Winter Wood

Well. I'll just have to turn my head sideways to look at this photo since it won't go in the way it's supposed to. What the heck.

At any rate, I'm making progress on growing my wood stacks, yes I am!

And I've got a bunch of kindling neatly in place too.

Below you'll see a part of what still needs to be organized, aside from the basement stuff. This is mostly thick slabs of bark that came off of the big old cottonwood trunks, with kindle bundles on top of them. All of this stuff will get moved downstairs as I find time, and be in its own little spot.

As I'm working my way toward conducting my annual wood gather in an Orderly Fashion, I'm realizing that I have to do some rearranging. The tables in the basement with their sticks need to be moved over to make way for the next rows of stacks, for starters. The big chunks are going to stay where they are because I am NOT going to move them until it's time to figure out how to split them. The table with all sorts of miscellaneous stuff setting on it needs to be cleared off and moved to the other side of the basement. The assortment of boards that's hogging a lot of the space down there (haven't posted a photo of that mess yet) has to be rassled into some kind of order, too. 

But, being as I have to run a couple of errands before I head out for my shift-work today, tonight will have to be soon enough to start on all that.

So much for getting any writing done, huh?

Oh well. 

So it goes.

I'll write this winter when my woodstove is keeping me toasty warm. And I'll write about something besides wood-gathering.

I Have Some Cutting To Do I See

In keeping with my resolution to keep up with myself this year in preparation for the coming Long Dark, I'm going to get the wood I've already got cut to length and see where I'm at before adding to the collection. 

It's kind of a survival thing for me. If I don't keep it organized as I go along, I'm liable to trip over a pile of wood and be very sorry I didn't cut and stack it. Experience speaking here.

We're making progress, though - thanks to my sister Mary! 

This pile is about three times as big as it was before yesterday.

Howsomever, the below stacks need cutting down to size! 

This one is at the foot of the basement steps.

This one is on top of a table. It's for starting fires, along with kindling.

This one is setting on top of the big wash sinks. It's a little bigger, maybe as big around as my wrist, and is for cooking fires, along with feeding regular ones to get a good bed of coals going.

These are stacked on the floor at the end of yet another table. When cut, they will fit into the firebox of my stove and provide a nice long fire for heating, cooking, and keeping water hot.

This pile is a lot bigger than I want it to be - these all have to be split if I'm going to be able to use them.

So yeah, I've got my work cut out for me here. Getting the wood is hard work, and it's only just the beginning of said hard work. There's another pile that I totally forgot to get a photo of, too. Lots of cutting to come!

But it will be worth it!

When I get these batches done, I'll collect some more and start all over again, and keep on keeping on with the cycle while the weather holds. 

Little Old Gramma Lady Lumberjacks ...

I'll stack this (photo below) neatly, I really will. But not tonight. I took my work boots off and am not going to put them back on tonight, not no how not no way! I'm in my comfy slippers and am going to stay that way.

I've also got some cutting to do, but not nearly as much as I would have if my sister hadn't done two things : 1) she got my chain saw going for me (it hates me); and 2) she got out her own chain saw and we got all of the above cut to length before I even brought it home. The stack in the below photo will get neatened up and added to what I've already got of about that size ... then one of these days - when I'm not wiped out from breaking, cutting, dragging and/or carrying, loading, and unloading - I'll get ambitious and cut them all down to length. Most of this is going to be perfect for my cooking fires! Ah, better make that three things. The other is that while I was in one section of the shelter belts she took her chain saw to another section and had three piles cut to length while I wasn't looking! 

When I pulled out of my sister's farmyard my little S10 pickup bed was full - not overfull but to the top of the bed box, a perfect load.

There's lots and lots left out there, more than I'll need this year for sure, so tonight I'm going to sleep like a log (no pun intended but there you have it) and head back out tomorrow. I left some cut to length out among the trees; I'll remember to take along my toboggan tomorrow for hauling. It's a lot easier than carrying out an armload at a time, believe you me, especially if you're back in the trees a ways. 

If I can manage to get an earlier start tomorrow I should be able to get two loads instead of only one - plus I learned something tonight when I was unloading. Lengths of four or five feet work a lot better for unloading and stacking. The cut to length ones seem to take forever to unload when I'm tired already. There are just too darned many of them! I ended up loading them into a big plastic tote and carrying them down that way. Throwing the longer ones down the basement steps is easier and quicker. I can cut the longer ones down to size any time - for now the thing is to just get them home.

