Tid Bits

In case you were wondering...

Snow White III
Snow hasn't left our shores yet. And she's really pissed at me. Originally, she was hoping to take a swift current on the early September hurricane winds to help her cross the Atlantic. Alas - I started cleaning out my apartment. Snow hasn't gone anywhere. She said, "I thought better of you after our conversations. Yet here I am, still stuck in the U.S. because you put me on a shelf and forgot all about me! I've had enough of that behavior from others. Why do you think I want to travel? To get off the damn shelf!"

I am deeply sorry for my behavior and have given Snow White my deepest apologies. As long as I get her to the ocean today - I'll be forgiven. So, I am taking her to the beach this afternoon - to launch her on the next leg of her journey. Snow's still hoping to make it across before the winter storms become too strong. Why not fly? Snow explained that getting to the airport is difficult. Also, there's no guarantee she'll even be allowed aboard - for some reason. She'd rather rely on Mother Nature.

My Tree
The young tree, that was planted to fill in where the old Mulberry fell during the March nor'easter, is alive after a long, hot summer. I was out there every day watering it. You'd think I gave birth to it! lol. I think it's grown. It's hard to tell. Like with kids - you see them all the time, so their growth is so gradual it's normal. You don't really see the change unless you leave them for a while. (No, I'm not advocating child abandonment here!) I'm guessing it'll be the same with the tree.

And yes, its leaves changed color. It wasn't dramatic, but kind of cool. The leaves turned yellow from the edges inward - slowly taking over the green. Then they were all yellow. Yesterday, after a day of rain, they turned reddish orange, and then, suddenly, after the winds last night - they've all fallen off! You'd think I'd expect that by now. 'Cept, as with children, it was only "yesterday" it seems, it was planted. I'm very glad it's there.

Well, it's an absolutely gorgeous day out there - 70 degrees, sunny and breezy, and I've got Snow White to launch. TTFN!

P.S. Snow White was launched at 3:30 p.m. yesterday afternoon. She flew through the air with a shout of sheer joy. Last I saw of her, Snow was heading directly for the open sea.
Bon voyage, Snow! May you never be stuck on shelf again!

The Wondrous Hook

Yes, now you're imagining that I'm going to warble on about the philosophy inherent in the evil Captain Hook as pertains to Peter Pan. No such luck! The hook to which I refer is far less lofty, and, in fact, is far more useful. No. I'm not talking about a musical hook, or a crocheting hook (does anyone still do that?) or even a shephard's hook - or is that crook? Anyway.....

Whilst a friend of mine was discovering the bidet in Europe, I was rediscovering the joy of the simple, household hook. Yes. That one. The kind you screw into the wall for the purpose of hanging something from it. I realize that a hook does not remotely compare to the investigative process required by the workings of a bidet by an American citizen newly living abroad. However, the thrill I felt far outweighed - I believe - my friend's trepidation.

Why am I caroling about a hook? Well, being in the throes of tossing my entire apartment, I've been at a loss where to put some things. Installing and using a hook or two in my closet never once crossed my mind. I can only put this perceptual blindness down to being a renter for many years. (Not to mention a Mother who found hooks somewhat vile.)

Ask any one who's done it. Renting can be risky. Especially with regard to the "damage deposit." One hears horror stories of false damage charges, and violent accusations. So, I had become accustomed to only timidly hanging a picture or two on my walls. And closet interiors? They were not to be touched. 'Course, that may have just been my landladies. Truth be told, I have only had wonderful landladies. It was my hang up. :)

But hey, I'm an owner now. (Well, the bank is.) I can put nails in all over my walls if I want. So, now, (happy sigh) I have a hook in my closet to hang a bag. And since you cannot buy just one hook all by itself.... I am in joyful contemplation as to what else I can hang in that space. It was an ephiphany to rediscover the "hook." I may very well put another one up. Or maybe, two.

No. I'm not in Europe, nor am I warily approaching a bidet. However, I can move on now. I have hooks!

I've Got Bumper Stickers Now - Gasp!

It's all a result of this excavating I've been doing. I unearthed two bumper stickers I'd bought several years ago. I had never applied them to my car bumper because of a number of "old" parental judgments about aforesaid stickers. Yes, weird, I know. It's just that those parental judgments can suddenly pop up out of pure, thin air, and blindside me into frozen indecision over the bizarrest (sp?), and smallest of things. Which is probably why I think I kept them in various piles of papers over the years, only to find them once again.

