I don't always eat when I read, but I usually read when I eat. I also read a lot of library books. So it's no surprise when other eater/readers have been there before me. Sometimes you can tell what the food was, from the leavings, sometimes you can't. It calls for speculation. Cheetoh's are always obvious. Jam and bread, macaroni and cheese, chocolate . . . I find their history fascinating.
I try to be a little neater when I read, and not leave any history behind.
Today I had just made some soup in the pressure cooker when my lawyer called. Later after I returned home, I blended it. When ingredients have a lot of peels and lumpy texture, I prefer to blend the soup.
Valentine Soup
4-5 beet roots, cleaned and quartered
4-5 red potatoes, eyed and quartered
2 large carrots, chopped into sections
chopped onion, about a slice
5-6 garlic cloves, peeled
several shakes of: dill, turmeric, cumin, coriander, a little rosemary and a little cardamom
Place all into pressure cooker with two cups water and cook on high twenty minutes. Let the pressure release naturally by cooling down. Add:
one cup leftover baked squash
one or two cups soy milk
sea salt to taste
Blend in food processor until smooth.
Why can't I ever remember the name of cardamom?
Friday, February 12, 2010
More Learnings
So my deadline for signing my refinancing loan was today, and I may have missed it. We'll see. I was moping about, had just made some soup in the pressure cooker with potatoes, leeks, beets and carrots when the lawyer's office phoned and said my former son-in-law signed the quit-claim deed. So I met with my wonderful lawyer and signed some forms acknowledging all that, and she emailed and Fed-Exed it to the escrow in Florida, and if they send the forms I can go sign Monday if possible, or Tuesday, taking off from work a couple hours.
Coming through these tests [and when haven't I been in tests in the last five years?] gives a person a fresh perspective. It's a new opportunity for detachment. I realized with joy that I am glad I made the house improvements that I did, even if it goes to someone else tomorrow. The Writings point out that no ownership is permanent, even our bodies, and that tomorrow someone else will own what we have [except, fortunately, our bodies. There has to be some limit to avarice.] If someone else owns this house tomorrow, which, figuratively they will, I will have made it more beautiful.
Really, it was a chance to re-consecrate my house, my livelihood, to God.
So I was thinking as I watched the gulls circle the streets of downtown Tacoma from the thirteenth floor.
Coming through these tests [and when haven't I been in tests in the last five years?] gives a person a fresh perspective. It's a new opportunity for detachment. I realized with joy that I am glad I made the house improvements that I did, even if it goes to someone else tomorrow. The Writings point out that no ownership is permanent, even our bodies, and that tomorrow someone else will own what we have [except, fortunately, our bodies. There has to be some limit to avarice.] If someone else owns this house tomorrow, which, figuratively they will, I will have made it more beautiful.
Really, it was a chance to re-consecrate my house, my livelihood, to God.
So I was thinking as I watched the gulls circle the streets of downtown Tacoma from the thirteenth floor.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
It Ain't Nohow Permanent
In the comic strip Pogo, in the mouth [or maybe it was in the beak] of one of his characters, Walt Kelly comments: "Don't take life so serious, son--it ain't nohow permanent."
I've been failing at my relationships, in the throws of a struggle to save my house by refinancing, feeling extremely stressed at work, and kind of wishing for death, which shows how depressed I am. Buddhism teaches that the cause of suffering is attachment.
In the fall of 2006, my daughter and son-in-law were living with me in my former house, and I was looking at us a happy extended family. So I accepted my son-in-law's help in putting down some money on a down payment and closing costs for a house I could afford the interest-only payments for, but really couldn't afford. Let me count the ways that was dumb. Fast-forward the 31 months my [now former] son-in-law lived in the house without having to make any of the outrageous mortgage payments, and I decided to try to refinance a house for which the two loans are worth about a third to a half more than the estimated resale value of the home.
Eventually the current interest-only mortgage payments will rise to an unaffordable rate and I will be facing foreclosure and I will lose the house. If the house is foreclosed it will trash my credit and I will not be able to purchase a home, only rent one. I have tons of stuff and three cats.