Oh, in case you're not familiar with my unloading methods ... 

There's a side door of my house that opens right into the basement landing; I back my little pickup to the doorway, let down the tailgate, and throw the wood down the basement steps, trying to shoot it as far as I can into the basement. 
Inevitably it starts piling up at the foot of the steps and next thing you know it's most of the way up the steps. 
Then of course I have to try to clear it off the steps, working my way down as I go. 
It sounds like extra work, but it's actually not nearly as time and energy consuming as carrying it all down one little load at a time. Frankly, by the time I'm unloading, I'm flat out of both time and energy. If need be, that wood can sit on the darned steps until I recover enough to tend to it.

At any rate, I'm off to a good start this year with my firewood gathering. I had some of my own tree trimming branches from last year, about a load's worth; then a friend took me gathering a couple of weekends ago, another load; and today's load is only the first of (hopefully) probably a dozen or so more, God willing and weather permitting.

*contented sigh*

I'm going to want to do the stacking of today's haul first thing tomorrow before I go out for more. If I'm smart (which I might or might not be depending on the day) I'll also go ahead and cut all the long pieces down to size. 

I can do that any time, this is true ... but my basement is unheated and it can get almighty cold down there when it's forty below outside. A quick trip down to replenish the supply for a day's use is one thing - spending more than a few minutes down there is a whole different ballgame. So this year I'm going to try to spare myself as much winter work as possible and see how much I can get cut to size and stacked ahead of time.

Great.

It's midnight and I've just talked myself into putting my work boots back on and going down to stack that wood. 

Sometimes I forget that I'm a little old gramma lady, you know that?

Geez.

Got a Couple of Things on My Mind

2015  09  25

First of all, the Pope is visiting the United States. Next month it will be the Dalai Lama. The words of these two men will impact many, perhaps for a short time, perhaps for longer. People tend to make a big deal out of such things and then just get on with getting on, doing what they do for good or for ill.

Second, being as I'm an American and my family has been since the founding of the United States of America, I can't bring myself to ignore what's going on in this nation. See, we don't have a Pope to guide us; we don't have a Dalai Lama. We'll listen to what they have to say, but they aren't 'ours' so to speak. Some of us will listen harder, pay closer attention, try a little more to understand what they're trying to tell us - but ... well ... only some of us are Catholic and even fewer are Buddhist. We're a conglomerate of all sorts of peoples here. That's what this nation is all about, after all, or is supposed to be. People who believe in Family, Friends, Freedom, the Future, and have Faith that a way will be found to fuse all of us into a united country.

I think most everybody tends to forget how really young we are as a nation, only a couple of hundred years. Compared to most of the rest of our world, we are incredibly diverse - and we are young as a nation. We are working to figure out how our Constitutional Republic is supposed to function. Our founders gifted us with a legacy, and the instructions as to how to use it. We as a People haven't been paying real close attention to what they told us. As challenges arise, that's changing a little. But this isn't going to be about the Constitution, Bill of Rights, or the Federalist Papers.

I'm puzzling in my mind the reactions to those who are coming within our borders.

Now, on the one hand we've got millions of refugees who need a place of safety. On the other hand, here in the USA, we've got many more millions who are just coming on in without being invited. 

Some of us are saying we ought to close our borders completely, find and evict those who are just barging in on us, and not let anybody else in until we've taken care of our own current citizens. Heaven knows we've got plenty of internal issues among us that could use a sorting out.

Others say to kick out the illegals and use the resources we've been spending on them to first of all help our own and secondly to help those who are seeking sanctuary in the legitimate use of the concept, asking for and coming in only when given permission by the People of the United States.

And that's only the tip of the iceberg. We are fussin' and feudin' among our own selves over this, that, and the other thing. Different folks have different views on all kinds of things, and  they're all strong in their opinions. It's been that way since the dawn of mankind. You'd think we'd have figured out how to manage ourselves by now, make allowances for people who don't see things in exactly the same way we do, and get on with developing our culture in a way that makes sense.

*laughing*

Right.

What makes perfect sense to one person is another person's idea of insanity.

