Thursday, December 15, 2011
A Deliciously Resourceful Town Aims For Total Food Self-Sufficiency Within 7 Years
Andy Rooney's death was announced recently. This little piece could well serve to honor one whose last few years evidenced great wisdom, though, at the same time he became something of an ornery old dude. If you will take the time to read these, I promise you'll come away with an enlightened perspective. The subjects covered affect us all on a daily basis. They're written by Andy Rooney, a man who has the gift of saying so much with so few words. Enjoy.......
I've learned.... That the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.
I've learned.... That when you're in love, it shows.
I've learned.... That just one person saying to me, 'You've made my day!' makes my day.
I've learned.... That having a child fall asleep in your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world.
I've learned.... That being kind is more important than being right.
I've learned.... That you should never say no to a gift from a child.
I've learned.... That I can always pray for someone when I don't have the strength to help him in some other way.
I've learned.... That no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with now and then.
I've learned.... That sometimes all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to understand.
I've learned.... That simple walks with my father around the block on summer nights when I was a child did wonders for me as an adult.
I've learned.... That life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.
I've learned.... That we should be glad God doesn't give us everything we ask for.
I've learned.... That money doesn't buy class.
I've learned.... That it's those small daily happenings that make life so spectacular.
I've learned.... That under everyone's hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved.
I've learned.... That to ignore the facts does not change the facts.
I've learned.... That when you plan to get even with someone, you are only letting that person continue to hurt you.
I've learned.... That love, not time, heals all wounds.
I've learned.... That the easiest way for me to grow as a person is to surround myself with people smarter than I am.
I've learned.... That everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile.
I've learned.... That no one is perfect until you fall in love with them.
I've learned... That life is tough, but I'm tougher.
I've learned.... That opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.
I've learned.... That when you harbor bitterness, happiness will dock elsewhere.
I've learned.... That I wish I could have told my Mom that I love her one more time before she passed away.
I've learned.... That one should keep his words both soft and tender, because tomorrow he may have to eat them.
I've learned..... That a smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks.
I've learned..... That when your newly born grandchild holds your little finger in his little fist, that you're hooked for life.
I've learned.... That everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.
I've learned.... That the less time I have to work with, the more things I get done.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Interesting article from the Washington Post on Rick Perry's comments re: federal employees who refuse to submit...
"Federal worker union leaders responded angrily Wednesday to Texas Gov. Rick Perry’s suggestion that he would reassign subordinate federal employees to “a God-awful place” if they failed to implement policy changes he would make as president.
"In response to a question at a town hall meeting in Derry, N.H., on Tuesday, Perry said he planned to employ advisers and officials “that understand my core philosophy that government should do a few things, but do those few things really, really well.”
"Perry then delivered a warning to career federal staffers, using a hypothetical scenario at the Department of Health and Human Services as an example: “If you have Health and Human Service bureaucrats who try to block our being able to [send] block grant dollars back to the states, so you all can decide how best to deliver health care in New Hampshire — I don’t think you can fire federal bureaucrats, but you can reassign them. So, but, reassign them to some really God-awful place.”
"The line earned laughs from some in the assembled crowd but angry, personal retorts from union leaders.
"William R. Dougan, president of the National Federation of Federal Employees, said Perry “sees a political opportunity in painting federal workers as a symbol of big government, and he is exploiting it to the fullest.”
"“If Governor Perry wants to know what ‘a God-awful place’ looks like, he should imagine Texas without thousands of dedicated federal employees defending its border, staffing its VA hospitals, and extinguishing its wildfires,” Dougan said in a statement."
Get your head out of your a**, Perry. Or rather, just keep it in TX and leave the presidency to someone who knows the meaning of the words "diplomacy" and "cooperation."