Here is why I would like to stay here, besides the huge cost of moving and the enormous hassle. It has a huge yard abutting other huge yards [instead of looking out on other roofs as in a development]; a wonderful unobstructed view of Mt. Rainier out of my bedroom window; speaking of windows I put in very expensive energy-efficient vinyl windows last year; I redid my bath enclosure in beautiful ceramic tile; the kitchen and dining room floor, once vinyl, are now mahogany hardwood, thanks to moi; and I have great ideas for re-doing the kitchen if I ever get rich. And my stuff and daughter and cats are here.
Former Son-in-law wants his "investment" back, and refuses to sign the quit-claim deed to get off the title and the mortgage, even though I could have sworn he has indicated in the past his motivation to get off the mortgage. So here we are, stuck. Meanwhile I am on my first extension of the refinance offer/process with my bank and time is running out. The good news is that I went to a lawyer, who is friendly and nice and wonderful. Whether her approach to son-in-law is effective or obtains desired results in the short amount of time left, remains to be seen.
I hate waiting to see what happens. Even though I've done what I can, and at this stage things are out of my hands, I hate the suspense. Will I have to say goodbye to my wonderful home? I practice saying goodbye subconsciously a hundred times a day. This is where I need more detachment so I can move on with my life.
Which ain't nohow permanent, anyway.
I've been failing at my relationships, in the throws of a struggle to save my house by refinancing, feeling extremely stressed at work, and kind of wishing for death, which shows how depressed I am. Buddhism teaches that the cause of suffering is attachment.
In the fall of 2006, my daughter and son-in-law were living with me in my former house, and I was looking at us a happy extended family. So I accepted my son-in-law's help in putting down some money on a down payment and closing costs for a house I could afford the interest-only payments for, but really couldn't afford. Let me count the ways that was dumb. Fast-forward the 31 months my [now former] son-in-law lived in the house without having to make any of the outrageous mortgage payments, and I decided to try to refinance a house for which the two loans are worth about a third to a half more than the estimated resale value of the home.
Eventually the current interest-only mortgage payments will rise to an unaffordable rate and I will be facing foreclosure and I will lose the house. If the house is foreclosed it will trash my credit and I will not be able to purchase a home, only rent one. I have tons of stuff and three cats.
Here is why I would like to stay here, besides the huge cost of moving and the enormous hassle. It has a huge yard abutting other huge yards [instead of looking out on other roofs as in a development]; a wonderful unobstructed view of Mt. Rainier out of my bedroom window; speaking of windows I put in very expensive energy-efficient vinyl windows last year; I redid my bath enclosure in beautiful ceramic tile; the kitchen and dining room floor, once vinyl, are now mahogany hardwood, thanks to moi; and I have great ideas for re-doing the kitchen if I ever get rich. And my stuff and daughter and cats are here.
Former Son-in-law wants his "investment" back, and refuses to sign the quit-claim deed to get off the title and the mortgage, even though I could have sworn he has indicated in the past his motivation to get off the mortgage. So here we are, stuck. Meanwhile I am on my first extension of the refinance offer/process with my bank and time is running out. The good news is that I went to a lawyer, who is friendly and nice and wonderful. Whether her approach to son-in-law is effective or obtains desired results in the short amount of time left, remains to be seen.
I hate waiting to see what happens. Even though I've done what I can, and at this stage things are out of my hands, I hate the suspense. Will I have to say goodbye to my wonderful home? I practice saying goodbye subconsciously a hundred times a day. This is where I need more detachment so I can move on with my life.
Which ain't nohow permanent, anyway.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Dead, Part Two
The whole idea that the only reason there's ever any death is because Adam and Eve screwed up, and otherwise we'd be living in Eden still, equates physical life with the whole of reality. I think that's what depresses me about this concept the most. The only meaning to life is just physical existence.
Everything has an inner and an outer reality. The physical world is just a spot, a bus station for the rest of it. To some people, a womb. A place to stay warm and pick up virtues, qualities necessary for the rest of life, an arena in which I'm rather afraid I'll be lost and abandoned, but otherwise not too concerned about.
True reality is spiritual. Eternal. The heart. The soul which reflects, like a mirror, the eternal spirit. A physical body is only necessary on this plane, then it needs to be respectably treated and left somewhere safe, while our thoughts, heart, feelings, intelligence, bright soul moves on.
