Toss it out to the Universe

Animals Don't Have Souls?

2009-08-06T17:45:00.000-07:00

Virtually all of my life I have been an "animal person".. I just love them, whatever their genus, species (well, let's leave those without legs out of this discussion..) and have raised, bottle fed and observed the critters all of my years.

My daughter had her first theology class disagreement when the class was told "animals don't have souls". Apparently the creatures God created aren't worthy of heaven?

I have to respectfully disagree with this idea.

Let's take my enormous, ancient Chow/Retriever mix dog, Ginger. Ginger is one big old ball of furry licking-your-skin-off because she loves you doggy. Since day one when she came into our home, she seemed to COUNT when all three of us came through the door. If one came in without the other two, she'd pace about until two and three arrived. Same routine, every day. Sorry, can't convince me she doesn't "know" exactly who her people are and how many of us there are!

She also has the really sweet habit of having to place herself exactly between all members of the family. If one is upstairs and another is downstairs, she has to be on the landing between floors so she has access to both people.

I also have to use the example of the picture in this blog. We bottle fed Tinkerbell from a half pound tiny scrawny ball of fur with ears. She had parasites and infections and really shouldn't have lived. She spent several weeks in our incubator, which was actually our bathroom with a humidifier pointing into a rubbermaid tote, Tinkerbell inside.

Whenever she would emerge from her incubator for feeding, it was imperative in Ginger's world that the kitten get some slobbery love. Never mind that Ginger easily could have taken out little Tink with one paw, she gently and carefully sniffed and cuddled Tink until we decided it was time to take her back to her resting spot.

I also believe that animals grieve for their family members and other animal pals. When we lost our Tasha, Ginger spent several weeks in what looked like a deep depression. She'd ask to go outside and would stand looking forlorn when she didn't find Tasha. One terrible and heartbreaking incident during this time occurred when I was moving Tasha's collar with it's jingly tags from one place to another upstairs. Ginger heard it, came flying upstairs, hoping to find her lost friend. No feelings? No soul? I don't think so. We observed the same behavior with Tasha when we lost our sweet little Bichon, Max.

These observations and more have given me even more reason to volunteer with rescue groups and do all I can for animals who can't speak for themselves. They trust us to care for them.. not abuse, neglect or breed them in tiny stinky cages for profit and then be discarded.

It's not funny to me to hear that some nitwit drowned rabbits in a pet shop and thought it would entertain her Facebook friends to see her holding up the poor things dead bodies with a big idiot grin on her face.

I live for the day when more people understand that animals are precious and deserving of care. The stories I see daily sicken me and make me more determined than ever to keep doing what I can, one animal at a time, to take care of them as I believe He that created them would want.

Please! Return to the Undisclosed Location!

2009-05-21T19:48:00.001-07:00

Seriously, I can't take it anymore!
For weeks now, our ex Vice President Dick has been running amok all over any media outlet that will give him five minutes.
I find this strange because frankly, we have seen more of this guy in two weeks than we did in eight years! I know he was safely tucked away in some bunker, AKA "undisclosed location" so he could step into Bush the sequel's booties in case something happened to him, but THIS IS RIDICULOUS!
In addition to spending a lot of time and energy defending the policies that were attached to the strings he apparently pulled for eight very long years with the moronic marionette Dubya, he's bashing the policies of Barack Obama, a man that has more common sense in one of his nose hairs than the entire Bush administration had combined.
It's time for the man to retire back to Wyoming or whatever unfortunate state he hails from, quit doing his "Penguin from Batman" imitation, and kill some fish or shoot some hunting buddy in the face or something. Isn't there a third world country that has a feeble minded idiot for a leader that he can go "consult" with? Certainly if he could control Dubya, who was an idiot wrapped in a moron, he can find something more productive to do with his time.
Enough already! GO AWAY DUDE!

Insult To Injury

2009-03-05T14:09:00.000-08:00

I should have seen it coming. Here I am, staring down the double-barrel of a milestone birthday.
FIFTY. Five decades. Half a century. Not able to call myself "middle aged" because seriously, most folks don't live to 100.
Ok, I was dealing with it. Attempting to get excited about the prospect of reaching this "golden" phase of life. All sorts of famous, wonderful people claim that the best part of life begins at 50. Oprah. Cher. Goldie Hawn. All folks with sufficient funds to lift, tuck and otherwise repair the ravages of old age.
Of course, there are the positives and negatives that inevitably come with any milestone. On surveys I am now grouped with the "45-60" gang. Not so bad. Being told by the doctor that "we don't heal as well as we used to at your age" (little putz. Is he even old enough to have graduated from high school, let alone med school?!?!?) and further humiliation at eye doctor. "Bifocals may be the way to go this time...." and the realization that there are just some things I won't ever do.
I won't ever fly an F14, be a rock star, or climb Mount Everest. the closest to any of these activities I achieve at this point is flying around in my Dodge Caravan, playing my guitar for an audience of two (both canine) and scaling the mountain of laundry that seems to accumulate wherever my teenager drops her things. I've come to embrace and cherish all of these things as how I chose to live my life. However, I was utterly unprepared this afternoon to go out to my mailbox and pull out the mail, casually leafing through it on my little front porch. Then I saw it.

