Tradition

Big Pine Key, November 2007

When I was growing up, holidays were a nightmare for me. 

I was an outsider in my family. For 363 days of the year, no one seemed to notice or care. But on Thanksgiving and Christmas, my mother demanded that our family present themselves as a cohesive, loving group. Even though we were anything but, she wanted people to think that we were a family worthy of tribute in a Norman Rockwell painting. What this all really meant was that I had to pretend to fit in, or I would be in big trouble. 

I was a crappy actress. I know this because even though I tried as hard as I could to behave as though it was normal for my family relate to me in a tender, loving way, I was punished. It sucked.

I am thankful that those years are behind me. I am thankful that Steve and I have developed our own traditions.

With the exception of this year, we typically vacation in the Keys over Thanksgiving. We take advantage of the four-day weekend; spending lazy days kayaking, hiking, biking, sleeping, browsing through shops and eating great food. It is unquestionably awesome. If we ever have children, we will continue to spend Thanksgiving in the Keys.

Christmas is quieter. Every other year, we visit his parents in South Carolina (although, one of their gifts from us this year is a webcam, so we may never go up there again). The year we stay home, we catch a movie at the Village and have lunch at Wolfgang Puck. That is also total awesomeness. The village is decorated beautifully, Christmas music is on the sound system and we're completely happy for it to be just the two of us (among the other thousand people with the same idea).

When we get home, we watch Christmas movies. For supper, we devour the Wolfgang Puck takeout we ordered specifically to eat at home.

I love our traditions.

I was about ten years old when I asked, "Mom? Do you believe in soul mates?" After she answered, "I think that you can love just about anyone if you really put your mind to it." I sat quiet. I didn't know what to say. It was clear that she did not think my father her soul mate, and worse, that she didn't believe in soul mates. 

I wanted her to believe so that I could believe.

Now that I am old(er), I understand what my mom was saying. I think.

About twelve years ago, I met Leif. After several months of knowing him, I came to believe that he was "the one". We weren't a couple long enough for us to transition beyond the you-are-awesome-I-am-awesome-lovey-dovey stage 1. Then, he went into the Peace Corps (be still my Liberal heart). 

At the time, I felt so grown-up about my unapologetically pragmatic attitude toward his leaving. I said so-long to Leif and wished him well in his work. Though, for many years after he left, I dreamt of his farm-boy smile and crystal blue eyes. My heart was broken, and I was not moving on.

I didn't know what to do.

Eventually, I began to date. No one compared to Leif. I was not optimistic that anyone ever would.

Then I met Steve.

At once, I was flushed and silly, and I knew that he was my second chance. He immediately began occupying the part of my heart that I didn't even realize lay dormant. I wasn't consciously waiting to serendipitously again cross paths with Leif. I wasn't consciously saving my heart for him. But I was, until I met Steve.

Once upon a time, I met the love of my life.

He was wonderful, and we were wonderful.

Then he moved away, and I moved on.

Then I got a second chance.

And I did not squander it.

Ramblings of an unfocused mind

It sure is cold here today!! We don't usually get weather like this until January. Brrrr! (I don't want any lip from the New Englanders in the crowd)

Mt. Dora is a tiny hamlet about an hour north of Orlando. I never understood why so many people gushed about this town. To me, it amounted to little more than a handful of "antique" shops (thrift shops really, but the word antique merits an extravagant markup), a lot of mediocre restaurants and a few tchotchke shops (selling candles, decorative ceiling fan pulls, candles, stained glass night lights, candles, dog breeds imortalized in ceramic, candles, sandstone coasters, candles, Vera Bradley totes and candles). Why would I drive an hour to browse through shops that sell nothing of interest to me? 

Because I'm a dumbass.

Lately, the Mt. Dora Chamber of Commerce has been running a super cute ad on television that makes it look awesome. The first time I saw the ad, I rolled my eyes and thought, "P.L.E.A.S.E!" But after the 10th time, I'd mellowed and wondered if Mt. Dora had something for me after all. Yesterday, I decided find out.

It is the same. Whatever.

My friend Alison doesn't celebrate Christmas. My preference would be not to observe this holiday, but that's not the way Steve rolls. If I had my way, the adults wouldn't be exchanging gifts at all. I once asked him how receptive he thought his family might be to the idea. He paused briefly, then answered, "Not a chance." So much for that.

