tonight came when Pearl was following me in my CRV as I returned the U Haul truck, and we were cruising down Meridian. I was feeling pretty comfortable with the rig after driving it all day, not worrying too much about keeping my speed low, but when I came to a yellow light I didn't want to lose Pearl, so I stopped rather abruptly. Okay, I slammed on the brakes. BAM!!! The dolly in the back of the truck slammed into the front of the truck with the sound of an 8 gauge shotgun going off behind me.
It got my attention.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Elation From a Job Well Done
Today I moved a large sewing room and another room full of boxes and some other miscellaneous stuff out of my husband's house, as he was evicted without prior warning to me [I live separately in a townhouse.] I brought my daughter, picked up a 10 foot U-Haul truck, and we drove to Eatonville. There was supposed to be a crew to help us, paid for by the previous owner, but they never showed up. Fortunately I had already secured my three sewing machines and my most important tools when I came down to make arrangements to pick up my things.
I bagged fabric and Pearl boxed up tools and notions and patterns, and the new owners asked their adult children to help move some of the most important furniture. I was fortunate to locate two stashes of my Queen Bess silverware, a wok, and so forth, and pick up a down comforter, a bedspread I made many years ago, and one of my old prayer books with personal notes and prayers written in, which I found upstairs on the third floor. A lot of other items were impossible to locate, however, as the new owners have boxed most things up and it's not possible to get to everything.
I brought down two flights of stairs eight very large terra cotta "bricks" and 4 large shelving "boards" for a "bricks and boards" book case system I've been moving around for years, which were on the third floor. By this time my quadricepts were like jelly. Then I brought down the boxes, loaded up a carpet which I had hand-finished the edges of when I set up the sewing room, and did the final clearing out. The entire job took five hours. The last time I had to disassemble a sewing room it took months and a paid professional to help me sort out the miscellaneous minutia.
We finally drove home, completely exhausted, to face the task of unloading the truck and my car, this time with only the two of us. I fetched items from the truck while Pearl stacked them up neatly in the garage, then the two of us figured out how to unload a large particle board shelving system, and an extremely heavy cabinet which folds out to create a 6 by 4 foot work surface of the correct height. We unloaded the entire truck, plus my CRV, all by ourselves, and nothing was broken, including us.
No more parking in the garage until I get my sewing room set up at my townhouse. Sniff. A good motivator.
We had to stop at a gas station for both vehicles on the way back to U Haul, and were separated when Pearl behind me turned into a gas station and I didn't. So I got the rig turned around on Meridian and came back for her, gassed up and returned the U Haul after the office was closed.
Then we went for a well-deserved, healthy but delicious Indian dinner, and back home for a hot shower, with a sense of elation for all we accomplished.
In one of Baha'u'llah's Writings He points out that we ought not to pride ourselves on our possessions, because we may own them today, but tomorrow, others will own them. There is nothing like an eviction to reinforce that lesson.
I bagged fabric and Pearl boxed up tools and notions and patterns, and the new owners asked their adult children to help move some of the most important furniture. I was fortunate to locate two stashes of my Queen Bess silverware, a wok, and so forth, and pick up a down comforter, a bedspread I made many years ago, and one of my old prayer books with personal notes and prayers written in, which I found upstairs on the third floor. A lot of other items were impossible to locate, however, as the new owners have boxed most things up and it's not possible to get to everything.
I brought down two flights of stairs eight very large terra cotta "bricks" and 4 large shelving "boards" for a "bricks and boards" book case system I've been moving around for years, which were on the third floor. By this time my quadricepts were like jelly. Then I brought down the boxes, loaded up a carpet which I had hand-finished the edges of when I set up the sewing room, and did the final clearing out. The entire job took five hours. The last time I had to disassemble a sewing room it took months and a paid professional to help me sort out the miscellaneous minutia.
We finally drove home, completely exhausted, to face the task of unloading the truck and my car, this time with only the two of us. I fetched items from the truck while Pearl stacked them up neatly in the garage, then the two of us figured out how to unload a large particle board shelving system, and an extremely heavy cabinet which folds out to create a 6 by 4 foot work surface of the correct height. We unloaded the entire truck, plus my CRV, all by ourselves, and nothing was broken, including us.
No more parking in the garage until I get my sewing room set up at my townhouse. Sniff. A good motivator.
We had to stop at a gas station for both vehicles on the way back to U Haul, and were separated when Pearl behind me turned into a gas station and I didn't. So I got the rig turned around on Meridian and came back for her, gassed up and returned the U Haul after the office was closed.
Then we went for a well-deserved, healthy but delicious Indian dinner, and back home for a hot shower, with a sense of elation for all we accomplished.
In one of Baha'u'llah's Writings He points out that we ought not to pride ourselves on our possessions, because we may own them today, but tomorrow, others will own them. There is nothing like an eviction to reinforce that lesson.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Baha'u'llah and the Mind-Blowing Creator
Seems like there is so much calamity in my life, I never know what to pray about first. I'd like to pray for mercy but then I remember:
My calamity is My providence. Outwardly it is fire and vengeance, inwardly it is light and mercy.
~Baha'u'llah
So if I prayed for mercy I'd probably get more of the same.
I find it comforting to read the Writings of Baha'u'llah, however challenging.
I keep coming back lately to the same remarkable essay by Baha'u'llah, number XXVII in Gleanings of the Writings of Baha'u'llah, which builds beautifully one concept after another. It would not be possible to quote from it extensively, however, I would like to share some highlights.
Concept # One, in the initial paragraph, describes how God created the Universe out of nothingness. This is a paradox to the human mind, because there are passages where 'Abdu'l-Baha states that the quality or name of the Creator is inherent in the Unknowable Essence we call God, so there was no time the creation did not exist. Using the analogy of our sun in the solar system, part of the essence of the sun is the quality of releasing or putting out rays of light and heat: if the rays were not released, the sun would not be the sun. So as long as there has been a Creator, there has been a creation. And yet, in this passage Baha'u'llah describes the universe being created from nothingness:
All-praise to the unity of God, and all-honor to Him, the sovereign Lord, the incomparable and all-glorious Ruler of the universe, Who, out of utter nothingness, hath created the reality of all things, Who, from naught, hath brought into being the most refined and subtle elements of His creation, and Who, rescuing His creatures from the abasement of remoteness and the perils of ultimate extinction, hath received them into His kingdom of incorruptible glory.
There are two parts to this process: being created, and being rescued from a state of remoteness from God. So to the limited and logical, linear human mind this is a paradox, that the creation is a never-beginning, never-ending process, by the Creator.
Nothing short of His all-encompassing grace, His all-pervading mercy, could have possibly achieved it. How could it, otherwise, have been possible for sheer nothingness to have acquired by itself the worthiness and capacity to emerge from its state of non-existence into the realm of being?
I had never thought of this notion before, that to come into existence requires capacity and worthiness. Everything, from the Big Bang to the initial squirms of life in the primordial soup, to the emergence of oxygen-creating microbes which changed the atmosphere into what is currently breathable to life as we know it, depended on the light and mercy of God.
Leapfrogging over most of this passage, more is revealed. Even the continued existence of the creation from one moment to the next is dependent on God:
There can be no doubt whatever that if for one moment the tide of His mercy and grace were to be withheld from the world, it would completely perish.
One might look at the Creator as cruel, unpleasant, despotic, and controlling, to think that every breath we take is dependent on Him. As humans like to be in control of our lives, it is a disconcerting thought. But the more positive thought is that we exist because of God's love for us, because He loved His creation, and we were created and continue to be created from moment to moment because of God's grace and mercy. That would be the humble way to see the position of creation and humankind in the universe.
So, the Universe, Life, and Everything We Know About has been created and is continually in the process of being created. God's not done yet.
Concept # Two:
[From the same passage]: Having created the world and all that liveth and moveth therein, He, through the direct operation of His unconstrained and sovereign Will, chose to confer upon man the unique distinction and capacity to know Him and to Love Him--a capacity that must needs be regarded as the generating impulse and the primary purpose underlying the whole of creation . . . Upon the inmost reality of each and every created thing He hath shed the light of one of His names, and made it a recipient of the glory of one of His attributes. Upon the reality of man, however, He hath focused the radiance of all of His names and attributes, and made it a mirror of His own Self. Alone of all created things man hath been singled out for so great a favor, so enduring a bounty.
For readers of the Bible, we may recognize that man [humankind, not just males] was created in God's image. We potentially may reflect all of God's attributes, and have the capacity to know and love God. This leads to:
Concept # Three: These energies with which the Day Star of Divine bounty and Source of heavenly guidance hath endowed the reality of man lie, however, latent within him, even as the flame is hidden within the candle and the rays of light are potentially present within the lamp. The radiance of these energies may be obscured by worldly desires even as the light of the sun can be concealed beneath the dust and dross which cover the mirror. Neither the candle nor the lamp can be lighted through their own unaided efforts, nor can it ever be possible for the mirror to free itself from its dross. It is clear and evident that until the fire is kindled the lamp will never be ignited, and unless the dross is blotted out from the face of the mirror it can never represent the image of the sun nor reflect its light and glory.
So here is a human soul with the potential to reflect the attributes of God, and with the unique capacity to know and love God, but unable to do so without outside assistance. What will happen next?
Concept # Four: And since there can be no tie of direct intercourse to bind the one true God with His creation, and no resemblance whatever can exist between the transient and the Eternal, the contingent and the Absolute, He hath ordained that in every age and dispensation a pure and stainless Soul be manifest in the kingdoms of earth and heaven.
Baha'u'llah goes on to say that this Soul, this "mysterious and ethereal Being" has a twofold nature: physical and spiritual; and a double station: the Voice of God Himself, and the human station. These Souls are what the Baha'i Writings refer to as "Manifestations of God," who have come in every time and at whatever place They are most sorely needed, to communicate from God to humankind.
From the foregoing passages and allusions it hath been made indubitably clear that in the kingdoms of earth and heaven there must needs be manifested a Being, and Essence Who shall act as a Manifestation and Vehicle for the transmission of the grace of the Divinity Itself, the sovereign Lord of all. Through the teachings of this Day Star of Truth every man will advance and develop until he attaineth the station at which he can manifest all the potential forces with which his inmost true self hath been endowed. It is for this purpose that in every age and dispensation the Prophets of God and His chosen Ones have appeared amongst men, and have evinced such power as is born of God and such might as only the Eternal can reveal.
Concept # Five:I will say this, then let Baha'u'llah have the last word: the outpouring of God's Grace is never ending. These Manifestations of God will continue to appear forever: Can one of sane mind ever seriously imagine that, in view of certain words the meaning of which he cannot comprehend, the portal of God's infinite guidance can ever be closed in the face of men? Can he ever conceive for these Divine Luminaries, these resplendent Lights either a beginning or an end? What outpouring flood can compare with the stream of His all-embracing grace, and what blessing can excel the evidences of so great and pervasive a mercy? . . . From the beginning that hath no beginning the portals of Divine mercy have been flung open to the face of all created things, and the clouds of Truth will continue to the end that hath no end to rain on the soil of human capacity, reality and personality their favors and bounties. Such hath been God's method continued from everlasting to everlasting.
My calamity is My providence. Outwardly it is fire and vengeance, inwardly it is light and mercy.
~Baha'u'llah
So if I prayed for mercy I'd probably get more of the same.
I find it comforting to read the Writings of Baha'u'llah, however challenging.
I keep coming back lately to the same remarkable essay by Baha'u'llah, number XXVII in Gleanings of the Writings of Baha'u'llah, which builds beautifully one concept after another. It would not be possible to quote from it extensively, however, I would like to share some highlights.
Concept # One, in the initial paragraph, describes how God created the Universe out of nothingness. This is a paradox to the human mind, because there are passages where 'Abdu'l-Baha states that the quality or name of the Creator is inherent in the Unknowable Essence we call God, so there was no time the creation did not exist. Using the analogy of our sun in the solar system, part of the essence of the sun is the quality of releasing or putting out rays of light and heat: if the rays were not released, the sun would not be the sun. So as long as there has been a Creator, there has been a creation. And yet, in this passage Baha'u'llah describes the universe being created from nothingness:
All-praise to the unity of God, and all-honor to Him, the sovereign Lord, the incomparable and all-glorious Ruler of the universe, Who, out of utter nothingness, hath created the reality of all things, Who, from naught, hath brought into being the most refined and subtle elements of His creation, and Who, rescuing His creatures from the abasement of remoteness and the perils of ultimate extinction, hath received them into His kingdom of incorruptible glory.
There are two parts to this process: being created, and being rescued from a state of remoteness from God. So to the limited and logical, linear human mind this is a paradox, that the creation is a never-beginning, never-ending process, by the Creator.
Nothing short of His all-encompassing grace, His all-pervading mercy, could have possibly achieved it. How could it, otherwise, have been possible for sheer nothingness to have acquired by itself the worthiness and capacity to emerge from its state of non-existence into the realm of being?
I had never thought of this notion before, that to come into existence requires capacity and worthiness. Everything, from the Big Bang to the initial squirms of life in the primordial soup, to the emergence of oxygen-creating microbes which changed the atmosphere into what is currently breathable to life as we know it, depended on the light and mercy of God.
Leapfrogging over most of this passage, more is revealed. Even the continued existence of the creation from one moment to the next is dependent on God:
There can be no doubt whatever that if for one moment the tide of His mercy and grace were to be withheld from the world, it would completely perish.
One might look at the Creator as cruel, unpleasant, despotic, and controlling, to think that every breath we take is dependent on Him. As humans like to be in control of our lives, it is a disconcerting thought. But the more positive thought is that we exist because of God's love for us, because He loved His creation, and we were created and continue to be created from moment to moment because of God's grace and mercy. That would be the humble way to see the position of creation and humankind in the universe.
So, the Universe, Life, and Everything We Know About has been created and is continually in the process of being created. God's not done yet.
Concept # Two:
[From the same passage]: Having created the world and all that liveth and moveth therein, He, through the direct operation of His unconstrained and sovereign Will, chose to confer upon man the unique distinction and capacity to know Him and to Love Him--a capacity that must needs be regarded as the generating impulse and the primary purpose underlying the whole of creation . . . Upon the inmost reality of each and every created thing He hath shed the light of one of His names, and made it a recipient of the glory of one of His attributes. Upon the reality of man, however, He hath focused the radiance of all of His names and attributes, and made it a mirror of His own Self. Alone of all created things man hath been singled out for so great a favor, so enduring a bounty.
For readers of the Bible, we may recognize that man [humankind, not just males] was created in God's image. We potentially may reflect all of God's attributes, and have the capacity to know and love God. This leads to:
Concept # Three: These energies with which the Day Star of Divine bounty and Source of heavenly guidance hath endowed the reality of man lie, however, latent within him, even as the flame is hidden within the candle and the rays of light are potentially present within the lamp. The radiance of these energies may be obscured by worldly desires even as the light of the sun can be concealed beneath the dust and dross which cover the mirror. Neither the candle nor the lamp can be lighted through their own unaided efforts, nor can it ever be possible for the mirror to free itself from its dross. It is clear and evident that until the fire is kindled the lamp will never be ignited, and unless the dross is blotted out from the face of the mirror it can never represent the image of the sun nor reflect its light and glory.
So here is a human soul with the potential to reflect the attributes of God, and with the unique capacity to know and love God, but unable to do so without outside assistance. What will happen next?
Concept # Four: And since there can be no tie of direct intercourse to bind the one true God with His creation, and no resemblance whatever can exist between the transient and the Eternal, the contingent and the Absolute, He hath ordained that in every age and dispensation a pure and stainless Soul be manifest in the kingdoms of earth and heaven.
Baha'u'llah goes on to say that this Soul, this "mysterious and ethereal Being" has a twofold nature: physical and spiritual; and a double station: the Voice of God Himself, and the human station. These Souls are what the Baha'i Writings refer to as "Manifestations of God," who have come in every time and at whatever place They are most sorely needed, to communicate from God to humankind.
From the foregoing passages and allusions it hath been made indubitably clear that in the kingdoms of earth and heaven there must needs be manifested a Being, and Essence Who shall act as a Manifestation and Vehicle for the transmission of the grace of the Divinity Itself, the sovereign Lord of all. Through the teachings of this Day Star of Truth every man will advance and develop until he attaineth the station at which he can manifest all the potential forces with which his inmost true self hath been endowed. It is for this purpose that in every age and dispensation the Prophets of God and His chosen Ones have appeared amongst men, and have evinced such power as is born of God and such might as only the Eternal can reveal.
Concept # Five:I will say this, then let Baha'u'llah have the last word: the outpouring of God's Grace is never ending. These Manifestations of God will continue to appear forever: Can one of sane mind ever seriously imagine that, in view of certain words the meaning of which he cannot comprehend, the portal of God's infinite guidance can ever be closed in the face of men? Can he ever conceive for these Divine Luminaries, these resplendent Lights either a beginning or an end? What outpouring flood can compare with the stream of His all-embracing grace, and what blessing can excel the evidences of so great and pervasive a mercy? . . . From the beginning that hath no beginning the portals of Divine mercy have been flung open to the face of all created things, and the clouds of Truth will continue to the end that hath no end to rain on the soil of human capacity, reality and personality their favors and bounties. Such hath been God's method continued from everlasting to everlasting.
Friday, December 9, 2011
If I Only Had a Mind
This is how crazy the last three days have been: I arrived in University Place from Puyallup for my appointment on the last whiff of gas in the tank. This almost never happens. I always look for a place to fill up at a quarter tank. Obsessive. So a line popped into my head while I was filling the tank, "my life is so chaotic," it turned eventually into this familiar ditty with new words:
Oh, my life is so chaotic
My brain is cyanotic,
My thoughts all left behind.
I could sort out all my papers,
I could get over the vapors
If I only had a mind.