When I used to go to the Good News Club and they said when we went to heaven we'd be issued a new body, just like the one we have here [they weren't JW's, just ordinary Christian fundamentalists] I was appalled. I was only nine but I already knew I loathed my body, hated it [this is really another story] and if I went to heaven I never wanted to see my body again. I certainly didn't want to spend eternity in my body.
Personally, when it comes to death, all I care about is that I somehow get out of it alive. Oops. Depressed again.
For the Baha'i teachings on life and death, visit the Baha'i website.
Everything has an inner and an outer reality. The physical world is just a spot, a bus station for the rest of it. To some people, a womb. A place to stay warm and pick up virtues, qualities necessary for the rest of life, an arena in which I'm rather afraid I'll be lost and abandoned, but otherwise not too concerned about.
True reality is spiritual. Eternal. The heart. The soul which reflects, like a mirror, the eternal spirit. A physical body is only necessary on this plane, then it needs to be respectably treated and left somewhere safe, while our thoughts, heart, feelings, intelligence, bright soul moves on.
When I used to go to the Good News Club and they said when we went to heaven we'd be issued a new body, just like the one we have here [they weren't JW's, just ordinary Christian fundamentalists] I was appalled. I was only nine but I already knew I loathed my body, hated it [this is really another story] and if I went to heaven I never wanted to see my body again. I certainly didn't want to spend eternity in my body.
Personally, when it comes to death, all I care about is that I somehow get out of it alive. Oops. Depressed again.
For the Baha'i teachings on life and death, visit the Baha'i website.
When You're Dead, You're Dead
I picked up two Jehovah's Witness fliers someone had left behind last night on the med cart [I know who left them there, and who gave them to that individual, and why; but they did abandon them.] I read them last night and this morning. They were about everyone's hot topic: Death.
The whole thrust of these little illuminating leaflets was, "what happens to you when you die?" Interestingly, the writing style in these type of leaflets has perked up a little bit. They use a lot more psychobabble and wait until the nearly the last page to inform you about God's plan for reviving everyone He approves of in the last days. They never got around to telling the reader that we're all sinners, death is what we pay for sin, and the remedy is just to get saved, otherwise we're going to burn in hell . . . oh, wait, hell is for people who believe in an afterlife.
JW's only believe in life, not the afterlife, unless you are one the 144,000 lucky souls who actually get to go to heaven and help out there. So, there is a heaven, but not an afterlife, and all the slots have long since been filled--oddly, kind of a relief to me. So for the rest of us, there's just death. As in, when you're dead you're dead. Similar to agnostics and atheists. This whole theme is just so depressing.
One pamphlet went to great lengths to trace the origin of the supposed superstition that people have immortal souls [apparently from Babylon.] It uses Bible quotes to prove that the word "soul" just means something that's alive. It has photographs of every creature from butterflies to whales, with the caption, "this is a soul." I haven't looked up these particular quotes, but usually the translation they use is so different from mine that the meaning is warped beyond all recognition. So, even if one believes the Bible is essentially the word of God, it's hard to validate their point of view.
The rest of the story is that after Jesus comes back to purge the earth from all its problems and create an earthly paradise, all the people [who are saved, but these pamphlets neglected to mention this] will be physically resurrected and reunited with their loved ones to live in this park-like setting, with ample food and other resources which will have been magically provided for them. The illustration did make it look like a good spot for a picnic, with a park bench and mountains in the background. I guess after that they swarm about ecstatically and just . . . live.
All the people in the illustrations have expressions of joy and excitement on their faces, and all the families were properly matched up: caucasians with caucasians, African-Americans with African-Americans, Asians with Asians. But, according to the pamphlet, there's no racism.
The whole thrust of these little illuminating leaflets was, "what happens to you when you die?" Interestingly, the writing style in these type of leaflets has perked up a little bit. They use a lot more psychobabble and wait until the nearly the last page to inform you about God's plan for reviving everyone He approves of in the last days. They never got around to telling the reader that we're all sinners, death is what we pay for sin, and the remedy is just to get saved, otherwise we're going to burn in hell . . . oh, wait, hell is for people who believe in an afterlife.