Monday, November 28, 2011
My Mom always celebrated St. Nicholas' Day for us, and it has become a very sweet and special holiday for me, and I want to pass it down to Lucy and my family. It falls on December 6, and you can read about it here. Also, this is a link to another special bit of info, which talks about the children in Milwaukee celebrating the day, which must be part of Mom's roots...
Happy St. Nick's Day! Hang out your wish lists, and I hope you get a little treat (to be shared), not a lump of coal in your wooden shoe or stocking or under your bed (where our gifts always show up).
I wonder what St. Nicholas will place under Lucy's cradle...
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
This year, we will memorialize:
Dr. Arthur "Pete" Snyder - Scott's father, a wonderful, generous man and highly skilled surgeon who healed and touched the lives of so many in his 78 years. We will celebrate the Christmas holiday with his wife of 55 years, Scott's mom Fran.
Dorothy Alma "Ann" Holman - My maternal grandmother, and the sweetest, silliest, and most fun grandma I've known, mother to my darling mother. We were blessed by her memorial service in Wisconsin and the ensuing family reunion last month.
Judith Schaeffer - Scott and my previous boss and dear friend from Vermont. She was an incredible beacon in our book publishing industry, with so much knowledge and a pure love of the craft. She was a longtime and faithful best friend to Jessee and surrogate mother to Jennifer (and Kira), some of our other Vermont "family" members. She died suddenly and will be sorely missed.
And of course,
my beloved father, Larry Cox, who continues to live heartily and joyfully, if not sarcastically, in my heart. I feel your presence all the time, Dad; and though I am pissed you are not here to play with and utterly adore Miss Lucy, not to mention take her for special pancake breakfasts and fishing outings and camping trips, I know you are watching over us. I don't know much about the likelihood of a heaven, Dad, but I do know the absolute truth of your enduring spirit. I love you very much.
Please celebrate with us. Feel free to use the Comments button below to add your special loved ones' names. When I see the candles lit downtown, I will remember yours as well.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
by Allison Snyder
You are asleep on my chest,
your tiny body laced onto mine.
You are a mysterious traveler from a foreign land.
A halo of fluff covers your head;
in your delicate, lavender eyelids,
I can see the past, the future.
When your eyes open, light shoots through me.
Your heavenly bits are wearing thin, my darling,
now four months in this world.
You stir when a shiver of life runs through you.
You smell more of Dreft than of the ether.
Soon, your otherworldly memories and magic will disappear.
By the time you can speak, you will no longer be able to tell me
where you've been, where you were going.
"I love you!" I whisper urgently:
it's all I can think to say,
yet it encompasses everything.
"You're mine," and immediately
I know you never were,
but what I mean is: You're home now,
and I claim you.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
by April Lindner
Cold as a slap, this indigo sea,
where we clamber on blonde-fringed rocks,
where someone's tarted up the fishing shacks
with red paint and artful nets.
The sun floats like ice in a highball.
Condos train their plate-glass gazes
on the horizon, amnesiac
to past conspiracies of cloud,
storms that shook homes and swallowed boats.
Just north, a granite wall's etched with the lost—
decades of their half-remembered names.
Imagine waking always to this spread—
each day the ocean swelling
to loll at your feet, exotic pet.
The galleries glow, ripe with impasto,
sunsets we could be bite into:
raspberries, marzipan, seafoam like cream.
Their artists shoot for the numinous,
overlook the jagged and impermanent:
barnacles overtaking the dock,
clustered mussels, tangled kelp
and the steady lament
of pebbles tugged senseless from shore.
I am remembering many amazing moments spent at Halibut Point State Park, walking through the brush maze, peering over the crystalline quarry ledge, viewing the stunning ocean with its crashing waves and majestic rock outcroppings. I love this poem.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
An old life
Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
and drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
before Amy opened
to yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
beside Jane, still half-asleep,
thanks in the aquamarine morning.
Then I sat in my blue chair
with blueberry bagels and strong
black coffee reading news,
the obits, the comics, and the sports.