Well, today, I decided to ignore those old messages of "I would never put one on my car. It devalues the car!" "It's really rather tacky. Only people with no taste would put one on their bumper." "You can get into trouble if someone doesn't agree with you." And implied..."Only low class people have bumper stickers on their cars." So, our family cars (and my car) have remained bumper sticker free my entire life. Today, I decided that I would stand up, take fate into my own hands and put those bumper stickers on my car. Hallelujah!

'Course the moment I did, I realized that no one in my condominium parking lot has a bumper sticker. Nor apparently, if you look, do any other cars driving in my town. Or even on the Interstate for the 4 exits that I drove today. Oh, dear. Suddenly, I was feeling very exposed. Talk about putting yourself out there.... Now, it's too late to change my mind. According to legend, once on, you can never remove a sticker from your bumper. So - I've decided to claim them with all the bravado I can muster.

Actually, I do like what they say. Hopefully, they will be thought provoking. One, I hope will gently change people's behaviors. What are these paragons of bumper sticker wisdom???

The first - "Visualize Using Your Turn Signals" (with arrows) - this is a pet peeve of mine, and usually perpetrated by non-hands free cell phone users. The joke is that quite likely "they" are already visualizing without using the signals. :)

The second - "Equal Rights Are Not Special Rights" - this came out (I believe) during the time of the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). I think it applies to many civil rights issues of our time. Take your pick.

So far, my world has not ended. Mind you, I only applied these stickers early this afternoon. I'm kind of curious to see if they receive any reaction at all.

Why write a post about my bumper stickers? Because putting them on my car felt surprisingly risky. Who knew?

Excavating

About two months ago or so, I decided that I needed to stir up the energy in my life to get moving again after my summer "hiatus." In the principles of feng shui, by de-cluttering your home, and moving the furniture about into hopefully beneficial arrangements, you can actually improve your circumstances. So, with renewed resolve and energy, I started. It's still going on.

I mistakenly thought the whole process might take a couple of weeks to simply move around the big pieces of furniture and, voila! Not so simple. All of a sudden, you wonder, will it all fit that way? Can I reduce two bookcases into one? Good grief! How many piles of paper do I have on the floor - not to mention, books? And they all have to be gone through because there could be something important "in there."

So, what was supposed to be a simple re-arrangement of the great room in my apartment has, instead, become an interesting and challenging undertaking. Why challenging? Oh - attachments to the past, attachments to that funky looking stick I picked up one day, the suspicion that an important bill or two has been buried "in there" somewhere. And, man! Let's get rid of this. Wait a minute....I might need it. O.K. Where can I put it? Oh, but father gave that to me when I was 12. And so on!

I've decided the whole process is rather like dieting. Once you get past the decision to "do," then, you start. And it's not happening as fast as you thought it would. In fact, moving something sometimes creates more problems, and the resolutions take two or more days to solve. I've been doing things in surges. Once I figured out where the main pieces would go - this invoved about a week of staring into space while I moved stuff around my mind - the actual moving only took an intense, and exhausting, day. (I also forgot about the necessary physical recuperation time!) Then, with the next step in mind, I'd move on. Onto going through all my books, cds and dvds to see what I could give the library as a donation. And the clothes (still in process).

And just like dieting, I've found, you have your plateaus. You're up and running with your new way of eating, and after a nice drop of 5 pounds or so, you stay there - day after day, even week after week. Well, after accomplishing my goals of reducing my books, clearing out the storage, getting bookcases to Goodwill, books to the library, clearing out the closet, cleaning out storage drawers, etc., small problem. Every horizontal surface is covered. And I do mean covered. You can barely see a surface anywhere - including my couch.

I am a feng shui disaster!! I am overwhelmed with stuff. Mind you, at least I can see it now. Also, there are treasures I've found. For instance, I rediscovered a poem I wrote years ago. And I really like it. I'm thrilled I kept it. I'm even more thrilled I found it. The poem will probably show up in a post in the near future, as it is Fall, and I wrote it at the change of season.

The decision has been made. This "plateau" must end! Like a diet, I must return to my quest. So this week, I am determined to uncover at least three horizontal surfaces. They may be small, but nonetheless, the contents potentially complex. The treasures I hopefully find will make it fun. I'm planning on being done by Halloween. Onwards, and upwards!