Oh, my life is so chaotic
My brain is cyanotic,
My thoughts all left behind.
I could sort out all my papers,
I could get over the vapors
If I only had a mind.
Danger Averted With a Happy Ending
The other evening at work went beyond hectic to chaotic, so when I was approached by an upset family member not once, but twice, I had a horrible sinking feeling that my organization for the day was shot if I gave her more time than I had to. Also I have an instinctive fear of angry people, so I avoid them rather than approaching and trying to establish a rapport. Penny wise and pound foolish, as she complained to the management and I was suspended the next day, and spent the next two days off in a fever of anxiety about whether or not I would get to keep my job.
I prayed a lot, meditated, tried to keep myself from beating myself up too much, and thought about how to prepare myself psychologically to drop everything at any time for any reason, cheerfully. This is called "customer service." I didn't get as much done on my days off as I would normally have.
Today [Friday] I waited to hear from the DNS, as I was normally scheduled Saturday and Sunday, and had just about resigned myself to having them off instead of working. I went to an appointment, picked out a gift for my daughter's birthday, and was returning to Puyallup to have my PPD read* and wondering if it was moot, pulled into the parking lot at work as my phone was ringing with an unfamiliar number. It was the DNS, asking to see me.
In his office, he said that a lot of people think I have a cold demeanor, but that there was really nothing to the complaint against me. So I gave my version of how I would be very happy to work on improving my approach to people, and he set up some sort of remedial sessions with the staff development individual, and I believe there was a meeting of the minds. And I have my job.
Cause for celebration, so I went out to India Karma with my husband and daughter and we had Vegetable Korma, Bharta with tandoor-roasted eggplant pureed and spiced, with peas and potatoes or whatever, Channa Masala as my husband likes garbanzos, and an extra dish of Vegetable Biryani. I like to have things to bring home. Also my daughter ordered Saag Naan, which is sprinkled with spinach and delicious, and we had Papadum as an appetizer. I discovered they have mango juice, which is just about as good as Mango Lassi which is made with yogurt, which I am avoiding as a dairy product.
Yum.
*PPD: a test to see if one has been exposed to Tuberculosis, which is read by a nurse in 2-3 days so is time sensitive.
I prayed a lot, meditated, tried to keep myself from beating myself up too much, and thought about how to prepare myself psychologically to drop everything at any time for any reason, cheerfully. This is called "customer service." I didn't get as much done on my days off as I would normally have.
Today [Friday] I waited to hear from the DNS, as I was normally scheduled Saturday and Sunday, and had just about resigned myself to having them off instead of working. I went to an appointment, picked out a gift for my daughter's birthday, and was returning to Puyallup to have my PPD read* and wondering if it was moot, pulled into the parking lot at work as my phone was ringing with an unfamiliar number. It was the DNS, asking to see me.
In his office, he said that a lot of people think I have a cold demeanor, but that there was really nothing to the complaint against me. So I gave my version of how I would be very happy to work on improving my approach to people, and he set up some sort of remedial sessions with the staff development individual, and I believe there was a meeting of the minds. And I have my job.
Cause for celebration, so I went out to India Karma with my husband and daughter and we had Vegetable Korma, Bharta with tandoor-roasted eggplant pureed and spiced, with peas and potatoes or whatever, Channa Masala as my husband likes garbanzos, and an extra dish of Vegetable Biryani. I like to have things to bring home. Also my daughter ordered Saag Naan, which is sprinkled with spinach and delicious, and we had Papadum as an appetizer. I discovered they have mango juice, which is just about as good as Mango Lassi which is made with yogurt, which I am avoiding as a dairy product.
Yum.
*PPD: a test to see if one has been exposed to Tuberculosis, which is read by a nurse in 2-3 days so is time sensitive.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Dahl Soup, Beet Applique, and Moth Dreams
Went back to Eatonville yesterday evening where my sewing room is and this morning started work on a uniform top with extra embellishment. I had found some fabric of a muted dark red perfect for beets, and some complimentary floral fabric with similar reds and greens, so for the first time I decorated a uniform top. I appliqued a bunch of beets with greens on the back of the top. That's as far as I got. [I will sew the top on my next visit.]
I like the effect, and the beets seem realistic, and the greens are good, but it's out of balance. There are no stems between the beets and the leaves. I had forgotten what an important part the stems play in the conformation of a bunch of beets, maybe because I enjoy the stems less than the beets and greens. Too late to fix it now.
It reminds me of the latest project I made, a duvet cover for a silk comforter I had gotten at the Fair. I had picked up books on butterflies and copied the shapes from the book for appliques on the cover. A couple of weeks later, after so much hard work, I finally figured out what made me uneasy about the whole deal. The shape of the butterflies was not one you would find in nature in a live butterfly--still, with the wings outspread. Butterflies rest with their wings together. The butterflies photographed for the book were probably deceased. I tell myself they are just resting moths . . .
A lovely 24 hours out of town, fixing up a room for myself so my husband can listen to the TV all night long and sleep. I can't sleep with it on and he can't sleep with it off. So we accepted reality and both slept well. In the morning I sewed and he made dahl soup with red lentils, potatoes, garlic, and lemon juice. Absolutely delicious. I hated to leave, but had chores at home.
Dahl Soup
1 cup red lentils
6 to 8 cups water
2 to 3 baking potatoes
4 to 5 peeled garlic cloves [adjust according to taste]
4 lemons or limes, cut in half and juiced
salt to taste
Put lentils, water, potatoes, garlic and salt in water and cook on medium heat about 45 minutes or until potatoes are tender and lentils are dissolved. Stir in lemon juice at the end.
I like the effect, and the beets seem realistic, and the greens are good, but it's out of balance. There are no stems between the beets and the leaves. I had forgotten what an important part the stems play in the conformation of a bunch of beets, maybe because I enjoy the stems less than the beets and greens. Too late to fix it now.
It reminds me of the latest project I made, a duvet cover for a silk comforter I had gotten at the Fair. I had picked up books on butterflies and copied the shapes from the book for appliques on the cover. A couple of weeks later, after so much hard work, I finally figured out what made me uneasy about the whole deal. The shape of the butterflies was not one you would find in nature in a live butterfly--still, with the wings outspread. Butterflies rest with their wings together. The butterflies photographed for the book were probably deceased. I tell myself they are just resting moths . . .
A lovely 24 hours out of town, fixing up a room for myself so my husband can listen to the TV all night long and sleep. I can't sleep with it on and he can't sleep with it off. So we accepted reality and both slept well. In the morning I sewed and he made dahl soup with red lentils, potatoes, garlic, and lemon juice. Absolutely delicious. I hated to leave, but had chores at home.
Dahl Soup
1 cup red lentils
6 to 8 cups water
2 to 3 baking potatoes
4 to 5 peeled garlic cloves [adjust according to taste]
4 lemons or limes, cut in half and juiced
salt to taste
Put lentils, water, potatoes, garlic and salt in water and cook on medium heat about 45 minutes or until potatoes are tender and lentils are dissolved. Stir in lemon juice at the end.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Friends and Family
Yesterday was joy. Would have blogged about it then but too busy having the day.
Saturday tried to make Three Sisters Fry Bread with cornmeal, beans and squash, from a VegNews article/recipe by Robin Roberston, website also globalvegankitchen.com. I believe my primary mistake was to make something fried; also I used too much water so the dough was sticky; also I probably used too high of heat. In any case I ended up with oily, hard, overcooked patties instead of something light and nutritious.
I had plenty of dough left so Sunday morning I made muffins with the rest of the dough, which were pretty dense, but edible. I brought these as well as some of my rye bread to the Waffle Devotional, and my daughter came with me. We had a wonderful Giving Thanks themed devotional, met and reconnected with some lovely people, and then went out shopping.
Our hot culture stores of choice were St. Vincent de Paul, Goodwill, and then Hancock Fabrics. We scored some great boots for my daughter and a warm cotton bedspread [for use as a blanket, as I already have a comforter] for me.
At Hancock Fabrics we replaced the sewing kit that people barred her from retrieving from her most recent living situation, and we found some great coordinating upholstery fabric for recovering my dining chairs and making a tablecloth. For the tablecloth I found a linen-type fabric with equal ~4-inch stripes of sand and sage; for the chairs, the same fabric with a sand background and 1-inch sage polka dots.
This may be the first time I actually came home from an outing and turned around and started a project then and there. For recovering the chair seats, I hadn't thought about getting or locating more upholstery tacks, so I had to recycle the tacks I could pry out of the bottom of the seats, and try to hold the fabric in place with wide tape, use minimal tacks, and then reapply the chair frames to the seats. The first one turned out somewhat sloppy, so I redid it.
For the tablecloth, the selvedges of the fabric were finished, so I used cotton crochet thread and a blanket stitch to finish the ends, listening with Pearl to CD's on her computer, and my husband [who had joined us from Eatonville] working on his poetry. It took hours to finish the blanket stitch, and I stopped and made some soup primarily for my work lunches, as well as a late dinner, in the middle of the project. To finish the tablecloth for a fancy touch I sewed decorative wooden buttons at the four corners.
It's such joy, working with my hands, and a luxury I rarely take time for. Pearl found, first my nephew Robin Elwood's My Bird CD, then a CD of my brother's music I hadn't heard before, although I had heard some of the songs, and I felt as if the band Lindsay Street and John and Sally were there with us, sharing our family time.
Pea and Potato Soup
1 cup yellow split peas
2 red potatoes
1 red garnet yam
1 carrot
1/2 onion
3/4 quart plain soy milk
1 1/2 cups frozen peas
1/2 portion Golden Curry flavoring
1 clove garlic, chopped
In pressure cooker, saute onions while you cube the vegetables. Add split peas, potatoes, carrot and yam, plus 6 cups water and curry flavoring into cooker and cook on high for ten minutes, with natural pressure release [i.e., off the burner.] When lid can be removed, stir in frozen peas and soy milk to a creamy consistency, heat and serve.
Saturday tried to make Three Sisters Fry Bread with cornmeal, beans and squash, from a VegNews article/recipe by Robin Roberston, website also globalvegankitchen.com. I believe my primary mistake was to make something fried; also I used too much water so the dough was sticky; also I probably used too high of heat. In any case I ended up with oily, hard, overcooked patties instead of something light and nutritious.
I had plenty of dough left so Sunday morning I made muffins with the rest of the dough, which were pretty dense, but edible. I brought these as well as some of my rye bread to the Waffle Devotional, and my daughter came with me. We had a wonderful Giving Thanks themed devotional, met and reconnected with some lovely people, and then went out shopping.
Our hot culture stores of choice were St. Vincent de Paul, Goodwill, and then Hancock Fabrics. We scored some great boots for my daughter and a warm cotton bedspread [for use as a blanket, as I already have a comforter] for me.
At Hancock Fabrics we replaced the sewing kit that people barred her from retrieving from her most recent living situation, and we found some great coordinating upholstery fabric for recovering my dining chairs and making a tablecloth. For the tablecloth I found a linen-type fabric with equal ~4-inch stripes of sand and sage; for the chairs, the same fabric with a sand background and 1-inch sage polka dots.
This may be the first time I actually came home from an outing and turned around and started a project then and there. For recovering the chair seats, I hadn't thought about getting or locating more upholstery tacks, so I had to recycle the tacks I could pry out of the bottom of the seats, and try to hold the fabric in place with wide tape, use minimal tacks, and then reapply the chair frames to the seats. The first one turned out somewhat sloppy, so I redid it.
For the tablecloth, the selvedges of the fabric were finished, so I used cotton crochet thread and a blanket stitch to finish the ends, listening with Pearl to CD's on her computer, and my husband [who had joined us from Eatonville] working on his poetry. It took hours to finish the blanket stitch, and I stopped and made some soup primarily for my work lunches, as well as a late dinner, in the middle of the project. To finish the tablecloth for a fancy touch I sewed decorative wooden buttons at the four corners.
It's such joy, working with my hands, and a luxury I rarely take time for. Pearl found, first my nephew Robin Elwood's My Bird CD, then a CD of my brother's music I hadn't heard before, although I had heard some of the songs, and I felt as if the band Lindsay Street and John and Sally were there with us, sharing our family time.
Pea and Potato Soup
1 cup yellow split peas
2 red potatoes
1 red garnet yam
1 carrot
1/2 onion
3/4 quart plain soy milk
1 1/2 cups frozen peas
1/2 portion Golden Curry flavoring
1 clove garlic, chopped
In pressure cooker, saute onions while you cube the vegetables. Add split peas, potatoes, carrot and yam, plus 6 cups water and curry flavoring into cooker and cook on high for ten minutes, with natural pressure release [i.e., off the burner.] When lid can be removed, stir in frozen peas and soy milk to a creamy consistency, heat and serve.
Friday, November 18, 2011
For My Brave Friend
Woke up with a couple hours sleep yet to fit in, not uncommon for me. Thinking about an upcoming devotional meeting, where the first part is devoted to God, and the second part is devoted to waffles. Fine and good, but people often make scrambled eggs and sausage, yogurt and so on. So my plan is to bring alternative comestibles to share. Still, giving in to the desire to eat those other death-dealing foods was my downfall in the past. I have to remember that just because kind souls provided them, no sausages ever actually leaped into my mouth unaided.
Although my newfound belief in and commitment to saving my eyesight, my hearing, my mind, and my organs and limbs, let alone my life, has given me a new sense of life, and a charge every time I make a choice for life and not death in my food choices, it's easy to lose focus. It's easy for my resolve to become eroded by constant exposure to animal sourced foods. I'm sure eventually it will become second nature to make these choices, as long as I never give in. But it's a white-knuckle experience.
So I was thinking about "getting through" the next few socialization opportunities and retaining this focus, and remembered the 23rd Psalm:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
My enemies being certain foods, of course, not people! And I promise not to dump oil on my head at the table. And I'm still looking for Shirley, Goodness and Mercy. Sometimes they get lost.
I also ran across this quotation from Shoghi Effendi posted on Facebook, which has to do with teaching the Baha'i Faith, not to do with changing my eating style. Nevertheless, with all due respect to the beloved Guardian, these words seemed most appropriate to my journey:
There is no time to lose. There is no room left for vacillation. Myriads hunger for the bread of life. . . . To try, to persevere, is to ensure ultimate and complete victory.
I hope to do a following post soon to outline why changing away from animal-sourced foods is so crucial to the survival of humankind and to the planet, and why it is so urgent.
Hurrah, thank you and all to my brave friend Rachel who is currently choosing life by doing a juice fast, coincidentally with my choice to turn towards a plant based eating style.
Although my newfound belief in and commitment to saving my eyesight, my hearing, my mind, and my organs and limbs, let alone my life, has given me a new sense of life, and a charge every time I make a choice for life and not death in my food choices, it's easy to lose focus. It's easy for my resolve to become eroded by constant exposure to animal sourced foods. I'm sure eventually it will become second nature to make these choices, as long as I never give in. But it's a white-knuckle experience.
So I was thinking about "getting through" the next few socialization opportunities and retaining this focus, and remembered the 23rd Psalm:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
My enemies being certain foods, of course, not people! And I promise not to dump oil on my head at the table. And I'm still looking for Shirley, Goodness and Mercy. Sometimes they get lost.
I also ran across this quotation from Shoghi Effendi posted on Facebook, which has to do with teaching the Baha'i Faith, not to do with changing my eating style. Nevertheless, with all due respect to the beloved Guardian, these words seemed most appropriate to my journey:
There is no time to lose. There is no room left for vacillation. Myriads hunger for the bread of life. . . . To try, to persevere, is to ensure ultimate and complete victory.
I hope to do a following post soon to outline why changing away from animal-sourced foods is so crucial to the survival of humankind and to the planet, and why it is so urgent.
Hurrah, thank you and all to my brave friend Rachel who is currently choosing life by doing a juice fast, coincidentally with my choice to turn towards a plant based eating style.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
In Which I Have Fun in Public
Our Director of Nursing at "Mountain View" is leaving for a post closer to her home, so several of us staff members met at Applebees for dinner to say goodbye. She has such wonderful qualities, honesty, a quirky sense of humor, rarely found in DNS's, and she'll be hard to replace. I will miss her.
When the dinner was planned, I had just committed to the plant based whole foods eating style, so I stopped by Applebees to scout out the menu then. I had steamed vegetables with a house salad, and learned Rule Number One: Always ask questions. The house salad had cheese and bacon on it, and they very kindly made me another one without. So I had found an edible entree and figured I was set for tonight. Honestly, this was the only plant-based entree in the entire menu.
So tonight when the group of us were seated, I scanned the menu through and through and didn't see this entree. Oh, dear. Fortunately I asked the waiter, and he said they still make that entree but it just isn't listed on the menu any more. Not popular enough. So all was well. Along with a salad with greens, cucumber and plum tomatoes, the steamed vegetables included cauliflower, broccoli, baby carrots, zucchini, and potatoes. Delicious and ample. So I was able to talk about my change to a whole food plant based diet with the friends at my table and impart a lot of information. For example, that casein contains an opiate-like substance, and some other foods such as chocolate that also affect our brains and keep us "hooked." [See Breaking the Food Seduction by Neal Barnard, MD.]
I'm sure followers will recall that in 2009 I also made this switch, eventually defeated by my occasional, then constant, "cheating." This time I wasn't planning on discussing this in my blog, but I'm feeling so good about it, and feeling so much better, and getting such a charge out of taking control of what I choose to eat, it's hard not to talk about it. So I am. Anyway, I invented and learned so many recipes last time that I was much better prepared to make the change this time.
We had so much fun, meeting in regular clothes instead of scrubs, away from the stress of work, talking about where we were from [Cairo, Ghana, the Philippines for my tablemates], children, marriages, school, languages, travel, cruises, childbirth, surgeries, so on and so forth. I discovered other people at work like me a lot better than I imagined. We had a blast, and decided we should go out more often.
