Causerie

Lettuce Begin...

At work I'm responsible for three gardens.  Initially, my job description did not include tilling, planting, watering, weeding and the harvesting of vegetables and fruit, but you know how these things go. 

On Friday, I'm rolling up my sleeves, throwing on my hat and helping a group of "high-risk" youth get down and dirty in soil that will produce tomatoes, peppers and herbs for them and their families.  Out of the 15 kids who are to participate, only one is familiar with gardening and he has a broken hand.  This is funny to me in an ironic sort of way.

Meanwhile at home in my back yard garden, I've harvested enough lettuces to make a delicious, cruncy , beautifully green and organic salad.

 Believe me when I tell you that you haven't had a salad until you've pulled off those leaves yourself, washed them in cold water and then placed on a salad plate from your cabinet.

Ummmm.

 

 

 

 

A few more words...

So, Mr. Man said, "Every day I've been checking Causerie and all I see is "My Words are Few".  He looked at me a few seconds then added, "I know your words are few, but do you think you can add a few more?"  He's right.  It's been too long since we last talked.

The transition from our conversation about Trayvon to something else left me speechless. I hadn't been able to move on respectfully, so I remained silent.  I've been checking in to read new comments and there's one that I can't shake off.  It's something KT said a few days ago.

In her comment, Katy mentioned that she doesn't watch television (so she wasn't aware of the Trayvon Martin tragedy).  My first thought was, "But how can she know what's going on in the world? And then I wondered, "How will she know when the zombies arrive?" 

Years ago when the Rodney King "incident" took place, Mr. Man and I were in Colorado.  We intentionally did not watch television (except for a bowling tournament because my father-in-law was interested), nor did we listen to the radio.  I can't remember if we even had a computer back them.  The point is, purposefully we censored ourselves from all things media. A black-out of sorts and it was great.

When we returned to Kansas City, I turned on the television for local news and the seemingly on-going, never-ending news footage of the violence in California made me almost vomit. I was terrified and horrified.  Shocked and confused.  I was so discombobulated it felt as though I was watching it through a thick plastic bubble that had somehow been manipulated by the man behind the curtain.

I remember thinking that it was foolish for us to have tuned out the world during our little vacation paradise and that it was potentially dangerous to have been so uninformed.  (After all, I was Black and Mr. Man was White --- not necessarily a good combination during race riots).

After that, I purposed to try to be aware of what is happening locally and nationally - at least knowledgeable about the "big" stories. But, as I've "matured" and I've seen the worst of the worst on my old non-high-def television screen, I must admit, Katy, I totally get it.  There's something in me that wants to shut it all down and turn it all off, too.  I'm not saying I want to bury my head in the sand (because, believe me, I want to know when the zombies are headed towards my house) but, sometimes, I just get so weary and so fearful that a media blackout is exactly what my soul, my mind and my body needs.

My Words Are Few

I wrote a post about it and decided to not publish it (yet).  Everything about it --- the wording, the sentiments, my emotions were off (and perhaps a little too raw) and for this reason I haven't shared my thoughts about the Trayvon Martin tragedy. 

And yes, it is a tragedy. Families are devastated and it appears as though our country is on the brink of an emotional and racial powder keg that will probably render everyone bloody, bruised and internally wounded for life. 

I'm considering my words, even now.  I'm trying to listen to my heart while watching "The News".  And, I'm wringing my hands like my grandmother used to do when she was worried.  We need to talk about this and I think I'll be ready to do so soon.  Until then, I'd like to know what are you thinking about this?  What are you feeling?

Spreading the Wealth

We took a trip to the Federal Reserve Bank. 

This is what $40 million dollars looks like.

 

 

Whew!

As my friend says whenever she's experienced challenging situations, "It's been more than a notion." 

This cold, or flu or three-degrees away from seeing the Lord face to face has been rough. R-U-F-F.

I haven't bounced back like I used to.  Could it be because I'm almost 50 now?  Perhaps it's because these super germs are only getting stronger and my immune system is getting weaker.  In the winter months I don't get enough fresh air.  Maybe that has something to do with it.

I'm not back just yet.  In fact, I have an appointment with my pulmonologist next week.  This cough has been stubborn.  

Good health should not be taken for granted.

 

 

 

Fear

I am not brave.  In fact, I'm a very fearful person.

My fears are real (at least in my heart and mind).  I've been told that some of my greatest fears are irrational.  Bears, for instance.  There are no bears where I live, but I sometimes worry that there might be.  I'm afraid to fly and I'm terrified to be in water where I can't feel the bottom.  And lightning.  A thunderstorm with lightning sends me beneath the covers calling out to the Lord.

I don't remember when I turned into such a scaredy-cat and it feels like the older I get, the more fearful I become.  Drive-by shootings, child abductions, human trafficking, nuclear war and breast cancer have now replaced my fear of clowns, vampires and mice.

Here's the thing:  I know the source of my fears and the battle against it has been waged. Sometimes, the war is daily, sometimes it's on a minute-by-minute schedule.  It's not an easy thing to take on terror.  It's very much, I imagine, like trying to escape from a bear.  A mother bear.  A slightly wounded mother bear.  With cubs.

(With really, really hungry cubs...)

Read

I've been a fan of Lisa's blog for over a year now.  I wonder how can one person read so many books?  How can one person have this much knowledge and intelligence?  How is it possible that this witty librarian book-reviewer extraordinaire have such an amazing sense of humor?  (Maybe that's stereotyping...) 

Any how, Lisa is like the friend you need for those times when you're around smart people who ask stuff like ("Oh and have you read such-and-such?")  Believe me, Lisa's read it.

So, if you are trying to figure out what to read next, you must read her blog first.  Check this out. (Get it?  Check this out!  Library humor...)