Christmas is celebrated in such a way that it seems to run counter to the message. I love, Love, L.O.V.E. the idea of Christmas; a time when people share and reflect, gather and celebrate. What escapes me is the gift-giving. At this point in my life, there is nothing that anyone could possibly give me that wouldn't be a nuisance. 

Actually, I think that I do like celebrating Christmas. Only my idea of celebrating is different from the standard American version. Of course, I love the music, and I have fun baking for people. I like to plan Christmas activities - last year we went to St. Augustine to enjoy the lights. I like to do extra things for people, and especially remembering my favorite charities at the end of the year. I like everything except for the buying gifts part. It seems so stupid.

I wonder if my neighbors see me hustling across the street with a foil covered plate and groan. Here I am thinking that everyone loves how thoughtful I am, and they're probably wishing that I'd just give them a Target gift certificate. How ironic would that be?

As far as the gifts-as-nuisance thing goes, here's an example...last year, my aunt sent me a box full of goodies. I know she did it out of love, and I appreciated her thought (I continue to appreciate the thought), but jeeze. She sent me a new tote bag, cat magnets, a sweater, a book on cats (which was really good), a romance novel (does she even know me at all?) and a cookbook. I've only got a million tote bags and honest-to-God what am I going to do with cat magnets (besides the obvious)? If I need it, I already have it. Period. I don't need or want anymore things. If anyone really wants to do something for me that I would really, truly like, they can fire off a $10 check to the Humane Society of the U.S. I'm all for that.

Unfortunately people are unlikely to give to charity in someone's name. Even $10. They'd rather spend $50 on crap, than $10 on something that will make a difference in the world. It's a mystery.

Does honoring other people's traditions that run opposite to my own beliefs make me a hypocrite? I buy the people I love gifts because that is how they celebrate. 

It's a good thing that I don't have kids, because they would absolutely hate me. Maybe I could get away with lying to them, saying that our religion doesn't condone gift-giving. Never mind that my children would never know the inside of a church, and that the religion would be forever unnamed. Is it wrong to lie to your kids (wink)?

I think that I really do believe in Christmas, just my own version.

Sandhill Cranes

In the backyard today.

Shopping

I H.A.T.E. the mall. 

I went to the Florida Mall this morning to shop for Steve's sister's Christmas gift. 

The mall sucks. 

It was a waste.

My first stop was Nordstrom. While sampling candles in the Home section, a sales rep approached me, and enthused, "Don't all of those candles smell divine?!" I answered that only two of them appealed to me. If you can believe it, the sales rep was annoyed, and launched into a defense of each candle. Unbeknownst to me, it was my job to be enthralled by everything. She then reached for a votive, shoved it under my nose and proclaimed it her favorite. It was too late before it occurred to me that good manners dictated that I affect interest.

After I explained the focus of my visit to the esteemed [ugh] Nordstrom, she suggested that something from their extensive catalog of cockamamie crap such as crystal vases, enamel photo frames or cashmere throws might interest me. She looked me over a second time, and threw in that they had, "a few nice things under $20." Hmmn.

Who buys crystal vases/candlesticks/votives? For that matter, I don't have a personal relationship with anyone who buys blankets that require dry cleaning. No one I know displays photos in enamel frames in their homes. When I was in my 20s, thinking that I wanted to be the kind of person who had a collection of crystal, I bought those sorts of things. Unfortunately for Nordstrom, in my early 30s, I developed a self-awareness that extended the realization that my style is not fussy. I promptly rid myself of the delicate things I'd acquired. 

But, I wasn't shopping for myself. Sandra was the top person on my list this morning. I didn't like anything for her either. I did come across a velvety throw, but after looking at the price tag - $275 - I moved on.

Then, it was time for Dillards (Dillards is Hell on Earth). 

I failed in my attempt to breeze past the cosmetics section uninterrupted. Because I am a dipshit, I acknowledge makeup ladies who stop me, even though I clearly do not want to be stopped. 

That woman's [who looked like she could be the Grim Reaper's grandmother] game was tight. She wasted no time with polite chit-chat, preferring to notice the fine lines around my eyes, and my uneven skin. She asked to know the moisturizer I use. After I answered that I am happy with my moisturizer and happy with my skin, she peered closely at my face. Ironically, it was out of insecurity that I added, "At least, I'm not insecure about my skin - whatever it's condition." She then grabbed my hand, and smeared wrinkle filler across my wrist. As she did so, I firmly explained that there was no way that I would ever buy wrinkle filler, and that even if I had wrinkles to fill, I would never use it. 