I made rye bread today from the simplest of the recipes I found on the internet. I used a lot of cornmeal, as I had seen in some other recipes, and it turned out hard on the outside, sweet and a little dense, soft and crumbly on the inside. Maybe difficult for sandwich bread, but tasty and filling anyway.
Experimented with kale the other day, plugging it into my formula for pea soup: sauteed onions, vegetables, a star vegetable such as cabbage or beets, and dry yellow peas, plus 8 cups of water, ten minutes in pressure cooker and slow pressure release. It failed miserably. Neither the kale nor the peas cooked thoroughly, so I cooked it longer, then finally pureed the entire mess. If all else fails, puree. So it was rich and satisfying in pureed form, but I doubt I'll try again. I'll just have to learn other recipes for kale. I'm not defeated that easily. Kale is just so full of wonderful nutrients.
When the dinner was planned, I had just committed to the plant based whole foods eating style, so I stopped by Applebees to scout out the menu then. I had steamed vegetables with a house salad, and learned Rule Number One: Always ask questions. The house salad had cheese and bacon on it, and they very kindly made me another one without. So I had found an edible entree and figured I was set for tonight. Honestly, this was the only plant-based entree in the entire menu.
So tonight when the group of us were seated, I scanned the menu through and through and didn't see this entree. Oh, dear. Fortunately I asked the waiter, and he said they still make that entree but it just isn't listed on the menu any more. Not popular enough. So all was well. Along with a salad with greens, cucumber and plum tomatoes, the steamed vegetables included cauliflower, broccoli, baby carrots, zucchini, and potatoes. Delicious and ample. So I was able to talk about my change to a whole food plant based diet with the friends at my table and impart a lot of information. For example, that casein contains an opiate-like substance, and some other foods such as chocolate that also affect our brains and keep us "hooked." [See Breaking the Food Seduction by Neal Barnard, MD.]
I'm sure followers will recall that in 2009 I also made this switch, eventually defeated by my occasional, then constant, "cheating." This time I wasn't planning on discussing this in my blog, but I'm feeling so good about it, and feeling so much better, and getting such a charge out of taking control of what I choose to eat, it's hard not to talk about it. So I am. Anyway, I invented and learned so many recipes last time that I was much better prepared to make the change this time.
We had so much fun, meeting in regular clothes instead of scrubs, away from the stress of work, talking about where we were from [Cairo, Ghana, the Philippines for my tablemates], children, marriages, school, languages, travel, cruises, childbirth, surgeries, so on and so forth. I discovered other people at work like me a lot better than I imagined. We had a blast, and decided we should go out more often.
I made rye bread today from the simplest of the recipes I found on the internet. I used a lot of cornmeal, as I had seen in some other recipes, and it turned out hard on the outside, sweet and a little dense, soft and crumbly on the inside. Maybe difficult for sandwich bread, but tasty and filling anyway.
Experimented with kale the other day, plugging it into my formula for pea soup: sauteed onions, vegetables, a star vegetable such as cabbage or beets, and dry yellow peas, plus 8 cups of water, ten minutes in pressure cooker and slow pressure release. It failed miserably. Neither the kale nor the peas cooked thoroughly, so I cooked it longer, then finally pureed the entire mess. If all else fails, puree. So it was rich and satisfying in pureed form, but I doubt I'll try again. I'll just have to learn other recipes for kale. I'm not defeated that easily. Kale is just so full of wonderful nutrients.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Gratitude Day
I'm working Thanksgiving, but in any case, I wanted to say something about the meaning of food, fellowship, sharing, not sharing . . .
I mentioned in a previous blog that a couple of years ago I went to a local restaurant having a buffet for Thanksgiving which included the turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls and salad and so forth. I went by myself, went through the buffet a couple of times, and left feeling filled but unfulfilled. And I realized that the celebration of "Thanksgiving" is not eating selected traditional foods. You could eat those any time. Thanksgiving is sharing a meal or get together with friends and family in a spirit of generosity and gratitude.
As I sever myself from 90% of the foods I associate with Thanksgiving feasts, I am thinking about what makes sharing food at an event meaningful. For me, when I go to Baha'i Feasts or to potlucks or holiday dinners and so forth, to be truly honest, sharing the food [all of it, and then some] has been a very important part of the event. If I did not eat some of the foods it was usually because I was on a diet [extremely rare occasion] or trying to go vegetarian or so forth. Not to partake to me kind of means being left out.
Time to stand back, look at myself with honesty, and realize that socializing over a plate of food makes socializing more interesting and bearable. I don't have to be fully present with the other person. I talked with my therapist recently about this is probably one reason people who "drink" enjoy their beverage of choice at parties: for some people this masks social anxiety and smooths the way for them to enjoy the party. And I don't say this being judgmental. This is just being human.
Now that I have opted to act as the pickiest person on earth, someone who doesn't eat meat or fish or eggs or dairy products, I will have to focus primarily on the act of socializing with people and being fully present, rather than focusing on what there is to eat. A challenge for me. I feel as if an outer, unconscious layer of "skin" has been peeled away from my emotions. Raw, alive, and unpeeled.
Which is appropriate if my primary focus is now vegetables.
I am open to any ideas for a whole-foods, plant based menu for Thanksgiving.
I mentioned in a previous blog that a couple of years ago I went to a local restaurant having a buffet for Thanksgiving which included the turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls and salad and so forth. I went by myself, went through the buffet a couple of times, and left feeling filled but unfulfilled. And I realized that the celebration of "Thanksgiving" is not eating selected traditional foods. You could eat those any time. Thanksgiving is sharing a meal or get together with friends and family in a spirit of generosity and gratitude.
As I sever myself from 90% of the foods I associate with Thanksgiving feasts, I am thinking about what makes sharing food at an event meaningful. For me, when I go to Baha'i Feasts or to potlucks or holiday dinners and so forth, to be truly honest, sharing the food [all of it, and then some] has been a very important part of the event. If I did not eat some of the foods it was usually because I was on a diet [extremely rare occasion] or trying to go vegetarian or so forth. Not to partake to me kind of means being left out.
Time to stand back, look at myself with honesty, and realize that socializing over a plate of food makes socializing more interesting and bearable. I don't have to be fully present with the other person. I talked with my therapist recently about this is probably one reason people who "drink" enjoy their beverage of choice at parties: for some people this masks social anxiety and smooths the way for them to enjoy the party. And I don't say this being judgmental. This is just being human.
Now that I have opted to act as the pickiest person on earth, someone who doesn't eat meat or fish or eggs or dairy products, I will have to focus primarily on the act of socializing with people and being fully present, rather than focusing on what there is to eat. A challenge for me. I feel as if an outer, unconscious layer of "skin" has been peeled away from my emotions. Raw, alive, and unpeeled.
Which is appropriate if my primary focus is now vegetables.
I am open to any ideas for a whole-foods, plant based menu for Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
No Face, No Mother, No Moo.
Had a good day today and it isn't done yet. Up early for follow up visit to ophthamologist, who AGAIN put drops in my eyes to numb them and more drops to dilate them, which lasts all day. Anyway I gave him the update and he said my eyes look great. Then I decided not to drive back to Puyallup then back again to Tacoma for a later appt so I stayed in town. Whole food plant based lunch at Marlene's Deli, then a haircut, then shopping for more soup cups at Goodwill, then to Value Village [where by a miracle I found what I believe is a pizza peel thing helpful for transferring bread dough to a warmed baking stone] and my other appointment. Then home.
Walked to downtown Puyallup with my daughter and we explored the Library and several Antique shops, then home. If I live that long I wanted to make rye bread and do a hand sewing project. I'm also having a new mattress delivered tonight. Which is good because I'm about ready for sleep.
I may need to bake rye bread another day.
Every time I make a whole food plant based food choice I get an enormous charge out of it. I just never believed in myself before.
Walked to downtown Puyallup with my daughter and we explored the Library and several Antique shops, then home. If I live that long I wanted to make rye bread and do a hand sewing project. I'm also having a new mattress delivered tonight. Which is good because I'm about ready for sleep.
I may need to bake rye bread another day.
Every time I make a whole food plant based food choice I get an enormous charge out of it. I just never believed in myself before.
Friday, October 28, 2011
An Eye to the Future
Arose early [for me, now working the late shift, 6:30 is early] and picked up my daughter, who I was bringing to my appointment in Seattle as my "designated driver." She also helped with companionship and support, not to mention that it is always a treat to spend a day with her. I drove to Madison Street in Seattle, next to Swedish Hospital, to a group of Neurologists who are also qualified as Ophthamologists, to try to find out why vision in my left eye in the last few days has gone from "sort of funny" to "looking through a brownish haze or smog."
First I went upstairs to Radiology and signed in for the MRI scan of my brain. My daughter signed in as my designated driver. I have heard so many stories of people who freak out at the last minute when confronted with the MRI tube, and discovered at a young age I am somewhat claustrophobic [when we took turns being locked in the outhouse] that I decided to accept a mild sedative. They won't give that without the patient bringing a driver.
It turned out that I probably wouldn't have needed the Xanax but I didn't mind having it. [The moderate dose I took turned out to be sort of a blessing on the drive home, which was a little harrowing with the rain and heavy traffic.] Anyway, I sort of enjoyed the MRI. The only disconcerting parts were the loud sounds made by the imaging process, and the inability to move.
Downstairs we shared a snack, as breakfast was at 9 AM and the MRI was finished at 1 PM. The neurologist put in yet another set of eye drops, tested my eye pressure and the field of vision in both eyes, and did a color test. He suggested getting an MRI and I explained that I had just had one, so he found it on his computer and took a look.
The upshot was that he believes I have optic neuritis. If I was a little younger, it would be suggestive of MS, but I'm a little past the usual age range for developing MS. Possible causes include diabetes, which causes poor blood flow to the optic nerve, causing it to swell, or it sometimes can be triggered by a vaccination. I have diabetes, and also had a flu vaccination at work about 2 weeks ago.
The good news was that this condition usually resolves in 6 to 8 weeks, according to my neurologist [imagine, having my own neurologist, kind of like having a pet] without any treatment. Alternatively, if I wasn't willing to put up with the symptoms or they became worse, he could administer a steroid. I'm not crazy about steroids because of the awful side effects. So I should recover more normal vision in a few weeks.
Hurrah!
We ate a decent lunch at a nearby cafe, parking cost me $12, even though parking for patients was not supposed to exceed $8 [neither office validates parking], and it took 3 hours to drive home in bumper-to-bumper traffic in the rain.
At home I made a fantastic soup with dahl [red lentils], cauliflower, garlic, soy milk and spinach.
First I went upstairs to Radiology and signed in for the MRI scan of my brain. My daughter signed in as my designated driver. I have heard so many stories of people who freak out at the last minute when confronted with the MRI tube, and discovered at a young age I am somewhat claustrophobic [when we took turns being locked in the outhouse] that I decided to accept a mild sedative. They won't give that without the patient bringing a driver.
It turned out that I probably wouldn't have needed the Xanax but I didn't mind having it. [The moderate dose I took turned out to be sort of a blessing on the drive home, which was a little harrowing with the rain and heavy traffic.] Anyway, I sort of enjoyed the MRI. The only disconcerting parts were the loud sounds made by the imaging process, and the inability to move.
Downstairs we shared a snack, as breakfast was at 9 AM and the MRI was finished at 1 PM. The neurologist put in yet another set of eye drops, tested my eye pressure and the field of vision in both eyes, and did a color test. He suggested getting an MRI and I explained that I had just had one, so he found it on his computer and took a look.
The upshot was that he believes I have optic neuritis. If I was a little younger, it would be suggestive of MS, but I'm a little past the usual age range for developing MS. Possible causes include diabetes, which causes poor blood flow to the optic nerve, causing it to swell, or it sometimes can be triggered by a vaccination. I have diabetes, and also had a flu vaccination at work about 2 weeks ago.
The good news was that this condition usually resolves in 6 to 8 weeks, according to my neurologist [imagine, having my own neurologist, kind of like having a pet] without any treatment. Alternatively, if I wasn't willing to put up with the symptoms or they became worse, he could administer a steroid. I'm not crazy about steroids because of the awful side effects. So I should recover more normal vision in a few weeks.
Hurrah!
We ate a decent lunch at a nearby cafe, parking cost me $12, even though parking for patients was not supposed to exceed $8 [neither office validates parking], and it took 3 hours to drive home in bumper-to-bumper traffic in the rain.
At home I made a fantastic soup with dahl [red lentils], cauliflower, garlic, soy milk and spinach.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Planet Eyeball
I received a referral from my optometrist to an outfit that treats macular and retina problems, on Alder off of Center Street. I had an earlier appointment in the North end of Tacoma to which I arrived with a flat tire, and learned to put air in the tire from a paid air compressor at a gas station [Adventure # 1] which I did prior to the appointment.
After my initial appointment, there was still air in the tire, but I needed to know what had gone wrong with it and get a repair, so I went to Les Schwab. [Adventure # 2.] No, the tire cannot be repaired, because it was driven on while flat. Why can't I just go bring a tire from home and have that put on? [I had kept my tires after having these put on last year, as they were nearly new.] Because once they removed the tire, they won't replace it. But I hate to pay for a whole new tire. Guess what? The original tire was under warranty. Yay!! They put on my full-size spare and promise to phone when my new tire has arrived to the shop.
Off I go to the Macular Retina place, [Adventure # 3] which wasn't that easy to find, but I found it. There are photos of planets everywhere. Orange planets with interesting features and canals on them. Anyway, I am admitted and have three sets of eye drops put in; one to numb my eyes, then two to fix open my pupils. I had the latter done at the optometrist and have grown to hate the effects. It takes hours to wear off, and I am stuck driving around with these cheesy dark lenses and all the lights are fractured and look like stars. This on top of the blurry vision in my left eye, which I am attempting to assess and resolve.
I describe as clearly as possible the changes in my vision in the left eye over the last week or so. The doctor seems mystified and is beginning to talk as though this may just be in my head. I am not encouraged.
The doctor also checked my blood pressure, inflating the cuff a total of four times to double-check my high blood pressure, and [oh, Sweet Jesus, as my arm is about to explode] instructing me to see my PCP and treat the hypertension, i.e. go back on medication. So I agreed, being under pressure.
Anyway, they looked at my eyes in various ways, don't see much. Then they decide to photograph my retinas with dye, to check the perfusion to my eyes. The MD injects a yellow dye into the vein in my hand, while the very pleasant practitioner takes photographs of both eyes as the dye takes effect. It was fun and fascinating. Kind of the high point of this adventure.
Now we return to the original exam room, and the doctor performs a very high-tech test: he holds up a red folder [my chart] and asks what color it is with my right eye [red] and what color it is with my left eye [dark red.]
The upshot of this was that he referred me to a Neuro-Ophthamologist office in Seattle off of Madison Avenue, because, as I have been wondering, he was thinking this may be a neurological problem. And these are the very people to see for that.
When I connect with the Neuro-Ophthamologists it turns out I obtain an appointment for tomorrow, [Adventure # 4] and I get to have a brain MRI prior to this. Oh, my. Yes, I am somewhat claustrophobic. So after I stop by Les Schwab and have my new free tire put on the car, I drop in on my daughter and ask her to be my designated driver. This way I am free to receive medication if needed to make the MRI bearable--otherwise it's not allowed. But I have every intention of driving the car back myself. By the time I spend hours in the other office, whatever I take, if anything, will have worn off. But it will be great to have my daughter with me for all this, anyway.
When I was still in the car at the Macular place after winding up my phone call to Seattle, the MD tapped on the window. He was off to surgery, and mentioned he had been thinking he might have to do surgery on me today if my retina was torn, but it wasn't necessary.
And I still have to report to Jury Duty on the 31st, phoning in the evening before to see if my group needs to come in . . .
After my initial appointment, there was still air in the tire, but I needed to know what had gone wrong with it and get a repair, so I went to Les Schwab. [Adventure # 2.] No, the tire cannot be repaired, because it was driven on while flat. Why can't I just go bring a tire from home and have that put on? [I had kept my tires after having these put on last year, as they were nearly new.] Because once they removed the tire, they won't replace it. But I hate to pay for a whole new tire. Guess what? The original tire was under warranty. Yay!! They put on my full-size spare and promise to phone when my new tire has arrived to the shop.
Off I go to the Macular Retina place, [Adventure # 3] which wasn't that easy to find, but I found it. There are photos of planets everywhere. Orange planets with interesting features and canals on them. Anyway, I am admitted and have three sets of eye drops put in; one to numb my eyes, then two to fix open my pupils. I had the latter done at the optometrist and have grown to hate the effects. It takes hours to wear off, and I am stuck driving around with these cheesy dark lenses and all the lights are fractured and look like stars. This on top of the blurry vision in my left eye, which I am attempting to assess and resolve.
I describe as clearly as possible the changes in my vision in the left eye over the last week or so. The doctor seems mystified and is beginning to talk as though this may just be in my head. I am not encouraged.
The doctor also checked my blood pressure, inflating the cuff a total of four times to double-check my high blood pressure, and [oh, Sweet Jesus, as my arm is about to explode] instructing me to see my PCP and treat the hypertension, i.e. go back on medication. So I agreed, being under pressure.
Anyway, they looked at my eyes in various ways, don't see much. Then they decide to photograph my retinas with dye, to check the perfusion to my eyes. The MD injects a yellow dye into the vein in my hand, while the very pleasant practitioner takes photographs of both eyes as the dye takes effect. It was fun and fascinating. Kind of the high point of this adventure.
Now we return to the original exam room, and the doctor performs a very high-tech test: he holds up a red folder [my chart] and asks what color it is with my right eye [red] and what color it is with my left eye [dark red.]