Sunday Paper

Last Sunday I had awakened early and, unusually for me, was out and about in the morning running errands. As I'm driving along one of my favorites routes - because the trees are rather lovely - I passed a property that has always held my curiosity. It's a nice property, fronted by an old stone wall - easily 1/2 an acre in size with a small, one-storied house up a gently rising driveway with what looks like a barn over on the side - and main benefit? It faces south with a view over the municipal golf course. Its grounds are decently maintained and the grass mown. Why my curiosity? Because I have never ever seen anyone there. Not in the five years I've been driving by.

As I came by the driveway last Sunday, movement caught my eye. There was an elderly woman in her nightgown with her long white hair in an unbrushed tangle flowing about her head. She was slowly, slowly making her way down her driveway with fixed purpose. In her hands was one of those ugly, cheap looking metal walkers. The thin arms would tense. Up, shuffle forward a few inches, plant the frame. Begin again. At the end of her journey, there was a Sunday paper in its tell-tale plastic bundle waiting to be picked up. The woman appeared frail, and her back was was bent into an angle so sharp it made me wince.

Down the driveway she steadily came heading for that paper. I thought "it must take her a good 1/2 hour or more to get the paper! Oy." I couldn't even figure out how she was planning on picking up said paper.

Mind you, all these thoughts and impressions are whipping through my mind faster than light. Somehow - in the space of my driving by - there was more than enough time "in there" for me to worry about the woman. To worry about her struggle with her physical age. Does she have enough food to eat? Is she living there all alone? Does anyone care about her? There was even enough time for me to wonder if I could - in the practical sense - do anything for her. I briefly considered stopping to get her paper for her - but then, I decided 'no' - maybe this was her one outing a week, and she might not appreciate it. I wondered if she felt abandoned by the world. I wondered if she felt lonely.

As I passed the end of the stone wall at the driveway's edge, I finally could see clearly up the driveway to the woman coming down. And there, one of my worried questions was answered. She was not alone. She had a companion.

Strolling along, looking as bright as a new penny with tail straight up, attention focused on the woman, was a young tortiseshell-colored cat. The cat's posture seemed to suggest that getting the paper was a grand adventure, and it wouldn't want to be anywhere else. The cat carefully paced the woman - step for step - down the driveway - never ahead or behind. I swear that cat was chaperoning the woman down to her paper. It was a wonderful sight.

Mind you.... Every time I've passed by that quiet house this week - the questions come back. And I worry. But you can't look after everyone. Can you???
To comfort myself, I think of the cat.

Breath Less

Hello all. Yes, I'm alive and somewhat kicking. My long absence has been due in part to a mystery illness that robbed me of energy, appetite and yes, breath for most of July and August.

It's amazing how much we take breathing for granted until we can't. I hear a few "duhs" coming my way. Seriously, assuming you are not on your deathbed, not allergic to something and not ill, breathing is automatic. You just do it. Just like Nike. But then, something creeps in, and when you go to take a breath - you can't. Your chest and lungs seemingly refuse to expand and they hurt. Everything else is fine - your sinuses, no cold, getting enough sleep, no sore throat and no icky stuff coming out of your nose. So I toddled off to see my doctor.

Let me pause here for a moment and say that I really didn't mind missing the hottest summer on record in my region. I was kind of grateful I had an excuse to stay away from the 90 and 100 degree temperatures. July, in our neck of the woods, had 28 days that were over 90 degrees. For a temperate creature like myself - biologically speaking - it was brutal! I would also like to bow down and salute the inventor of air conditioning and Edison or Tesla for electricity. Without my noble air conditioning units going almost 24/7, I sincerely believe my goose would have been cooked. I could easily have been one of those passing statistics of heat-related death. No. Thanks to modern technology I survived July and early August. The only injury was to my wallet, and it was a price I was all too happy to pay.

So, my doctor, at the end of June, having no external confirmation that anything was wrong, basically blew me off and told me to use my nasal spray. He happily ignored that fact that nothing he'd done was helping me breathe better. He refused to even consider a course of antibiotics. I was so appalled at his cavalier behavior that I didn't go back when it got so much worse. Suffice it to say, for about a week and a half in mid-summer, I was almost completely undone. My days consisted of sitting, trying to breathe sipping the air, and trying not to move much at all, because it would take too much energy. My nights were sweat-filled ones where sleep was a challenge. On the bright side, (the body is wonderful how it manages my attention) my old back injury didn't hurt at all. Hallelujah! If that had been in the mix, I probably wouldn't have lasted.

