notes from the last day of the frenzy...

Random thoughts after looking at fivethirtyeight.com for the zillionth time in the last month or so...

Over a year ago I was saying there was way too much emphasis on the presidential election, but a few weeks ago I found myself caught up in following every word, every pundit, every poll. All the major polls are bookmarked in my browser, and I had a Mac-style sticky note on the screen to tell me what time each poll came out daily.

I've been twittered to death, and likely twittered some people to death. I've been swamped with email, and probably have sent some people more political email than they ever wanted to read. A lot of those people, I'm sure, automatically tossed the mail after reading the subject line. I know a few of them had no intention of voting. I'm very sad about that.

We voted absentee - something available "without cause" in Florida - and we both hope our ballots weren't lost and will be counted tomorrow. We've listened to some friends talk about the lines they experienced waiting to vote.

A neighbor was thrilled to see the Obama 08 sign in our front window, and asked Mikal if we were voting for him. Mikal assured him we'd already voted... and Jacques was thrilled to hear it. Perhaps he, a black man, thought we, a bordering on senior citizen white couple, wouldn't vote for a 'person of color.'

The best story was at a party Saturday evening, where we gathered to remember our ancestors -- talking to Pearl and Ed, a late-60's or so black couple with whom my friend Bill works. They attended Obama's rally here last Wednesday night, in Sunrise, FL - about 15 minutes from our home. The enthusiasm, the joy and exuberance that radiated from Pearl and Ed was almost palpable. Pearl told me the audience, at one point, started the "wave" and Ed had to help her to her feet to participate, but she wasn't going to miss it. They waited in line over 3 hours to be part of what I hope will be history in the making.

So, on this Monday night, I'm weary of it all, and looking forward to 24 hours from now, when the first reports of voting results will start to come in. Were I still prone to biting my nails, they'd be down to the quick now.

Were I a praying sort, I'd pray for the outcome I desire.

sick of guilt by association

IN THE LATE 60'S and early 70's I was very much against the Vietnam War. I protested, I attended anti-war meetings and rallies. I did all I could - at that young age - to add my voice to the growing chorus of dissent. I remember the Weathermen group then, and remember supporting their views, though not violent action.

It must be, then, that I am anti-American or - at the least - supportive of terrorist views. After all, it sure seems to me that guilt by association is the theme of the RNC.

William Ayers is a college professor and highly respected in the city of Chicago today. Did he say he wished he had bombed more? He did. Why? We don't know, but I suspect he still does not agree with the government. It's important to know that Ayers was NEVER convicted of crimes. It's also important to know the William Ayers of 1970 is not the William Ayers of 2008.

Violence is never the right course of action, and I support peaceful dissent. It seems to me that even peaceful dissent is not even acceptable these days -- witness 15 anti-war protesters arrested this past week outside Hofstra University the night of the last presidential debate. Not a big item in the news.

The America we live in today is not the America we lived in 20 years ago. The middle class works harder for less money and fewer benefits, while large corporation CEOs make millions. Small companies and businesses struggle to keep their staff on board, to pay their healthcare benefits. There's something really wrong here. We need change. We need the people of this country to be heard. We need to stand up for what we believe, make our voices heard about unfair policies and doctrines. We need to help our fellow citizens make it through these tough times.

Politicians say that those who oppose their views are anti-American. I counter that. I say those of us who speak out are, perhaps, MORE American that those would lie about others in order to win their office, and attempt to silence us with techniques of fear.

I love my country. I'd like to see it return to a place of respected position in this world. It's time for change. I have already cast my ballot.

on politics

THE POLITICAL BRUHAHA GOES ON this week in St. Paul, Minnesota. This week, like last week, many Americans listed to a lot of rhetoric, politicians telling the American people what they think they want to hear. It's a broad brushing of what they are going to do for us, that same broad brushing that goes away right after the first Tuesday in November.

I'd like to be hopeful about something, but it's difficult. My concern lies in the future: I want to see the planet preserved for generations to come; my tax dollars spent on helping other Americans rather than the world, part of which we have destroyed; a solution to the healthcare crisis; and an opportunity for all Americans to live what was called, when I was young, the American Dream.

