Kerry blames Bush for (fill in blank)

Campaign promises and campaign criticism are in the same vein, aren't they? Both untrue, both extreme, both said in an attempt to get elected. I'm personally sick of Kerry's constant criticism of Bush.

First, there's nothing easier that criticising the job someone else is doing. If he does end up with the job himself, he'll find it's not quite as easy as he makes it sound. But you know what? Kerry should know that already. He's been a senator for twenty years. He should know how hard it is to get the job done. Or has he not been paying attention?

Second, Kerry's criticism is generally untrue. He leaves out half the story or places the blame where it doesn't belong. Take his charge that the military doesn't have the equipment it needs to get the job done. Turns out our soldiers don't have adequate protective gear so their parents are buying it for them. Kerry says that's all Bush's fault. He doesn't remind us that he himself has consistently voted to cut our military. He doesn't remind us that he turned down Bush's request for more military spending in Iraq. He hasn't taken any responsibility for the situation. He's a blamer and god, do I hate blamers.

Here's another example: the vaccine shortage. Kerry lays the blame for that on Bush, of course. He doesn't mention that ten years ago, there were 25 vaccine makers in the U.S. But then the Clinton administration passed a wonderful new law requiring vaccine makers to sell their vaccines at half price to make them more available to the disenfranchised poor. Sounds good, doesn't it? Sounds all beneficial and helpful, eh? Unfortunately twenty vaccine makers couldn't survive the resulting monetary shake-out. They went bankrupt. Now the remaining five vaccine makers struggle to meet demand. Who's fault is it? According to Kerry, it's Bush's fault.

How will I make my mark on the world?

Here I am, life half over, and suddenly I'm thinking of the bigger picture. In the twenty years leading up to this moment, I was happy to do my best to be a good and godly wife and mother. But that's gone now, taken from me by my husband, of all people. He doesn't care if I'm a godly wife and mother. He wants me to work (which I do because he doesn't) and be his mother only.

So the destruction of my dream has also destroyed my faith.What is there for me now, now that hearth and home are taken? I want to replace them with something bigger.

Writers leave their mark, as do counselors. I've already written a book - a children's religious book, which ten years later is still in print and a popular little book in its niche so I'm told. I can't tell you the title because this blog is written under a pseudonym.

I plan to draw a set of tarot cards to help people on their journey. I'd better get cracking on that, as I'm still a beginner at drawing.

My photography and iceskating are fun, but those are personal hobbies, not things that will really effect others.

There will not be a Draft

Kerry and his supporters are lying to you about the draft. There are no plans to re-instate the draft.

A spokeswoman for the Defense Department told CNSNews.com there is no intention to have a draft, nor does the Pentagon want one.

"Secretary Rumsfeld has said all along we do not need a draft. That's our stance and it will continue to be," said Lt. Col. Ellen Krenke, a Pentagon spokeswoman. "We don't need one. We're recruiting the number of people we need and the quality of people we need to perform all of our missions."

Bush also has dismissed the rumor, telling a questioner during the Oct. 8 presidential debate, "We're not going to have a draft, period. The all-volunteer Army works."

The Star

I took the dog for a walk today along Coal Creek. It was dark out. The path was difficult to see. As I walked I realized how what I was doing was a metaphor for my life -- walking in darkness along a trail whose end I cannot see, able to discern only the bend immediately ahead.

The leaves whispered in the trees above. Dead leaves and gravel crunched beneath my feet. What secret did the leaves tell one another? Perhaps they spoke of their approaching death, or of the oncoming winter. The pine trees had told them about winter, for of course they themselves have never seen it. The pine trees know immortality. They've seen many many winters. The leaves of the deciduous trees will never see even one. They will die before that time comes. What do the leaves think of it? What tales do they pass amongst themselves? Perhaps only jokes and gossip. Maybe leaves don't worry themselves with something they cannot change. Maybe they don't worry about death. Maybe they enjoy their day in the sun then let it go, knowing that life goes in seasons.

Whereas I walk in the sunlight that is not light and long for the darkness in which stars shine. That's what this surrounding darkness does for me -- I can see the light of the Star because of it.