#  2015  09  26

I found out that both China and Russia (their heads of state) are going to be meeting with our own in short order although not at the same time. Would it not be a good thing for both the Pope and Dalai Lama to sit down with them and a few other heads of state at the same table and come up with some solutions? 

Separation of church and state is not a bad thing, and I'm not advocating by any means a return to the bad old days when it was otherwise. Even so, I can't help but think it wouldn't hurt anything to throw in a couple of other perspectives. When it comes to that, add Cousin Rick to the mix. He's rich, and an atheist; his perspective might come in handy, too. For that matter, it would be a fine idea to take along a couple of ordinary citizens ... you know, the ones who have to live with the consequences of whatever the 'leaders' choose to do.

Back on topic ... I was reading the other day about the hissy fits people were having back when the Scots and Irish were coming over in big numbers. Some wanted to shut that down, too. Fortunately, things were a little different then; there was a lot of space to expand.  But it wasn't all peaches and roses by a long shot and that's a kind of sad fact.

And so I'm reminded of something we tend to forget about. There was a time when such things as 'Orphan Trains' were running. If you don't know about them, look it up. The cities in the east loaded up kids onto trains and sent them west. Many found good homes; some found a lot of really hard work - or was it the other way around? I guess that depends on which perspective you're looking at it from.

Then there were the WPA projects ... make-work for people in need of jobs. A lot of building got done. My Grandad helped to build a railroad; it wasn't in his home state, but he went and did it. And so our family had a little money and a big job got done. The fairgrounds of the county I live in has a beautiful stone building that got built at that time - we use it for all kinds of things.

Am I still on topic?

Yes.

In the past we've found or created solutions to problems. Maybe they weren't ideal solutions but they seem to have at least done a little good along the way.

Populations that weren't particularly welcomed by what was then the 'mainstream' have ended up becoming many of the vertebrae of our backbone, not to mention the strong body attached to that strong back. 

What the heck.

It is my considered opinion that Louis L'Amour ought to be required reading, and Louisa May Alcott, and Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Oh I forgot. 

We don't read any more.

Well then, somebody ought to make movies out of all of the books of those authors, the ones that haven't already been done - and require us all to watch them if we won't read the books.

It would remind those of us who have forgotten, and inform those who have never known, what this nation is supposed to be all about and that freedom comes with a price tag. It would also serve to introduce our nation and our culture to those who wish to join us, so they have some kind of idea about where we've come from. 

No, it isn't necessarily where we're at right now, but for the vast majority of us those books are pretty good indicators of the families whose strengths built this nation. It's only fair to those who come here to know sort of what they're getting themselves into. Don't forget, we're a fairly new nation. Our roots are closer than a body might think.

And I'll get off my soapbox now. I've got a lot of firewood to gather if I don't want to freeze to death during this coming Dakota Long Dark. It's time to put my work boots on and pick up my chain saw.

Even us little old gramma ladies, in these here parts, do what needs doing when it needs doing. There are times when others might pitch in and give us a hand, but we sure as heck don't expect someone else to do every last little thing for us. My young daughter and I re-wired this house. We painted it. We plumbed it. We shingled it. We built a stout fence. Now I'm going to see to it that I can keep myself halfway warm this winter. Those steel-toed work boots in that photo didn't get into the condition they're in by sitting around on a shelf doing nothing. My sister's work boots look about the same - and you should see her work coveralls.

I think my point here with all this blathering about firewood and such (aside from the procrastination factor) is that unless you're ready, willing, and able to wear out a pair of steel-toed work boots you might not quite realize the standards this nation was built on and might want to think about that a little (no, think about it a LOT) if you want to call yourself an American.

If Mama Ain't Happy ...

I want to live in a world where people care

I want to live in a world

where people care

where when something goes wrong

somebody is there 

not to holler and blame

or point fingers of shame

but just to offer a hand

and get something planned

that will make a difference

in somebody's life

instead of fighting and yelling

and feeding the strife.

These Words Are For You: Help Them

These words are for you:

If you’re reading this it’s because you’re supposed to be reading it.

Half of Syria’s civilians have left their homes for a good reason. Almost half of those have left their country for a good reason.

Help them. Help those who are still there to get out.

I tell you: get the civilians out of there because wrath will rain down on that place.

Women, children, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents … get them out of there, all who wish to go.

Yes I know how many are already doing everything they can; and no I’m not some crazy nut. I’m a little old gramma lady in the middle of nowhere who cannot herself go and help, who cannot even contribute but with my Voice.