JW's only believe in life, not the afterlife, unless you are one the 144,000 lucky souls who actually get to go to heaven and help out there. So, there is a heaven, but not an afterlife, and all the slots have long since been filled--oddly, kind of a relief to me. So for the rest of us, there's just death. As in, when you're dead you're dead. Similar to agnostics and atheists. This whole theme is just so depressing.
One pamphlet went to great lengths to trace the origin of the supposed superstition that people have immortal souls [apparently from Babylon.] It uses Bible quotes to prove that the word "soul" just means something that's alive. It has photographs of every creature from butterflies to whales, with the caption, "this is a soul." I haven't looked up these particular quotes, but usually the translation they use is so different from mine that the meaning is warped beyond all recognition. So, even if one believes the Bible is essentially the word of God, it's hard to validate their point of view.
The rest of the story is that after Jesus comes back to purge the earth from all its problems and create an earthly paradise, all the people [who are saved, but these pamphlets neglected to mention this] will be physically resurrected and reunited with their loved ones to live in this park-like setting, with ample food and other resources which will have been magically provided for them. The illustration did make it look like a good spot for a picnic, with a park bench and mountains in the background. I guess after that they swarm about ecstatically and just . . . live.
All the people in the illustrations have expressions of joy and excitement on their faces, and all the families were properly matched up: caucasians with caucasians, African-Americans with African-Americans, Asians with Asians. But, according to the pamphlet, there's no racism.
Another Update
Sorry for the rare posts. I become so drained by work and other crises that I don't have as much time and creativity as I'd like to have.
I'm trying to refinance my house and a former family member, also on loan and title, is obstructing the process.
Today would be a good day to clean house. I think I've forgotten how. I'm not sure how long it will be my house anyway.
Every day I wake up following a whole foods plant based diet. Every day I go to bed a meat eater. Stress.
I'm trying to refinance my house and a former family member, also on loan and title, is obstructing the process.
Today would be a good day to clean house. I think I've forgotten how. I'm not sure how long it will be my house anyway.
Every day I wake up following a whole foods plant based diet. Every day I go to bed a meat eater. Stress.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Crisis And Victory
Tonight at Homeland I worked an eight hour shift [Sunday] and several nursing assistants had called off work on both the Green and Pink sides, so there were about six CNA's total in the facility. [There are supposed to be 5 on Green Wing and 6 on Pink Wing.] One nurse on Pink Wing stayed to work an extra shift on the floor doing CNA work. One nurse on the Green Wing stayed over doing ice water and vital signs, and one nurse stayed over to help with dinner.
The most organized nurses worked together to plan dinner: the independent eaters were slated to stay and eat in their rooms; the people needing cueing and feeding were all brought to the main dining room. The CNA's stayed on the floor during dinner, serving trays and answering lights. The nurses worked in the main dining room, serving trays, cueing and feeding residents, picking up trays, cleaning people up after dinner. One CNA from days went home, then came back and helped with dinner, doing the tray monitors. One person from Activities and one person from Medical Records helped with dinner.
Our three CNA's on the floor worked their tails off. I was so proud of them. They are all my heroes. Everyone was fed in record time, there were no falls and no medical crises.
One nurse sent out for pizza for everyone; both the charge nurse on Pink Wing and myself on Green Wing posted "Kudo's" for everyone who helped on the bulletin board in the break room.
The most organized nurses worked together to plan dinner: the independent eaters were slated to stay and eat in their rooms; the people needing cueing and feeding were all brought to the main dining room. The CNA's stayed on the floor during dinner, serving trays and answering lights. The nurses worked in the main dining room, serving trays, cueing and feeding residents, picking up trays, cleaning people up after dinner. One CNA from days went home, then came back and helped with dinner, doing the tray monitors. One person from Activities and one person from Medical Records helped with dinner.
Our three CNA's on the floor worked their tails off. I was so proud of them. They are all my heroes. Everyone was fed in record time, there were no falls and no medical crises.
One nurse sent out for pizza for everyone; both the charge nurse on Pink Wing and myself on Green Wing posted "Kudo's" for everyone who helped on the bulletin board in the break room.
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