A welcome to old age letter from AARP

! ! ! ! !

I am certain that the blood curdling scream that found its way from my antiquated, wheezy old lungs must have frightened the entire neighborhood. Dogs as far away as Kentucky howled in commiseration with my wails of humiliation. I've faced adversity before about my age. My oldest nephew once said to me when he was just a small lad of seven or eight, "WOW Aunt Donna! You were born in the FIFTIES??? Did you know FONZIE?"

Now all I have to do is pick out my next car. I'm leaning toward a blue-green buick with curb feelers.

2009-01-28T10:50:00.000-08:00

Donna's Winter Day Anthem
(sung to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Slogging through the snow
Meals on wheels in my hands
over drifts I go
gale force winds with blizzard snow bands!

the drifts up to my knees
ice and snow surround my toes
now I think I have to pee
oh, I really have to goooo!

oh, winter time, winter time, how I hate it so!
when I have to go to work and freeze
up to my knees in sno- ow!
winter time, winter time, how I hate to go
out when it is winter time to fall down in the snow.

TEENAGERS !

2009-01-04T19:44:00.000-08:00

A very wise friend of mine has a quote on her blog that I just love.

"Raising teenagers is like nailing jello to a tree."

After this weekend I have a thought to add to hers.

Wonderful teenaged daughter spent the entire weekend at a church retreat, for which we prepared greatly, spent hugely (snacks and food for the entire troop) and were excited about.
Being the parents that we are, we very much missed our little darling.
However, it became apparent to us very shortly after she arrived home that we should have enjoyed the bliss just a little more than we did.

My new mantra, "Teenagers are like all of the seven dwarfs rolled up into one person."

Sneezy ~ She arrived home with the sniffles. Nothing drastic, but the sniffles. I think I have picked up enough tissues now to use to cover even the biggest float in next year's Macy's parade.

Sleepy ~ After complaining loudly that the dog had her sofa spot, child plopped, and became unconscious. I mean OUT. A nuclear explosion could have taken place on the coffee table and she'd have slept through it. Except, of course, when dinner was ready. Suddenly awake!

Dopey ~ Forgive me, but I have to say it was pretty Dopey to wait until 8:10 on the Sunday before school is back in session to suddenly remember a ton of homework. Of course, our reminders over the past two weeks were met with.... GRUMPY.

Doc ~ She is smart, very smart in fact. Smart enough to amaze us, unfortunately, blinded by her belief that when she turned fifteen, we lost every single brain cell we used to posess. Honestly, we're so dumb at this point that we shouldn't be able to function beyond a drool.

Happy ~ This rare incarnation of sweetness and light is rarely spotted anyplace in the vicinity of Cleveland, Ohio.

Bashful ~ Not really applicable to sweet daughter. She's actually quite outgoing, unlike her parental unit sitting typing this blog!

Grumpy ~ See Dopey.

Letter to Barack Obama

2009-01-03T11:40:00.000-08:00

Today I received an email from the Inauguration Team for the President-Elect asking for a donation to help fund Inauguration Day.
Took me a few mintutes to find the email address to send a message, which is below:

Dear President Elect Obama:
I was so filled with hope. I donated money. I blogged, wrote letters. attended events. Talked up Mr. Obama to everyone and anyone.For the first time in my lifetime, I had hope. My family had hope. My 15 year-old daughter also worked tirelessly.We took time out from a schedule of church, school, volunteering with a local food bank and charity to do what we could. Took off of work to stand in line for hours before election day, at one polling place available to us in Cleveland, where we had to park blocks away and walk, and stand with thousands of others that wanted true change.Along with the change we hoped for, my little family also desired acceptance and equality.My partner and I have been together almost 30 years. We made the decision together to conceive our daughter, who we have raised to be a caring person, a true global citizen that wants to become a doctor and work with Doctors Without Borders.Unfortunately, equality is apparently out of reach for my family.Although I am in every respect my daughter's parent, I am not her biological mother. If I die, my social security cannot go to my partner to help care for my child and assist her in attaining her amazing goals.Why? I simply don't understand why my child's future is less important than my straight, married and even divorced neighbors.I had hope. Then Prop 8 passed. Aided and endorsed by the very man you've asked to deliver the invocation on inauguration day.When I received the email asking for a donation to help fund that day, I was crushed and put into my place all over again.Apparently my money is good enough, but my 30 year, faithful and loving relationship is not.The invitation to Rick Warren doesn't instill any hope in me whatsoever that I am going to be an equal citizen in the US any time soon.It's business as usual, and frankly sir, it's simply hurtful and a slap in the face to all of the individuals and families like mine that believed in you.