I could never do that job. To nit-pick each and every last superficial aspect of a person just to sell a lipstick...her paycheck hinges on making women feel bad about themselves. When I was in my 20s - such were the depths of my insecurities - I would have loaded up on whatever she wanted me to buy. 

I left Dillards empty handed. Things were bleak.

I headed over to the Godiva boutique. Steve has a mild chocolate addiction, and I wanted to surprise him a box of seasonal truffles. Lucky for me, the only person working in the store when I walked by was a gothish freaky looking dude who scared me off. His weirdness saved me about $40. Uh-huh. What sounds superficial, is in fact wisdom. I have without prejudice approached many people who present themselves as this gentleman did. And I have learned that they are consistently annoyingly odd. No thanks.

Then, Santa appeared from nowhere vigorously rattling a leather strip of jingle bells like his life depended on it. He walked up to me. I smiled at him and said, "Good morning." I thought I was courteous. For the second time in one morning, I disappointed a mall employee. Evidentially, he expected me to be swept away by the magic of Christmas, and see more than a guy in costume. A thousand apologies, Santa. 

People are WAY too needy.

Seriously? M&M World? Seriously?

By the time I got to Macy's, my goose was cooked. If I wasn't driving, and if I didn't have other things to do, I would have planted myself in this joint for the next several hours.

I am sad for the Chinese children who work in factories that pump out this junk. Children are abused so that we can buy THIS rubbish?

And this?

When I got home, this pretty butterfly was warming itself in the garden. Home is where I belong.

Bailout

In order for me to condone financial support of Detroit, I require that they abandon their unimaginative business plan that addresses the buying habits of a 10-year old consumer environment, and focus on what consumers want to buy today. But that’s not possible.

It’s not possible because Detroit long ago ignored the value of innovation and creative solutions. U.S. automakers are currently unable to respond to a consumer market that prioritizes fuel-efficient transportation over wasteful SUVs and large trucks because they failed to anticipate and prepare. They allowed the business of new technology to become the domain of Japanese Automakers.

As I write this, the ink is not yet dry on the year-end bonus checks that the Wall Street elite recently wrote themselves. Even if my government learned nothing from bankrolling the financial instrument of Wall Street with few conditions, I have. I understand that people who are corrupt cannot be relied upon to use good judgment when the only virtue they use for guidance is avarice (if I'm being honest, I knew that before the bailout was implemented. I think that most people knew that). Due to the absence of firm restrictions and regulations, I opposed the Wall Street bailout.  

I emphatically object to financial support of the auto industry.

I object because doing so is a waste of money. U.S. automakers have only themselves to blame, and they are the architects of their own demise.

Detroit lobbyists have a long history in Washington. If financial support for Detroit is approved, it will signal only that our representation is as irresponsible as Detroit.

I sent this to my U.S. representation this morning. If this mirrors your attitude toward the bailout, please lift the whole thing, paraphrase, whatever. Just please, contact your legislators and inform them of your position on the bailout of Detroit.

Steve's Father

Steve's dad had surgery Thursday morning to repair a hernia. Hernia surgery has been performed for decades, and has become routine, so much so that it has been perfected to the point that even new techniques have been developed. 

During the operation Thursday morning, for reasons unknown, the surgeon was caught off guard by the severity of Steven's father's hernia. Instead of a 45 minute operation, he was on the table for an hour and a half.

During the operation, Steven's father was intubated. Because he was anesthetized for a 45 minute operation, he began to wake before the surgeon was finished and panicked at the sensation of the tube down his throat. He bit the tube, severing it, resulting in aspiration.

In an effort to quickly anesthetize Steve's dad, the anesthesiologist overdosed him.

What is a routine, outpatient surgery has become a nightmare.

For the next 24 hours, Steven's father did not regain consciousness. When he finally did begin to wake, the hospital immediately released him. 

Steven's mother is 5' 2", 110 lbs. Steven's father is 6' 2" and 170 lbs. 

