna with a bit of a swim in-between. Still not done, we headed to the steam room. I can't tell you how high the "endolphins" were jumping, but I was absolutely giddy and even a bit light headed. AGAIN! The good news is that I can do it again because the health club representative gave me a pass for a week. I'll be meeting up with my friend on Tuesday and may go again before that. It felt so good.

I have to thank BB for insisting that I go to the gym with my friend. I was going to stay home and clean the house, but he said that he would clean it alone; so that, I could go to the gym. Tusen Takk, BB! This thing you did was very good; very, very good. Happy to report that he did clean while I was gone, too! How great is that. Now the house is ready for Monday's visit. BB made me very happy today.

Had a great time at a friend's house this evening. I was running a bit late, and so was she; so it all worked out beautifully. I'm really enjoying these Saturday nights.

That gets me to the end of my day. It is time for bed. Tomorrow is the big match-up between the Bears and Packers. I'll be watching and probably won't be seriously cheering for either team. By all rights, I should cheer for the Bears considering where I live and who my family and friends will be cheering for; but I'm still stuck on the Oilers from way back when and like annoying people with my determination to stay stuck. Then again, I do like Devin Hester. The game should be most enjoyable because I really don't care who wins and will be watching the "ballet" play out on the field. I love "sports ballets."

So that's it, Folks. Hope you had a wonderful day, too. Oh, and just for the record; my favorite flavor of ice cream is Phish Food by Ben and Jerry. Sweet dreams!

Oops, AGAIN!

I completely forgot to post yesterday. Oops.

Since I owe two posts, this one will be short. Very short because I have to get ready to go to the health club!

Yesterday was very busy with the workmen doing a fantastic job of doing their best to finish up the repairs to my home. Unfortunately they didn't finish and are headed over here as I type. They're wonderful workers who have handled every surprise head-on. If you've never done home repairs on a home built in the 1920s, then you're a lucky, lucky soul. No matter where you turn something else crops up that is unexpected and adds time and tribulation to the task. These guys are dogged and determined to do a wonderful job. I can't praise them enough.

I have to get ready, so I will post later tonight. It's another busy day and night for me.

Take care and continued good health and happiness!

T'was the Day After Classes Began

And all through the house
Only this creature was stirring
Trying not to grouse

The radio alarm was playing
The sky still shown darkly
The day's events seemed dismaying
Still trying not to be snarky

OK, so classes last night were pretty good. Not as scary as I thought they would be. Yoga was all peace and love. We didn't start doing any movements. T'ai Chi Chih (pronounced: Tie Chee Cha) was filled with movement and harder than I expected. My right knee took a beating, but I think it may help in the long run. At least I'm hoping it will.

I didn't post because I was just too tired and grouchy last night. It was a good night to have a late dinner, watch some "Perry Mason", turn off the TV, and get a good night's rest.

I'm grouchy because I've gone and done it again; I've let someone pressure me into doing something that I told them that I absolutely could not and would not do. I'm so mad at myself that I really don't know what to do except try to find some sort of bullshit silver lining to it all. I let the repairman talk me into starting work today, so now I don't know what's going to happen as far as seeing the grandgirls. I tried to explain the situation that I'm in, but he just dug in his heels and said that the landlord wanted the work done as soon as possible. I should've asked the landlord when I talked to her last night, but I was sidetracked because she told me that if I wanted some of the work done that I'd have to pay for it myself. My damn emotions and acquiescence. I hate this part of me. Time to change that, too.

So today the workers come to start tearing apart the bathroom. On the upside, we will have a new tile job; so the "ugliest tile job in the world" will be history. There's one silver lining.

Another silver lining is that the repairman really seems to need work, so my acquiescence will allow him a bit of cash flow. We'll call this a Mitzvah on my part.

So, I'm up way too early after tossing and turning all night because I'm a spineless wimp. Think I'll rest for another hour; and then, I'll hit the day running. Creativity and flexibility will be the mainstays of today. A good dose of accepting the consequences of my lily-livered existence will be on the menu, too. Guess we might as well throw in a good dose of over-coming obstacles while we're at it. Shit.

So that's it for today. Here's hoping that I get to spend a good amount of time with GL and the grandgirls. Here's hoping that I keep my cool and ask all the right questions. I may also try my hand at negotiating a couple of ceiling fan installations using all the guilt tactics that I can muster because by allowing the repairman to start today my family is being put out, and he knew from the get-go that Thursdays were out of the question, yet he went for it; and I let him. Should be a rather interesting day.

sigh

Happy to report that the day has turned out to be pretty darn awesome. Awesome, my word for the day. I really need to learn to be more positive right off the bat. What was all my bitching about?

T'was the Day Before Classes Began

And all through the house
This old creature was stirring
Picking out a blouse.

Well, you've gotta have a nice "First Day of School" outfit, right?

People, I have nothing tonight. I've taken care of practical, productive matters and little else today. I've done my best to not annoy my children. I'm not sure I've succeeded. Seriously, a very boring and good day.

I'm going to go knit and chill before I get to bed. Tomorrow I take my first Yoga and T'ai Chi Chih classes.

Oh, I had a spontaneous piano lesson today. I played with both hands! That's the part that has always freaked me out about piano playing. Well, I did it. I can play "Ode to Joy" on guitar and piano, now.

Guess my day wasn't so mundane after all.

Take care, Everyone. Peace be with all of you.

Rainy Days and Mondays ...

... always get me down.

It's a cold, gray day. I can't seem to shake the blues.

I've done all the laundry. Folded about four loads that had been sitting in baskets for about a week. Washed three more loads. Have folded two of them, and the third is in the dryer. I left BB's clothes for him to fold.

GL and the grandgirls came for a visit. I always have fun when the grandgirls come over. Big girl was full of stories and make-believe. She had a spa and put pickles on my eyes and mud on my face. Little One conquered the sippy cup and wouldn't take a nap for me, but did for her mom. We laughed, so there were moments of respite from my underlying uneasiness.

I tried deciding to be happy; it hurt worse. Felt like stuffing my feelings. I guess I have a few things to be concerned about.

My sis-in-law is having problems with a variety of illnesses that I don't understand. All I know is that she's spending a lot of time with doctors, nurses, needles and hospitals these days. I'm worried for her and for my brother. I hope they find the answers that they are seeking. I sort of know what it's like to go years without a method of treatment that works. My experience had to do with not having a diagnosis for 4 1/2 years. Maybe her diagnosis has changed. It sucks no matter how you look at it. I guess this might be a part of my strange mood.