People who are abusing this situation for your own gain, stop it. Help them; just help them.

People who are able to help but are not, stop dicking around about it and pitch in.

People who are fretting about terrorists coming among us, cut it out already. These are families who are FLEEING terrorism. Do you really think they’re on the side of those from whom they flee? Get real.

From around the globe come the pleas of people like me, for those who can get innocent civilians out of a war zone to do so and to do it quickly. So many have already come out; so many more remain in danger.

If I had the means … alas I do not … perhaps you do … perhaps you will be the one to find a way to help one of those families, just one of them.

And I weep.

I weep for them, and for a world which has allowed such things to come into being.

I weep for Russia.

I weep for the United States.

I weep for China.

I weep for Germany who cannot alone stem this tide. I weep for those who are helping, overwhelmed at every turn.

I weep for Europe.

I weep.

Not that it does any good for me to weep. My tears will not put food into a child’s belly. It will not ease the heart of a mother who fears for her family.

If I’m this affected from so great a distance, how must those be affected who are in the midst of it all?

Already the tide begins to turn; it is in the very air of our world.

‘Hurry, hurry,’ comes the message, through me to you. ‘Help them, help them. Get them out of there.’

If that place is to run red, let it not be with civilian blood, let it not be innocent blood that runs. 

Hurry, hurry. Russia, China, United States, Europe … all who are already pushed to the limit, bear up for a little longer … help is coming.

Can you not feel the rising of the wind? Can you not sense the turning of the tide? Can you not hear the coming of a whirlwind? Can you not see into the hearts of the people of our world, the compassion fused with outrage?

Yes.

If you are reading this, yes you can feel, sense, hear, and see.

If you are reading this and happen to be INFJ, turn not away from the winds that now ride the air, nor from the tides that would overwhelm you, nor from the sound of the whirling wind, nor from the sight of our hearts. Instead, embrace it all, let it pass through you strengthened and send it back out again. Yes I know it hurts. But it passes as it needs to.

Help them.

Get them out of there.

These people too have roles to play in the future of our world; this fragmented nation of civilians in flight from their own homeland, at the mercy of our bigger world.

Show mercy.

Help them.

Hurry.

Uffda. From whence come these words? I cannot help but think they are not entirely mine own. They belong to all of us I think. 

No Wonder I'm Tired

We’ve got Realms 

and dimensions 

and ancient mythology 

and legends 

and creatures 

and Aduan 

and technology 

and the stars 

and quarks instead of quacks 

and nanometer transistors 

and strings 

and a MYSTERY 

and Spirals 

and a Phine Line 

and Guardians 

and History as we thought we knew it 

and the Sidhe and our Characters all mixed up all over the place (and time) running rampant through all of the above.

Geez.

No wonder I’m tired.

9-11 This Year Is A Little Different - INFJ Asks WHY?

Every year just before this day ... 9-11 ... people begin remembering ... call me crazy if you choose but raw emotion in others really does affect me. By now I of course have come to expect it and can sort of kind of prepare as best I can for the 'onslaught'. And yes I am fully aware of the fact that to 98% of the world it sounds like utter drivel. I'm okay with that even if you aren't.

No other event anniversary is anything like this one. 

This is the only day of the year I actually find the self-centered 'It's all about me' people who yammer on Facebook about the most inane things of their little lives (important to them, of course, but generally only irritating for me to hear about constantly) a welcome relief.

While the rest of the world mourns our losses, remembering fresh the events and the unholy impact of that day and of others since, these few remain cocooned in their own little things, and I'm shocked to find myself relieved at those little bits of selfish trivia. 

The power of the emotions of our world, which ought to sear my soul with pain, is surprising me this year. Yes the pain is there - it will always be - but somehow this year it's got a different feel to it. 

This year it's under-laid and overlaid with something else. It took me a bit to figure out what it is. It's got the same sort of tone to it that roared that day - through the pain and shock and grief was American determination, united for once across all barriers. On that day we were simply and completely Americans. Race, religion, gender, life choices, whatever irks us about one another ... on that day they flat out didn't matter. On that day the United States had no hyphens.

Today's sensation, not last night's but today's, bears that same sort of feeling. I think the difference is that it's not just the United States this time. 