As it was, I made it through. Thankfully, I'm pretty robust. Now.... All I can say is I learned this summer that I really need to rely on myself for my health - not my doctor. AND, if my doctor blows me off, then I need to go out and find someone who'll take the time to listen to me. (Turns out the antibiotics he refused to give me - were what put my problem to bed. My dentist did a procedure on me at the end of August, and prescribed the usual 5-day amoxicillin as a preventative. I felt like a million bucks afterwards!) Course, in the beginning of the summer, I had absolutely no energy to pursue that course. I learned, too, that it's critical to have someone around who cares about your health too. I am now looking for possible candidates. :)

All in all, my breath-less summer was an interesting experience. One, which I hope I will never repeat. Talk about career change interruptus! "What did you do this past summer?" "Oh, I worked on breathing..."

That said, and assuming that I am now fully recovered, I plan on posting something here with a higher frequency than once a month! Hope you - all of you - are all well and thriving.

I've Been Erased by AT&T!

I was surprised how much of a shock it really was. Let me explain. For most of my life I have been a customer of AT&T or one of their many subsidiaries. Mind you, there weren't that many other telephone companies out there. So, by default, unless you were bound and determined to communicate some other way - you were handled by AT&T - in the main. As such, You could count on, without fail, that "the" telephone company would handle getting you a new paper residential telephone directory and yellow pages to you in a plastic bag, if you lived in a house, or, as in the case of my building, there's just a honking great pile in the lobby with the annual delivery. This was an event that marked the years. A new telephone directory was like someone pushed the "refresh" button, and you got the new directory with all the new community changes in your hands.

O.K., O.K. A paper directory is a dinosaur for many people. However, it can actually be more convenient to whip out the book to look up a phone number or address - than having to boot up the computer or locate your multi-tasking phone. It's recycleable, usually stays in the same place, and it gives its listings a feeling of permanence simply by the weight that rests in your hands. There have been pretenders and competitors to the paper telephone directory throne over the years. Usually, without fail, the AT&T directory listed the latest information. You could count on them to be super efficient. The throne pretenders were usually working off of old information.

Well, with all the so-called progress in the electronic media market in the last few years. Especially after 9/11/01 knocked out our usual form of broadcast media for television - telephone companies decided to get into the computer and television market and, the cable providers followed suit. Or vica versa. At any rate, many of us have been forced to purchase these bundled services if we want to a) stay in touch by talking; b) watch the latest television shows or Pay-Per-View packages (like in hotels for blue movies!); and c) surf, research, etc. the internet, text the entire world or expose one's pecadillos for the entire electronic world to see - in the name of social networking. You no longer can have a simple land line to call folks or 911. You no longer can have the basic broadcast channels on your tv. And if you want a connection to the internet - then you have to have one that handles everything.

These improvements are all market driven. They've brought a level of communication available to the general public to unprecedented heights. It's wonderful. It can also cost you and arm-and-a-leg. We are stuck with all these new parameters.

To get back to the erasure of me....because AT&T wanted to charge a bundle of money for their bundle. I found I could keep basic television, and buy the rest of cable's bundle for about $25 less per month. This is very important as I am currently incomeless and rather media driven! So, I switched my telephone and internet to cable. I got a brand new telephone number. Hallelujah! My old one belonged to a deadbeat, and after 5 years, I was still getting collection agency calls. The new number with cable, yes, it did belong to someone else, but fortunately, I've only received two calls for its former owner.

So - now that I have a new telephone number from my cable company, my friends and family are unable to look up my current telephone on the internet (which can be a blessing). But what is most heinous (sp?) to me, is that AT&T has erased me from their new 2010 telephone directory. It made me feel like I was living in the Twilight Zone, or that a science-fiction novel had come to life on me! On the one hand, anything you put on the internet is there for all eternity. But to go to an old friend - my new annual telephone book - and find that I no longer exist, is rather unnerving. In the past, I believe, even if you weren't a direct customer, you and your listing showed up in the phone book. No more! If you are not a customer, you are dead to them!