My dad -- my moral compass -- taught two very basic lessons both by example and in conversation. First, be nice to others, and they'll be nice to you. On a personal level I have always found this to be true. Sadly, religion against religion, government against government -- our leaders get in the way of us being nice to other citizens of the world. There are misguided zealots and power-hungry take-it-all leaders, but they are the exception, not the norm. I like to think that applies to people in this country, too. The second lesson revolved around working hard to earn a living and be rewarded with a happy life. I work hard. Always have given more than 100% of my energy in any position I've had. Still, I find myself at this rapidly approaching senior citizen age not having enough in this pitiful economy. I work for a terrific startup company, and they do well for us, but I know they have felt the tightening of the belt, too.

So, what will we see come January? Will any of the promises made be fulfilled? I think if 25% of them are, we'll be lucky. What do you think?

on hate

Perhaps you've seen them, or pictures of them, protesting at the funerals -- of military people, people in the news, gays and more -- and other events, holding up signs emblazoned with sayings such as "You're going to hell," "God hates you," "God is your enemy," and one of the worst of them, "God hates fags." They're representatives of that wonderful bastion of family values, the Westboro Baptist Church. The church, founded by Fred Phelps, takes it upon itself to intrude on mourners with their dire messages of hate and warning, thinking they are serving up the word of God as it should be interpreted.

Last week the Winnipeg Free Press, of Winnipeg, Canada, reported Canadian border officials stopped members of Westboro at the US/Canada border, on the way to protest at the funeral of Tim McLean. The Westboro members were determined to protest at McLean's funeral to let the Canadian people know he was murdered on a Greyhound bus as God's response to the hateful Canadian policies enabling abortion, adultery and homosexuality.

Readers will know I'm not Christian. They may not know, though, that I fully support the teachings of Jesus. In my opinion, the greatest of Christ's teachings is that of love and I interpret that teaching to mean loving everyone, without question, even those we may consider enemies.

I have to wonder what will happen to Fred Phelps and his followers when they get to heaven, as after all the Bible teaches: "For if you forgive men for their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. "But if you do not forgive men, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions. (NAS, Matthew 6:14-15)

The Bible does teach the only way to heaven is through the acceptance of Christ into your life and through the following of Christian teachings, and I'm certainly not expecting a warm welcome at the pearly gates. Really, that's ok with me -- I like to think I'll be reincarnated, anyway. But what about the Westboro folks? Can hate of someone different than you -- who chooses _not_ to have an unwanted child, who suffers through a young life attracted to the same sex, knowing they are different and wondering if they will ever find acceptance, or who strays from their marriage bed -- be that strong that you feel compelled to hold up signs exhibiting that hate at their funeral, causing all those who are mourning even more pain? Apparently so; the Westboro faithful believe they are following the five points of Calvinism. They firmly believe anyone preaching other than these Calvinist beliefs is a "Hell-bound false prophet."

I don't pretend to know the truth. It may well be that the Christian faith is the only right faith, though I don't really think so. I like to think that Jesus really did teach that you should love your neighbor, and I hope that most of his followers feel the same way.

What's your take?

the end of the day

The sky of our beautiful planet always interests me, whether it be a clear blue of a perfect day, a storm-clouded threat, or filled with fair weather cumulus clouds. Sometimes, though, the sky can take one's breath away.

Just across the desk from where I type is a small window to the world - the window that looks out upon the parking lot of the condo building where I reside. The usual view is a lot of sky, trees, the building across the lot and various vehicles, and the plants just outside the window where butterflies often drop by to feed. I can see storms coming in, birds flying over, and the neighbors come and go.

Most of the time the view is rather mundane, though nature's creatures always tend to brighten my day as they pass the little window. Every once and a while, though, the view catches my eye and insists I grab the camera and step outside the door. Last evening's sunset was one such occasion. In the window's frame were altocumulus and cirrus clouds tinted with shades of pink and orange.

Camera to hand, and with a call to my husband to join me, I dashed outside to watch the sunset unfold. Words are never sufficient to express the beauty of Mother Nature -- certainly, they can paint a reasonable description, but never really fill the mind's eye with the spectacular sight. Our neighbor came out to see what we were doing and for just a minute appreciated the beauty of the sky, too, before beginning to chat with us.