Thank Goodness for DVR !!!!!!!

2008-12-15T19:52:00.000-08:00

I had an awesome day today. My day began with my usual tune-in to the morning news program on ABC.
Today was so very different and special, though!
Apparently George W. Bush paid his farewell visit to Iraq yesterday. His "swan song" so to speak, a happy time for those of us that have spent the past eight years in utter humiliation with almost 100% of what this man said and did. I have no doubt that history will recognize this man as the buffoon he truly is. For anyone that still believes he's anything but a blithering idiot, today's news should remove all doubt.
During his news conference, a reporter removed his shoes, and one at a time, hurled them at our fearless leader's noggin. I have to give the man credit, he came pretty darned close with the second shoe!
I watched in complete adoration and glee as the shoes whizzed past "the shrub's" head, and felt compelled to rewind the moment on my DVR and watch it a half dozen times. It was especially fun one frame at a time.
Once the incident was over and the shoe tossing man had been taken into custody, Bush quipped that the shoes were size 10's, and that the reason the man threw the shoes was because he wanted his two minutes of TV time.
IDIOT! Would one think that after eight years in the position of President of the U.S., dealing with people in the Muslim world that he'd have a clue that the man winging his shoes at his head and calling him a dog insulted him in the worst possible way in that culture? Seriously?
Herein lies the root of the problem with Bush and his gang from day one.
Complete lack of understanding of the complexities of any part of the planet that ends at their noses.
Utter disregard for other cultures and beliefs.
Arrogant, stubborn refusal to ATTEMPT to figure out what causes people to behave the way they do in that part of the world, and finally, apparently, never bothering to try to learn.
Ignorance, at least apparently in the corner of the world inhabited by this bunch of chicken hawks, truly is bliss.
I just wish the shoe tosser had nailed him right between the eyes. Who knows, it may have even knocked some sense into him.
1-20-09..end of an error.

2008-12-12T16:30:00.000-08:00

This week our annual World Vision gift catalog arrived. For anyone unfamiliar with World Vision, it's an organization that globally works to improve the lives of impoverished people. Robin and I have been sponsors of children since the early 80's, when we saw a program on TV that told how a small amount of money per month from a sponsor can change people's lives.
The first child we sponsored was in the Phillipines. Her name was Nanette. Once she graduated from the program, we were assigned her younger sister. More kids through the years. Sadly, a boy we'd sponsored through his teenaged years was in the path of the horrible Tsunami, and was assumed lost by World Vision when I contacted them to see if he was OK. We take comfort in knowing that at least for part of his life we may have made things better for him. The child we were assigned thereafter is a small girl in frail health in Chile.
We are thrilled and excited each year when the gift catalog arrives. In it, one can purchase gifts like a dozen chickens for a family in the Sudan. Goats, milk cows, wells for clean water.
(Clean water? WOW!) Seeds. Fruit Trees. Clothing. Mosquito nets to prevent malaria. School supplies. It seems that in other countries the children actually WANT to go to school! The list of items that one can provide is endless. Some gifts cost as little as $15. Other gifts, like a barnyard of various animals, cost more.
I think the thing that our family likes most about this catalog and the time we spend leafing through it to select each year's gift of choice is the knowledge that we are blessed in our lives..not only blessed to be where we are on this beautiful spinning globe, but that we have enough. Enough to share. Enough to help. Enough to "spread around". It reminds me of the quote "There but for the grace of God go I" and it humbles me. That could be me. That could be my child.
The truth is, it IS me. It IS my child. We are all connected by this thing called life and responsibility. I am my brother's keeper. Some folks like to call this concept of spreading the wealth and sharing Socialism. So be it, call me what you will.
Recently, the financial "crisis" blew up into a disaster of epic proportions. I don't claim to be an economist, but one doesn't have to look too hard or have a fancy degree to see that a good bit of this problem was brought on by nothing more than good old fashioned GREED. Corporate CEO's that make millions after bankrupting a company.. private jets. Fifteen homes in fifteen different places. More money than one person could spend in their lifetime, the lifetimes of their children and grandchildren. Greed, pure and simple. In the world of these people, folks that need a mosquito net to avoid getting malaria while they sleep don't exist. It's sad and pathetic and so absurd that it's an abomination. The amount of money that just one of these people makes in a week would feed a small country of impoverished people for a year.
It's time that we acknowledge just how far off track we have gotten. It's past time that we begin doing what we were put on this Earth to do. Care for one another. Respect one another.
Understand that the faces of poor people we see on documentaries about far away places are really the faces of our brothers and sisters. It doesn't matter if they are Christian or Hindu or Muslim or Buddhist or if they have no affiliation. It seems to me that the Creator of us all would be all knowing enough to know that with the diversity of the human race that was placed here, different people would respond to different messengers. If one looks closely enough, it's easy to see that an awful lot of the messages that have been delivered through the ages are at their root the same message. That is, the messages as they were truly delivered, not as they have been manipulated by imperfect humans, but then that is certainly another blog...
As for me, I believe that the message I am in the mood to deliver tonight is in the form of the purchase a goat and a couple of dozen chickens.