The upshot of this was that he referred me to a Neuro-Ophthamologist office in Seattle off of Madison Avenue, because, as I have been wondering, he was thinking this may be a neurological problem. And these are the very people to see for that.
When I connect with the Neuro-Ophthamologists it turns out I obtain an appointment for tomorrow, [Adventure # 4] and I get to have a brain MRI prior to this. Oh, my. Yes, I am somewhat claustrophobic. So after I stop by Les Schwab and have my new free tire put on the car, I drop in on my daughter and ask her to be my designated driver. This way I am free to receive medication if needed to make the MRI bearable--otherwise it's not allowed. But I have every intention of driving the car back myself. By the time I spend hours in the other office, whatever I take, if anything, will have worn off. But it will be great to have my daughter with me for all this, anyway.
When I was still in the car at the Macular place after winding up my phone call to Seattle, the MD tapped on the window. He was off to surgery, and mentioned he had been thinking he might have to do surgery on me today if my retina was torn, but it wasn't necessary.
And I still have to report to Jury Duty on the 31st, phoning in the evening before to see if my group needs to come in . . .
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Health Issues
I'm up early. Wrenching myself out of sleep early, I feel like a beet pulled up out of the ground. I made an appointment with the last optometrist I saw, for first thing this morning. They wanted to see me yesterday, but I have to work. The vision has become blurry in my left eye. There is no outward, visible change in my eye; it's either internal to the mechanics of the eye, or neurological. Guess I'll find out.
I'm getting more serious lately about turning away from animal-based foods; reading Dr. Neal Barnard's Breaking the Food Seduction, Geneen Roth's Women, Food and God, and realizing ways this might be possible. The "muscle" it takes to turn away from spontaneously provided foods [from other people, e.g. at work] is not really there, but I'm not pursuing my cravings so much. Also, the more I eat plant-based foods, the better I feel, so that helps.
I have this great idea for forming a group or club based on exploring alternatives for healthy nutrition: meeting, cooking and eating plant-based foods, watching movies, reading books, and discussing them. Stay tuned.
I'm getting more serious lately about turning away from animal-based foods; reading Dr. Neal Barnard's Breaking the Food Seduction, Geneen Roth's Women, Food and God, and realizing ways this might be possible. The "muscle" it takes to turn away from spontaneously provided foods [from other people, e.g. at work] is not really there, but I'm not pursuing my cravings so much. Also, the more I eat plant-based foods, the better I feel, so that helps.
I have this great idea for forming a group or club based on exploring alternatives for healthy nutrition: meeting, cooking and eating plant-based foods, watching movies, reading books, and discussing them. Stay tuned.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Baha'i Institute for Higher Education
Last weekend of the Intensive Program of Growth here in W. Washington/Cluster 19. Tired. Met for prayers in the AM at Lisa's with George, Lisa, Joe, then Gwen and so on so forth. Sorry, So On So Forth, didn't learn your names.
Said some prayers, G. went to be with the Tacoma Tigers football "little league", Gwen and Joe and So Forth were doing a Book One, so I slid on out, came home to get ready to bring healthy snacks to a Fireside at Dawn's with a young lady who is a graduate of the Baha'i Institute of Higher Education. This is a grassroots organization of Baha'is making sure a college degree is available to people in Iran where the Baha'is are excluded from the official universities. My understanding is that Shiva is the first such graduate to be accepted at an American university, PLU. What an honor it is to have her here.
Said some prayers, G. went to be with the Tacoma Tigers football "little league", Gwen and Joe and So Forth were doing a Book One, so I slid on out, came home to get ready to bring healthy snacks to a Fireside at Dawn's with a young lady who is a graduate of the Baha'i Institute of Higher Education. This is a grassroots organization of Baha'is making sure a college degree is available to people in Iran where the Baha'is are excluded from the official universities. My understanding is that Shiva is the first such graduate to be accepted at an American university, PLU. What an honor it is to have her here.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Black Bean Soup with Squash
For lunch with the Intensive Program of Growth today I made Black Bean Soup with Squash. I wanted to serve something hearty, hot and delicious, as well as having many valuable nutrients and virtually no not-so-valuable nutrients. People seemed to enjoy this.
Black Bean Soup with Squash
2 cups dried black beans, rinsed, soaked overnight, and rinsed again
1/2 cup red lentils
1 onion
2 delicata squashes, seeded and diced
1 red garnet yam, diced
2 fat organic carrots
1 package of spinach
a few leaves of fresh basil and cilantro
Seasonings to taste: sea salt, smoke flavoring, ground rosemary, cumin, coriander, dill, basil, oregano; 2 cloves garlic, sliced.
Would have been good if I had it on hand: frozen corn, and fresh turmeric root, grated.
Dice onion and place in pressure cooker with a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil to carmelize while you prepare other ingredients. Dice everything, put it all into the cooker, add beans and red lentils and seasonings, cover with water, put on lid, and cook on high for 10 minutes, allow natural pressure release. Stir in spinach and more fresh cilantro and basil. Serve. Now that you've enjoyed this, it's a Whole Foods Plant Based Diet selection. AKA vegan.
We had this with crusty french bread, sliced sharp white cheddar, and macaroni salad, small mandarin oranges, chips, tea or 100% grape juice. You could also try toasted rye bread with this. [For vegan meal, omit the macaroni salad and cheddar, and make the bread whole grain.]
Black Bean Soup with Squash
2 cups dried black beans, rinsed, soaked overnight, and rinsed again
1/2 cup red lentils
1 onion
2 delicata squashes, seeded and diced
1 red garnet yam, diced
2 fat organic carrots
1 package of spinach
a few leaves of fresh basil and cilantro
Seasonings to taste: sea salt, smoke flavoring, ground rosemary, cumin, coriander, dill, basil, oregano; 2 cloves garlic, sliced.
Would have been good if I had it on hand: frozen corn, and fresh turmeric root, grated.
Dice onion and place in pressure cooker with a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil to carmelize while you prepare other ingredients. Dice everything, put it all into the cooker, add beans and red lentils and seasonings, cover with water, put on lid, and cook on high for 10 minutes, allow natural pressure release. Stir in spinach and more fresh cilantro and basil. Serve. Now that you've enjoyed this, it's a Whole Foods Plant Based Diet selection. AKA vegan.
We had this with crusty french bread, sliced sharp white cheddar, and macaroni salad, small mandarin oranges, chips, tea or 100% grape juice. You could also try toasted rye bread with this. [For vegan meal, omit the macaroni salad and cheddar, and make the bread whole grain.]
Open Thou the Door
I memorized a prayer over night:
O Lord,
Open Thou the door, provide the means, prepare the way, make safe the path, that we may be guided to those souls whose hearts are prepared for Thy Cause, and that they may be guided to us. Verily, Thou art the Merciful, the Most Bountiful, the All-Powerful.
~'Abdu'l-Baha
Friday at work was challenging, with someone who needed IV fluids, so an IV start, and IM and oral antibiotics, which took an extra hour and a half. It's a good thing I have a simple medication pass, so I could hurry up to finish in my last 45 minutes. So when I came home I was revved up. Then I was anticipating people coming to my house Saturday and Sunday for a Baha'i Intensive Program of Growth, so I was revved up about that, and went to sleep about 2:30 AM and woke 7:30 AM. Did the final dusting and sweeping, set out dishes for lunch, etc, and instructed myself not to take it too hard if no one showed up.
My goal is to find receptive souls in Puyallup, beginning with the neighborhoods near me, and expand the number of people participating in devotional meetings, study circles, children's classes and youth groups; it is hoped that they will become attracted to the Baha'i teachings, investigate, and eventually expand the number of Baha'is in Puyallup. Building more spiritual communities is our focus.
So the schedule was to pray and spend time consulting in the morning, in preparation for direct teaching work after lunch. I had Marian, George, Chris, Rick, William, and Joe in the morning, and Dawn came in the afternoon. We prayed, talked about our goals, sang and consulted, then ate potato soup with green peas, yellow split peas and tomatoes, and had sandwiches and so forth. Most went to the Salishan neighborhood for teaching. Dawn, Marian and I went teaching in the Stillwater Apartments which I pass on the way to work.
A lot of people at work live near by, but I'm not sure exactly where. I'm extremely shy about sharing the aspect of my life closest to my heart--my faith--at work. So I was very concerned about meeting people I knew, as I crossed the fence between my work persona and my Baha'i character. Sure enough, many of the people we met were connected with "Mountain View." So I was exposed as a Baha'i several times. I'm waiting for doom to fall.
In the evening I washed clothes, cleaned up and went out to Feast in Tacoma, shopped on the way home, soaked black beans, memorized a prayer, and listened to Beethoven's Appassionata before bed. Woke at 8:30 this morning, went, Omigosh, and made a Black Bean and Squash soup. Today George, Dawn, and Joe came over, and Marian promised to pray. Nearly comatose with exhaustion by this time, I went back to the Stillwater apartments again after lunch with George and Dawn.*
I phoned Marian later to ask what time she was saying her prayers for us, because lightning struck twice. We visited a couple and spoke with the husband who goes to the Sikh temple in Renton. He was very friendly, and I would have liked to talk with him for a long time, but he wasn't interested in any devotional meetings, children's classes or youth groups, or study circles. What enticing smells of curry emanated from their home, even though we had just eaten.
Upstairs we met a young woman with two children interested in devotional meetings at her house, with a possibility she may become interested in children's classes. And across the way, still floating on air, we met a young woman with children who had just escaped from a domestic violence situation, who is interested in an introductory conversation about the Faith, and may come to the Women's Empowerment Devotional on Friday.
We called it good and went out for coffee.
*There is a story about 'Abdu'l-Baha who returned to the place he was staying during his visit to America, very exhausted. He went upstairs to His room and emerged a few minutes later completely reenergized by prayer. I do feel better after the teaching event.
O Lord,
Open Thou the door, provide the means, prepare the way, make safe the path, that we may be guided to those souls whose hearts are prepared for Thy Cause, and that they may be guided to us. Verily, Thou art the Merciful, the Most Bountiful, the All-Powerful.
~'Abdu'l-Baha
Friday at work was challenging, with someone who needed IV fluids, so an IV start, and IM and oral antibiotics, which took an extra hour and a half. It's a good thing I have a simple medication pass, so I could hurry up to finish in my last 45 minutes. So when I came home I was revved up. Then I was anticipating people coming to my house Saturday and Sunday for a Baha'i Intensive Program of Growth, so I was revved up about that, and went to sleep about 2:30 AM and woke 7:30 AM. Did the final dusting and sweeping, set out dishes for lunch, etc, and instructed myself not to take it too hard if no one showed up.
My goal is to find receptive souls in Puyallup, beginning with the neighborhoods near me, and expand the number of people participating in devotional meetings, study circles, children's classes and youth groups; it is hoped that they will become attracted to the Baha'i teachings, investigate, and eventually expand the number of Baha'is in Puyallup. Building more spiritual communities is our focus.
So the schedule was to pray and spend time consulting in the morning, in preparation for direct teaching work after lunch. I had Marian, George, Chris, Rick, William, and Joe in the morning, and Dawn came in the afternoon. We prayed, talked about our goals, sang and consulted, then ate potato soup with green peas, yellow split peas and tomatoes, and had sandwiches and so forth. Most went to the Salishan neighborhood for teaching. Dawn, Marian and I went teaching in the Stillwater Apartments which I pass on the way to work.
A lot of people at work live near by, but I'm not sure exactly where. I'm extremely shy about sharing the aspect of my life closest to my heart--my faith--at work. So I was very concerned about meeting people I knew, as I crossed the fence between my work persona and my Baha'i character. Sure enough, many of the people we met were connected with "Mountain View." So I was exposed as a Baha'i several times. I'm waiting for doom to fall.
In the evening I washed clothes, cleaned up and went out to Feast in Tacoma, shopped on the way home, soaked black beans, memorized a prayer, and listened to Beethoven's Appassionata before bed. Woke at 8:30 this morning, went, Omigosh, and made a Black Bean and Squash soup. Today George, Dawn, and Joe came over, and Marian promised to pray. Nearly comatose with exhaustion by this time, I went back to the Stillwater apartments again after lunch with George and Dawn.*
I phoned Marian later to ask what time she was saying her prayers for us, because lightning struck twice. We visited a couple and spoke with the husband who goes to the Sikh temple in Renton. He was very friendly, and I would have liked to talk with him for a long time, but he wasn't interested in any devotional meetings, children's classes or youth groups, or study circles. What enticing smells of curry emanated from their home, even though we had just eaten.
Upstairs we met a young woman with two children interested in devotional meetings at her house, with a possibility she may become interested in children's classes. And across the way, still floating on air, we met a young woman with children who had just escaped from a domestic violence situation, who is interested in an introductory conversation about the Faith, and may come to the Women's Empowerment Devotional on Friday.
We called it good and went out for coffee.
*There is a story about 'Abdu'l-Baha who returned to the place he was staying during his visit to America, very exhausted. He went upstairs to His room and emerged a few minutes later completely reenergized by prayer. I do feel better after the teaching event.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Mentally Alert Salad
That would be something else, a mentally alert salad. Make you think twice before sticking a fork into your greens. Funny it doesn't work that way with a hamburger . . . except for some folks who are more mentally alert to their food origins than the rest of us.
For the last, I'd say, two months, since watching Forks Over Knives, I've been following my cravings, mainly [for those with a morbid interest in those things] fried fish. I discovered Halibut is flavorful; generic fish is not. I can now safely predict that the more deeply I am moved by the arguments for a whole food plant based diet, the more I envy those whose lives have been transformed by adhering to its strict limits, the more severe my food cravings for other types of food become and the more abrupt their onset. It is completely predictable. I was just beginning to settle down after F. O. K. when I watched 40 minutes of Dr. Neal Barnard describing which substances in dairy products tend to keep one eating them . . .
The also predictable result of relentlessly pursuing these cravings, instead of occasional aberrations from a moderately healthy diet, has been a lack of mental acuity. Some foods make me dopey. Just not as alert. Slow and lazy brain cells. I start worrying about early onset Alzheimers.
Amazingly I started to realize, after this latest binge, that I was craving fruits and vegetables and whole grains and even legumes. So I made this salad, ate it with a beautiful red, ripe pear [don't ask me about the variety--I'm not that alert] and a slice of whole wheat toast. A wonderful meal and a rousing experience. I could feel my mind and body transforming with just one lunch.
Mentally Alert Salad
1/4 of a cabbage, thinly sliced and chopped [optionally you could grate it. That would be great.]
1/2 onion, diced
2 fat organic carrots, grated
one can pickled beets, sliced [the beets, not the can]
one can of beans [in this case, red beans]
Salad dressing*
That's it. Simple and delicious. I don't even know why I'm charging for this recipe. Oh, yeah, I'm not.
Walking to work there was definitely more of a spring in my step and a smile on my face.
* I have this idea for a salad dressing based on pickled beets, but I haven't worked it out yet.
For the last, I'd say, two months, since watching Forks Over Knives, I've been following my cravings, mainly [for those with a morbid interest in those things] fried fish. I discovered Halibut is flavorful; generic fish is not. I can now safely predict that the more deeply I am moved by the arguments for a whole food plant based diet, the more I envy those whose lives have been transformed by adhering to its strict limits, the more severe my food cravings for other types of food become and the more abrupt their onset. It is completely predictable. I was just beginning to settle down after F. O. K. when I watched 40 minutes of Dr. Neal Barnard describing which substances in dairy products tend to keep one eating them . . .
The also predictable result of relentlessly pursuing these cravings, instead of occasional aberrations from a moderately healthy diet, has been a lack of mental acuity. Some foods make me dopey. Just not as alert. Slow and lazy brain cells. I start worrying about early onset Alzheimers.
Amazingly I started to realize, after this latest binge, that I was craving fruits and vegetables and whole grains and even legumes. So I made this salad, ate it with a beautiful red, ripe pear [don't ask me about the variety--I'm not that alert] and a slice of whole wheat toast. A wonderful meal and a rousing experience. I could feel my mind and body transforming with just one lunch.
Mentally Alert Salad
1/4 of a cabbage, thinly sliced and chopped [optionally you could grate it. That would be great.]
1/2 onion, diced
2 fat organic carrots, grated
one can pickled beets, sliced [the beets, not the can]
one can of beans [in this case, red beans]
Salad dressing*
That's it. Simple and delicious. I don't even know why I'm charging for this recipe. Oh, yeah, I'm not.
Walking to work there was definitely more of a spring in my step and a smile on my face.
* I have this idea for a salad dressing based on pickled beets, but I haven't worked it out yet.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Projects
Walked to the Puyallup Fair Friday morning, stood in line for awhile to get in on the free admission, admired the quilts. While I was there, I saw an elderly man leaning against a chair, thought he might lose his balance & said something.
"That's my wife's quilt up there," he said. I said, that's very nice; he said, "she died three years ago. I wanted to see what happened with the quilt. Every night I talk to her, tell her how my day went." I got teary-eyed. Said, maybe you can wrap up in the quilt.
Stood in line for a burger at a place that wasn't quite organized yet, taking far more orders than they could cook up. A lot of us were in line for a long time, then a counter opened up and someone who hadn't even been in line came up. Lady behind me complained, he rounded on her, she tried to apologize but he wouldn't listen. Then when he got his burger before her, more drama. From when I got in line to when I received my sandwich: 50 minutes.
Went to the rodeo for $5, have never gone before. I think they had a rodeo in Albion when I was very small, if that counts. It was a blast. I'd like to go again.
Bought a silk comforter [silk fibers on the inside, not the outside], decided it would be better to be a little mean to silkworms than kill ducks: besides, feathers have a tendency to work out of a feather bed and poke you. So I left the fair resolved to sew a cover for the comforter.