One of the photos I shot is attached. As always, I am in awe of the beauty that surrounds us. We often forget nature as we go through our busy days, and it seems to me our focus on work, the accumulation of things and what goes on inside the walls around us is often more important than sustaining the beauty and environment of our spinning blue and green globe.

Sometimes, you just have to stop what you're doing and step out into nature. It is key to who and what we are.

catch the wind...

Almost every morning, before starting the work day, I can be found looking for enviro-centric news to share with others who share my interests in alternate, renewable resource development and preserving precious bits of nature for future generations.

Given the ever-increasing interest in wind turbine development and wind farming as evidenced by the growing numbers over at the Pickens Plan community, it was a pleasant surprise to read, in today's New York Times, of a renewed interest in the restoration of old windmills in the Netherlands.

While these beautiful old structures grind grain rather than produce energy, it was interesting to learn the rapid changes in the Netherlands due to immigration and ever-advancing globalization have caused many of the Dutch people to look toward a return to their roots.

Additionally, it seems the slow food movement may play a part in this as well, as there seems to be a resurgence of interest in traditional food and drink. A baker indicated the windmill-ground grains used in his product produce a bread with a fuller, richer flavor.

In a world where we go ever faster and grow more and more connected, it was a treat to read about the restoration of the beautiful old testaments to Dutch ingenuity. It seems there is a value to be found in early technology, after all.

thinking, researching, going beyond the topline...

Perhaps it's time to talk about a subject near and dear to my heart - thinking. Odd thought, says you? Perhaps, but here's why.

Many of us spend a lot of time on this thing called the Internet. Some of us for fun, some based on a specific agenda, others to earn a living (like me!) and those who simply read and watch from the privacy of their homes.

There are a lot of sources and possibilities - way too many to count. You can Google, check out Wikipedia, look for groups formed around a particular issue, surf the blogosphere for points of view and even visit that great, modern amalgam of links to all things newsworthy, Alltop (thanks Guy K!); all these things can inform your opinion. But, therein is the crux - while they can inform your opinion, it's critical they don't create your opinion. To do that, you must think.

Sure, it's easy to hop aboard the popular opinion of the day and adopt it as your own. Can you speak about the opinion knowledgeably? Do you understand the underlying facts and issues behind that opinion? What are the pros and cons?

Recently I've jumped on what I hope will be an ever-faster moving train, the Pickens Plan. I listened to several people who said Pickens was missing the point, that other sources - solar, geo-thermal, hydrogen - need to be part of the equation. They are, one has to just look below the surface and pretty pictures of wind turbines. A compadre asked that I look at some of the underlying reasoning for why Pickens is pushing the plan - to gain further land rights, which will help him in an effort to create a water pipeline from the Texas panhandle into the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. As I'm sure water scarcity will, at some point in the future, create a lot of battles for water rights, I find this a bit disconcerting. Realistically, I knew in my heart this oil man hadn't suddenly found himself altruistic. However, as a firm believer in working toward the development and use of alternative, renewable power sources and applications, after consideration I still deem Pickens plan to be a viable one, and, more importantly, something which stands a chance at real grass roots support, and one has potential to get the American people unified in the goal to release us from the bonds of MidEast oil.

I simply attempt to illustrate, above, that there was thought behind my decision to join Pickens and his plan. As I grow older, I try to put careful thought behind all important decisions. The time for following the crowd is long past, at least for me. It is my hope that others might feel the same way.

There are many thoughtful, intelligent, creative, hard-working people in America. We deserve, based upon our contributions, better than what we're getting from a government run by self-serving corporations, particularly when so many of them are guided by that barrel of oil.

Think about it.

saving gas, one drop at a time

As I drive around town - and, admittedly, it's less and less these days - I am continually amazed by those who tear past me to the next stop light in a rush to get there from here, those who take off like the proverbial bat out of hell from a stop, and those who wait til the last possible minute and step hard on the brake pedal.

Certainly they are finding the cost of a fill up as painful as I do - aren't they?

There are simple techniques everyone can use to get the most out of a gallon of gas. Slow acceleration, gradual stopping, and driving highways at 55 rather than 65, 70 or faster can prevent reducing your mileage by up to 33% on highways and 5% around town. Do you really need to be there in such a hurry?