The competitor's phone book still has me and my old phone number. And my cable company? They don't bother with a telephone directory. 'Course it's now becoming apparent - if you call a number not handled by your telephone company - you will probably be told that "there is no such number." I guess the various telephone providers don't talk to each other. It doesn't work in the spirit of economic competition. Mind you, it would be extremely beneficial in a emergency. Let's hope we don't have one.

Ooops! Forgot Ireland

Well, not really. It's just that the English portion of the post went on a bit. Yes, I cheerfully admit to that. I had a ball in the land of my birth.

O.K. Ireland. Well, I was at a conference there just outside of Dublin, so I mainly saw the hotel, the shopping centre next door and the airport. Tho' I must say the sky is a huge presence there. Perhaps it is because the countryside around Dublin is not as intensely developed as U.S. suburbs. Also, the reality of "skyscraper" seems to be non-existent there - thank goodness. The sky is huge and lovely with the sun and clouds. You really get a feel for the term "ever changing." I can also understand why painters of yore would want to capture the sky on their canvas. Magnificent! Though, on cloudy and rainy days - you don't really want that much sky hanging over you. It can get rather over whelming. The gift? When the sun comes out after days of rain - the colors of the countryside can knock you sideways. The people are rather fabulous, too!

While in Ireland I did, however, have the opportunity to visit Glendalough (Gaelic for "Valley of the Two Lakes"). My guide book calls it "the epitome of rugged and romantic Ireland." And on a sunny afternoon such as we had, it truly was. It's prime attraction are the remains of the monastic city (being notoriously uneducated in religious whatnots -- who knew?) which was built by disciples of St. Kevin, a single monk who had originally come to the area (according to the guidebook) for peace and quiet. Don't you love it?

In it's heyday, Glendalough was home to one of the largest monastic cities in Ireland. The monastery lasted for four centuries from the 9th to the 12 century. After surviving several Viking raids (being an economic gem), the English forces from Dublin apparently finished the monastic city off in the 1300s - tho' I can't remember if any reason was given. There's a fascinating graveyard (amazingly still in use!); a round tower built in the 10th century with its front door 20 feet off the ground; the remains of the original monastic gate: and several churches, built during various centuries, are still there in this deep valley surrounded by forest. The Visitor's Center has a fabulous video presentation which give you a far better appreciation for what you are seeing, before you see it. The whole area is best described by my guidebook as a "deeply tranquil and spiritual place." It truly is. It is also a visual feast for the eyes. I very much enjoyed being introduced to this intriguing place.

So, if you're ever traveling on Ireland's eastern side, I highly recommend this magical valley to you. Bring your camera. You'll want to bring a bit of the mystery home.

It's Lovely To Go Away...

It really is. Especially when you have a great time! The immediate benefits are obvious: change of pace and scenery, someone else (if you're lucky) does the cooking, the chance to meet any number of interesting people, the challenges of dealing with another culture, and hopefully, a new way of seeing the world - at least for the length of your stay. And, if you're really fortunate, you may get a new perspective on the life you've left behind. An old saying in our family is "A change is as good as a rest." Then again, I suppose it depends on the changes.

For me, traveling to the United Kingdom last month did not challenge me as much as going to a county where I have no history and no knowledge of the language. However, it was wonderful simply to get away from my life for a while. First, in England, I stayed with some cousins for about 5 days whom I hadn't seen in 14 years. My second week was spent in Ireland. The weather in England was perfectly lovely with one day of rain (which gave me a chance to recover from jet lag). In Ireland, it rained. A LOT! That's why it's so green. The weather was also deliciously cool, which viewed now from the perspective of the hottest summer on record, made it even more lovely in retrospect. I am a child of more temperate climes, specifically the U.K. and the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. I am not in any way, shape or form structured for very hot and humid climates .... or icy, windblown frozen tundras, either, for that matter!

It may not have changed the world, but my trip last month was immensely satisfying. My cousins are extraordinarily generous hosts, especially when one takes into account that their kitchen was completely torn up - so meals were created in the downstairs hallway on a two-burner propane stove. microwave and a refrigerator that dominated the proceedings - along with a breakfront which provided the dishes. Funnily enough, even the drawers on the breakfront were being refurbished every other day, so we'd have to hunt for where we'd put the utensils or the tea.