Carrying my cup twenty feet,
I sat myself at the desk
for this day's lifelong
engagement with the one task and desire.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
A love poem from the very center of life—from that mid-stage that is so often rushed and undefined, but is memorably chronicled in the poems of Sharon Olds.
In the middle of the night, when we get up
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Surprising - guess it's only us old ladies propagating the myth that everyone's waiting to have children...
Poll Results from PlanningFamily.com
How old were you (will you be) when your first child was born?
Under the age of 20
21 to 25
26 to 30
31 to 35
36 to 40
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
"On average, children two to five years old spend 32 hours a week in front of a TV and they will have watched an average of 8,000 murders before they finish elementary school. Is this replacing healthy activities such as playing outside, eating dinner as a family, reading, and building family unity? Well-planned family time can be a foundation for joy and influence to last a lifetime. Family time provides your children with feelings of love, security, stability, and support.
"If you are trying to conceive, or are pregnant, the TV could still be getting in the way of your relationship. The average adult watches more than 28 hours of TV a week (that's two straight months a year)! If you're stuck in a rut, if TV has taken over, or if you aren't sure what activities will keep everyone happy, here are some helpful hints for fun family-time activities. Put the remote down and play on!"
Wow - disturbing stats. Do you think that's true? Needless to say, I promptly printed out the "backyard games" list, so Frisbee, here we come!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Reminds me of focusing on the important things I most love, and not frittering away my time - and more importantly, my energy - on things I "should" do (as deemed by myself or others).
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Prayer for Our Daughters
by Mark Jarman
May they never be lonely at parties
Or wait for mail from people they haven't written
Or still in middle age ask God for favors
Or forbid their children things they were never forbidden.
May hatred be like a habit they never developed
And can't see the point of, like gambling or heavy drinking.
If they forget themselves, may it be in music
Or the kind of prayer that makes a garden of thinking.
May they enter the coming century
Like swans under a bridge into enchantment
And take with them enough of this century
To assure their grandchildren it really happened.
May they find a place to love, without nostalgia
For some place else that they can never go back to.
And may they find themselves, as we have found them,
Complete at each stage of their lives, each part they add to.
May they be themselves, long after we've stopped watching.
May they return from every kind of suffering
(Except the last, which doesn't bear repeating)
And be themselves again, both blessed and blessing.
"Prayer for Our Daughters" by Mark Jarman, from Bone Fires: New and Selected Poems. © Sarabande Books, 2011.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
by William Wordsworth
I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played:
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
But the least motion which they made,
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
He stood bundled up in the coats he had, at a busy traffic intersection by a strip mall. I did not have any cash - I rarely do anymore, now that most places take a credit/debit card. I rustled through the car looking for my pregnancy snacks - which at this point, consist of a mostly-eaten bag of trail mix, a frozen solid granola bar, and a few frozen water bottles. Not exactly helpful. I thought, "Do I hand him my emergency pair of socks or Dad's IOWA sweatshirt to keep warm?" What is the right thing to do in these situations - I never know. I do know that doing nothing is rarely an option, and I would rather err on the side of gullible and taken advantage of than cold-hearted and blind to the suffering around me.
So you give a 'bum' $20 and he spends it on alcohol. Well, what if he spends it on food to feed his freezing children who are huddled under the bridge in a cardboard box, and likely will not make it through this cold night? That's a chance I am willing to take.
This man is my community, my neighbor, in my town. He is 'my people.' And there are plenty of homeless folks in Concord, all quite chilly tonight. There are a few homeless shelters, and yes, not everyone takes advantage of them. It is statistically true that many homeless people suffer from various forms of mental illness. Does this make them not worthy of warmth, shelter, clothes on their back or food in their bellies? If their pride or insanity keeps them from going to a shelter, does this mean that freezing to death is justified?