The star. The beacon. The guide. It stands for hope of renewal and renewal of hope, the waters of life poured forth. In the darkness can be seen the light.

I don't walk in total darkness. The Star shines forth, guiding me.

Giving to Beggars

Today I gave a couple bucks to a guy begging at a stop light. He was a healthy-looking, cheerful guy, late twenties or early thirties, the perfect candidate for the question, "Why don't you get a job?" I didn't ask him though. I've decided I'm not going to worry about that kind of thing.

Maybe he was scamming me. Maybe he's going to spend the money on alcohol or drugs. Maybe he's in a tough spot that he'll get out of by next month or next year. Maybe his wife died and he just doesn't care any more. Maybe he's turned his back on the whole rat race and has embraced the Rainbow Family lifestyle.

I don't know the guy's situation. It's not the first time I've given to beggars and it won't be the last. The guy was begging on a street corner, for chrissake, and I gave him a couple bucks.

Dream

It's Friday night and I'm kicking around the house by myself. I decide to go out and find some company. I go up to campus and enter a building where clubs and groups hold their meetings, thinking I can probably find something fun going on in here. The building is a maze inside - narrow halls going this way and that. Here's a group that seems to be of elementary age children. I keep looking. Here's a room full of people doing something with sleeping bags. They all have red shirts on and are each in a gray sleeping bag. They are all lined up neatly, as if in formation. Now they change their formation and wiggle into a freer, looser pattern. Now they huddle up into a mound. They wriggle apart. Two of them have something unusual going on. Their sleeping bags are open. Their legs are spread. They are having a baby. I watch one more closely. The head emerges. It's a fully grown head. It has hair. It can speak. The woman looks very strange with a head sticking out of her. The rest emerges. Its small but fully grown. A bit later the "child" is brought over to me. I speak to it. Her, actually. She answers me, still feeling a bit shy from being so new and freshly born.

What did it all mean? I'm birthing adults, possibly referring to my children. They are teens now, not kids any longer. Notice how I reject the elementary age kids. It's not babies I had, really, it is adults. It's only for a little that they are babies, just long enough to trick us. For the rest of their life, they are adults. Am I explaining myself?

Second Presidential Debate

The second debate just ended. It was great. We can say without doubt that Kerry is the better debater. He expresses himself well and he's got an impressive array of facts immediately available. I read somewhere that his debate coach at Yale said Kerry was the second best debater he's ever taught; the first was William F. Buckley.

Bush did better this time around. He was more animated, nor did he repeat himself as much as he did the first time, though he's simply not as good a speaker as Kerry. For all his shortcomings as a speaker, however, I am convinced that he would be, and is, the better leader.

He said a few things that were telling. For example,in answer to the question about stem-cell research, he was clear that we are somehow trying to find the balance between ethics and science. Kerry didn't make that distinction, though it is a really important one.

Kerry's endless criticism of Bush became wearing. There's nothing easier to do than criticize. Kerry was full of promises about how he'd do better, but rather vague how he'd actually do it. He has to be vague, of course. He's been a senator for twenty years, surely he's observed the difficulties of the presidential job. He knows it is incredibly complex. He knows that the promises will be very difficult to fulfill. It's easy to make them, though.

Bush seems to be the kind of man who has strong convictions, and who, after consultation with advisors, will make a decision or take a stand that may be unpopular; who won't back off from what he feels is right to do. I appreciate that about him.

What if all of life were fun?

I've got a million things to do tomorrow, almost all of them in the fun category.

Non-fun: grocery shop, unclutter Rhiannon's room, do chores, shop with Michaela.

Fun: blog, go shooting for photography project, develop web page for photography project, ice skate, birthday party for Sara.

Q: What if all of life were fun?
A: It can be, if you choose to enjoy everything. Life is a game. Play for fun.

Confession

So guess who talked to who today? Don, my husband of 18 years, talked to Joe, the man I was in love with two years ago. Don needed Acura advice for my sister's car and called Joe to get it. Don doesn't know anything about me and Joe. I told Joe things would stay that way.