The drive from the hospital to Steve's parents house is about an hour. By the time they were home, Steve's dad had yet to fully regain consciousness - slipping in and out of a disoriented state of mind. Steven's mother looked at her husband - 170 lbs of dead weight - and knew that she would never be able to help him into the house. She tried anyway, and he toppled over onto her in the driveway. She was pinned underneath him.

I don't know how she did it, but she finally managed to get him indoors and into bed. He remained unconscious for all of last night. This morning, when he wouldn't stir, she called 911. Then she called us to keep us informed.

When Steve talked to her yesterday, he told her that he was flying up to help, but she refused. This morning after they spoke, she again said No when Steve told her that he wanted to be with them. I told Steve to go anyway.

Right now, he is enroute to Atlanta. From Atlanta, he'll drive 2 hours to his parent's home in South Carolina.

His father will likely be in the hospital for another few days. He is in bad shape.

Following protocol, the hospital is disavowing wrongdoing.

It is bad enough when medical professionals make mistakes, but when they adopt a smug demeanor, and look you straight in the eye and lie about everything, THAT is why people lawyer up.

I am sad. 

It is one thing to have a rarely performed, highly specialized surgery with great risks, and to suffer complications from that type of procedure, but a hernia operation? You're sore for a couple of weeks, but you don't DIE from a hernia.

I feel angry because this is pure negligence. I am sad because this is wrong.

How about that?

I turned off the television at around 9 o'clock last night. I didn't have it in me to watch the results go back and forth until it was decided.

Turner woke me a little after 2am to go out to the bathroom. After we were back inside the house, I flipped on the TV, and Jesse Jackson's tearful face filled the screen. Then, I watched as Barack & Michelle Obama walked offstage.  I thought, "So. That's that."

I kept the TV on a few minutes longer to learn the verdict of the local elections. Then I saw that I'd misunderstood. Barack Obama IS our new president.

I wanted Hillary. 

I thought that Obama degraded himself and Hillary in the primary. I didn't think that I would ever vote for him. Maybe he regretted his actions during the primary. He took the high road in the general election. It was nice to see. 

After thoroughly reading Obama's and McCain's plans, my mind was made up for Obama. Not because I'm a generous person, but because I know that if Obama is successful, then everyone in America wins; the quality of life for all Americans will improve while at the same time paying fewer taxes.

Under McCain, only the rich win. 

Everyone wins because better education equals less crime. That is a well documented fact. Law enforcement costs a boatload of money, and all of the money saved with the reduced investment in law enforcement and jails means more money for everything else. It also means that we are all safer. All of us.

Our present healthcare system is bankrupting America. When those who don't have insurance use the emergency room as their primary care physician (because they can't be turned away), our municipalities are stuck with the bill. People who do have insurance are still left with so many out-of-pocket costs that many are selling their homes to pay their bills. Even worse, people losing their homes to foreclosure due to healthcare costs monopolizing their finances. Thanks to our broken healthcare/insurance system, this country is going down in flames.

Bush's actions - such as invading and occupying soverign nations - have made America MORE vulunerable than ever in our history. Bush has taken this country down with this war. Bush, not the terrorists. 

Over the past seven years, fascism has infected our nation. No one can disagree with a complete moron without being labled unpatriotic or a terrorist. I am looking forward to once again becoming a nation where free speech is tolerated.

A woman once turned to me and said, "You would probably blow up a plane." I answered, "I don't believe in terrorism. I also do not condone the illegal activities my government is perpetrating in my name. Their actions jeopardize my life and the safety of all of us. The fact that you would associate me with a terrorist act, simply because I openly disagree with my government says more about you than it does about me." 

This country deserves better than a mediocre (at best) person sitting in the oval office. It came very close to electing another mediocre person. Now, we have Barack Obama. He is a brillant man.

I am not so carried away that I fail to recognize that America reaps what it sows in it's anemic public education system. We remain a nation of idiots. In the same way that many who voted for Bush the previous two elections did so for the wrong reasons, many of those who voted for Obama, did so for the wrong reasons. However, this time Obama is the right choice.

America is changing.

Baking

I made chocolate chip cookies yesterday. Whenever I make cookies, I whip up a full batch, drop the dough by spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet, then chill them in the fridge. After, I portion them into bags. I can keep the drops of dough in the freezer for a couple of weeks.