So what I did, misdirected or not, was swing around the block, get Scott's and my dinner at Boloco as planned, and pick up a $10 Boloco gift card for the homeless man. I thought, burrito: sustaining rice, fresh vegetables, hearty meat - hot meal that can be eaten with the hands and without utensils (or pretense)...what's not to love? This whole process took about 5 minutes.
I drove back through the previous intersection, snow piled high on both sides, and he was gone. This has happened to me before, and I don't know (karmically) what it means.
But now I drive around town with my Boloco gift card, ready to be handed out the window the next time I see one of my Concord neighbors suffering in this blistering cold winter weather. I encourage you to do the same.
burrito gift card: $10. minutes spent getting a gift card: 5. saving a life (or just warming a heart for a minute, showing someone you care about their existence in this world): priceless.
Pass it on.
p.s. Tonight we tried the Bangkok Thai burrito with chicken and the Classic Mexican with pork - yummmmm-tastic! Scott wanted to drive back to town to get more, though he was full! He especially loved the Thai, and so did I.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
down. She is heavy with it. It
wrings her. The great weight
is heaved out of her. It eases.
She moves into what she has become,
ure in her fate now
as a fish free in the current.
She turns to the calf who has broken
out of the womb's water and its veil.
He breathes. She licks his wet hair.
He gathers his legs under him
and rises. He stands, and his legs
wobble. After the months
of his pursuit of her, now
they meet face to face.
From the beginnings of the world
his arrival and her welcome
have been prepared. They have always
known each other.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Simple Woman's Daybook
FOR TODAY, January 10, 2011
Outside My Window...is that perfect blue night-approaching sky, the color you can only see between dusk and darkness. The world is illuminated in beauty and possibility.
I am thinking...that many of you may not know yet that I am pregnant. And happy to be so. And finally content.
I am thankful for...having a job and going into my second year there. My boss is wonderful and I have learned so much in the past year.
From the kitchen...I really ought to be making something tonight. I have done so little cooking, as I have been sooooo tired. I think tonight will be taco night, with a side of rice with corn in it.
I am wearing...one of the few pairs of pants I can still fit into. They are stretchy. Oh, the power of the drawstring.
I am creating...human life, as I like to remind Scott. ;) Well, I am merely the vessel. But it is pretty amazing to think of a real living being inside me, akin to Sigourney Weaver in "Alien"...or maybe something more beautiful than that.
I am going...to really purge this house of unneeded stuff. We gotta make room for another person in this life of ours, not to mention this condo. I have too many knick-knacks (yes, Laurel), and books, old clothes that don't fit and bags of projects I might do SOMEday. When IS this someday and how on earth will I have time for all those projects??
I am reading...
well, I WAS reading "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius," by Dave Eggers, when the news hit and the hormones came on, full force. And then I hibernated for three months. And here we are, week 14, and I am getting a semblance of energy back, ever so slowly, and now all I can seem to read is "Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy" and "What to Expect When You're Expecting"! So cliche. But, mama's gotta conserve her energy. And Dave Eggers isn't gonna tell me what the hell a tilted uterus is! But I really do need to get back to that book...
I am hoping...that Michele will know how much I love and respect her and not have to stop talking to me because I got pregnant (though I would totally understand if that is the case. We have both been through the ringer...).
I am hearing...ick, and SMELLING, the cat going potty in the catbox. Damn supersonic sense of smell!
Around the house...I still have my Christmas decorations up, and this weekend - yes - they really are getting packed away until next year.
One of my favorite things...is spending time with friends, and I really, really miss them all. So many dear ones too far away. I need some girl time, some coffee time, some gay best friend time, some walk and talk time, some drinks after work and laughing our heads off time.
A few plans for the rest of the week...include some horrible dental work - expensive and painful. Good times. Me on Wednesday and Scott too, on Friday. But then a hopefully relaxing three day weekend with Martin Luther King Jr's Bday on Monday.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...
And there you have it, my Simple Woman's Daybook. View other entries at The Simple Woman's Daybook. Try writing one yourself if you feel inspired.