Overwhelmingly, I feel from the entire world that strength. Perhaps it's the trigger of 9-11 that brings an awareness of it, I don't know - but I feel the strength building I surely do. As this day advances, people are remembering, and they're thinking not only of 9-11-2001 but of today as well. They're remembering and thinking not only of the Twin Towers but of other places as well.

And, you know, there's not a whole lot of fear in there, not overall. There's rage, but the rage isn't hot and burning. It's cold and deadly and very very dominant. Not unreasoning rage because there's plenty of reason for it. It's as though we're all, all of us, coming to a decision about something. With the steadiness of purpose comes that feeling of strength.

Oh, I'm not explaining this very well and I know it. I'm not sure I CAN find the words for it. But sure as sure can be today is different from the other years. 

I'm getting a calm feeling, coming from all over. Not because people have forgotten but because they haven't. Not because they don't care but because they do care - in some kind of whole new way. Russia, China, Africa, South America, Europe, oh Canada's heart is stern and almost harsh in it's emotion, India, Australia, the British Isles have steel in their eyes on this day, and in their backs, the Isles of the world on this day are steady on, Scandinavia I think feels her power, the might of her ancestors rising ... and I smile inside of myself because We the People of the United States, if we have any sensing of our greater world, are going to soon become aware of our place in the circle of it, if we aren't already.

And no, not ALL are a part of this bigger stronger circle, but we are enough. We are enough. From all around our globe of a world comes this sensation, like a glow of some kind. It is countered, yes - challenged. But is by far the most dominant feeling I'm getting from this day.

For the 98% who think me daft I will grant that perhaps it's no more than wishful dreaming on my part. If dream it is, it is one of such authority that I could not say it nay if I wanted to. Believe me, it is not what I expected to find on this day, but here it is - full-fledged and rising. It will be opposed but it will not fail. It will not fail.

Whoooop!! Gotta Love OSHA Training!

As the time draws near for me to begin stocking firewood for this coming Long Dark I went down to my cutting and storage space.

Yep.

I should have taken a 'before' photo. I had a lot of sawdust and wood chips to sweep up.

This little pile would have been long gone if I were adept at splitting wood. They're too big around to fit into the firebox of my woodstove. I'm lucky there are so few of them.

I think these four lonely little logs will fit when I cut them to length. They were hiding under the big logs.

These average a couple of inches in diameter - they're a great size for cooking.

No shortage of kindling!

Here's my work area for firewood. I don't know what that blur is. Since I had just swept I'd not be surprised to find some little circle dust mote images - but that's not what this was - it was moving.

Whatever it was, it isn't in this shot. What the heck. Strange things happen in this old world of ours.

At any rate, clearing out the firewood room BEFORE adding anything to it is the direct result of old OSHA training ... clear your path before you go to use it. Almost all of that stuff was practically smack in the middle of the floor, not to mention a pretty thick pad of dust and bark and bits and pieces.

Now that my path is cleared, I can begin my gather of firewood - deadwood from a shelter belt on a friend's farm. 

The 'shelter belts' are wind breaks for farmsteads and in this neck of the non-woods are often the only trees to be found in any number. Some of them are generations old. Many have been cut and cleared away as old abandoned farmsteads are razed and turned to cropland. 

So if you ever visit the Great Plains ... no, the trees do not naturally grow in straight lines. Naturally speaking, few grow at all here. In this area the 'Tree Claim Act' of the pioneering and settlement days pretty much failed. People came all right, but they had a darned hard time getting their required trees to survive. Very hot summers, bitterly cold winters, harsh winds ... some trees don't do well in those conditions. We've learned much since then and plant trees all the time. But the old shelter belts from generations past are dying out.

That many of our local farmers still have them is a definite bonus for me. I get firewood; they get rid of deadwood and have healthier shelter belts as a result.

When it comes to the actually gathering of firewood, OSHA training again comes in right handy I have to say. In many ways, but in particular it sticks in my mind to be sure I'll be able to get that deadwood out of there. It behooves me to make a clear path as I go along.

I See The Stars ...

Then sings my soul ...

Security

Too long ago now, I worked at a casino in Cripple Creek, Colorado (USA).

There hasn't been a moment since I left that I haven't missed it, some times a lot more than others, but there's always a hole nothing else can fill.