A family friend had to take his wife to the ER today. That was not good news. My heart goes out to them both. She's been battling cancer for a long time, and he's been her primary caregiver for just as long. It's a tough road, and I just want the best for both of them.

My folks say that they're doing OK, but I'm not sure I believe them. I'm sure that they're worried about their daughter-in-law and son. I know they worry too much about BB, GL, Big Girl, Little One and me, too. I wish they'd stop worrying. It's not good for they're health.

School starts for me on Wednesday, and I'm a bit nervous about doing well in Yoga. We'll just have to see how it goes. I have clean clothes to wear, so onwards and upwards on that one.

I think part of my uneasy feelings today have to do with finding a job and what I kind of career I want now. This is pushed to the forefront today because I just certified for my last week of Unemployment Benefits. I'm now a 99er. Yeah, big old, "Yikes!" there. sigh

Another thing that is bugging me is the frustration of being a parent of adult children. I feel like I get blown off and disregarded too often. To top it off, when I get upset about it; I feel as though "people" write it off as "she's crazy" or something like that. I've been reassured by BB that he doesn't think this way, but I'm honestly not sure I believe him. I think I just annoy the crap out of GL simply due to the "mother/daughter" thing. Another SIGH. Guess I'm tired of not being listened to and walked on. Can't be a door mat if you don't lie down and take it, so guess what I'm changing.

Finally, I'm frustrated that I feel this way and can't hide it. It brings everyone down, and I feel responsible. Argh.

I'm feeling the need to not talk to anyone unless I want to. I've taken to turning off my cell phone. Anybody who really needs to reach me knows the house phone number.

I did do one other good thing besides the laundry and spending time with my children and grandchildren; I called the repair man that my landlord suggested. He'll be here tomorrow to look at what needs fixing. He may even start work tomorrow. That's good.

I think I'm over-tired and over-stressed. Guess I'll sleep for a while.

Tonight I should head to the DAS group. We'll see what the weather's like. The new group dynamic may not work for me. Thought I smelled alcohol on someone last week. There are new members, and I'm just not sure what's going to come of this. There are other options for therapy.

Tomorrow should be better. Seeing a friend and the repairman is coming.

Morning's Mundane Musings

There are three songs titled, "Sunday Morning"; one by The Velvet Underground, one by No Doubt, and one by Maroon 5. I like them all. Each has a different twist. You can certainly check them all out on YouTube.

Thus ends the Trivia portion of today's post.

It's Sunday morning, and I'm feeling fine. I have a lot to do today, so this will be quick and rather boring.

It is my last day off before starting school on Tuesday. If all goes well, I will see "the troops" tomorrow.

I'm considering adding an Intro to Business class to my schedule. Guess I'll have to make up my mind pretty quickly on that one. I'm also in the middle of deciding if it would be a good class to take online, or if it would be better to sit in a classroom. Decisions, decisions.

Other than that, today I take more pictures of the things that I've knitted and crocheted with thoughts of a possible side business. At least I'll document what I've created, so far. I'm still working on Big Girl's scarf, too.

Housework and rest is the plan for the rest of the day. I've got about five loads of laundry to fold and a bit of picking up to do. Not bad.

The rest is actually important today because I think I've strained my right eye with all the computer time. It's feeling better after two nights of quality sleep. I'm going to see what a nap does to it. Besides, I read an article that sleep is good for memory and creativity. Gee darn. :D

OK, that's it for this bit of boring. Merry Mundane Musings My Magical Mystifiers.

In Honor of Two Birthdays

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Birthday. The USA will be celebrating it officially on Monday, January 17th.

Today is also Linda's birthday. Linda is another one of my oldest friends. We met at church and slowly became friends over the years. Things really picked up when we both entered Junior High. Things remained pretty tight through most of High School. We ended up going to the same college, so we continued our friendship there. Eventually, I moved to California, and Linda moved on with her life. We lost touch. Like Kaylynn, though, we reconnected many years later.

It was like we had talked yesterday when we did finally reconnect. The things we saw eye-to-eye on were the same. The things we disagreed about were the same. I even think that some of the reasons that we disconnected were the same. Well, at least from my part. Linda's life has moved on to be very happy from what I've gathered, and of course I'm very happy for her. My life has continued to have its ups and downs, and while I may get overwhelmed at times; I'm hanging in there. I know we only wish each other the best.

I always thought it was pretty great that Linda shared Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday. Sometimes I was downright jealous. He's one of my biggest heroes, so you know. It also might explain why we both raised our hands one day in church when our reverend asked if anyone in the congregation would like to be Black. We were the only two to raise our hands. I think we were in 8th Grade at the time. We were young. When we talked later, we both commented about how our parents reacted to our action. If memory serves me right, which it doesn't sometimes, our parents were of the mind that we wouldn't like being Black because it's a more difficult life. Whatever. This was back in the early '70s.

I've always considered my friendship with Linda unique. For many years it was rather clandestine. Linda had a following. I roamed from clique to clique. We'd meet up and go out alone. As I recall, we always had fun. I don't regret a single moment except for one.

The only moment I regret with Linda was when I divulged some very personal information for the first time. It altered our friendship from that point on, or so I perceived. Obviously the change was for the negative. I remember thinking that if she had been in my shoes, and I was in her shoes that I wouldn't have reacted negatively. I was surprised at her reaction and struggled to see if we would remain friends. You know that back-peddling, "OH NO!" feeling you get sometimes in life. Well that was one of them for me. Again, we were young. More importantly, we did remain friends and still are.

I tend to make people uncomfortable sometimes with my openness about the more difficult times in my life. People don't know what to do. Some want to help. Some want to run for the hills. Some want to blame me. Some just drift away for a while and come back when the "crisis" is almost over or has been resolved in some way. I'm learning to keep my mouth shut and my fingers still, sort of.

Here's the thing: I hear so much negativity about areas where I (unfortunately and fortunately) have some personal experience. I feel compelled to confront ignorance and meanness. I use my life as an example. The philosophy and feeling behind it is, "My life has included [that thing]. You like and respect me. Can you open your mind and refine your comments, please?" I'm willing to "fall on the sword" to personify issues when blanket statements are made. I push people. Sometimes, my life is just so painful that I feel the need to talk to a friend about it because I value their input. Too much can be too much, though. Professional therapists have jobs for reasons, you know.

I've grown to respect that all of my friends have their own concerns and would like to be around me to lighten their load, too. This has been a revelation. I didn't just learn this recently, either. I think I really got it when I worked as an ER Registrar and incorporated my Theatre training in the job; "Leave your ego outside the door." Nothing like some real-life drama to make a person understand the important priorities in life.