Fortunately I have a pair of Egyptian cotton king-size sheets I bought several months ago at a thrift shop, and decided to use those for the duvet. Decided to doll it up a little bit from plain white by appliqueing butterflies cut from colorful scraps, but I was dreading the applique process, wrestling around an entire king sized sheet on the machine, until I figured out I needed to cut squares/rectangles from the sheet, sew on the appliques, then reassemble.
In twenty four hours I have the applique work done. Except for the fact that, without details, the outlines of butterflies resemble hats. So now I'm adding detailing, and that's as far as I got today. Back to work tomorrow.
"That's my wife's quilt up there," he said. I said, that's very nice; he said, "she died three years ago. I wanted to see what happened with the quilt. Every night I talk to her, tell her how my day went." I got teary-eyed. Said, maybe you can wrap up in the quilt.
Stood in line for a burger at a place that wasn't quite organized yet, taking far more orders than they could cook up. A lot of us were in line for a long time, then a counter opened up and someone who hadn't even been in line came up. Lady behind me complained, he rounded on her, she tried to apologize but he wouldn't listen. Then when he got his burger before her, more drama. From when I got in line to when I received my sandwich: 50 minutes.
Went to the rodeo for $5, have never gone before. I think they had a rodeo in Albion when I was very small, if that counts. It was a blast. I'd like to go again.
Bought a silk comforter [silk fibers on the inside, not the outside], decided it would be better to be a little mean to silkworms than kill ducks: besides, feathers have a tendency to work out of a feather bed and poke you. So I left the fair resolved to sew a cover for the comforter.
Fortunately I have a pair of Egyptian cotton king-size sheets I bought several months ago at a thrift shop, and decided to use those for the duvet. Decided to doll it up a little bit from plain white by appliqueing butterflies cut from colorful scraps, but I was dreading the applique process, wrestling around an entire king sized sheet on the machine, until I figured out I needed to cut squares/rectangles from the sheet, sew on the appliques, then reassemble.
In twenty four hours I have the applique work done. Except for the fact that, without details, the outlines of butterflies resemble hats. So now I'm adding detailing, and that's as far as I got today. Back to work tomorrow.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Fire and Snow
So I visited Baha'i Views and took a virtual canoe trip through the Willapa Watershed, and my first impression was that most of these photos with beautiful scenery and wildlife would make wonderful inspirations for landscape quilts. My first feeling was intense envy of the time and energy and experience of folks ready to step out and paddle out into the wild in their spare time. I get this with my sister's weekend bicycle rides, also. But the envy is really just the result of my longing for nature, which is awakened by seeing and reading about these journeys. That's the fire.
The "snow", the relief, is the tremendous bounty of seeing the photographs, reading about these experiences. If I can't be there, at least I can see the pictures. Bittersweet.
These are the angels of fire and of snow.
~Baha'u'llah [approximate quotation from memory]
The "snow", the relief, is the tremendous bounty of seeing the photographs, reading about these experiences. If I can't be there, at least I can see the pictures. Bittersweet.
These are the angels of fire and of snow.
~Baha'u'llah [approximate quotation from memory]
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Buttercup Versus Rose
As a child one special experience with my mother was roaming the hills in the spring to pick buttercups, so I always saw them as a rare and lovely wildflower. A few years ago I decided to plant buttercups in my flower bed, only to discover a few months later what a persistent and pernicious pest it can be, sending out runners all over the yard. I don't know if I ever got rid of them. What I thought was simple and innocent turned out to be truly obnoxious.
Little sweet tidbits of gossip can be like a buttercup, rare and enticing when you pick them, but difficult to extricate from the fabric of communal life.
In the garden of thine heart, plant naught but the rose of love.
~ Baha'u'llah
Little sweet tidbits of gossip can be like a buttercup, rare and enticing when you pick them, but difficult to extricate from the fabric of communal life.
In the garden of thine heart, plant naught but the rose of love.
~ Baha'u'llah
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Time to Retire
People with dementia often go back in time and get "stuck" there, due to the deterioration of the temporal lobe. We have someone at "Mountain View" who apparently spent a good deal of his life running a boiler room. He often reports a crisis going on at the plant, and his frustration of needing to get there to put things in order. Sometimes he'll say, "a man got hurt today."
The other evening he was trying to leave the facility by every exit. "They won't let me leave so I can go take care of the plant," he said. "It makes me so mad, I just feel like quitting!" "You know, Stew," I said, "maybe it's time to retire."
The other evening he was trying to leave the facility by every exit. "They won't let me leave so I can go take care of the plant," he said. "It makes me so mad, I just feel like quitting!" "You know, Stew," I said, "maybe it's time to retire."
Friday, July 29, 2011
Donkey Burgers
I recently recognized that there is a very good chance I have Asperger's Syndrome, on the spectrum of Autistic disorders but less challenged. A good option, if you are going to be on the spectrum, for intelligent people. Which I guess I give a good imitation of intelligence. I used to go to student Counselors at PLU and they were all named Molly, and they all eventually put on a puzzled expression about why my life wasn't working and said, "Well, you're obviously bright . ." If I was dumb, my life might make more sense.
Facets of my mental operations that indicate a different wiring: social disconnect, literal thinking, vulnerability to bullying without knowing why [I thought it was red hair], ability to imitate accents [also animals, if that counts as an accent], inability to mathematically prove my mathematical solutions [it's just obvious], earning me a D+ in Plane and Solid Geometry; definitely non-kinisthetic, a little clumsy, always getting confused and tangled up in conversations [leading to endless miscommunications and misunderstandings], interrupting and blurting out my ideas the second they hit, job bouncing, gullibility, inability to think or move quickly [a real liability in entry-level work], slow-to-never learning to ride a bicycle, very slow to learn to swim, very slow learning to drive, extreme honesty, irritable and sensitive, sensitive to light and noise, early awakening.
Following a group conversation is one of my challenges, especially in a large family. For me, joining a group conversation is like jumping into the middle of a Virginia Reel dance without a partner and wondering why things did not work out so well.
It's not so easy to receive the piece of paper that says Official Diagnosis. I've been aping neurotypical behavior for fifty years.
Anyhow, I was elated to figure this out. It illuminates my life. I'm no longer stuck wondering what's going on. I can go, well, no wonder, and get on with it.
For more information, there's a wonderful book called, Asperger's From the Inside Out by Michael John Carley. Or the internet.
Epilogue: I had this incredible epiphany the other day when I was invited to join in a group of Baha'is visiting people in a neighborhood to build spiritual communities. Although everyone has apprehension meeting new people and starting conversations with them, I was always terrified beyond all reason. So I avoided it. After I realized I have AS, I realized this was why I had avoided teaching [not preaching] the Baha'i Faith. I had this mythical conversation in my head, thinking about the people who really suffer for their faith. "I don't need to go to prison or be tortured or executed for my faith. I'm just not wired that way . . . so, since I'm not wired that way, I don't actually need to teach . . ." I burst out laughing at the absurdity.
Facets of my mental operations that indicate a different wiring: social disconnect, literal thinking, vulnerability to bullying without knowing why [I thought it was red hair], ability to imitate accents [also animals, if that counts as an accent], inability to mathematically prove my mathematical solutions [it's just obvious], earning me a D+ in Plane and Solid Geometry; definitely non-kinisthetic, a little clumsy, always getting confused and tangled up in conversations [leading to endless miscommunications and misunderstandings], interrupting and blurting out my ideas the second they hit, job bouncing, gullibility, inability to think or move quickly [a real liability in entry-level work], slow-to-never learning to ride a bicycle, very slow to learn to swim, very slow learning to drive, extreme honesty, irritable and sensitive, sensitive to light and noise, early awakening.
Following a group conversation is one of my challenges, especially in a large family. For me, joining a group conversation is like jumping into the middle of a Virginia Reel dance without a partner and wondering why things did not work out so well.
It's not so easy to receive the piece of paper that says Official Diagnosis. I've been aping neurotypical behavior for fifty years.
Anyhow, I was elated to figure this out. It illuminates my life. I'm no longer stuck wondering what's going on. I can go, well, no wonder, and get on with it.
For more information, there's a wonderful book called, Asperger's From the Inside Out by Michael John Carley. Or the internet.
Epilogue: I had this incredible epiphany the other day when I was invited to join in a group of Baha'is visiting people in a neighborhood to build spiritual communities. Although everyone has apprehension meeting new people and starting conversations with them, I was always terrified beyond all reason. So I avoided it. After I realized I have AS, I realized this was why I had avoided teaching [not preaching] the Baha'i Faith. I had this mythical conversation in my head, thinking about the people who really suffer for their faith. "I don't need to go to prison or be tortured or executed for my faith. I'm just not wired that way . . . so, since I'm not wired that way, I don't actually need to teach . . ." I burst out laughing at the absurdity.
Resourceful Girl Changes Light Bulb
Where have I been? I've been busy, that's what. Now that I'm down to one reader . . .
A day off that I wasn't sure would be a day off because I promised that if one of the other nurses got called to jury duty I would come in. I decided that it was only fair, since so far I have called in sick, asked for funeral leave, requested Holy Days off, asked for time off for my nephew's wedding, and asked for an extra day off so I can "do" Ethnic Fest an extra day. Only fair. It took all morning to find out if I was needed or not, so anyway I finally decided I was off the hook, ate my grape nuts with applesauce and soy milk, and I need to buy more grape nuts by the way, and I decided to do a load of laundry, and just when I flipped on the light switch for the little foyer where the laundry sits behind louvered doors [always wanted to use the word louvered], the light bulb blew.
No problem. Right on the shelf over the dryer is a box of CFU's. And I'm looking at the shallow light fixture and thinking that there's no way a CFU is going to fit in there, imagining that the light bulb is in there vertically. So if I need to, I will just leave the fixture off. CFU's all the way.
So I get out my very short stool which I use as seating at my very small and short dining table which is really nothing of the sort, more of a sort of small coffee table, but if I used a regular non-dwarf dining table it would take up my entire very small dining room and all I would do is cover it in papers as my ancestors did before me. So I use a very small table. So I get out this little stool and it's just tall enough for me to reach the light fixture, and now my problems begin.
I start loosening up the screws at the side that hold in the glass fixture, I've done this a thousand times, no problem. One little screw, two little screws, darn. The third screw is stuck. Okay, I need more traction. Don't have a piece of leather, which would be ideal. A piece of that rubbery stuff with holes in it meant for opening jar lids. Doesn't work. Now what? At this point I actually consider calling the landlord. To change a light bulb? No way. I realize this screw, although everyone knows they can be turned with fingers, actually is a screw and has a screw slot in the end.
I probably have fifty screw drivers. Somewhere else. I don't know where they are. No junk drawer here. Go upstairs. Find a drawer that has unsorted junk from one of the junk drawers in the old house [which is probably unsorted from the junk drawers in the house before that.] Oh, good, a short screwdriver just the right length . . . and it's a Philips head. Okay, here's a little metal jackknife. It opens. Knife blade. No good. Try other side. No soap. Won't open. May never know if it's a screw driver blade.
Knife blade won't close. I try a multitude of methods, which if they work, position my fingers in front of the blade so I will be maimed if the blade closes. Doesn't work. Probably for the best. Again I consider calling the landlord. Since I haven't rented an apartment alone since my college dorm room, I'm not sure of the protocol. Surely some of his tenants are so feeble they can't change a light bulb?
Here's a cardboard nail file. Probably break. Here's a hair clip. Metal, thin, a good possibility. Then something makes me try a different drawer. Here's another jackknife. Has a knife blade. Has a screwdriver blade. Bonsai!
Screw turns, fixture gets rinsed out, CFU placed, and fixture actually fits over the CFU.
Resourceful girl wins! Learning? How to spell jackknife.
Epilogue: Recently I decided my Special Power is screaming. I haven't yet decided what it accomplishes.
A day off that I wasn't sure would be a day off because I promised that if one of the other nurses got called to jury duty I would come in. I decided that it was only fair, since so far I have called in sick, asked for funeral leave, requested Holy Days off, asked for time off for my nephew's wedding, and asked for an extra day off so I can "do" Ethnic Fest an extra day. Only fair. It took all morning to find out if I was needed or not, so anyway I finally decided I was off the hook, ate my grape nuts with applesauce and soy milk, and I need to buy more grape nuts by the way, and I decided to do a load of laundry, and just when I flipped on the light switch for the little foyer where the laundry sits behind louvered doors [always wanted to use the word louvered], the light bulb blew.
No problem. Right on the shelf over the dryer is a box of CFU's. And I'm looking at the shallow light fixture and thinking that there's no way a CFU is going to fit in there, imagining that the light bulb is in there vertically. So if I need to, I will just leave the fixture off. CFU's all the way.
So I get out my very short stool which I use as seating at my very small and short dining table which is really nothing of the sort, more of a sort of small coffee table, but if I used a regular non-dwarf dining table it would take up my entire very small dining room and all I would do is cover it in papers as my ancestors did before me. So I use a very small table. So I get out this little stool and it's just tall enough for me to reach the light fixture, and now my problems begin.
I start loosening up the screws at the side that hold in the glass fixture, I've done this a thousand times, no problem. One little screw, two little screws, darn. The third screw is stuck. Okay, I need more traction. Don't have a piece of leather, which would be ideal. A piece of that rubbery stuff with holes in it meant for opening jar lids. Doesn't work. Now what? At this point I actually consider calling the landlord. To change a light bulb? No way. I realize this screw, although everyone knows they can be turned with fingers, actually is a screw and has a screw slot in the end.
I probably have fifty screw drivers. Somewhere else. I don't know where they are. No junk drawer here. Go upstairs. Find a drawer that has unsorted junk from one of the junk drawers in the old house [which is probably unsorted from the junk drawers in the house before that.] Oh, good, a short screwdriver just the right length . . . and it's a Philips head. Okay, here's a little metal jackknife. It opens. Knife blade. No good. Try other side. No soap. Won't open. May never know if it's a screw driver blade.
Knife blade won't close. I try a multitude of methods, which if they work, position my fingers in front of the blade so I will be maimed if the blade closes. Doesn't work. Probably for the best. Again I consider calling the landlord. Since I haven't rented an apartment alone since my college dorm room, I'm not sure of the protocol. Surely some of his tenants are so feeble they can't change a light bulb?
Here's a cardboard nail file. Probably break. Here's a hair clip. Metal, thin, a good possibility. Then something makes me try a different drawer. Here's another jackknife. Has a knife blade. Has a screwdriver blade. Bonsai!
Screw turns, fixture gets rinsed out, CFU placed, and fixture actually fits over the CFU.
Resourceful girl wins! Learning? How to spell jackknife.
Epilogue: Recently I decided my Special Power is screaming. I haven't yet decided what it accomplishes.
Friday, June 24, 2011
The Voice of God
The Kitab-i-Iqan, Baha'u'llah's Book of Certitude, illuminates beautifully in many passages the dual station of the Manifestations of God, the Founders of the world's major religions.
To every discerning and illumined heart it is evident that God, the unknowable Essence, the divine Being, is immensely exalted beyond every human attribute, such as corporeal existence, ascent and descent, egress and regress. Far be it from His glory that human tongue should adequately recount His praise, or that human heart comprehend His fathomless mystery. He is and hath ever been veiled in the ancient eternity of His Essence, and will remain in His Reality everlastingly hidden from the sight of men.
The door of the knowledge of the Ancient of Days being thus closed in the face of all beings, the Source of infinite grace . . . hath caused those luminous Gems of Holiness to appear out of the realm of the spirit, in the noble form of the human temple, and be made manifest unto all men, that they may impart unto the world the mysteries of the unchangeable Being, and tell of the subtleties of His imperishable Essence. These sanctified Mirrors, these Day-springs of ancient glory are one and all Exponents on earth of Him Who is the central Orb of the universe, its Essence and ultimate Purpose. From Him proceed their knowledge and power; from Him is derived their sovereignty.
Baha'u'llah
The following sayings and writings are from some of these Gems of Holiness, speaking with the voice of God:
Say: I, verily, am the Path of God unto all who are in the heavens and all who are on the Earth; well is it with them that hasten thereunto!
I am, I am, I am the Promised One! I am the One Whose name you have for a thousand years invoked, at whose mention you have risen, whose advent you have longed to witness, and the hour of Whose Revelation you have prayed God to hasten. Verily, I say, it is incumbent upon the peoples of both the East and the West to obey My word and to pledge allegiance to My person.
I am the light of the world: he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.
I am the Source of all spiritual and material worlds. Everything emanates from Me. The wise who perfectly know this engage in My devotional service and worship Me with all their hearts.
Howbeit when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He shall guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatsoever He hear, shall He speak: and He will shew you things to come.
There is one God, and there is none other but He.
He who knows Me as the Unborn, as the Beginningless, as the Supreme Lord of all the Worlds--he only, undeluded among men, is freed from all sins.
I am the Way, the Truth and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by Me.
Say: He is Allah, who is One, Allah, the eternal refuge. He neither begets nor is born, nor is there to Him any equivalent.
I am the generating seed of all existences. There is no being--moving or nonmoving-- that can exist without Me.
Naught is seen in My temple but the Temple of God, and in My beauty but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the Truth, and in Myself naught could be seen but God.
To every discerning and illumined heart it is evident that God, the unknowable Essence, the divine Being, is immensely exalted beyond every human attribute, such as corporeal existence, ascent and descent, egress and regress. Far be it from His glory that human tongue should adequately recount His praise, or that human heart comprehend His fathomless mystery. He is and hath ever been veiled in the ancient eternity of His Essence, and will remain in His Reality everlastingly hidden from the sight of men.