Keep tires inflated to the proper pressure and the vehicle well-tuned. Remove that excess weight. Stuck at a light you know to be ridiculously long? Turn off the engine if it's safe. Using cruise control, which keeps the vehicle at a constant speed, helps to save gas. Be sure to replace the air filter regularly, and use the recommended grade of oil.

Plan your trips in a circuitous manner, and try to make as many right turns, so as to avoid waiting for lights, as possible. Careful planning, to minimize trips to the grocery, bank and other errands, will keep pennies in your pocket, rather than in the gas tank.

Lastly, get onboard actions supporting alternative fuel sources. The solution to the current gasoline pinch isn't digging for more oil, but rather finding ways to reduce our dependence on it by encouraging and supporting the development of alternative fuel sources. My pet project currently is the Pickens Plan. It's not the only answer, but it is a big step, and we can use as many efforts to create alternative power sources as possible.

overfishing

LAST EVENING, AN NBC NEWS STORY brought it home with one simple question... how many pounds of seafood are taken from our oceans every day? The answer simply blew me away. One-half a billion pounds. 

Fishing methodology has a lot to do with it. Bottom trawling can "reel in" many species that should have stayed in the water. Globally, fishing fleets are much larger than is necessary to take in fish and other species, particularly as to what the oceans can sustainably support. Consider this... according to the group overfishing.org, globally the fishing fleet is large enough to cover four Earth-like planets!

According to one source on the NBC news program on the subject, 90% of the large fish are gone. The most serious of these is one of the world's favorites, the bluefin tuna. 52% of the world's fish stocks are fully exploited, says overfishing.org - they are at their maximum sustainable production level. 17% are over exploited, with 7% depleted.

What can we do? Education about the issue is the first step. 

Refrain from eating those fish you know to be in danger. The Monterey Bay Aquarium has a good guide on the subject, here. 

Contact  your governmental representatives and talk up the issue. Remember to mention that habitat protection is one of the keys, and that fishermen and fleets need to be monitored -- fine those who violate the laws, making it uneconomic to cheat. 

Tell your friends. Ask them to jump onboard. 

I'd like to think I will still be able to eat tuna 20 years from now. Wouldn't you?

smokey t cat

HE CREPT INTO MY LIFE on soft grey paws, an orphaned kitten; skinny, hungry and looking for affection. That first couple of days he crawled all over me while I sat at my office desk, or when we went home. Clearly, he was happy to have a person of his own.

My son loved him and named him Smokey, which described him perfectly as he was the color of deep smoke rising from the fire. I suppose RavenHawk was about 7 or 8 then -- time has a way of blurring details of the past.

Our life as a family was a pretty happy one, once Smokey settled in. He was curious, as cats are wont to be, and he wanted to be around, though eventually he determined that it was perfectly ok to pet him, but he certainly didn't want to be held. RavenHawk learned his favorite scratching place was under the chin and we all gave him plenty of those kinds of scratches.

The years flew by, and our lives changed. My marriage, to Raven's dad, hadn't been good for quite a while and we grew further apart. I met someone who I ended up falling in love with, and eventually marrying... Smokey came along with me after a brief struggle as to who would hold ownership. 

A creature of very set habit, Smokey didn't like his new home at first. He found a hidey-hole behind the laundry, and stayed there for a few weeks, only sneaking out occasionally. Eventually, though, he got comfy with his new surroundings. Then, the unthinkable - a new cat, yet another foundling, joined the household. She was the boss, and swiftly let Smokey know it. His home for a year was the room we used as an office; his litter box and food were in there and he dared not step beyond the door. 

At last that feline relationship stabilized to one of uneasy truce, and Smokey grew brave, coming out more and more often, until he felt comfortable enough to rejoin the rest of us and live in the whole house. Frosty, the interloper, never let him forget she was superior, though, and regularly served up her punishment for his transgression of living in her space.

RavenHawk finished high school and after a few uneasy months moved north to live with his grandmother. I think Smokey missed him early on, he'd spend time in the room Raven had called his own quite a bit.

More years passed, and we were a comfortable family. He was always happy when I sat down at my desk in the morning, or when we came home if we'd been out. I presumed he still had a number of years left, and guess it's been about 16 years since the orphan came home with me that first day.