Not having been a patroness of casinos in general, it was a new world for me and I was extremely fortunate to find myself a home at Johnny Nolon's. I'm a writer but, you know, I'm not sure there are words to describe exactly what that place - even more, the 'family' - means to me even now years past. It was home; we were family. 

But before I get all maudlin I'll get to the point of this post (I heard that 'whew'!)

One of the things I wasn't sure I would be comfortable with was the security.

A small town girl just isn't used to being on camera ALL THE TIME. Not just one camera, mind you - I worked in what they refer to as 'the cage', and there were like five cameras on us at all times, from all different angles. Hunter, in his lair, kept an eye on scads more than just those. The whole place was under his beady eyes. Floor security people roamed around as well, adding their human eyes to the electronic ones monitored by Hunter in his lair.

As it turned out I soon almost forgot about the cameras. Fretting about the perfection of my hair or whether or not my shirt was tucked in straight didn't last long. There was way too much else to focus on.

One day I'll post stories about some of the things Hunter and his electronic eyes came in handy for, but not tonight I think.

Tonight I'm thinking about the times since then that I've sorely missed those all-seeing eyes. You would think they would feel intrusive but it wasn't like that at all. They did indeed provide us with security. When I finally moved up to the Crick after having had a LOOOONG commute, I found myself appreciating the fact that those cameras kept an eye on me almost all the way home. I lived directly across the street from the Johnny Nolon's parking lot and Hunter could see me safely home from the comfort of his lair. There's a significant reassurance in that.

I didn't quite realize how much I had come to depend on Hunter and his electronic eyes, and the sense of security they provided, until I wanted to confirm something at a subsequent job and got blank stares when I asked about the cameras. Oh. Oh yeah. Duh. Dang. WTH

There have been a lot more than a few times I've missed those eyes, I tell you true.

I've also missed having security personnel around, just in case. As a general rule those guys (and gals) were more prevention than intervention but if/when needed they were BANG right there within seconds. And I'll tell you something: if Big John and Zeus (not his real name but if the shoe fits wear it sez I and that man could have easily filled the boots of Zeus) suggested that a person leave the premises post-haste, said person wasn't likely to stop to debate the meaning of the word 'haste'.

Now I have Duke, a big White Shepherd.

He's darned handy. Never in his life started a fight or indulged any other dog who wanted one (although I have to say no dog ever pushed the issue too hard), never threatened anybody unless you call a bit of a warning growl a threat. 

When we travel he gets lots of attention because he's flat out a gorgeous animal - but unless I said so nobody ever got too close, either. Just sayin'. Nice and sweet as he is, he does have that look about him, the one that says, 'Take care now, okay?' 

So at home or when we're out and about I'm well protected. But Duke isn't Hunter, nor does he have as many eyes, nor is he allowed to accompany me to work.

Yeh.

Kinda miss that kind of security at times I do.

I miss a lot of things about Johnny Nolon's and try not to think about it too much or too often as it tends to make me weep.

Taking a Stand

We see things on line all the time, inspirational ditties, encouraging photos, touching stories, and we share the heck out of them, hoping their messages are getting through to the people who need to hear them.

I write books. 

So what, you want to know.

So what?

For me the words I write, and especially the ones I publish, reflect something inside of me - they aren't just words to fill up dialogues in scenes.

So if I'm faced with a situation where I have to make a decision, my own words haunt me. The Characters of those books take their stands again and again and again because it's the right thing to do.

Every time we see some little thing that one person is doing to harm another in any way, whether it's name-calling, belittling, physical, or any other kind of mean thing, we get a chance to prove ourselves. Nobody is likely to know the difference if we choose to just let it go, pretend we didn't hear or see or know, and sweep it under some rug in our mind. It's a personal, private, choice.

The thing about that is this:  Every time we let something go, we're just strengthening the guilty and our silence adds to the harm. When a person has been hurt and nobody stands up for them, what message do you suppose they're getting? When a person harms another and nobody stands up to them, what message are they getting? When you let something go, what message are you giving to yourself?

Your answers are your own, for your own self to think about.

Mine are already on the public record. Every time - from the moment Drustann and Alianora took their stand in the very first book of SONG and thought they were all alone, to the unity at the end of DANANN - every one of those times binds me to follow the lead of the Characters I write about.

But, I tell myself, the Characters always have one another. They never have to take their stand all alone. I don't have anyone to stand with me ... so I hesitate. I'm not sure I'll be able to handle being alone if I take a stand.