It's just that sometimes I forget because I get so caught up in my own messes which have proven to be many and occur more frequently than I would like. I don't create all the messes, so coping with them is all I can do. Some of the messes I create, so cleaning them up is what I have to do.

In the Book of Life, I will probably go down as a good-hearted person and who knows what else. I'll leave that up to those who want to decide what box to put me in. I abhor boxes and always have. Thing is that I don't care anymore. I like me and know my long-term capabilities. I also know that I share my emotions on a grand scale sometimes; be they "good" or "bad." I am conscientious about "my audience", though; especially now.

So today is Linda's birthday, and I wish her all the happiness that she deserves. I know she does the same for me; she sent me a message saying just that. That's pretty sweet after all these years of growing up together. For all our differences and similarities, we still care about each other. That's good. It's nice to be complex and compassionate enough to maintain a friendship throughout so many years. It's takes courage, commitment, and caring along with an ability to accept and understand, or if all of that can't be undertaken then at least there is just the loyalty, fond memories and hope. For whatever reason, I've enjoyed the unique qualities of my friendship with Linda. I respect her even if we are 180 degrees apart on an issue or two. Where we connect is through our commitment to our children, and that's pretty awesome. There are other areas, too; but I think that's the main one; seeing as I'm not married and she is married. Maybe our real connection is that we sincerely hope for the best for each other. That's a huge bit of "ALL RIGHT"!

As for Martin Luther King, Jr., well being a child during the Civil Rights Movement, the Poor People's Campaign and the Vietnam War Protests (to name only three) is an experience that opened my eyes to a world outside my safe, secure domain. It was difficult to take as a child, but as an adult; I'm eternally grateful to have witnessed the changes that so many courageous people fought for. The times were violent, inspiring, dramatic, tumultuous, chaotic, and filled with hope, love, and peace. The complexity of the times taught me the joys of a complex life. It taught me the joys of thinking for myself. I'm still working on the whole leadership thing because like Reverend King, Jr., many gave their lives. I am reminded every day that there is more work to be done in all of these areas, though; so I'm rolling up my sleeves and diving in the mud. What the heck. If I'm going to die someday, I might as well die doing something I believe in.

I have a dream, too. My dream is that some day Democrats and Republicans and Tea Partiers and Socialists and Communists and ..... Rich and Poor and .... well, just that EVERYBODY will learn to work together to solve all the challenges that we are facing. I dream of rational discourse focused on finding solutions and the subsequent actions that are taken. I have a dream of compromise that takes into account all aspects of life in the USA and isn't focused on greed. I have a dream and like Martin Luther King, Jr., I'm trying to do my bit because I've had so many friends like Linda and family like my children who inspire me to do what I can to the best of my abilities.

Another lesser dream is that people will not see me as "less than" or pity me because if they do; they're missing the point entirely, and I have a hell of a lot more work to do. See, I know my life better than anyone, and I've been very lucky. Don't fool yourselves. I understand better than anyone who I am and what my life is about. If it blows you away, tell me. We'll have a dialogue. If you disagree, tell me. We'll have a dialogue. If you approve, tell me. We'll hang out and laugh. Shoot, I bet I can make you all laugh no matter how you feel about me, my life, my choices and all the grand issues in life. You see, my main goal is to be ... (wait for it) ... A LOVING, WISE GRANDMA, or shall we say, "A Loving and Wise MeeMa.... and Mom.... who makes people feel good and laugh while still standing up for what 'is right'."

So there it is. Peace be to All, and to All a Good Day.

Happy Birthday, Kaylynn!

Forty-eight years ago today Kaylynn was born. We met about six months later. I was about 3 1/2 years old. You know about Kaylynn, right? No? Sure you do. Well, if not, she's my oldest friend. She was adopted in 1966, and I thought I'd never see her again. I was six.

Today is her birthday, and I just hung up with her after wishing her a "Happy Birthday" and having a brief chat. It's storming where she lives, and the wind chill is -25. She's in her jammies and curled up for the night. It's a good night to stay in and stay warm.

The whole story of finding Kaylynn, and what life has been like since I did is something that I'm writing privately. It's coming along slowly. I found her in August of 2003. We saw each other for the first time in 37 years in September of 2003. We talk every week now. It's tapered off from every day when we first reconnected. Finding her is one of the best things to ever happen in my life. Having her in my life is so good for me. We're like two peas in a pod, yet very different in some important ways. She helps me maintain my balance. We love each other.

The best part is that today I got to wish her a "Happy Birthday." I went 37 years without being able to do that. Sometimes life is just too wonderful.

The other side of wonderful for today was seeing my kids and grandgirls. It was another good day.

Here's to more good days for everyone. Sweet dreams, all. I'm headed off to knit or write. Haven't quite decided. See you tomorrow.

Healthy, Happy Hiccup

I missed posting yesterday because I had a very full day. It was a great day. I was tired at the end of it.

I was on my feet for most of the day, too. As a result my knee was swollen, my back was sore, and my leg was somewhere between sore and numb. See why I'm taking Yoga and T'ai Chi Chih?

My day included many lovely hours with the grandgirls. I presented Big Girl's afghan to her. It's for her bed at home. I've said that, haven't I. She loved it.

"It got bigger," she said; and then, we wrapped her up in it and carried her into the living room. We were all very happy.

I'm also happy to report that Big Girl no longer thinks that "How to Train Your Dragon" is a scary movie. She hadn't thought that it was scary when we saw it in the theater, so I'm not sure how she came to that conclusion but no matter because I put it on and changed her mind. By the end of the movie, she was flying around the house because she was a dragon. After a while, she jumped on my back, and I was a flying dragon. Yeah! All it took was explaining that it was all make-believe/pretend cartoons like her uncle draws and talking through the movie. The whole experience goes down as one of the happiest of my life. Curled up with her in my lap in a big, comfy chair I described the scene where Hiccup and Toothless draw in the dirt. Hiccup dances through Tootless's drawing and ends up right in front of him, and they touch as friends for the first time.

"Oh this is one of my favorite scenes," I whispered in her ear, "See? Hiccup is drawing. Oh, look at Toothless drawing with a tree branch! Oops," I chuckled, "He hit Hiccup in the back of the head. Look at him go. Oooo. Look at that. On the line. Rrrrr. Off the line. Happy. On the line. Rrrr. Off the line. Happy. Oh, Hiccup is dancing through the drawing and..." I gasped, "He right by Toothless. Oh look at this now. He reachs out his hand and looks down. He's saying, 'I won't hurt you. I just want to be friends, but Toothless isn't sure, yet. There he goes. He puts his nose down and touches Hiccup. Ahhh. Now they're friends. They touched for the first time. Oh, but he's got something to do....," I ended, and Big Girl gave me the biggest hug.