Wedding Survival Tips From Dominic

2008-12-05T19:19:00.000-08:00

Even guys that are less than three feet tall can look cool in a tux!

The grown-ups are all really nervous. Running up and down the aisle pretending to be a race car is a nice distraction for them. If this doesn't work, try refusing to let them pin the flower on you. It'll take up some time and give them something to focus on besides throwing up.

Don't listen when they try to get you to put your toys away. People with important jobs at weddings can find time to play with their cars.

Ties suck. So do fancy shoes.

The lady with the big harp looks at you suspiciously every time you get near her tangle of cords and her stringy noisy thing. She doesn't know that you can do a better job playing it than she can, but maybe if you can get just a little closer.....

No matter how dressed up they make you get, be yourself.

Cool Things I Learned From A Child With Autism

2008-11-30T17:33:00.000-08:00

It doesn't matter if the chimpanzee signs back, it's
fun to sign "tree" and "ball" to him anyway!

The sound of a golf ball rolling from the front seat of the van to the back seat is hysterically funny.

Everyone laughs when kids say
"Oh Sh-t!"

Play-doh..Poop. Who decided why one is acceptable to play with and not the other?

Little victories are huge.

Kicking the cushions off of the sofa makes a fabulous trampoline.

Ball pits aren't just for kids. Teen-aged cousins and "grown-ups" like them, too!

Beagles are loud and obnoxious. The big fuzzy dog is a much better pillow anyway.

Watching the tires of a hot-wheels car roll is cool.

Grown-ups cry when hearing their name for the first time from a four-year old.

The sound of a cat hissing is awesome.

Different is OK.

People with Autism don't have a disability, they have a DIFFERENT ability:

"I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."

"Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them."

~Albert Einstein
Autism didn't stop him!

Angels above, Miracles below...

2008-11-27T06:41:00.000-08:00

I tell people that I have the world's best job. For me, working in a tiny municipality, driving senior citizens to their doctor appointments, delivering meals on wheels, and heading up a small non-profit charity that was originally started up by a lady that was a councilwoman there, a lunchroom lady by day, and a miracle worker other times, stealthy in her way of making sure every kid had a lunch, every family had food, clothing, dishes, whatever was needed.
She passed away far too young, after a brief and terrible fight with cancer. Our department was charged with taking her mission forward, which we do with as much gusto as we can muster in difficult economic times. We believe that she still watches over our efforts from above, making sure "her families" are taken care of through us.
Each year since I started with the department four years ago, the times have been more difficult for families struggling with illness, financial problems, substance abuse problems and more difficulties than not. We began a food pantry where moms can come "shop" for free when things are tough, subsisting on grant money we earn from taking classes at our local food bank, an anonymous donation of $100 per month, and most recently, my wonderful young cousin and his wife, who have made it their personal missions to help us by showing up weekly with food for our pantry room.
We toss ourselves out to the universe daily hoping for miracles, and amazingly, they happen over and over again.
This year is a shining example of the miracles that we see daily.
We had thirteen families that were in need of Thanksgiving meals. No money to do the job. Down to our last cans of vegetables..our food drive still two weeks away.
Into our office comes a fellow employee, from a different department. He hands us $40 in cash towards whatever we need.
Our $100 anonymous donation comes in.
Another co-worker arrives with marshmallows and stuffing mixes.
My cousin walks in with a turkey, enough fruit juice to cover our families for a month, and ten jars of turkey gravy. (we had three jars in the pantry!)
Within fifteen minutes of my cousin's departure, a business in the village that hadn't ever donated anything to our efforts before called, wanting our address. They're bringing TWELVE TURKEYS.
Fifteen minutes after that, my sister called from the store, wanting to know what else we need.
Now, if this kind of thing happened just once, one would be able to call it a really nice coincidence.
However, I strongly envision our Angel above, pulling the cosmic strings and orchestrating these small miracles, one at a time..not only to take care of our families, but to help remind me that the universe will take care of it. Everything will be OK.
Job well done, Jean. Thank you for the reminder that faith is all we need.