Well now.

For starters, how alone do you think that person feels, the one who is being harmed while nobody comes to stand up for them? If I stand up for them, they are no longer alone and neither am I. A third person might see us standing together and come to stand with us. Another one might see our little group and come too.

Lots of time, even just one person taking a stand alongside of another will be more than enough to make a bully stand down. Add another to the equation, and another, and another ... the message becomes clear. We don't behave that way here. We tell you 'NO' and we mean it. You will not harm others.

One person alone who believes nobody will come to stand up for them is likely to just keep on taking whatever gets dished up to them. Fear is a paralyzing thing, something that can and does and will keep a person from standing up for himself or herself.

I tell you this: you cannot advise someone to 'stand up for yourself' and then turn and walk away. Unless you are ready, willing, and able to take your own stand alongside of them you'd best keep your yap shut and go hide in a hole somewhere because you've just done harm to someone already hurt. You have swept them under the rug along with whatever else you have deemed rubbish.

Who among us has never felt all alone, hurt and afraid, thinking that even if anyone knew they wouldn't come to stand up for us?

Hmmm?

I've felt that way and I bet you have too at least once in your life.

What would you have given for even the hope of one person standing up for you?

If by chance someone in your life has once stood up for you, you are bound by that person's choice to choose likewise when it comes your turn to either take a stand or stand aside.

The Characters of SONG are not creations of a fertile imagination. They are based on people I have known and now know.

From DANANN:
"... believe you me, we intend to ... put a stop to this ... "
"What if it's dangerous?"
"Then it's dangerous. We will do what we have to do when we have to do it. Our ... own ... will not be treated thus, not if we can help it."

The above words are not a direct quote from any particular person of my acquaintance. They are a distillation of the essence of the determination of many I've been lucky to have known ... and in direct opposition to others who want only to sweep things under a rug already lumpy with what's under it, to minimize, sugar-coat, ignore.

Yeah.

See, the problem with sweeping things under that rug is that they stay there. Eventually they build up and make lumps under the rug, and grow into big wrinkles and such that people trip over, even the ones who swept them under there. It gets to where people don't want to risk walking on that rug for fear of what all's under it. They can't see it but they feel it.

Sometimes it's little things; sometimes it's important stuff ... whichever, the accumulation is inevitable and so is the fact that one day the rug will have to be taken up for cleaning.

Every time we let something slide, every time we stand aside, every time we look away we're adding to the collection that's growing under our rug. And we begin to stumble over the lumps and wrinkles.

Comes a day when it's time to clean house, folks. All of those things we so carefully swept aside under the rug, they're going to be a foul find indeed.

One day I'm going to have to clean under that rug and I will find all those things I let slide, I'm going to see all of the times I stood aside, and I'm going to see all the times I looked the other way.

And so are you.

So are you.

I know I'm guilty. Mea Culpa. I can't change the past, but I can stop sweeping stuff under that rug today. 

For once, just for one time, let today be the day that you don't let it slide, you don't stand aside, you don't look the other way.

'What if it's dangerous?'
'Then it's dangerous.'

'Do what you have to do when you have to do it.'

One day you might be the one all alone. Be the person who chooses to stand up for someone else, because one day you will be that someone else. Do you want to be swept under a rug?

William Carlos Williams 1883-1963

“The Red Wheelbarrow”

so much depends 
upon 

a red wheel 
barrow 

glazed with rain 
water 

beside the white 
chickens

2015 09 07

2015  09  07
1500

A few days of high stress and intense emotional trauma leaves me feeling as though I've taken a physical beating. All I want to do is sleep; heaven knows I didn't get any rest last night.

Begin to Become

Last night I found a comment thread in which someone asked if Pope Francis is 'for real'. The conversation was between others so I simply read it with interest and didn't jump in.

It did, however, spark my brain synapses enough so that I woke up this morning with the question in my mind.

Not being an expert on anything in this world, let alone the Church, all I can do is think about the question, ponder it, patter a bit, and let it be.

I want to say, 'I was raised Baptist and have strong Quaker leanings; what do I care about the Pope?'

But the question, it seems to me, isn't only just about the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church.

In that question I sense a tentative, fragile, hope.

And it makes my heart ache, it does.