The door of the knowledge of the Ancient of Days being thus closed in the face of all beings, the Source of infinite grace . . . hath caused those luminous Gems of Holiness to appear out of the realm of the spirit, in the noble form of the human temple, and be made manifest unto all men, that they may impart unto the world the mysteries of the unchangeable Being, and tell of the subtleties of His imperishable Essence. These sanctified Mirrors, these Day-springs of ancient glory are one and all Exponents on earth of Him Who is the central Orb of the universe, its Essence and ultimate Purpose. From Him proceed their knowledge and power; from Him is derived their sovereignty.
Baha'u'llah
The following sayings and writings are from some of these Gems of Holiness, speaking with the voice of God:
Say: I, verily, am the Path of God unto all who are in the heavens and all who are on the Earth; well is it with them that hasten thereunto!
I am, I am, I am the Promised One! I am the One Whose name you have for a thousand years invoked, at whose mention you have risen, whose advent you have longed to witness, and the hour of Whose Revelation you have prayed God to hasten. Verily, I say, it is incumbent upon the peoples of both the East and the West to obey My word and to pledge allegiance to My person.
I am the light of the world: he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.
I am the Source of all spiritual and material worlds. Everything emanates from Me. The wise who perfectly know this engage in My devotional service and worship Me with all their hearts.
Howbeit when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He shall guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatsoever He hear, shall He speak: and He will shew you things to come.
There is one God, and there is none other but He.
He who knows Me as the Unborn, as the Beginningless, as the Supreme Lord of all the Worlds--he only, undeluded among men, is freed from all sins.
I am the Way, the Truth and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by Me.
Say: He is Allah, who is One, Allah, the eternal refuge. He neither begets nor is born, nor is there to Him any equivalent.
I am the generating seed of all existences. There is no being--moving or nonmoving-- that can exist without Me.
Naught is seen in My temple but the Temple of God, and in My beauty but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the Truth, and in Myself naught could be seen but God.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Iqan: Key to Understanding All Scripture
The Kitab-i-Iqan, The Book of Certitude, revealed by Baha'u'llah over about 48 hours in the middle of the 19th Century, holds the very simple key to understanding scriptures of this and all past Revelations from God.
From the Iqan I have learned that everything has an inner meaning and an outer meaning. People who have difficulty recognizing Baha'u'llah and the truth of this Revelation have mental, emotional, spiritual veils in between them and their own hearts, which block their receptivity and perception of the truth. For Christians and Muslims, especially, the Iqan examines some of those veils and reveals the hidden inner meanings of prophecies regarding the return of the Messiah and the End Times.
I was able to apply some of my learning from this yesterday when my husband and I were strolling along the walk above the beach at Titlow Park. We encountered a very focused and energetic man I'll call Mark [because that was his name] who was looking for converts to the Jehovah's Witnesses. I allowed my husband to take the lead in listening to Mark, not because my husband is a man and therefore a superior being, but because he is miles ahead of me in the qualities of sociability and patience. So I stood and listened and prayed.
Eventually I was able to interrupt and put in two points: Christ said, "I have many things to tell you, but ye cannot bear them yet. Howbeit when He who is the Spirit of Truth is come, He will guide you to all truth." [Roughly paraphrased.] I pointed out that Christ didn't say "I" will come, but "He" will come, indicating a different individual. Also, it is mentioned that Christ will come "with a new name." This also indicates a different actual individual from Jesus [the Personality] Christ [the Station.]
I'd love to say that Mark immediately stated he would study this with an open mind and an open heart. Actually he said he would look at the Baha'i Faith with a microscope, root, tree, and branch, to point out all the errors, as he has done with all other Faiths in the past.
The Iqan has helped me by seeing that all Religions really are part of the same Book of God, which makes it much easier to go to the heart of Scripture which illuminates the oneness of God and His Messengers. It has also helped me to realize the dual Station of God's Messengers: the human personality, and the selfless Station of the Manifestation of God, which is universal.
Say: naught is seen in My temple but the temple of God, and in My beauty but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the truth, and in Myself, naught could be seen but God.
~Baha'u'llah
From the Iqan I have learned that everything has an inner meaning and an outer meaning. People who have difficulty recognizing Baha'u'llah and the truth of this Revelation have mental, emotional, spiritual veils in between them and their own hearts, which block their receptivity and perception of the truth. For Christians and Muslims, especially, the Iqan examines some of those veils and reveals the hidden inner meanings of prophecies regarding the return of the Messiah and the End Times.
I was able to apply some of my learning from this yesterday when my husband and I were strolling along the walk above the beach at Titlow Park. We encountered a very focused and energetic man I'll call Mark [because that was his name] who was looking for converts to the Jehovah's Witnesses. I allowed my husband to take the lead in listening to Mark, not because my husband is a man and therefore a superior being, but because he is miles ahead of me in the qualities of sociability and patience. So I stood and listened and prayed.
Eventually I was able to interrupt and put in two points: Christ said, "I have many things to tell you, but ye cannot bear them yet. Howbeit when He who is the Spirit of Truth is come, He will guide you to all truth." [Roughly paraphrased.] I pointed out that Christ didn't say "I" will come, but "He" will come, indicating a different individual. Also, it is mentioned that Christ will come "with a new name." This also indicates a different actual individual from Jesus [the Personality] Christ [the Station.]
I'd love to say that Mark immediately stated he would study this with an open mind and an open heart. Actually he said he would look at the Baha'i Faith with a microscope, root, tree, and branch, to point out all the errors, as he has done with all other Faiths in the past.
The Iqan has helped me by seeing that all Religions really are part of the same Book of God, which makes it much easier to go to the heart of Scripture which illuminates the oneness of God and His Messengers. It has also helped me to realize the dual Station of God's Messengers: the human personality, and the selfless Station of the Manifestation of God, which is universal.
Say: naught is seen in My temple but the temple of God, and in My beauty but His Beauty, and in My being but His Being, and in My self but His Self, and in My movement but His Movement, and in My acquiescence but His Acquiescence, and in My pen but His Pen, the Mighty, the All-Praised. There hath not been in My soul but the truth, and in Myself, naught could be seen but God.
~Baha'u'llah
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Vegetables!
Really craving vegetables today. Time is short, on my work schedule, for cooking.
This evening we were both craving vegetables so stopped at Cappy's Produce on the way home and bought lots of things, to the tune of some wonderful jazz.
Stir-Fried Vegetables
Slice &/or Dice:
1/2 eggplant
green pepper
red pepper
several mushrooms
onion
garlic cloves to taste
some ginger root
something else was in there but I can't remember what it was
fresh tomatoes sliced up
a little cilantro
squeeze in juice from half a lemon
stir-fry in grapeseed oil
Corn Tortilla Quesadillas
grate quite a bit of cheese [of choice]
open a can of pinto beans and drain
chop onions
slice tomatoes into wedges
peel and chop up an avocado
chop up some cilantro [yes, some of these ingredients overlap!]
for convenience, place all these ingredients into a bowl and use a soup spoon to ladle them out.
Heat up the skillet until the smoke detector goes off, then open some windows and cool down the skillet a little. Place corn tortilla on skillet for about 20 seconds, then flip. [Now it is finally flexible.] Add about 2 tablespoons grated cheese, a tablespoon of beans, some diced onions and avocado and a wedge of tomato, and a pinch of cilantro. Using flipper, fold tortilla over [if you tried to do this cold, it would just break.] Flip after 10 to 20 seconds. Rescue quesadilla and as many innards as you can scrape up from the skillet, before it blackens. Repeat as many times as you want &/or until ingredients are used up.
A terrible tragedy: too full for strawberries.
This evening we were both craving vegetables so stopped at Cappy's Produce on the way home and bought lots of things, to the tune of some wonderful jazz.
Stir-Fried Vegetables
Slice &/or Dice:
1/2 eggplant
green pepper
red pepper
several mushrooms
onion
garlic cloves to taste
some ginger root
something else was in there but I can't remember what it was
fresh tomatoes sliced up
a little cilantro
squeeze in juice from half a lemon
stir-fry in grapeseed oil
Corn Tortilla Quesadillas
grate quite a bit of cheese [of choice]
open a can of pinto beans and drain
chop onions
slice tomatoes into wedges
peel and chop up an avocado
chop up some cilantro [yes, some of these ingredients overlap!]
for convenience, place all these ingredients into a bowl and use a soup spoon to ladle them out.
Heat up the skillet until the smoke detector goes off, then open some windows and cool down the skillet a little. Place corn tortilla on skillet for about 20 seconds, then flip. [Now it is finally flexible.] Add about 2 tablespoons grated cheese, a tablespoon of beans, some diced onions and avocado and a wedge of tomato, and a pinch of cilantro. Using flipper, fold tortilla over [if you tried to do this cold, it would just break.] Flip after 10 to 20 seconds. Rescue quesadilla and as many innards as you can scrape up from the skillet, before it blackens. Repeat as many times as you want &/or until ingredients are used up.
A terrible tragedy: too full for strawberries.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Kindness to Animals
Visiting a friend in Summit, who had young chickens running around her yard, I learned for the first time as I watched a flock of them flowing gracefully out of the hedge, that chickens are beautiful birds. They have individual personalities. They love to peck things from the grass and roll in the dust.
When I was in first grade we took a field trip to the chicken farm owned by the parents of one of my classmates. I was impressed by the mechanization, seeing thousands of chickens in individual cages, with little chutes to collect the eggs. I didn't notice at the time how clean and orderly it was. The chickens I saw looked healthy; they looked like chickens. These were the 1960's, in the early days of what has come to be known as factory farming. I should have been impressed with the openness of the farmer, inviting children to see his operation.
Factory farming has now "progressed" to meet the demands of the marketplace and create as much product with as little care and work as possible [the way of all factory-based industries.] Last night I forced myself to watch a horror movie, "Meet Your Meat", a much copied, and therefore in places inoperable, disc purveyed by PETA which I picked up at the Araya vegetarian Thai restaurant in Seattle. Among the horrors shown by hidden camera, such as workers brutalizing pigs, they show stealth films taken inside chicken sheds which hold up to 100,000 chickens. [Also, refer to the book, "Eating Animals" by Jonathan Safran Foer.]
There are many birds inside each cage, the manure following the law of gravity creates mountains of filth below the lowest levels of cages, into which some chickens fall. Animals are debeaked [sans anesthesia] to prevent them from pecking each other; they become trapped in the wires or under the feeding troughs, to slowly starve to death; they become disease-ridden and disfigured by disease; they lose their feathers. Dead animals are left in the cages to rot. The atmosphere is filled with drifting feathers. Patterns of light and darkness are controlled to maximize egg production. Dumpsters are filled with the dead and nearly dead. These farms are closed to the public, the sheds locked. Not to prevent people from stealing birds. To prevent the public from seeing the contents.
I say to these "farmers": unlock the sheds. Open your doors to field trips. Proudly show how well you care for your livestock to everyone. Consumers have a right to know the source of the food they select from the market.
Then, O ye friends of God! Ye must not only have kind and merciful feelings for mankind, but ye should also exercise the utmost kindness towards every living creature. The physical sensibilities and instincts are common to animal and man. Man is, however, negligent of this reality and imagines that sensibility is peculiar to mankind, therefore he practices cruelty to the animal. In reality what difference is there in physical sensations! . . . The poor animal cannot speak, it can neither show its suffering nor is it able to appeal to the government. If it is harmed a thousand times by man it is not able to defend itself in words nor can it seek justice or retaliate. . . . Educate the children in their infancy in such a way that they may become exceedingly kind and merciful to the animals. If an animal is sick they should endeavor to cure it; if it is hungry, they should feed it; if it is thirsty, they should satisfy its thirst; if it is tired, they should give it rest.
~ 'Abdu'l-Baha
When I was in first grade we took a field trip to the chicken farm owned by the parents of one of my classmates. I was impressed by the mechanization, seeing thousands of chickens in individual cages, with little chutes to collect the eggs. I didn't notice at the time how clean and orderly it was. The chickens I saw looked healthy; they looked like chickens. These were the 1960's, in the early days of what has come to be known as factory farming. I should have been impressed with the openness of the farmer, inviting children to see his operation.
Factory farming has now "progressed" to meet the demands of the marketplace and create as much product with as little care and work as possible [the way of all factory-based industries.] Last night I forced myself to watch a horror movie, "Meet Your Meat", a much copied, and therefore in places inoperable, disc purveyed by PETA which I picked up at the Araya vegetarian Thai restaurant in Seattle. Among the horrors shown by hidden camera, such as workers brutalizing pigs, they show stealth films taken inside chicken sheds which hold up to 100,000 chickens. [Also, refer to the book, "Eating Animals" by Jonathan Safran Foer.]
There are many birds inside each cage, the manure following the law of gravity creates mountains of filth below the lowest levels of cages, into which some chickens fall. Animals are debeaked [sans anesthesia] to prevent them from pecking each other; they become trapped in the wires or under the feeding troughs, to slowly starve to death; they become disease-ridden and disfigured by disease; they lose their feathers. Dead animals are left in the cages to rot. The atmosphere is filled with drifting feathers. Patterns of light and darkness are controlled to maximize egg production. Dumpsters are filled with the dead and nearly dead. These farms are closed to the public, the sheds locked. Not to prevent people from stealing birds. To prevent the public from seeing the contents.
I say to these "farmers": unlock the sheds. Open your doors to field trips. Proudly show how well you care for your livestock to everyone. Consumers have a right to know the source of the food they select from the market.
Then, O ye friends of God! Ye must not only have kind and merciful feelings for mankind, but ye should also exercise the utmost kindness towards every living creature. The physical sensibilities and instincts are common to animal and man. Man is, however, negligent of this reality and imagines that sensibility is peculiar to mankind, therefore he practices cruelty to the animal. In reality what difference is there in physical sensations! . . . The poor animal cannot speak, it can neither show its suffering nor is it able to appeal to the government. If it is harmed a thousand times by man it is not able to defend itself in words nor can it seek justice or retaliate. . . . Educate the children in their infancy in such a way that they may become exceedingly kind and merciful to the animals. If an animal is sick they should endeavor to cure it; if it is hungry, they should feed it; if it is thirsty, they should satisfy its thirst; if it is tired, they should give it rest.
~ 'Abdu'l-Baha
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Soul: An Eternal Bird
O Thou kind Lord! . . . Thou hast invited the wandering birds to the rose garden of grace.
[The soul] is the first among all created things to declare the excellence of its Creator, the first to recognize His glory, to cleave to His truth, and to bow down in adoration before Him.
Know thou of a truth, that if the soul of any man hath walked in the ways of God, it will, assuredly, return and be gathered to the glory of the Beloved.
To consider that after the death of the body the spirit perishes is like imagining that a bird in a cage will be destroyed if the cage is broken, though the bird has nothing to fear from the destruction of the cage.
They that are the followers of the one true God, shall, the moment they depart out of this life, experience such joy and gladness as would be impossible to describe.
Blessed is the man that hath turned his face towards God, and walked steadfastly in His love, until his soul hath winged its flight unto God, the Sovereign Lord of all, the Most Powerful, the Ever-Forgiving, the All-Merciful.
O Thou Forgiver of Sins! Open Thou the way for this awakened soul to enter Thy Kingdom, and enable this bird, trained by Thy hand, to soar in the eternal rose garden.
[The soul] is the first among all created things to declare the excellence of its Creator, the first to recognize His glory, to cleave to His truth, and to bow down in adoration before Him.
Know thou of a truth, that if the soul of any man hath walked in the ways of God, it will, assuredly, return and be gathered to the glory of the Beloved.
To consider that after the death of the body the spirit perishes is like imagining that a bird in a cage will be destroyed if the cage is broken, though the bird has nothing to fear from the destruction of the cage.
They that are the followers of the one true God, shall, the moment they depart out of this life, experience such joy and gladness as would be impossible to describe.
Blessed is the man that hath turned his face towards God, and walked steadfastly in His love, until his soul hath winged its flight unto God, the Sovereign Lord of all, the Most Powerful, the Ever-Forgiving, the All-Merciful.
O Thou Forgiver of Sins! Open Thou the way for this awakened soul to enter Thy Kingdom, and enable this bird, trained by Thy hand, to soar in the eternal rose garden.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Ten Things I Learned From Mom
1. Go potty before any expedition.
2. Wear sensible shoes.
3. Cook whole foods from scratch.
4. Every object has some kind of use.
5. I'll get organized some day.
6. When you hit a "sprague", it's time to take a break.
7. Making things is fun, useful and satisfying.
8. If I knew what it cost beforehand, I wouldn't have taken that cat to the vet.
9. If people really want to see us, they can deal with the house the way it is.
10. I usually have time for you.
2. Wear sensible shoes.
3. Cook whole foods from scratch.
4. Every object has some kind of use.
5. I'll get organized some day.
6. When you hit a "sprague", it's time to take a break.
7. Making things is fun, useful and satisfying.
8. If I knew what it cost beforehand, I wouldn't have taken that cat to the vet.
9. If people really want to see us, they can deal with the house the way it is.
10. I usually have time for you.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
A Different Run; Or How Not to Do A Medication Pass
Yesterday I came to work with the goal of becoming more organized on my run, and was beginning to settle in for the day when one of the nursing assistants looked at the schedule and said, "you're on South today, Arlene." I looked at the schedule, which had many entries crossed out, in disbelief. That horrible sinking feeling when you know that you are going to be far out of your comfortable and familiar routine. New "on the floor", I can barely do my own med run in an organized manner. Because of a severe staffing shortage of nurses, I and another nurse from the long-term care side had been moved to the more active Medicare side of the building, where neither of us had ever practiced. Although we recognized that our assignments were the best solutions to a difficult problem, we felt as if we had been hijacked. I was assigned to a very active and challenging run, and the other nurse not only had an unfamiliar run, but had to split a run with another nurse, taking 30 instead of 20 patients, mostly "tube feeders" and very time-consuming.