Drop Kick Me Jesus....

2008-11-17T17:49:00.000-08:00

Through the goalposts of life. Cool song, cooler thought. I'm sure whoever the person was that wrote those lyrics was serious as a heart attack, but I can't help giggling every time I envision Jesus removing his sandals and drop kicking me (good luck, Jesus) through great big goalposts.
The thought intrigues me, though. The sentiment. I guess with my mood disorder, maybe instead of the lineup of fancy medications with all of their fine side-effects.. just maybe what I really need is for Jesus to give me a good swift kick in my tookus. (sp?)
Ok, not a great day in the depression department, but not the worst. Progress?
Tomorrow will be stressful. Have a lot to accomplish before Thanksgiving and Christmas for Project Hope. Thank God for Cathe, who's been in the department longer than me and has a heart of gold, and Mary, a.k.a. "Biscuit" who at times carries her load and mine. Poor girl is really earning her spot in heaven, as if she needs to earn it. Some people are just born lit up from their Creator, she's one of them, as is my sweet daughter, Ang.
As for me, today I will congratulate myself for sticking it out at work till 2:30 and surviving a dark mood day. Have to start trying to see the good things around me. The snow was pretty. Nobody peed in the van today. Not a bad day after all.

Progress...of a sort

2008-11-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

The roller-coaster ride of Election 2008 is finally over. Like millions of other people ready for a change in our country, our family became very involved and wrapped up in the excitement over Barack Obama.
In the heels of that excitement was the passing of Prop 8 in California, which of course has the reputation of being "progressive" and we seriously thought that it would fail.
It did not, and California joins the other 30-odd states in the US that have now written into their Constitutions bans on gay marriage.
Wow.
Writing discrimination into Constitutions. Making it illegal for gay people to foster, adopt, visit their partner in the hospital. What's wrong with these people? Why is my family so scary?
My family. Started in high school when I spotted that pretty girl through the art room window.
Not really a pursuit to be honest, more of a friendship turned to relationship, morphed into parenthood and continued from the late 70's through today.
A regular life. Soccer moms, bills to pay. Work to do. Church, Sunday school. Charity work that we believe in strongly. A child that said last week that if giving her life peace could happen in the world, she'd do it. An amazing, bright and happy (and straight! take that, naysayers!) child, raised by two Moms. Pets, a house, a life pretty much like everyone else's life. Except we can't marry.
If I kick the bucket tomorrow, my Social Security evaporates instead of going to help raise the child I helped plan for..the child that I WANT to provide for in the event of my departure from this life.
It's not about anything more than that for me. If we haven't been "Married" for all of these years I don't know what to call it. Partner doesn't seem quite right when two people have made the kind of commitment that we have, endured and changed with each other and supported each other. I see straight counterparts give it up after a few years and wonder. I hear that certain churches, people that have been discriminated against in their own lives, have helped fund Prop 8 and I simply can't fathom why.
Is it because they are now on the "inside" and need inherently to keep someone else out, subconsciously thinking that if everyone is included that they somehow lose their position?
Isn't there room for everyone?
That's how I always thought. I know for a fact that a good portion of the young, white, idealistic nerdy types that went to the south during the Civil Rights era were GAY.
There because they believed that discrimination against one group equals discrimination against EVERYONE that is different.
I don't like being on the outside. It hurts to be told your relationship is wrong. It's sad to think that we can elect a black President and still believe that discrimination is ok.
Back to baby steps, only I think this one may have been backward, for my little family at least.

Baby Steps

2008-11-16T06:41:00.000-08:00

Blogging. I hear that it's therapeutic, and therapy that takes place in the privacy of my own office with my computer to listen instead of some highly paid head-shrinker that really doesn't care what's wrong with me is much more appealing.
My life. Nearly thirty years with the same person, teenaged daughter. Job that revolves around helping others. I have it all, and then some. So why do I need therapy of any kind?
Haven't a clue.
Meds, meds and more meds. Baby steps toward a possible future life of not always being afraid that the next bad thing is going to happen. Baby steps. One wobbly foot in front of the other.