Nobody asks if the Dalai Lama is for real; they don't have to. Buddhism, to the best of my admittedly limited knowledge, hasn't spent a couple of millenniums trying to bully the world or to rule it. Nobody has to wonder if their leader is 'for real'; they already know he is, even if they've never met the guy.

Me, I would like to meet this Pope Francis.

Why?

Well, because I'm curious, too.

And I'm INFJ, a 'people reader' so to speak.

Not that it matters, not really.

Still, it would be nice to find out for myself if the man is 'for real'; he is perhaps a very good actor on the stage of our world; maybe he's a 'puppet pope'; maybe he's ambitious and happens to have a glib tongue. On the other hand, it may well be that he sincerely has a grasp on what Jesus really meant by what He said way back when and truly does want to see that (finally) begin to become 'for real', the way it was supposed to have been all along.

Again, it doesn't really matter. Although it would be nice to find in this man the essence of the Holy Spirit, it isn't particularly required.

Don't jump all over me for saying that. We live in a politically charged world and we are polarized whether we would will it or no. Most people aren't going to really deep down give a hoot if this guy is 'holy' or not. 

They (we) want to see positive changes happening; we want something, someone, to believe in. Unfortunately for Jesus (or maybe He planned it this way who knows) His people seem to have acquired characteristics which may not be altogether in tune with His instructions. When the head of 'His' biggest and most powerful Church comes across in such a positive way that people find themselves asking : This Pope Francis, is he for real? : another question rises. Why the suspicion? And the answer to that is writ large in all of the history books.

But we do not have the past.

We live in the present.

Whether Pope Francis is himself 'for real', his words and actions are. The world in which we live can wonder all they want about the man. What is not in question is the message he seems to be trying to convey. What a challenge it must be for him, after so many centuries of hurt and pain and controversy, to try to bring Jesus' instructions to fruition. He's swimming against the tide with courage and tenacity.

Whether the Church, weakening for a long time now, has found a new strength we have no way of knowing. Whether it has, at this late date, finally come to understand that men cannot be God, we don't know.

And, you know, it honestly doesn't matter. Sometimes things work in strange ways.

People have asked me many times why I sing all the time. They tell me how nice it is to have such a happy person around.

What they don't know is that many times I sing not because I am happy but because I want to become happy. The Song often helps that to begin to become. The 'happy' is in there always; sometimes it needs for me to seek it. And so yeah, I sing. The effect it has on the people who happen to hear and appreciate the Song adds to the 'happy' as it begins to become. Next thing you know I am indeed singing because I am happy. The whole process kind of becomes a habit. It helps to balance the bad that is ever-present and at times threatens to overwhelm.

Anyway, we can't know for sure whether Pope Francis is 'for real', but we can know that the Song we're hearing from him is. Like the people who respond to someone who sings as they work, we respond to this man's Song. 

He is reminding us of something that was supposed to have been always, something we've too many times lost sight of, lost faith in, lost hope for. And deep inside of us we recognize it when we do see it.

And we respond with that tentative, fragile, hope.

Could it be? Against all odds, against the tide of our world, could it be? Might this man truly be 'for real'? Our hope is tentative. It is fragile. But it exists in places within our very selves that we have long forgotten. If this one man, this Pope Francis, might be 'for real' then so too might our hope be 'for real'. And we might actually have a chance of finding it, of hanging on to it, too.

Just as the 'happy' is in there always, waiting for me to seek it, so too does Hope wait within us each and all. 

As we first hear the Song and then begin to sing along, others hear us and their own responses and voices strengthen it - and we together begin to become as we were meant to be. 

Do not, deliberately or otherwise, misinterpret my words. I am not advocating a sudden sweeping mass migration to the folds of the Roman Church, believe me I'm not. What I'm saying is to be aware, to seek and find the 'happy', the Hope, that might be dormant inside of you. Sing so others can hear you, even if your Voice, like mine, might not be opera quality. Watch for, listen to, the responses of others - those responses will come and they will make you stronger. As you begin to become what you sing, so too will those around you.

So yes, people, Pope Francis is for real. So is the Dalai Lama. So am I and so are you and so is Hope. Against all odds, against the tide of our world, against all who would crush it, Hope begins to become 'for real'. Nurture it within your own self and it will survive, it will grow, it will spread, it will prevail. If we fail, there will be no balance for our world, and then what?