Aways a healthy cat, last week we were surprised when Smokey started to walk a bit oddly, and then stopped eating. Each day his balance seemed worse, and he withdrew from his regular daily routine -- jumping up on my desk for treats, onto the bathroom sink for fresh water and spending lots of time at the food bowl. Early this week his balance was clearly disturbed, and he walked less and less. 

Yesterday, after a day of no water and no movement, as he simply seemed unable to walk at all, he was a shadow of his former self. He allowed me to hold him, and carry him about without complaint. In the evening he had a horrible seizure, and we knew the end was near.

I spent the last hour or so of his life on the floor sitting next to him, stroking him and talking with him. He seemed as peaceful as one could be who was so near death's door -- indeed, whether he knew the end was near or not we'll never know. Suddenly, he took some deep, shuddering breaths, and his feet twitched slightly as I scratched his head. Then, his side rose no more... the end had come, the last breath had been taken. I waited a few minutes to confirm the truth my eyes denied before I said something to my husband.

Many of us anthropomorphize our animals, assigning them human traits just because it is our understanding of feeling and emotion, and we think our pets have feelings and emotions as well. I like to think that Smokey was comforted in that last hour, and that he knew how much I, and Mikal, loved him, my "handsome boy," as I so affectionately called him. I wish Raven could have been there too, to say his goodbyes.

This morning he was sent on his next journey which began deep in our garden, nourished by the treats we buried with him to send him on his way. I was touched by my husband's suggestion that we give him food for the long journey to places unknown that he had started upon. We both were in tears, saying goodbye. 

My beliefs tell me Smokey and I will cross paths again, one day. I hope it is so. I know I'll look for signs of him in each fuzzy, fat grey cat whose path I cross. 

I miss you already, my handsome boy, and I love you. 

thoughts on Beltaine and spring

With May 1 just a few days away, the wheel has once again spun 'round to our favorite seasonal festival, Beltaine. For those unfamiliar, contemporary Pagan practice honors the early Celtic spring fertility festival which signifies the return of the growing and procreating season -- to the northern hemisphere, anyway -- at this time of year. 

As we have done for the last 10 years, we'll be off to celebrate the holiday at a long camping weekend with many other Pagan-folk from Florida and other environs. Florida Pagan Gathering is a four-day (five if you're a staff member, like myself) get-together of like-minded folks in the beautiful, natural setting of the Ocala National Forest in central Florida. As always, we'll pitch our tent, inflate the air mattress, set up our "ez-up" for shade, fill the coolers and crank up the cookstoves for the weekend. We'll attend some workshops, do some drumming and maybe join the nightly drum circle by the bonfire, listen to a Pagan band or two, and relax with friends old and new. We're certain to tip back more than just a few microbrews and bottles of mead, too. 

I love the sandhill cranes that live along the lake in the Ocala forest. Each morning, way too early to be sure, you can hear them screeching to each other as they prepare to take wing. They're huge birds, and watching them soar overhead is a beautiful sight to behold. Other denizens of the forest -- squirrels, butterflies, cardinals and many other feathered and furry friends -- will delight us with their antics as well. Unfortunately, with all this beauty comes a downside as we'll be eaten by mosquitos and on the lookout for ticks burrowing into our skin.

A favorite experiences has to be the one held under cover of darkness.  No, not _that_ experience! So far from the ambient light of the Florida coast we'll take time to gaze upward and be amazed at the vast number of stars we see. Living on the very urban south Florida coast, we almost forget how many stars dust the heavens with their soft light. 

Spring in south Florida tiptoes in and if you don't watch carefully you'll miss it. There are trees which shed their leaves to take on a new garment of green in April; flowering trees that don yellows, magentas and purples in honor of the season; vines which slowed their growth during the 'winter' send out new tendrils; birds sing out in search of a new mate and to mark their territories; and the butterflies busily flit from leaf to leaf of their favored plant as they leave an egg, or cluster of eggs, behind. 

The monarch butterflies have been particularly busy in our butterfly garden and our milkweed, the plant the monarch larva feed on, is decimated. Polydamus swallowtails have been chomping on the Dutchman's pipe and evidence of their feasting litters the ground below the vine. 