We met with the Director of Nursing to clarify our assignments, and I helped the other nurse accept our difficult situation. Later it turned out that, like staff who work double shifts, a meal tray was provided for us, in recognition for accepting a difficult assignment. This was welcome, as I knew there was no way we would have time for a lunch break.
As it turned out, I had three tube feedings to start at a specific time, one person with one IV antibiotic to run and another person who had two IV's during the shift, as well as seven people who needed their blood sugars checked before dinner and at bedtime.
Despite an excellent report from the outgoing nurse, the day immediately went to chaos trying to relieve "Lucinda" of her horrible pain from back abcesses. One of her as-needed medications, oxycodone, had been allowed to run out, and she was screaming that she needed relief NOW. I phoned the pharmacy and learned that, since this was not a new prescription, they would not allow taking it from the emergency "E-Kit." Fortunately there is a team of two doctors who take turns every week visiting the facility every day, so the doctor wrote a prescription for Dilaudid. More time on the phone with the pharmacy, obtaining permission to pull the Dilaudid. Unfortunately, only one med cart set of keys had the key to the narcotics E-Kit, and none of the nurses assigned to those carts knew which set of keys had the narcotics key, or what it looked like. I went from one to another nurse, borrowing their keys and trying them in the locked cupboard. Finally I phoned the Director of Nursing, who was still in the building, who found the appropriate key and obtained the Dilaudid for me. It was well after 4 PM and I hadn't done any of the seven before-dinner blood sugar tests on that hall, or delivered more than a few medications.
For the next seven hours I had three interruptions for every patient I visited. I discovered that multiple family members come in the back door every evening at different times, setting off the alarm. Lucinda's bariatric bed broke and the maintenance man came in, who ended up waiting for someone else to come in who could help him repair the bed; the repairman had to come down from Lynnwood to Puyallup on a Friday evening, completing his regular route as he came. Lucinda was transferred from her bed to a "shower bed" constructed of giant-bore PVC pipe, to a regular bed; then ultimately back to her own bed after it was repaired. None of this could have been comfortable.
Later in the evening, personnel from a mortuary came in the back door, with business on another hall, setting off the alarm every time they entered or left. I kept receiving phone calls about residents I knew nothing about. The entire shift was total chaos. When the night nurse came in, I enlisted her help to finish up the medication pass [fortunately I only had about two people left to see.] As a crowning touch to the evening, the night nurse placed the cart keys in the top drawer, and one of us locked the keys inside the cart. Fortunately, on another set of keys there was a key to the business office suite. By some miracle, the DNS' office was unlocked, which had a spare key to the cart.
It was a horrible feeling to scrape by, just barely getting the medications delivered and blood sugars and insulins done, feeling so frustrated and incompetent. I have to say that everyone was alive at the end of the shift, and I did not make medication errors, and the evening came to an end eventually. I would not want to repeat it.
There is a reason they call it a medication "run."
Epilogue: When I turned on my phone after I came home, I learned that while I was at work, my mother had died.
We met with the Director of Nursing to clarify our assignments, and I helped the other nurse accept our difficult situation. Later it turned out that, like staff who work double shifts, a meal tray was provided for us, in recognition for accepting a difficult assignment. This was welcome, as I knew there was no way we would have time for a lunch break.
As it turned out, I had three tube feedings to start at a specific time, one person with one IV antibiotic to run and another person who had two IV's during the shift, as well as seven people who needed their blood sugars checked before dinner and at bedtime.
Despite an excellent report from the outgoing nurse, the day immediately went to chaos trying to relieve "Lucinda" of her horrible pain from back abcesses. One of her as-needed medications, oxycodone, had been allowed to run out, and she was screaming that she needed relief NOW. I phoned the pharmacy and learned that, since this was not a new prescription, they would not allow taking it from the emergency "E-Kit." Fortunately there is a team of two doctors who take turns every week visiting the facility every day, so the doctor wrote a prescription for Dilaudid. More time on the phone with the pharmacy, obtaining permission to pull the Dilaudid. Unfortunately, only one med cart set of keys had the key to the narcotics E-Kit, and none of the nurses assigned to those carts knew which set of keys had the narcotics key, or what it looked like. I went from one to another nurse, borrowing their keys and trying them in the locked cupboard. Finally I phoned the Director of Nursing, who was still in the building, who found the appropriate key and obtained the Dilaudid for me. It was well after 4 PM and I hadn't done any of the seven before-dinner blood sugar tests on that hall, or delivered more than a few medications.
For the next seven hours I had three interruptions for every patient I visited. I discovered that multiple family members come in the back door every evening at different times, setting off the alarm. Lucinda's bariatric bed broke and the maintenance man came in, who ended up waiting for someone else to come in who could help him repair the bed; the repairman had to come down from Lynnwood to Puyallup on a Friday evening, completing his regular route as he came. Lucinda was transferred from her bed to a "shower bed" constructed of giant-bore PVC pipe, to a regular bed; then ultimately back to her own bed after it was repaired. None of this could have been comfortable.
Later in the evening, personnel from a mortuary came in the back door, with business on another hall, setting off the alarm every time they entered or left. I kept receiving phone calls about residents I knew nothing about. The entire shift was total chaos. When the night nurse came in, I enlisted her help to finish up the medication pass [fortunately I only had about two people left to see.] As a crowning touch to the evening, the night nurse placed the cart keys in the top drawer, and one of us locked the keys inside the cart. Fortunately, on another set of keys there was a key to the business office suite. By some miracle, the DNS' office was unlocked, which had a spare key to the cart.
It was a horrible feeling to scrape by, just barely getting the medications delivered and blood sugars and insulins done, feeling so frustrated and incompetent. I have to say that everyone was alive at the end of the shift, and I did not make medication errors, and the evening came to an end eventually. I would not want to repeat it.
There is a reason they call it a medication "run."
Epilogue: When I turned on my phone after I came home, I learned that while I was at work, my mother had died.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Divine Physician
The All-Knowing Physician hath His finger on the pulse of mankind. He perceiveth the disease, and prescribeth, in His unerring wisdom, the remedy . . . The remedy the world needeth in its present-day afflictions can never be the same as that which a subsequent age may require.
~Baha'u'llah
The Prophets of God should be regarded as physicians whose task it is to foster the well-being of the world and its peoples, that, through the spirit of oneness, they may heal the sickness of a divided humanity. To none is given the right to question their words or disparage their conduct, for they are the only ones who can claim to have understood the patient and to have correctly diagnosed its ailments. Little wonder, then, if the treatment prescribed by the physician in this day should not be found identical with that which he hath prescribed before.
~Baha'u'llah
Man can never hope to attain unto the knowledge of the All-Glorious unless and until he ceases to regard the words and deeds of mortal men as a standard for the true understanding and recognition of God and His Prophets.
~Baha'u'llah
Behold how contrary are the ways of the Manifestations of God, as ordained by the King of Creation, to the ways and desires of men!
~Baha'u'llah
~Baha'u'llah
The Prophets of God should be regarded as physicians whose task it is to foster the well-being of the world and its peoples, that, through the spirit of oneness, they may heal the sickness of a divided humanity. To none is given the right to question their words or disparage their conduct, for they are the only ones who can claim to have understood the patient and to have correctly diagnosed its ailments. Little wonder, then, if the treatment prescribed by the physician in this day should not be found identical with that which he hath prescribed before.
~Baha'u'llah
Man can never hope to attain unto the knowledge of the All-Glorious unless and until he ceases to regard the words and deeds of mortal men as a standard for the true understanding and recognition of God and His Prophets.
~Baha'u'llah
Behold how contrary are the ways of the Manifestations of God, as ordained by the King of Creation, to the ways and desires of men!
~Baha'u'llah
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Free?
Was offered a free newspaper at the grocery store the other day. "Why not? It's free!" he said. "No, it's not," I said. "Yes, it is," he said. By that time I was out the door to load up my groceries, so I didn't stay around to play yes-it-is/no-it's-not. When you give your information to them, which is required to receive a free paper, you are selling your information. For seventy-five cents.
Last time I did this, probably some time in the 80's, I didn't realize I would be looking forward to ten years of solicitor's calls from the News Tribune every six months, usually from someone in Dallas. At this time they had passed the legislation requiring solicitors, if you told them to stop, to stop calling you. Which the News Tribune steadfastly ignored. I would say, "Last time you called, I asked you to stop phoning you. But now you are phoning me again. Which is against the law." "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am."
I also have a card with Safeway. These grocery store cards [all except for Fred Meyer, which works differently] are always promoted as a way to save money at the store. To pay regular grocery prices, it's required to get a card. It's not a save-money card, it's a fail-to-let-them-gouge-you-card.
I always hated the intrusiveness. In the beginning, at Safeway, they would always address me by name at the checkout counter. I go to the store expecting to be anonymous, and in fifteen years I have never gotten used to being addressed by name by a grocery clerk. Except for Mrs. Jackman in the neighborhood store in 1960. Addressing me by name does not make you Mrs. Jackman. It makes you intrusive.
"Don't call me Mrs. Fritz," I would snarl. "We're just being friendly. We're required to do that."
I still have the same card, but a different phone number [fortunately still memorized, for when I forget my card.] I also have changed names at least twice. So when they call me "Mrs. Fritz" it is no longer my name, so I just smile.
Don't even get me started on "Drive safely!" Now I have more manners [slightly] I no longer reply, "What do you think I am? A moron? I'm going to drive out there and see if I can't hit a few light poles."
Last time I did this, probably some time in the 80's, I didn't realize I would be looking forward to ten years of solicitor's calls from the News Tribune every six months, usually from someone in Dallas. At this time they had passed the legislation requiring solicitors, if you told them to stop, to stop calling you. Which the News Tribune steadfastly ignored. I would say, "Last time you called, I asked you to stop phoning you. But now you are phoning me again. Which is against the law." "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am."
I also have a card with Safeway. These grocery store cards [all except for Fred Meyer, which works differently] are always promoted as a way to save money at the store. To pay regular grocery prices, it's required to get a card. It's not a save-money card, it's a fail-to-let-them-gouge-you-card.
I always hated the intrusiveness. In the beginning, at Safeway, they would always address me by name at the checkout counter. I go to the store expecting to be anonymous, and in fifteen years I have never gotten used to being addressed by name by a grocery clerk. Except for Mrs. Jackman in the neighborhood store in 1960. Addressing me by name does not make you Mrs. Jackman. It makes you intrusive.
"Don't call me Mrs. Fritz," I would snarl. "We're just being friendly. We're required to do that."
I still have the same card, but a different phone number [fortunately still memorized, for when I forget my card.] I also have changed names at least twice. So when they call me "Mrs. Fritz" it is no longer my name, so I just smile.
Don't even get me started on "Drive safely!" Now I have more manners [slightly] I no longer reply, "What do you think I am? A moron? I'm going to drive out there and see if I can't hit a few light poles."
Monday, March 21, 2011
Notes on Studying the Kitab-i-Iqan
Studying the Kitab-i-Iqan [The Book of Certitude] by Baha'u'llah in the Wilmette Institute online course, Dr. Moojen Momen presented quite a list of suggestions for themes to study:
The Station of the Manifestations [my favorite theme in the Iqan]
The Proofs of the Manifestations
The meaning of Divine Sovereignty/Divine Kingship
How did Baha'u'llah introduce clergy, as a class, in the Iqan?
What is meant by human knowledge?
What is meant by divine knowledge?
What is the difference, and which one is more acceptable?
What are the veils standing between us and God?
The subject of tests. "Do men think when they say 'we believe' they shall be let alone and not be put to proof?" After having tests, we will become stronger and stronger in our faith.
God is unknowable, and everything you thought you knew about God is actually knowledge of the Manifestation.
The Station of the Manifestations [my favorite theme in the Iqan]
The Proofs of the Manifestations
The meaning of Divine Sovereignty/Divine Kingship
How did Baha'u'llah introduce clergy, as a class, in the Iqan?
What is meant by human knowledge?
What is meant by divine knowledge?
What is the difference, and which one is more acceptable?
What are the veils standing between us and God?
The subject of tests. "Do men think when they say 'we believe' they shall be let alone and not be put to proof?" After having tests, we will become stronger and stronger in our faith.
God is unknowable, and everything you thought you knew about God is actually knowledge of the Manifestation.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Gems of Divine Mysteries
I'm taking an online course on two books by Baha'u'llah: Gems of Divine Mysteries, and the Kitab-i-Iqan [Book of Certitude.] I would like to share a little bit from one of the themes of the Gems.
Baha'u'llah asks:
What hath prompted the divers peoples and kindreds of the earth to reject the Apostles whom God hath sent unto them in His might and power, whom He hath raised up to exalt His Cause and ordained to be the Lamps of eternity within the Niche of His oneness?
He answers this in five sentences which I will sum up: 1. People fail to fix their gaze upon the testimony of God; 2. They follow the footsteps of the abject and foolish among the leaders and divines; 3. They refuse to see with the eyes "wherewith God hath endowed them." 4. They desired things other than God hath desired for them; 5. They cling to the outward meaning of scripture.
Baha'u'llah asks:
What hath prompted the divers peoples and kindreds of the earth to reject the Apostles whom God hath sent unto them in His might and power, whom He hath raised up to exalt His Cause and ordained to be the Lamps of eternity within the Niche of His oneness?
He answers this in five sentences which I will sum up: 1. People fail to fix their gaze upon the testimony of God; 2. They follow the footsteps of the abject and foolish among the leaders and divines; 3. They refuse to see with the eyes "wherewith God hath endowed them." 4. They desired things other than God hath desired for them; 5. They cling to the outward meaning of scripture.
Done
My career as a resident care manager at "Mountain View" is kaput. I was so busy trying to keep up with things that no earthly human could really keep up with that I didn't even notice my 90 day probationary period was up, until I was called into the DNS' office and learned that I will not be kept on in that position.
She will do a couple of things for me; extend my probationary period two weeks; offer me an evening position working on the "floor", doing medications and treatments and MD calls and all that. So that keeps the wolf from the door, but there went my Mon thru Fri days, there went my free evenings and weekends.
This news came on the brink of me finally getting The Cold that many at work have been getting, keeping me home for two days. I don't dare ask for more off.
She will do a couple of things for me; extend my probationary period two weeks; offer me an evening position working on the "floor", doing medications and treatments and MD calls and all that. So that keeps the wolf from the door, but there went my Mon thru Fri days, there went my free evenings and weekends.
This news came on the brink of me finally getting The Cold that many at work have been getting, keeping me home for two days. I don't dare ask for more off.
Monday, March 7, 2011
On Call
I was on call at "Mountain View" from 8 PM Friday to 8 AM Monday. Friday I had gone out to dinner, then gone to bed late [for me] about 10:30.
Friday: 11:19 PM.
My first call came 11:19 from the evening and night nurses on an allegation, which I walked them through: yes, you have to send home the staff member [which would put them short an aide and be a severe inconvenience]; yes, chart on the patient and put her on alert; yes, initiate an incident report; call police? At this point I had them phone the Director of Nursing and she informed them that the whole thing stemmed from a previous allegation which has been disproved, no sending anyone home--wait, have they clocked out--and no incident report. I get to sleep somewhere around one AM.
Saturday: 10:05 AM.
Received call from the weekend nurse manager that a night shift nurse called in, and that the usual practice when that happens is to split up a run so two instead of three nurses could cover it. The only nurse to call, according to "Janet", is someone who is pregnant and probably wouldn't come in. We decide to leave it at that.
Saturday: 8:09 PM.
Received call from "Mary" about newly readmitted Mr. Burpee calling out loudly for no discernible reason for the last three hours, despite morphine and Ativan, until his wife got there. It's a male room: can the wife stay there? I said she can visit and when they do personal care, leave the room. Resident is not supposed to go back to the hospital. I ask if Haldol is available, suggest calling the MD; it turns out that they don't know who the on-call doctor is for the MD. I suggested calling the MD's cell phone and apologizing and asking who the on-call MD is. I call back to follow up in an hour and it turns out that Mr. Burpee is now quiet and they opted not to phone MD.
Saturday: 9:35 PM.
Received call from "Laura" night nurse asking who is coming in to replace the nurse who called off? I explained what Janet had told me, to split the shift, and that we had agreed not to fill the vacancy. Laura said that when she was manager on call, she always came in to fill a shift, and was I going to come in? I said I hadn't been planning to, and she became angry and said, "Thanks for all your help!" Clunk.
Saturday: 9:50 PM.
Received call from evening nurse, "Francisca", who said she had phoned Janet to ask Janet to call Laura about the staffing issue. I said that I hadn't slept well last night and I had trusted what Janet told me about splitting the run and I wasn't prepared to work.
Saturday: 10:05 PM.
Received a series of texts from "Alison" the DNS clarifying that I did not call people to try to fill the night shift because I trusted what Janet had told me. Alison said I should notify the facility that the census is low, try to get people to stay late &/or come in early, and offer to go in. I found a day shift nurse to come in at 4:00 AM, dressed for work and came in to help with the night shift from 11:30 PM to 4:00 AM. When I got there I apologized to Laura and said what Janet and I did wrong, and that if I had been in her place I would have been angry too. She was very gracious. I learned to use the facility's very weird glucometer, gave several people their meds, almost all of them through gastrostomy tubes, and unplugged a recalcitrant tube which clearly had not been flushed after the last feeding. I went home feeling somewhat heroic.
Sunday I slept till 8 AM when I thoughtlessly answered a call from a phone solicitor, dozed till 10 AM, gave up and showered, spent time on the internet, and was downstairs eating lunch when the phone rang again.