My hosts are quite extraordinary. They did everything in their power to ensure that my 5 and one-half days with them were fun, fascinating and interesting. They deserve an award for meeting the challenge of entertaining a guest whilst their downstairs was compromised. In fact, most of my vivid memories from the few times I've visited England, usually revolve around these cousins, and the excursions they planned for me. John is a retired lawyer with a passion for family genealogy. Sue restored works of art, especially paintings; her knowledge is encyclopedic and her enthusiasm for new experiences unbound. You would be hard-pressed to find a better guide to the National Gallery (or any gallery, I would bet). Both Sue and John love to travel, explore and try new things. I suspect that without their strong sense of duty and their love for their family (who've all left the nest) - not to mention their grandchildren! - they'd love nothing more than to hit the road, and not look back.

'Course their geographical location helped a great deal. They live in the country town of Marlborough, Wiltshire - smack dab in the middle of Salisbury Plain in the middle of England's countryside. The significance? Oh, just a few old places like Stonehenge, Silbury Hill, Kennet Long Barrow and Avebury are found on the Salisbury Plain. Not to mention lovely country walks, a canal system, the White Horses, Salisbury Cathedral and stunning vistas that stretch the eye for miles. (Thanks for the expression, John.)

Not too far away in one direction, is Jane Austen's City of Bath which was built over a number of hills in a golden stone. This is a beautiful sight from the right viewpoint. Sue even managed to squeeze in a day trip to London for me. This included a trip down the Thames to Greenwich passing the London "Eye" and the Tower of London - where we were saluted with a 57-gun salute in honor of each year the Queen has been on the throne! Afterwards, we did a quick turn around the National Gallery. Our highlight was to see a man walk by in a black suit while wearing a bowler hat! Bowler hats are NOT seen these days. They are considered part of London's past. Not to mention seeing a black suit in high summer. Very cool. And, yes, Sue. Definitely surreal.

Now - Throw in a Russian Orthodox Men's Choir performance; a picnic dinner out on the Gallops by the side of the old coach road to Swindon while the sun went down; intelligent and perceptive conversation; climbing Martin's Sel (sp?) with Ramage, and seeing an old prop plane flying over the checkerboard of fields looking like something from the last century; climbing the steps of St. Peter's church tower to the top, and viewing Marlborough from above; shooting through Paddington Station after navigating the Underground; breathing that sweet country air; bombing through the tiny country lanes by car; trying to identify my pence from cents; the lovely enclosed gardens; leaning up against the stones at Avebury; having the executive tour of The Merchant's House; and finally, looking down and across a field to see Stonehenge looking majestic and inimitably itself!

Yes. It is truly amazing what you can do in five and one half days. My cousins have definitely set the bar incredibly high for any future hosts. And I am extremely grateful for all the wonderful experiences and memories they have gifted me.

So, I highly recommend your getting away from your life for a wee while. It can really refresh one's soul.

Mercury, Your Friendly Deadly Toxin and You!

I've been trying to think how to start this post with enough impact to startle anyone who reads this. So far, I haven't really come up with anything that's remotely satisfying. Truthfully, to do the matter academic justice, I could probably research Mercury and its household uses and dangers for months. I would probably end up with a result better suited to submitting a doctorate thesis than writing a blog post.

It just bugs the hell out of me that the generic and relatively inexpensive energy saver promoted (touted) to a busy, distracted public as the answer to their high electricity bills is ... the fluorescent light bulb. Fluorescent light bulbs are being recommended to every household (and business) as the one, the only, long-lasting, energy saving, cost effective replacement to the old incandescent light bulbs. (If anyone else has found an alternative, it's been kept very quiet.) The manufacturers and marketers carefully avoid mentioning some of the drawbacks associated with the light that is emitted by fluorescent lights: a) visusally, the light is very cold in appearance; b) the light flickers just enough to cause distress to anyone with Asperger's Syndrome or Autism; and c) can contribute to epileptic seizures in some sensitive people.

However, in my mind, what tops all those cautions, is the simple fact that each fluorescent light bulb or fluorescent tube contains Mercury. Mercury is a known deadly toxin. Mercury poisoning, when not fatal, contributes to a slew of physical problems including neurological damage. Ironically, it has also been considered as a contributing factor to Autism.

Once Mercury gets into an enviroment, it doesn't go away easily. So. Just think about it. All the electric companies are promoting the fact that you need to bring this deadly toxin into every room in your home. Go ahead. Light your world with a deadly poison. Do the cost benefits outweigh the health concerns? Maybe so. I'm not convinced. As long as the bulbs are not broken, there's absolutely no risk to your health. The problem arises in breaking a bulb or in disposing of it.