This is my favorite time of year, for many reasons. My husband and I met for the first time in person to attend a Beltaine festival, we handfasted and eventually tied the knot, legally, at Beltaine. That's one of the reasons we continue to go to the gatherings... it reminds us, each time, of the first time we met. For a few days at the beginning of May he is my Lord of the Forest and I his Lady of the Wild Things... fanciful romantics that we are. And too, the changes in nature mentioned above, while not as spectacular as the drastic changes in more northerly climes, reminds us that life is ever a cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth. The planet goes on that way... and so do our lives. 

May your Beltaine and spring be filled with beauty.

in a dither...

Courtesy of Google alerts, each day I have an opportunity to peruse new articles on the web related to witch, witches, Pagan, Pagans and an assortment of other similar words. While often there are some gems among the selections, many are about modern-day witch hunts, witch doctors, the musical "Wicked" and the like. 

One stood out from the crowd recently under the simple headline "Phillies speaks out in support of witchcraft and Wicca", not for the support of our beliefs by Libertarian Presidential candidate George Phillies but rather a comment from one who read the story: "And the wiccan thing. My parish (or county, for you guys) just passed an ordinance outlawing "Witchcraft." Frankly, this seemingly offhanded remark floored me -- a county government outlawing witchcraft in these days and times? 

Given the clause in the First Amendment about the government not making any laws with respect to establishment of religion, it seems clear that witchcraft, from the perspective of these lawmakers, is not a religious system. Indeed, many of those who wear the self-title "witch" are not religious practitioners. Yet, there are those of us who do include religious aspects in our practice, and it is this type of legislation we must be aware of. 

To condemn any group for practice of their beliefs, be they spiritual or more in the metaphysical realm, opens the door to further discriminatory action. It is important to keep an eye on actions of this nature, eroding the rights of some of our fellow citizens; indeed, it is exactly as citizens in the "land of the free" that we must be certain none of our rights are withdrawn.

Spring Tiptoes In...

In Florida, spring is a bit of a let-down. Sure, there are a couple of trees which shed leaves and starts sending out new buds and shoots. The tabubea tree opens lovely, brilliant yellow blooms. Birds sing more frequently, and can be seen gathering little bits for their nests as they fly hither and yon.

It's not the same as the appearance of the season in more northerly climes. No sunny, cheery daffodills raise their trumpets to the sun; no fragrance of hyacinth fills the air; no pussy willows, or crocus, or tulips. The snow doesn't disappear followed by a sudden awakening to Mother Nature's gown of brilliant green. 

But still, it is all a part of the circle of life. The birth of new life in the spring follows the death of autumn and hibernation of winter, as it always has and as it always will. 

With changes in the global climate, spring is being observed earlier each year. There are organizations tracking this now, and Mother Nature is donning her spring duds about ten days earlier, worldwide. This will affect species, some of which will move their habitat somewhat further north.  I suspect I'll harp on this subject often - the time for action is now.

put down the party hat and walk away...

Just like a flash, New Year's Eve came and went. As usual, we got together with friends to ring in the new and bid adieu to the old. It was a lovely south Florida night - temperatures in the low 70s, just about cool enough for a small fire in the fire pit on our friend's patio.

Fireworks supplied aural and visual entertainment throughout the evening, as neighbors exploded bottle rockets, small arial bursts and firecrackers, among other noise-making items. After eating from the "we always put out too much food" buffet, we sat and chatted as the clock ticked away the minutes 'til the New Year's baby arrived. At the appropriate hour I offered blessings of the Gregorian calendar year to all in attendance. We've got to follow it, as its the way the world turns, but I'd really rather go to a lunar based system, it makes more sense for me.

Resolutions? I've never been terribly good at sticking to those. There are some things I want to do... develop a more focused spiritual practice on a regular basis, keep my fingers on my crafts projects, and -- perhaps -- begin work on a photography project that popped into my head a few days ago. Of course work will take up much of my time as it always does -- I tend to be a workaholic. I'm going to do my best, though, to not spend as much time at the keyboard. 'Tis making me a dull gal, methinks.

So, with thoughts of the Gregorian year ahead, I offer all praise to Artemis, Lady of the Wild Things and Protectress of Women and the Young Ones. May her arrows fly true when necessary, and may she shelter those who need it from the storms of life. I hope to walk in your wild lands more often in the 363 days ahead.