I have no need for confession. I believe in my grandmother's advice, that while confession may be good for the soul it's bad for relationships. The last time I talked to Joe, a year ago now, I told him I wouldn't ever tell. I consider the whole thing to be a secret that belongs to the both of us, not just to me. Also, I was concerned about just this type of eventuality -- that the two of them would have contact through their work. I didn't want them to be uncomfortable in each other's presence.

I qualified my promise, though. I won't tell until I'm sixty. I reserve the right to say anything to anybody when I'm sixty. So when that year rolls around, maybe then I'll tell Don, "I kissed Joe the year my mother died." But I won't say anything till then.

Now perhaps Joe knows I've kept my word thus far.

He Talks Too Much

God, my office mate is so annoying. He's a talker. A big talker. I ask him a question ("Is cuFSTitle in the XML what the stylesheet calls the Business Title?") (Doesn't that sound like an impressive question? I'm pretty impressed myself.) which he answers with a long history of how he queries the database and why. Waaaaaaay too many words. I can't listen to that deluge of detritus in the hope of mining a gem, so I don't listen at all.

The Bunny Got Away Again

The bunny got away again; no one knows how. Don said he saw him hopping about the alley in the afternoon. He had been roaming free in Rhiannon's room. Our best guess is that someone left the door open though no one will admit to this. He must have grabbed the chance for freedom when it came. Can you blame him? He probably explored the downstairs a bit, then made his way up the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door, which we leave open in nice weather. Too bad it's not nice weather now. It's dark out, with thunder, lightning, rain and hail. I went out with an umbrella and a flashlight but didn't see him. I hope the little guy stays warm and dry all night.

I took the dog out once the rain let up. (Still lightning though - very exciting!) It was all dark and still, with porchlight gleaming off the wet patches, a perfect singing-in-the-rain night, and so I did. Mary Chapin Carpenter's Come On Come On, my current favorite.

The Meaning of Life

What is the meaning of life? I've been pondering this question for years and I still don't know. But I do know one thing - whatever the meaning of life is, it can be found in shorter time spans. It's not just your life you need to think about; it's this year, this week, this minute. What's the meaning of this minute? If you can answer that, you may have the answer to all.

I've Found Paradise

It's right here in Lafayette, along the Coal Creek Trail. There's a small bosque there (a cottonwood forest next to a river) where birds flutter, horses graze, and the sun sparkles on the stream. The skeleton of a huge white tree stretches up over a swimming hole. There's a rope swing on it so anyone who wants to can swing out over the water. I sat there, entranced by the reflections and the dragonflies, for half an hour while my dog played at the water's edge.

Today was a really wonderful day. I got up early and headed out to take some photos. I love this hobby. Today I walked up Cannon alley and down Chester alley. I took some shots of dew on autumn leaves, bees in flowers, a tiny pumpkin on a compost pile, and wicker chairs backlit by sun.

A lot of the photos don't turn out which is discouraging. I'm having a difficult time capturing on film the quality of uniqueness that I see about me. I'm not ready to give up, though. I must keep trying, keep learning.

My exercise program is going well. I'm being fairly consistent and my body is responding. I am having a hard time keeping the calories down, though, because 1) food feels so good, and 2) it's something to do when you're reading or working on something mindless.

The Most Important Thing

The most important thing in life is to manifest the divine light as is given you to manifest it; which you do by being the best you can be, by living vitally, or as Joseph Campbell puts it, by following your bliss.

The things that makes me ME are passing and transitory. The eternal thing is the consciousness of which I am a part. And yet, it is my uniqueness though which others will be blessed and served. Be unique. Be vital. Follow your bliss.

In the world of the passing and transitory:
Kendall had a bunch of friends over for a poker tournament this evening. I spent a good deal of time wondering when I should make them go home. I feel silly about my worrying now. They are good kids and the party was pretty low key. There was no alcohol, smoking or rowdy behavior. My carpets were in no danger. (I can hear what you're thinking - "You call that a party?"). There was just lots of talk, laughter and Jimi Hendrix blasting on the stereo. At 12:30, they started to say things like, "I'm ready for this tournament to be over," and "I can barely keep my eyes open." I took that as my cue to say "It's 12:30. I should probably kick you guys out now." They finished their hand and off they went.