We snuggled until Big Girl looked up and saw a few tears rolling down my cheeks. She looked concerned and a bit worried.

"Happy tears," I quickly told her, "MeeMa does that. It's OK." We cuddled some more; and then, it was time for lunch.

I played short order cook for lunch, while GL fed Little One. Lunch consisted of hummus, baby carrots, toast with butter, corn dogs, grilled cheese with raspberry fruit spread, and apple slices. We'd had strawberry Greek yogurt earlier as a snack. The best part of lunch was the sharing. Everybody had a little bit of almost everything. Big Girl shared her toast with Little One. BB shared his corn dogs with Big Girl and me. Big Girl decided she didn't want grilled cheese, so she said that I could have hers. GL shared her hummus and carrots with Big Girl and me.

Little One was in the high chair beside the refrigerator. She got very excited with all the activity surrounding opening and closing the frig. She got so excited that she learned how to open and close the frig from where she was sitting. It was great fun.

There I was in my kitchen, the heart of a home, doing what I love to do the most; spending time with my family talking, playing and eating. I am so much my grandmas's child.

I was able to find the digital camera, so I took some pictures of Big Girl, Little One and GL with Big Girl's afghan. There was a bit of a "hiccup" surrounding finding the camera, but eventually it turned up. I had a few tears over that, too. Silly, I know. I told myself and everyone that I was being silly.

"Women have been making afghans for ages without photographing them, and everything's been fine. It's just that it's my first afghan, and I made it for [Big Girl]," I said doing my best to console myself.

"She can take it home tomorrow, you know," said GL.

I hadn't thought about that. I decided that would be the way it would be until I started asking BB again if he had seen the camera. There's a thing I do when looking for something. I try to enlist the aid of others. Sometimes I ask them to look. Other times simply talking to them will result in finding the object. This was one of those cases where simply talking to BB resulted in finding the camera. I was so glad because I wanted Big Girl to take her afghan home with her that day. Yeah!

I also have to mention that GL was able to put Little One down for a nap when she didn't want to go to sleep for me. Little One wanted her mom. In under two minutes, GL emerged from my bedroom and rejoined Big Girl while she was painting.

We did a lot of things yesterday, and it was just serendipitous. We had a wonderful visit, and we get to have another one today in about three hours.

Of course, that wasn't the only part of my busy day. I got to go see the horses again yesterday. It was great. I'll be seeing them once a week at least from now on. I'm thinking twice a week will be better, so I'm deciding on what other day I will do that.

I need to lose more weight and get in better shape because grooming the horses and walking with them strains my knee, leg and back. I'm thinking that as I get going with the Yoga and T'ai Chi that things will improve. At least this is the "Master Plan."

After seeing the horses, I went to the grocery store to get some food for lunch and snacks today. My surprise purchase was some individual containers of Greek yogurt in more flavors. According to the packaging, Greek yogurt has 0% fat and only 120 calories per container. I've found a new favorite food.

I also got some organic blue corn chips, "cheesy broccoli rice", Cherry Coke (of course - my favorite vice), some ice cream, Eggo waffles, an avocado, tomatoes, apples, lettuce, some Puffs (sweet potato and strawberry), and a Marie Calendar's Turkey Pot Pie. Many items were on sale, of course. My coupe was the pot pie. The Marie Calendar's stuff is on sale til the 23rd, so I'll be back to stock up. Two bucks for each dinner is a great deal. It's nice to have a few things in the house to throw in for a quick meal.

I just remembered that I forgot (LOL) to get the Provolone for the tomato, onion, lettuce and Provolone sandwiches. Oh well. No worries. Today's lunch menu is chicken, "cheesy broccoli rice" and apple slices. I'll probably pick up the cheese later today. I love those sandwiches, and "they're so good for you."

So all in all, I put in twelve hours of activity yesterday mostly on my feet. I even got some more knitting done on Big Girl's scarf. I sat for that.

Little One's baby blanket and sweater are next to finish up. I haven't forgotten her. I just forgot what I was doing with her blanket. I've remembered now, I think. Goodness.

So that's it for "yesterday's post." We'll see how I feel at the end of today. I've got another twelve hours or so of activities scheduled again; mostly on my feet. The best part is spending time with the people I love, of course. The benefits are obvious; health and happiness.

I'm losing weight and eating better - for the most part. I'm moving around which in the end will only help everyone for obvious reasons. My next trick is to continue to treat myself this well when the grandgirls and kids are not around. I am a typical maternal-type woman; I take much better care of the people that I love than I take care of me. That's practically a life-long habit of mine that needs to be consciously broken. I'm working on it. It's hard to change a habit that started when I was four years old, but I believe it's possible; so there.

In parting, I'd like to again say that the reason that I love "How to Train Your Dragon" is multi-faceted. It's obviously a story of change based on a quote, "Everything we know about you is wrong." One "misfit" goes out into the world and has the courage and curiosity to discover the truth which leads to transforming "the world" for the better. It strikes a major blow for the abilities of the physically challenged because injuries and prostheses are dramatically represented. The man who was in charge of animating Toothless had just gotten a kitten. He'd never considered himself a "cat person" before, yet fell in love with his new pet. He did a brilliant job of representing the cat-like qualities he loved in Toothless, so it strikes a blow for cats, too. It's about Vikings, so I'm hooked there. Hiccup looks like my son and reminds me of his personality, too. Astrid is a strong female character, so we girls get someone to cheer for. "We" get to ride dragons and fly! Everyone changes and the evil monster is vanquished. It gives me hope that we can all change for the better. It inspires me to be a better parent (still - stop the nagging and all that - see my children for who they are and are meant to be - let them figure out how they're going to "fly"). This applies to the grandgirls, too, of course. You know what? It applies to me, too. It inspires me to go for my dreams and work hard discovering new ways of approaching life. What's not to love with this movie?

Great Day!

What an absolutely lovely day. I spent it with a friend.

We went to school and picked up our books. We had a lunch at Subway. We came back to my house and knitted while watching National Geographic shows on The Appalachian Trail, Yosemite, and Yellowstone.

So simple. So perfect.