Wikipedia notes, "When broken indoors, bulbs may emit sufficient Mercury vapor to present health concerns, and the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency recommends evacuating and airing out a room for at least 15 minutes after breaking a fluorescent light bulb." That's lovely. Honestly, how many people at home are going to take the time to leave, and air out a room where a bulb's been broken? I'd wager, not too many.

And as far as properly disposing of fluorescent bulbs so the Mercury doesn't doesn't enter the environment - most communities have no easy way to handle this. Like batteries, wouldn't you want to just toss the dead fluorescent bulb into the household trash? This is far more likely to happen. So the Mercury in your dead fluorescent bulbs - as the Mercury in any batteries you may have tossed on occasion into your trash - are all ending up where ever all our office and household garbage goes - and leaches out into the air and soil.

There are so many ramifications here that could be developed on so many products marketed to consumers. But for now, and this blog post, my concern is the Mercury - the toxin - contained in fluorescent light bulbs. My question to you is simple....

Do you really want to bring a deadly poison into your home to save a few dollars?

Writing Your Story

A teacher recently said that it is a really good idea to write your personal story. He went on to say that it was a great way to provide perspective on your life. To write your very own story of your time on this planet, is a grand reminder to you of where you’ve come from, and what you’ve done. You will essentially be “witnessing” your self, and your life. Your story is (or can be) a confirmation of who you have been up until now.

Some would say that the practice of writing one’s life is terribly self-indulgent. “They” would say that “we,” as a generation (and by generation, I’m including everyone alive today), are too self-involved as it is! True, there seem to be legions of unfortunates who are incapable of showing any awareness or concern for any one or any thing past the physical limits of their own bodies. On the other hand, there are almost an equal number of people who are so careful to publically show that they are utterly selfless in every thought, word and deed that they tend to pay no attention to the consequences of their own actions. Further, they seem to feel as though their very practiced selflessness excludes them from all blame or responsibility. Then, of course, there are the select few, such as myself, who are perfect in every way. [Now, if you believe that last statement, I have some lovely real estate you may wish to buy along the Gulf Coast ….or in the Nevada desert (our supposedly post 2012 western continental United States coastline) – with water views.]

There is also something rather seductive in writing about your own life. Actually, it all boils down to self judgment. If you can withhold the judgment and simply relate the facts, you’ll have it done. ‘Course, for me, withholding judgment upon myself is nigh to impossible. I can barely get through a line sometimes without thinking: “Is that too much?,” or “Who died and made you use million dollar words?,” or “How can you say he was being bitchy? Maybe he had gas and was only trying (poorly) to be polite?” Honestly, with this soundtrack running through the back of my mind, it’s a miracle I write much of anything. Every time I click the “Post” button, there’s a small leap of faith that what I’ve written even makes sense.

So back to writing one’s own life….where to start? at one’s moment of birth? Much has been written and speculated upon about the ensuing trauma caused by labor, the short trip down the birth canal and the smack on the bum immediately there following (or the paddling pool of warm water). Thanks to the media, we (who are not biological mothers) are all somewhat familiar with the physical and emotional challenges to the mother before, during and after the birth which could then impact the child’s (your) upbringing! To think of all that drama removed by the growing use of the Caesarean method. Just think of the stories lost!

Or shall one start at the point of conception? The possibilities are almost endless as to the circumstances surrounding the inevitable meeting of sperm and egg. Those circumstances would be endlessly diverting to a writer, such as myself, as there are so many opportunities for variety and creativity, whereas the act of birth generally tends to be rather straightforward. Oh, I‘m not saying birth is always without complication. It is simply that we can all conceive of the many things involved in a child’s birth. However, on the occasion of conception – before, during and after – (and a little imagination), the possibilities of who, what, where, how and when are simply endless! Not to mention – tempting.

Oy. This writing of one’s life may prove to be too challenging for me. It would probably serve me a great deal better to simply stick with the facts. And where the documentation doesn’t exist, the family members involved are dead, or the things that no one’s really ever been able to explain to me – shall just have to remain a mystery. Or I can make up. Okay, here goes….

“It was after the War [you pick which one] when from a great height, my father espied my mother flying across the fields.” [Now you fill in the rest!]