The Price You Pay

In spite of the fact that I love what I do, I sometimes think I should have entered a different career. Because I might enjoy it even better. Because I might be able to do more to make the world a better place. Because it might be what I am supposed to be doing.

And this makes me realize: Whatever you choose, you don't choose something else.

Further, you don't have to do anything. You don't have to choose anything. But you do have to live with the consequences of your choice.

That's the desperate truth, the spiral paradox. The price you pay is that you have to live with the consequences.

So ask yourself, Who are you? What do you want to be? What would you give to be that person?

Would you give your time? Your money? Your life?

What do you give in exchange for what you most want?

This is your life you are living. This is your life that you are giving. You can choose or not choose, do or not do, live or not live. But you cannot Not Pay. You will always pay.

Just make sure that what you get is worth it. You are trading your life for something. Make sure it's worth it.

Life is Good

Just a quick note to say I like my new hobby (photograpy), I like my new job (XSLT developer), I like my rabbit and my dog, I like my body, I like my hair, I like my kids. My house is okay, as is my husband. He's great except he doesn't want to be bothered with adult responsibility. Life is pretty good. Not perfect, but pretty damn good.

Here's what I did after work: went for walk with dog and took snapshots, made salsa (there is nothing as good as homemade salsa -- nothing), picked up, started a load of laundry, did aerobics and watched Whale Rider (a very sloooooooow movie; I could barely get through it). I only partially completed my Daily Check List.

Disaster Relief

Here's an entry from Rhiannon's Blog. She's on disaster relief in Florida, cleaning up after the many hurricanes that blew through this season.

I love hard gym floors.
They are fun to sleep on,
especially when you have 30 girls packed
into a room fifteen by twenty feet large.

I love tarping roofs,
especially when the roofs are so hot
they melt your tennis shoes.
I am glad that the tarps are slippery,
because it makes it that much easier to fall off.
Especially when you have to walk across them to get off.

I love lots of fast food.
If it were up to me, I would eat nothing else.
Fortunately, we don't eat anything else.
Fast food 3 meals a day, 7 days a week.
I love being a vegetarian.

I love moving.
It's a good thing that we move once a day.
Otherwise I would get to sleep on a bed.
Otherwise I would get to eat a home-cooked meal.
Otherwise I would get to shower in a decent shower.
It's a good thing that we move once a day.

I love disaster relief.

Thank you.

Images in Blogger

I'm working on getting images figured out.

Here are some:


Okay, that worked. Those are thumbnail images from my Back Alley Project photography, which I work on after I get home from work.

It's been an education, let me tell you. I've ruined several good pictures through

1. camera shake
2. paying no attention to aperture
3. incorrect light metering
   

My Projects

1. Archery
2. Ice Skating
3. Medieval Garb
4. Photo Album / Scrapbooking
5. Drawing
6. Intensive Journal Summary
7. Intensive Journaling
8. Charity's End Web Site
9. Story Telling
10. Guitar and Violin
11. Tarot
12. Mythology Group
13. Knitting
14. New Media Design
15. Motherhood
16. Loving What Is Inquiry
17. Race Walking
18. Photo Journalism – Lafayette's Back Alleys

My SCA Medieval Garb

Completed

• Brown velvet tunic with cream underskirt.
• White early Tudor with blue underskirt.
• Maroon early Tudor with gold underskirt.
• Black dress.
• Short red tunic, heavily embroidered, with sage green underdress and medieval print sleeves.
• Blue tunic embroidered with white leaves, with red underdress.
• Dark blue cote with white hem and red sleeves.
• Cream tunic with brown trim and brown underdress.
• Various skirt/vest/ combinations.
• Blue dress with red heraldic tabard.
• Red dress with lavender underskirt and blue tabard.
• Five cloaks.

In various stages of completion

• Black and maroon Italian Ren.
• Sage green cote with quilted jacket.
• Black cote with beaded underdress.
• Maroon with lace-up front and white brocade underskirt.