Releasing Resolution Requiem

I've been advised not to write about this subject. I've spent a few days thinking about it. I think the experience is worth sharing. It is a complex and tender subject that deserves to be recognized and properly shared. Because it is so tender and complex, properly sharing the nuances of the experience is very important. If improperly shared, many feelings could be hurt and outright anger could be directed at me or those I love. I don't want to cause anyone any pain, and I certainly don't want misunderstandings to result in unneeded anger towards anyone. Still, if I think the nuances of this experience might help someone out there (including myself); isn't it worth giving it a go? With this in mind, here is what I have to say today.

A few days ago I found out that someone died. I was surprised at my emotional reaction. I was so surprised that I shared it with BB, GL and my dad. It was my dad that advised me not to share my experience, and I agreed with him.

Yet, as the days progressed I continued to re-evaluate my reaction and wondered many things. I constantly asked myself if I was lying to myself about one half of my initial emotional reaction. I decided after a few days that I definitely was not lying to myself. I wondered if this realization was based in egoism, or if my commitment to the Dalai Lama's teachings had taken hold. I had to admit that a part of it was based in egoism; as sense of achievement and pride that I had transcended some baser emotional responses. This does not sit well with me, but it is the truth. It's like saying, "HA!" to the ignorant and simple mindsets that I abhor which only makes me realize how much more work I have to do with the whole compassion and understanding thing. This led to thinking about what I have learned as a result of a few experiences tied to the person that died. Goodness. This led to even more questions and probing for answers. Tired yet? I was.

You see, when I heard that this person died; I felt happy for two reasons. I was happy that his pain and suffering was over; he was released. This bit of happiness also contained respect for his family and friends who had cared for him and loved him throughout his illness and before. I respected their love and grief in the moment and knew that I would never want to bring them any pain. I was happy that the person had so many friends, family, former co-workers and students who loved him. I hoped that they would all find some sort of release from the immediate pain of losing him. This was certainly a good thing.

It was the other happy that made me stop in my kitchen, the heart of a home, and ponder, "Where is this happy coming from?" My immediate response and understanding said that this happy was because I was released. A weight had been lifted. You see, I spent most of my life not liking this person for reasons that I thought were very valid. I'd often thought of writing a letter to finally explain what this person had done to my childhood, but I could never come up with the right words or tone. I couldn't bring myself to trust this person to understand what I was trying to say. My perceptions stood in the way of resolving a lifelong issue, and on the day that this person died I was released from having to figure all that out; I was free to go forward and leave this issue behind, or so I thought.

My happiness was not rooted in vengeance or revenge. This is what I investigated for the past few days. I've searched every bit of my being and have come up with the same answer, "My happiness was a simple, highly personal, intimate release of one more negative issue in my life when I am focused on releasing as much negativity as possible. My happiness was selfish because I am learning to be selfish and to let go of silly, little, self-perceived negative experiences; so that, I can continue to go forward and become the person I dream of becoming; a wise, compassionate, complex, understanding, loving grandma. If any part of my happiness was based in vengeance and revenge, I would admit it because it would show me just how far I have to go on my path. I would not be writing this post about this subject until I had resolved some of those issues because to me this is the story; overcoming hurt and anger and focusing on the learning and achieving.

I'm confident that these feelings and statements are true. I believe I know myself in this area. I have experienced enough pain in my life that I have an aversion to causing anyone else any pain to such a degree that I often hurt myself rather than hurt others. This is not healthy, and I am working on it.

So initially I felt happy. When I shared this surprising reaction with BB and GL, they listened attentively and responded with such kindness and insight.

"Goodness Gracious," I thought hearing my grandmas voices in my head, "I am so lucky to have two people in the world who listen to me, trust that I'm telling the truth; and then, offer clarity and kindness. I am so lucky to have such complex and compassionate children."

"So your happiness is because you feel like you don't have to deal with this any more," they both said.

"Yeah," I responded and felt a little mental tug which signaled that in actuality I did have more to do.

I was mistaken. I discovered that I owed it to myself, my children, my family, and the person that died to get to the heart of the matter. I rolled my eyes many times during the next few days wishing to put it all aside. I did put it aside and focused on my grandgirls, children, potential jobs, mundane tasks and just me in general; but it nagged at me.

If I was going to really say that I was released, I had more to do. The signs were simple; each time I saw a mention of how wonderful this person was I had that knee-jerk reaction to respond, "No they weren't!" I didn't respond when I felt this way. I understood that this was an indicator or more internal work to be done. I did the work, and have arrived at the following realizations; many, many realizations.

To start off with, the person that died and I have many things in common. As humans, we made our mistakes and had our achievements. We were liked by some and not liked by others. We liked some and disliked others. Basic boring stuff, but to accept a person's humanity is one of the first steps to healing and forgiving.

More to the point, we both loved basketball, English, and being a bit eccentric; or shall I say, "individualistic." I think we both took some sort of pleasure in intellectual pursuits, too. We both liked to write. We both loved nature. We both loved farms. I'd even say that we both loved cows. I also believe that we were both good teachers. Another thing that I think we had in common is a difficulty taking orders from people we perceived to be imposing their will on us or with whom we flat out disagree.

OK, I have admitted that we shared some similarities that I consider mainstays of my life, but that does not sum up all the realizations or even the most important realizations. The most important realizations come from the one negative experience I held on to for so long; a public campaign to have my dad removed from his job that was spearheaded by the person who died.

What I have finally admitted to myself is that the person who died may have led the charge, but many people played a part in the disaster that entered my childhood. To my dad's credit, he has said that he didn't properly prepare me for being the child of a public figure, nor did he prepare me to simply be his daughter. According to dad, he's the kind of person that people seem to have strong emotions about; they either love him or hate him. He didn't prepare me to deal with all the bad things that people would say and do because they didn't like him. So there's the only bit of resolution I'd gotten on the whole issue until today. Nobody else has ever said anything to me. I'm sure nobody ever really knew how deeply this impacted my life. I don't know if the person who died ever fully realized the major shift his leadership and writing skills created in my home and public life. I'm sure that he didn't at the time. I'll never know, will I. I do know that up until a few years ago people were still apologizing to my dad for having signed The Petition that was published in the local newspaper.

It's the public part of the whole experience that was hard to take. I'd been reading since I was three, so picking up a newspaper and reading The Petition, letters, and signatures of so many family friends was devastating. I was young enough to not understand and only be hurt and distrustful of everyone I came into contact with after that. The comments by fellow students ranging from elementary school to high school caused a lot of hurt feelings and fights. No kid likes to hear bad things about their parents, and no kid likes to read bad things in the newspaper about their parents.