Sunday: 1 PM:
Received a call from Janet that an evening shift nurse had called in and she had not been able to replace him. My heart sank. I swore. I went through the 7 Stages of Death, "DABDA": Denial, Anger, Bargaining, D-something, Acceptance, and Death. [Wait, that's only six. Guess I need to bone up.] I packed a lunch and dressed and went to work. I worked on the cart on my wing, having gotten an excellent report and worked out a game plan with the day nurse, and had to deal with severe staffing issues for the CNA's [there had been four call-in's.] We had one able-bodied aide and one on light duty for 30 residents. It required a show of force to the other side to get them to trade an able CNA with our light-duty CNA.
I was checking blood pressures, blood sugars, and popping pills out of bubble packs until I was able to take a lunch from 7:30 to 8:00, completed an incident report on a skin tear, and very ready to go home by 9:30 PM. There was only one medication I couldn't find and I found out it was at the bedside, where the resident's family members administered it. The family was very nice about it. About 8 PM I received a call from the hospital asking if I would take a readmission and I was very firm and clear in my "NO!"
After report and counting with the night nurse, and still on call until 8 AM, I instructed her not to call me during the night unless there was a chain saw massacre.
Friday: 11:19 PM.
My first call came 11:19 from the evening and night nurses on an allegation, which I walked them through: yes, you have to send home the staff member [which would put them short an aide and be a severe inconvenience]; yes, chart on the patient and put her on alert; yes, initiate an incident report; call police? At this point I had them phone the Director of Nursing and she informed them that the whole thing stemmed from a previous allegation which has been disproved, no sending anyone home--wait, have they clocked out--and no incident report. I get to sleep somewhere around one AM.
Saturday: 10:05 AM.
Received call from the weekend nurse manager that a night shift nurse called in, and that the usual practice when that happens is to split up a run so two instead of three nurses could cover it. The only nurse to call, according to "Janet", is someone who is pregnant and probably wouldn't come in. We decide to leave it at that.
Saturday: 8:09 PM.
Received call from "Mary" about newly readmitted Mr. Burpee calling out loudly for no discernible reason for the last three hours, despite morphine and Ativan, until his wife got there. It's a male room: can the wife stay there? I said she can visit and when they do personal care, leave the room. Resident is not supposed to go back to the hospital. I ask if Haldol is available, suggest calling the MD; it turns out that they don't know who the on-call doctor is for the MD. I suggested calling the MD's cell phone and apologizing and asking who the on-call MD is. I call back to follow up in an hour and it turns out that Mr. Burpee is now quiet and they opted not to phone MD.
Saturday: 9:35 PM.
Received call from "Laura" night nurse asking who is coming in to replace the nurse who called off? I explained what Janet had told me, to split the shift, and that we had agreed not to fill the vacancy. Laura said that when she was manager on call, she always came in to fill a shift, and was I going to come in? I said I hadn't been planning to, and she became angry and said, "Thanks for all your help!" Clunk.
Saturday: 9:50 PM.
Received call from evening nurse, "Francisca", who said she had phoned Janet to ask Janet to call Laura about the staffing issue. I said that I hadn't slept well last night and I had trusted what Janet told me about splitting the run and I wasn't prepared to work.
Saturday: 10:05 PM.
Received a series of texts from "Alison" the DNS clarifying that I did not call people to try to fill the night shift because I trusted what Janet had told me. Alison said I should notify the facility that the census is low, try to get people to stay late &/or come in early, and offer to go in. I found a day shift nurse to come in at 4:00 AM, dressed for work and came in to help with the night shift from 11:30 PM to 4:00 AM. When I got there I apologized to Laura and said what Janet and I did wrong, and that if I had been in her place I would have been angry too. She was very gracious. I learned to use the facility's very weird glucometer, gave several people their meds, almost all of them through gastrostomy tubes, and unplugged a recalcitrant tube which clearly had not been flushed after the last feeding. I went home feeling somewhat heroic.
Sunday I slept till 8 AM when I thoughtlessly answered a call from a phone solicitor, dozed till 10 AM, gave up and showered, spent time on the internet, and was downstairs eating lunch when the phone rang again.
Sunday: 1 PM:
Received a call from Janet that an evening shift nurse had called in and she had not been able to replace him. My heart sank. I swore. I went through the 7 Stages of Death, "DABDA": Denial, Anger, Bargaining, D-something, Acceptance, and Death. [Wait, that's only six. Guess I need to bone up.] I packed a lunch and dressed and went to work. I worked on the cart on my wing, having gotten an excellent report and worked out a game plan with the day nurse, and had to deal with severe staffing issues for the CNA's [there had been four call-in's.] We had one able-bodied aide and one on light duty for 30 residents. It required a show of force to the other side to get them to trade an able CNA with our light-duty CNA.
I was checking blood pressures, blood sugars, and popping pills out of bubble packs until I was able to take a lunch from 7:30 to 8:00, completed an incident report on a skin tear, and very ready to go home by 9:30 PM. There was only one medication I couldn't find and I found out it was at the bedside, where the resident's family members administered it. The family was very nice about it. About 8 PM I received a call from the hospital asking if I would take a readmission and I was very firm and clear in my "NO!"
After report and counting with the night nurse, and still on call until 8 AM, I instructed her not to call me during the night unless there was a chain saw massacre.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Thou Most Shrill Pen
This is how it goes. Weeks of nothing, then lots.
I'm very excited to begin my first Baha'i online course [I took one last year from eCornell on plant-based nutrition] from the Wilmette Institute on the Kitab-i-Iqan and Gems of Divine Mysteries.
Doing a collaborative art/collage project at Feast prompted me to remember one of my haikus from the past:
O Thou Most Shrill Pen!
May Thy ink flow in my veins,
Write my life for Thee.
I'm very excited to begin my first Baha'i online course [I took one last year from eCornell on plant-based nutrition] from the Wilmette Institute on the Kitab-i-Iqan and Gems of Divine Mysteries.
Doing a collaborative art/collage project at Feast prompted me to remember one of my haikus from the past:
O Thou Most Shrill Pen!
May Thy ink flow in my veins,
Write my life for Thee.
A Voice
Since I began living alone, I started talking to myself incessantly, and trying to remember not to do it at work or in public, to fill the non-meowing silence. Speaking of meowing, Gregory at last report is happy with his new adopted family, and Juliet, initially angry and withdrawn at her move, is at least resigned and starting to come out and socialize.
I started saying my obligatory prayers aloud for the first time ever. I no longer say them in a whisper, so as not to offend anyone else. [In the townhouse, I've never heard voices from the other wall, only the washer and dishwasher and showers and occasional thumps and bumps, so I think I'm safe.] For the first time, I give actual expression to something which before was more a mental series of words. I've noticed that the degree to which I am willing to pray aloud reflects my relative level of fear versus confidence at that particular time.
My other thought was that we all started with the Voice of God. In the beginning was the Word. The Creative Word.
He is the One Who sayeth, "Be thou," and it is.
~Baha'u'llah
When I get things more organized, I want to do two things: start a monthly Devotional Meeting here, and find out what other Baha'is all live in Puyallup so we can get together and see what we need to consolidate and expand the community.
Artwork to post: three painted canoe paddles our family did as a Girl Scout activity years ago; my daughter's water color painting of a horse; a painting by Walter Palmore which I received in trade for some vests I made him years ago; one large and one small photo of 'Abdu'l-Baha; a color print of a Walter Palmore painting; a framed poster of Indian etchings [can't think of the proper name right now] showing two large Figures and a smaller one in between which could be seen as prophetic; and if there's room, my Mountain of the Lord tapestry. Whoo. Also multiple photos of my daughter and a painting of me by her based on an old photo.
I started saying my obligatory prayers aloud for the first time ever. I no longer say them in a whisper, so as not to offend anyone else. [In the townhouse, I've never heard voices from the other wall, only the washer and dishwasher and showers and occasional thumps and bumps, so I think I'm safe.] For the first time, I give actual expression to something which before was more a mental series of words. I've noticed that the degree to which I am willing to pray aloud reflects my relative level of fear versus confidence at that particular time.
My other thought was that we all started with the Voice of God. In the beginning was the Word. The Creative Word.
He is the One Who sayeth, "Be thou," and it is.
~Baha'u'llah
When I get things more organized, I want to do two things: start a monthly Devotional Meeting here, and find out what other Baha'is all live in Puyallup so we can get together and see what we need to consolidate and expand the community.
Artwork to post: three painted canoe paddles our family did as a Girl Scout activity years ago; my daughter's water color painting of a horse; a painting by Walter Palmore which I received in trade for some vests I made him years ago; one large and one small photo of 'Abdu'l-Baha; a color print of a Walter Palmore painting; a framed poster of Indian etchings [can't think of the proper name right now] showing two large Figures and a smaller one in between which could be seen as prophetic; and if there's room, my Mountain of the Lord tapestry. Whoo. Also multiple photos of my daughter and a painting of me by her based on an old photo.
At Home
I've been in my new home since February 12. It feels like home. I don't always feel at home in myself, but that is another story. I have a lot of organizing to do here, and a lot of moving things over from Tacoma, and cleaning in Tacoma, and more organizing here, that I really don't have time for right now.
The last two weeks at work were harrowing: the DNS was away, and the mice will play. The Corporate Nurse, who can sometimes be very helpful, and other times not, spent days at the facility and strangely at the same time we were doing investigations, and interviewing residents, which brought a lot of allegations out of the woodwork--some valid, many not. It felt like a witch hunt. I lost sleep, became extremely stressed, and my only saving grace was relying on God and reminding myself, "Don't let this be about you." Finally this week I got some sleep.
I'm on call at work this weekend, and received my first call after I'd been asleep an hour: another allegation, a badly-needed CNA to send home; finally I said to phone the DNS and when I called back to follow up, it turned out that this was an old, disproved allegation reiterated by the resident, and nobody had to go home, and the police did not have to be called, and I don't think I got back to sleep before one in the morning.
Which, before breakfast, Mr. Cable Man came over because of my intermittent slow internet speed. I had come up with a theory, which proved to be correct: that my computer continued to search for wireless connections in the neighborhood [this is a duplex] and that search plus being on other peoples' servers by accident, caused some very slow speeds. So we turned off the wireless faculty on my computer, so the modem is the only connection, and I learned how to turn on the wireless whenever I should need it, and my speed has gone way up.
I now have the weekend, and breakfast, before me to try to get this place organized, put up pictures and other artwork, and so forth. I also plan to go to work as a ghost to try to get caught up. [A ghost because I plan to do work off the clock.]
So. Here I am.
The last two weeks at work were harrowing: the DNS was away, and the mice will play. The Corporate Nurse, who can sometimes be very helpful, and other times not, spent days at the facility and strangely at the same time we were doing investigations, and interviewing residents, which brought a lot of allegations out of the woodwork--some valid, many not. It felt like a witch hunt. I lost sleep, became extremely stressed, and my only saving grace was relying on God and reminding myself, "Don't let this be about you." Finally this week I got some sleep.
I'm on call at work this weekend, and received my first call after I'd been asleep an hour: another allegation, a badly-needed CNA to send home; finally I said to phone the DNS and when I called back to follow up, it turned out that this was an old, disproved allegation reiterated by the resident, and nobody had to go home, and the police did not have to be called, and I don't think I got back to sleep before one in the morning.
Which, before breakfast, Mr. Cable Man came over because of my intermittent slow internet speed. I had come up with a theory, which proved to be correct: that my computer continued to search for wireless connections in the neighborhood [this is a duplex] and that search plus being on other peoples' servers by accident, caused some very slow speeds. So we turned off the wireless faculty on my computer, so the modem is the only connection, and I learned how to turn on the wireless whenever I should need it, and my speed has gone way up.
I now have the weekend, and breakfast, before me to try to get this place organized, put up pictures and other artwork, and so forth. I also plan to go to work as a ghost to try to get caught up. [A ghost because I plan to do work off the clock.]
So. Here I am.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Autonomy
I have to violate copyright law and post a quote from Robert B. Parker in Family Honor, c. 1999.
A female character is explaining something to a teenage female character:
"Sooner or later you're going to have to decide things because you think you should."
"How can I do that," Millicent said. She raised her head and stared straight at me. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "I don't know anything."
"You know one of the hard things about being a woman," I said, "is having some built-in compass that doesn't depend on others."
"I don't know what you mean," Millicent said.
"When you're talking to a male," I said. "And you want to urge him to the do the right thing you can say, 'Be a man.' " . . . "That implies that some rules of behavior come from inside," I said. "But if I tell you that maybe your goal is to be a woman, that implies what? Being compassionate? Being a good caregiver? Being sexually attractive? Cooking well?"
I was surprised at what I was saying, and how strongly I was saying it. I felt like Simone de Beauvoir.
"Being a woman implies being in a male context," I said. "Being a man implies being fully yourself. You understand what I'm saying?"
I was surprised by the synchronicity of this selection with what I am feeling as I move into a townhouse and live by myself for the first time since 1978. I feel guilty and anxious. I really have to trust myself. Many people have questioned if I have the right to do this, or if it is the right thing to do.
I don't know what would be the right thing for them to do. But I'm following my heart despite my fears, because this is the only situation which meets my needs. And I have decided I have the right to meet my needs no matter what other people think. Someday I hope I can do this without the guilt and anxiety.
I have been reading about existentialism lately.
A female character is explaining something to a teenage female character:
"Sooner or later you're going to have to decide things because you think you should."
"How can I do that," Millicent said. She raised her head and stared straight at me. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "I don't know anything."
"You know one of the hard things about being a woman," I said, "is having some built-in compass that doesn't depend on others."
"I don't know what you mean," Millicent said.
"When you're talking to a male," I said. "And you want to urge him to the do the right thing you can say, 'Be a man.' " . . . "That implies that some rules of behavior come from inside," I said. "But if I tell you that maybe your goal is to be a woman, that implies what? Being compassionate? Being a good caregiver? Being sexually attractive? Cooking well?"
I was surprised at what I was saying, and how strongly I was saying it. I felt like Simone de Beauvoir.
"Being a woman implies being in a male context," I said. "Being a man implies being fully yourself. You understand what I'm saying?"
I was surprised by the synchronicity of this selection with what I am feeling as I move into a townhouse and live by myself for the first time since 1978. I feel guilty and anxious. I really have to trust myself. Many people have questioned if I have the right to do this, or if it is the right thing to do.
I don't know what would be the right thing for them to do. But I'm following my heart despite my fears, because this is the only situation which meets my needs. And I have decided I have the right to meet my needs no matter what other people think. Someday I hope I can do this without the guilt and anxiety.
I have been reading about existentialism lately.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Drops and Prisms
I recently printed out a letter from 'Abdu'l-Baha to a believer who had falsehoods against him printed in journals; quoting an excerpt: "As to those things published in journals against thee: Thou shouldst not be grieved nor sorry therefor, because thousands of journals have been written traducing 'Abdu'l-Baha, have given false and base accusations and awful calumnies . . . these cause me to exert myself more than usual in the path of God and to drink the cup of sacrifice and to boil in the fire of His love. Man must seek to gain the acceptance of God and not that of the different classes of men. If one is praised and chosen by God, the accusation of all the creatures will cause no loss to him; and if the man is not accepted in the threshold of God, the praise and admiration of all men will be of no use to him."
This assuaged my heart somewhat for being pulled aside by someone in the upper echelons at work Friday, for being insufficiently positive and leader-like.
Sorting and packing for work is a struggle. I called some numbers for bills to change my billing address and for some reason, giving the new address made me incredibly sad, even though this is a conscious choice I am making. This morning [never check Facebook before work--it will make you late!] I watched a beautiful 20 minute film about Marguerite Sears, and it opened up a fountain of tears, as it did this afternoon when I watched it again.
Feast last night was wonderful. I became reacquainted with some of the people in my new community; as there is no Assembly yet in Puyallup, we are attending the neighboring feast.
I don't know why it saddens me to move, when this is a deliberate motion to divest myself of material attachments, downsize, and lower my payments. This is an opportunity to trust in God. I am homefront pioneering; I put myself and my affairs in the hands of God. I love the little townhouse where I am moving. It doesn't have much of a view, though. It's in town, not in the country. I will miss my 0.42 acres of back yard, the view where I can watch the sun rise over Mount Rainier at dawn, and watch the moon traverse the sky at night.
I was thus feeling tired and sad, when something prompted me to look out the window. Thinking of all the broken dreams in this house, I stepped bare-headed and barefoot out onto the deck in the rain at sunset to stand for twenty minutes and watch a full glorious double rainbow.
Tear drops, rain drops. Maybe each can be a prism.
How vast the oceans of wisdom that surge within a drop.
~Baha'u'llah
This assuaged my heart somewhat for being pulled aside by someone in the upper echelons at work Friday, for being insufficiently positive and leader-like.
Sorting and packing for work is a struggle. I called some numbers for bills to change my billing address and for some reason, giving the new address made me incredibly sad, even though this is a conscious choice I am making. This morning [never check Facebook before work--it will make you late!] I watched a beautiful 20 minute film about Marguerite Sears, and it opened up a fountain of tears, as it did this afternoon when I watched it again.
Feast last night was wonderful. I became reacquainted with some of the people in my new community; as there is no Assembly yet in Puyallup, we are attending the neighboring feast.
I don't know why it saddens me to move, when this is a deliberate motion to divest myself of material attachments, downsize, and lower my payments. This is an opportunity to trust in God. I am homefront pioneering; I put myself and my affairs in the hands of God. I love the little townhouse where I am moving. It doesn't have much of a view, though. It's in town, not in the country. I will miss my 0.42 acres of back yard, the view where I can watch the sun rise over Mount Rainier at dawn, and watch the moon traverse the sky at night.
I was thus feeling tired and sad, when something prompted me to look out the window. Thinking of all the broken dreams in this house, I stepped bare-headed and barefoot out onto the deck in the rain at sunset to stand for twenty minutes and watch a full glorious double rainbow.
Tear drops, rain drops. Maybe each can be a prism.
How vast the oceans of wisdom that surge within a drop.
~Baha'u'llah
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