It was around this time that I started getting picked on during my bus rides home, too. This ended when I got beat up by a high school bully. I couldn't hide the marks or the broken glasses. Getting beat up because someone hates your dad is pretty terrible, too. I've always wondered if the public nature of the campaign for my dad's job had anything to do with it. It was a vitriolic campaign. Did the boy feel a sense of freedom and support in expressing his anger? Certainly taking it out on me was wrong, but life hadn't ever reached these extremes before.

So there I was doing my best to defend my dad out in the world, and at home the tension was almost unbearable at times. My parents felt so betrayed. Our happy home was invaded not only by the newspaper articles but also by the gossip. Oh how the people gossiped. They never stopped after that point either. It got so bad in years to come that I swear I saw a neighbor with binoculars focused on our house. I'd like to think that memory is more imagination than fact, but I have this image. If nothing else, it is a picture of how I felt growing up in my home town as my parents' daughter.

I couldn't trust anyone, really. Anyone could stab me in the back at any time, and I put on a cavalier attitude to mask my disgust. It didn't help, and in fact, added fuel to the fire. I talked too much about my home life. It was if to say, "You people did this to my home, so you want something to talk about - Here!" What a childish mistake. This added to the gossip.

The Vicious Circle, as dear Mary Parker would make famous, had a branch office in my home town. I wasn't completely sure who they were and figured that most everybody I knew played some part in wanting to see my family fail. During all this time, I rarely talked to my parents about what I was experiencing. They asked, but I just said things were fine. I don't know if they believed me. They did try to convince me that there were good people, and that gossip was something that people did. They tried to convince me to pay no attention to it all. I couldn't ignore it. It was everywhere. Besides, I'd been raised not to gossip and to have compassion and understanding for people. This was a family credo. How could other people play in this hurtful, lying, disgusting arena? What kind of Jack-Asses were they? I never could let go of my hurt, anger and distrust. I also developed an inflated ego because I sincerely thought that I was better than most because I didn't gossip and would never play dirty like so many I had the displeasure of knowing. These were my perceptions during my childhood that went from idyllically happy to absolutely dismal. I wish I'd been able to lighten up like my parents tried to inspire me to do. I wish I could've just let it go; roll off my back like water off a duck's tail, so to speak. What was done was done, though.

So given all of this, there are still more realizations. Certainly I've learned throughout the years that some of the most valuable lessons come from "your enemies." I certainly considered the person who died an enemy.

I considered him such an enemy that I took a class from him in high school. This didn't sit well with my parents. They thought it best to stay away. I didn't need to take his class. There were plenty of other classes I could take. They didn't understand my need to count coupe. I needed to glare at him for one class period a day for a semester. I needed to NOT laugh at his jokes and egocentricities. I needed to show him that he was hated by one. Again, it was childish. More importantly, it really didn't solve anything. I sat front and center in his class and glared at him for a semester. I got my "A" because I deserved it. Our teacher/student relationship on an academic level was professional and curt. His notes on my papers were to the point and not sugary. He was a good teacher, and I never let him know it. It was my childish revenge. Neither of us ever addressed the past issue of his campaign and subsequent removal as my dad's assistant coach.

You see, the school administration ended up backing my dad. Yes, he won. Yippee.

Thing was that the gossiping and backstabbing never stopped from that point on. It was as though the person who died opened Pandora's Box, and all the demons rushed out into my home town and into our home. It was never the same after that.

"He ruined my childhood," I've thought for years.

I have finally put it into perspective. It only took a little over forty years.

So I've realized that while I don't know all the details of what happened to make the person who died take the actions that he did so long ago, I don't care any more. I forgive him his mistakes. He was young and human. He had his path to travel. I don't think he took one moment to consider that his actions would so adversely and so positively impact my life. You see, he has been one of my "best teachers", too; just not for all the reasons that my classmates voted him their "Favorite Teacher."

The person who died spearheaded a campaign and used his charm and leadership skills to convince many to follow him without talking to my dad first. Oh the lessons in that action. You can see them all, can't you. I do.

The person who died wasn't solely responsible for what happened, and certainly wasn't responsible for my grudge and childishness. I really do wish that I'd lightened up a whole lot, and I'm working on it.

I formed a strong belief that people should consider what they are saying, and how they are saying it because most everyone has a child or family member who is an "innocent" and can be hurt by the ensuing events. Basically, think before you speak and choose the proper forum. Remember the Ripple Effect.

Youth is wasted on the young. Having had the experience of hanging out with the 20-something crowd, I've come to realize that a bit of confidence twisted can become arrogance when filtered through any mind. The energy and conviction to prove a point and get a way can interfere with solving a problem when fueled by youthful arrogance. It is a cautionary tale worth repeating. This is not to be confused with talent, desire, and all the good things that many (SA!) youthful (BB!) people (GL!) have. Sometimes we just want what we want and get caught up in it. Sometimes our ego gets in the way. Our misguided strength determines how wide the scythe will cut and how deeply the knife will be thrust.

Collateral damage is not acceptable. It's an unfortunate part of life that can take years to clear up and make amends for. When the effort to clear things up and make amends is not taken, a person must realize that it is up to them to heal old wounds because that's what adults do. Adults think about how they can be the best people they can be because they are leaders and responsible for their actions. Adults understand that children need to be protected; and that, adults are role models for many more people than they ever imagined that they would be. Giving up an egocentric way of life is beneficial because it can be replaced with social responsibility. Kindness is key.

The depth of dispair can be healed through concentrated commitment to a better life. Getting rid of old hurts is worth it. Period.

Talking with my parents or anyone who cared about me would've been a great choice. It would have saved me years of pain and poor choices. Realizing how deeply this hurt went and how it clouded so many of my choices and perceptions has provided an insight into the workings of my child's mind. My world was a scary, painful place when I was a kid for a lot of reasons and seldom did I tell anyone. I held it inside and wanted to be brave. It got all messed up inside until I didn't know how to talk to anyone. I withdrew and nursed my hurts. My life has been a long journey of internal hurt. It's time to stop it all, so I'm writing it all down because maybe someone else can benefit from it. I'm giving up my egocentric ways and focusing on how I can my family and friends; and thus, I will help myself.

Hurting someone unintentionally is not something to beat yourself up about. It may be something to say you're sorry for, but it is definitely not something to beat yourself up about.

Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Forgive.

We're all human and capable of great mistakes and hurting those we have no intention of hurting. With that in mind, we are also capable of great achievements and helping those we don't even know.

Gossip is bad, but buying into it is even worse. Gossip seems to be a part of the human experience, so lightening up about it is in order and a goal. Is it what it is. It can be vicious and rooted in a person's hatred, and it can be humorous and rooted in telling a silly story. Usually it is exaggerated and has a few "false truths" in it. It remains a waste of my time; family upbringing and interest in journalism and all that.

Not everyone is going to get along. Period. Let it go. Move on. Whatever.

It's silly to hold on to a grudge for so long. It's silly to let something interfere with anyone's happiness when it is so old and petty. The world didn't really end. The tension and troubles were let loose, but I blew it out of proportion because it happened when I was a kid and never really came to grips with it all. I may never know how my perceptions and reactions impacted my major decisions, but I have a few inklings; and it was my continued attachment to the "wrongs" done to me and my family that skewed my existence. Had I just let it go .....

On that note, I think I've written about as much as I've ever written about anything or anyone. I think the person who died might enjoy that. He did many good things throughout his life like setting up a scholarship fund, being a good husband and father, being a favored teacher, being a respected writer, being a conscientious dairy farmer, and winning various awards and championships. I respect that about him. I respect his complexities and the amazingly large amount of stuff he taught me that he had no intention of teaching me. I also respect the tremendous amount of stuff that my parents tried to teach me and continue to try to teach me. They are all very different people, but I am a willing student of Life.

So in the end, which it is now, I can't say that I am grateful that I knew the person who died; but the person that died did provide me with many opportunities to learn and love. I am happy that he is not suffering any more. I am sorry for his family and friends. I think I can move on now to become a better person. This makes me happy and is the root of why I guess I felt happy initially.

Remember, emotions are just emotions. They happen. Finding out why may or may not be worth the effort. It may take years or seconds. It's nothing to be afraid of. We're all just human. We all have loves and hates. I think that if we really look for the similarities in each other that we will find them. At least we might reach a compassionate place within ourselves because we choose to let go of the anger and pain.

This is my requiem for the person who died. It is my very personal and intimate tribute. I decided to learn and grow up. I decided to let it all go and become who I'm meant to be; a loving and wise grandma.

We are released, and we are both free to fly.

"Even now, at the age of fifty,
Coming out of the barn after milking,
I cannot resist
Picking up a basketball
To loft some arcing jumpshots
On my home court,
The wide spot in the driveway.

In coveralls and rubber boots
I breathe deep and eye the rim,
Resighting free throws launched in college
That clanged off the iron."

- from "Shootout" by Mike O'Connell

**NOTE: I have re-read this post and discovered many typos and grammatical errors. T'would be nice to have an English Teacher edit my posts, sometimes. I'll fix 'em later. Off to eat Milk Duds.

It's 9 O'Clock on a Monday...

... The regular crowd shuffles off to Buffalo.

???

Well, what do I do when I'm so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open? Babble nonsense seems to be the easiest.

Today has been another full, productive, exhausting day. No girls. Three big appointments. All emotional roller coasters ridden. Quite frankly, I deserve a great night's sleep.

The window by the computer is open a bit, and I just felt the nicest breeze. I know. A winter's breeze? Yep. I keep my window open all winter long. In fact, I'm going to go make sure my bedroom window is open just the right amount; the proper amount to create a bit of a breeze in my bedroom tonight. MMMMmmmmmm.

I started sleeping with the window open my Senior year in high school. I stayed with a family who didn't have heat in the upstairs of their home; just one of those vents in the floor that let the heat from the downstairs rise up. Well, we always slept with the window open a crack in the upstairs bedroom. We'd lay under a mountain of blankets that weighed us down, and keep the window open a crack. Our clothes would all be laid out at night; so that, we could jump out of bed in the morning, grab our pile of clothes and head down to get ready in the bathroom when it was our turn. Margaret, the mom, always made us a hot breakfast, too. It was pretty awesome. I've slept with my window open ever since. I didn't catch one cold that winter. I've come to the conclusion that sleeping with the window open is healthier for you no matter what season it is. I admit that I could be wrong, but I don't care.

OK, there. You got some meaningless babbling from me again tonight. Have a lovely sleep.

Feverish Thinking

I've thought about what I would write today all day. I'm not done thinking about it, and I want to go to bed. Will you forgive me? I'm going to go get my rest. I've been kinda sick, sore and feverish for a couple of days; so the brain is kinda mushy.... Mush Head. LOL ---- that used to be one of my nicknames.

Sweet dreams all. I'm outta here and outta it.

To Be Alive - A Poem

She stood, and she watched.
She never moved very far away.
She dreamed of days together
and mourned too many days apart.
She struggled.

She sat, and she thought.
She remained in the same house.
She focused on good times
and tried to forget the bad.
She survived.

She stood, and she moved.
She cleaned her whole house again.
She remembered joyous laughter
and waited for it to return.
She succeeded.

She sat, and she sighed.
She revelled in her sanctuary.
She felt the warmth and peace
and longed to share it again.
She succumbed

to the pain
and the tears
and the anguish
and the exhaustion
and the disappointment
and the energy it took

to stay positive
and patient
and strong
and supportive
and understanding
and hopeful

She stood, and she knew.
She walked to the old stereo.
She played her favorite song
and danced the demons out.
She surmounted.

She sat, and she gasped.
She sprawled in her chair.
She inhaled gobs of air
and waited to dance again.
She strived

to be alive.

















Photo: Scales of Dance Logo taken by Sandro Miller.
The Scales of Dance motto is, "Live to Dance. Dance to Live."

Creating Through the Pain

If my recent knitting and crocheting productivity is any reflection of the amount of pain that I am in, well then I'm doing a bang up job of pushing through it on a daily basis. It is something to continue to create when so emotionally and physically distressed. I'll give that to me. I'm doing something in spite of just wanting to go to sleep until everything "clears up." I'm getting "my feet under me" as I push through and continue to do the mundane, the creative, and the communing activities of life. I am squashing old foibles, habits, and weaknesses every single day. I do acknowledge this and really do feel a need to shout it out to all, "I'm Doing It! I'm Fighting Back! I'm Being So Very Patient! I AM HERE Waiting for the day when Something, Anything gets Better! I Will NOT Give Up!"

With that in mind:

If all goes well, I will have Big Girl's "blanket for my bed at home" done by Monday. I've got twelve more rows to crochet, all ends to sew in, washing and blocking to do. The blanket will be fifty-four rows long when it is done, so I am on the home stretch. It is very heavy and big enough to cover a twin-size bed. I didn't realize that it would be so heavy. It is warm and soft, too. I'm using Lion Brand Hometown (thick) yarn. Big Girl approved the colors and design when she visited two weeks ago. It is purple, white, navy blue and lime green. The pattern is a traditional zigzag. I crocheted until 6:38am this morning and was up at 11:30am to get my day started. I need to eat, but I have showered. I've also taken care of business and am writing this blog.

My time crocheting and knitting is time for me to work through things. It's meditative in some ways. It's certainly creative, too. Every project provides an opportunity for me to use my creative mind and skills. Each project also provides an opportunity for me to work on math problems, too. I never seem to just follow a prescribed pattern. I'm always futzing with it. This creates many challenges and many times the results are not what I'd hoped for. I learn something new with each project, so my skills are improving.

I have no grand insights today because I'm in the middle of disciplining my inner environment. There are many serious thoughts and emotions to deal with and put a positive spin on. Positive thinking does not come naturally to me, so this time is exhausting. I have no idea if the whole positive thinking thing will really work. I guess it may just be another coping skill.

I'm facing the realities of my life head on and realizing that I have many, many regrets. It is a constant struggle to be happy and love myself. My grief is sometimes unbearable, or so I think. This is when I crochet and knit the most.


For those who would like to check out Dare Wright's Official Website: http://www.darewright.com/index.htm -- It is fascinating.

I've mentioned the book and series before, but again; Dare Wright wrote ten "Lonely Doll" books that were brilliantly illustrated with photographs. The only one that I have is, "A Gift from the Lonely Doll." It's made an indelible impact on my life. I haven't quite figured out if my attachment to this is entirely healthy, but like "The Lonely Doll" I am knitting (and crocheting) gifts for those I love consistently in spite of whatever difficulties I may be experiencing.



So I will go off and ponder my existence while I continue to create. I have twelve rows to finish on Big Girl's afghan and all the finishing work to do before Monday morning; so I'm off to do that now. If all goes well I will continue on to finish her scarf and Little One's blanket. I wonder if I can get all of this done before Monday. I guess we'll see.

... and yes, I will remember to take care of myself, too. It is now 2:30pm. I will put something on the TV that I enjoy and love myself for the rest of the day.

Take care of yourselves. Remember, we lonely people do have a place in this world. We also have the power to overcome the pain of loneliness. Oh, that Positive Thinking thing can be a real pain, you know; but it is so very useful. Keep on Keepin' On, Everyone!

Oh, the Happy Days on the Farm

Once upon a time a little girl spent most of her days on a farm in southern Minnesota with an older couple that she called, "Grandma" and "Grandpa." Grandma and Grandpa were a farming couple. They raised chickens, pigs, and cows besides their garden vegetables and the potato garden behind the barn. Their pastures were filled with clover and grass for the cows. There was a magical pond on their property where big bullfrogs, freshwater clams, and a large heron lived.

As the little girl grew, she learned that the farm produced most of the food that Grandpa and Grandma ate. They got their milk from the cows. They got their pork chops and bacon from the pigs. Their eggs came from the chickens. Clam chowder and frogs legs came from the clams and frogs that lived in the pond. The little girl thought this was great.

One day when Grandpa was milking the cows, he tilted the cow's teat towards the kitten sitting beside her. He pulled squirted milk right into the kitten's mouth. The little girl was amazed. Soon more cats and kittens came running up to Grandpa and started meowing. Grandpa grumbled but squirted milk at each one. When each feline had been fed, the little girl looked at Grandpa, squatted down, meowed and opened up her mouth. Grandpa chuckled and squirted some milk into her mouth, too.

The milk was warm and creamy. It tasted very sweet. The little girl licked her lips, wiped her mouth with her sleeve and meowed again.

"Just one for everyone, little girl," Grandpa said.

The little girl frowned, poked out her lower lip and looked down at the floor. She raised her eyes and looked at Grandpa in a most humble way.

"Oh no. No pouting and no begging," Grandpa said.

"But it's sweet and good," the little girl responded.

"That's from the clover, dear," Grandpa said, "I know, but if I give you another shot the cats will all want another one. Just one for everyone. OK?"

"OK," she agreed.

From that day on, the little girl went with Grandpa when he milked the cows. She lined up with the cats and kittens to get her one squirt of milk. Life was good.

Besides, she now had an important job to do when Grandpa milked the cows; she would hold the glass milk bottle while he squirted milk into it. The milk bottle was never to be put on the floor of the barn. This was very important.

When the glass milk bottle was filled, and the milking was done; Grandpa and the little girl would bring the full bottle to Grandma in the house. She would still wipe it down; and then, she would put a cap on it and put it in the refrigerator. Later at dinner, Grandma, Grandpa and the little girl would drink the milk. Dinner was what Grandma and Grandpa called lunch.

Oh, the happy days on the farm that the little girl had with Grandpa and Grandma. The food was very, very good. The air was had so many interesting smells. The animals were all pretty good except for the chickens who just wouldn't mind anyone. Momma Pig only got mad at the little girl once, and that was how the little girl learned that she couldn't go in the pig pen with the piglets if Momma Pig was awake. That was very scary, but Grandpa's helper pulled her out of the pen before Momma Pig reached the little girl. He saved her life, or so the little girl thought. The little girl knew that she was safe and loved on the farm.

It's amazing what can happy when a child feels safe and loved. Confidence grows. Self-esteem is strong. Laughter is plentiful. Honesty is nurtured. Beautiful days are experienced every day; even when it rains or illness takes over. Enough memories are formed to last a lifetime of adult pain and sorrow. A standard is set. Happy childhood days are important.

Certainly the environment can add to the experience, but most importantly it's the people who convey the message of simple peace and love. The little girl was very, very lucky to have so many wonderful people in her life when she was so little. Now that she is an adult, she remembers them with more gratitude than she ever knew that she would when she was a little girl. These people have shaped her. Her experiences on the farm have provided a stronghold of faith, strength, and simple determination. Her faith is based on basic human existence by down-to-earth, kind people who did not have much money but were doing what they could to survive and be happy.

Maybe this is the importance of mundane existence lived with grace and compassion. Maybe this is what all children should aspire to be; kind, determined, conscientious adults who accept their circumstances and are grateful for all the simple pleasures in their lives. To protect a child from angst and strive to live a peaceful, loving life is more valuable than any scientist can quantify. There is no earthly measurement for the good that is created by when adults remember that they and the children around them deserve the very best that can be produced.

On the farm, Grandpa and Grandma raised many things; but mostly, they raised healthy children because they were healthy adults. At least that's how the little girl who is now a semi-healthy adult sees it.