Steve and I would make ourselves sick trying to burn through this batch before it goes bad, so I'm going to bake them next week, and send him to work with them. I know what a load of disgusting pigs the employees at Siemens are, so these cookies won't last 10 minutes.

I baked the cookies for Steve. He'd been in California for a few days, and with business travel being horribly exhausting, I thought it would be fun to have a bag of these waiting for him when I picked him up at the airport. A little taste of home. Although, since I don't often bake, I guess it would be a taste of someone else's home. In fact, it has been so long since I've baked; I can't even remember the last time. 

Whenever I bake, I like to listen to Christmas music. I don't know why, probably because when I was growing up, the only time we did much baking was at Christmas. What do I know? Anyway, I'm not a "Christmasy" person, but I L-O-V-E Christmas music. Seriously, I love to listen to Christmas music whether it is a child's choir, sophisticated adult choir, symphony, professional performer, I don't care. My only caveat is that I don't like the Rudolph, Frosty the Snowman, kiddie type songs. The exception is the Chipmunk Song. At any rate, I don't hate kiddie Christmas songs, I just don't like them. I like Ave Maria, Away in the Manger, that sort of thing. 

Last night was the annual Halloween in the Drive at my neighbor's house. She sets up a buffet in front of her garage door, then invites neighbors to bring a chair to sit in, and their bowls of candy. Instead of knocking on our doors, the kids walk around the circle of drunk adults to load their goodies.

We didn't go for a couple of reasons. The first is that Steve was coming home from travel and we weren't home for the first two hours. We could have walked across the street once we were home, but we're no longer speaking to our next door neighbor. She's a bitch, and it wasn't worth it.

Last February, when she returned home from vacation, she came over to my house huffing and puffing that SOMEONE had adjusted the flood lights in the rear of her home. While she phrased this, "Did you and Kathryn get tired of our flood lights shining into your bedroom window and move them?" as a question, it was without a doubt, an accusation.

Naturally we answered that we hadn't. Because we hadn't. But, her charge against us stung. I didn't know that she had such a low opinion of us. I didn't know why she had such a low opinion. I'd always liked her well enough and wondered if I'd done something. It wasn't long before I came to understand that she is kind of a crappy person.

I was disappointed to realize that she'd always known that her lights shone directly through our bedroom window, and that the lights were very likely a nuisance to us. That was extremely disappointing. The lights were and still are annoying (especially when they forget to turn them off at night), but not enough for us ever to have said anything or done anything about it.

Actually, at the end of last year, I finally persuaded Steve to let me order blinds for the window. He'd always liked how light and open the room felt with the window naked, but agreed to the blinds anyway. I ordered them in January, and coincidentally, they arrived the week after Ann returned home from vacation. To Ann, the blinds were some sort of smoking gun, so there was no convincing her that we hadn't messed with her stupid lights.

The lights thing wasn't really that big of a deal to Steve and me. It stuck in my craw a little, but not long. I later learned that it was a BIG deal to Ann (the effing nerve).

The next bitchy thing was Ann and her husband's reaction to their rat problem. 

They had a bush that was growing wild over and through mine and Steve's fence. Two years ago, when Ann asked if we minded if she planted something against my fence (in her own yard, of course), I had no idea that she was going to neglect it. Lesson learned. 

This bush and their home became infested with rats. Her husband cussed Steve out, and blamed us for their rat problem. Nevermind that when they finally did prune that bush, they left the rat nest intact because they mistook it for a bird nest, nevermind that Steve and I didn't have rats, nevermind about a thousand other details. In the minds of Ann and her husband, their problem was ALL OUR FAULT. 

Historically, Ann and her husband have blamed Steve and me for everything that goes wrong with their house. If they found weeds in their yard, they blamed Steve and me, claiming that the weeds creeped over from our yard. The absence of weeds in our yard did nothing to influence their opinion. The Jackson Pollock style bird poop treatment on their chimney is our fault because we put out bird feeders; the feeders they put out are immaterial. The neighborhood cats pee in her flower beds, and it's our fault because we feed the neighborhood cats. Actually, I guess that one is our fault. The point is, nothing bad happens to them that isn't our fault. It is tedious. 

I read this and wonder why I tolerated their ugly behavior for so long? I suppose that I didn't really care because I thought that they were idiots, but I didn't think they were mean. They are my neighbors, and it is better to get along. We weren't friends, just friendly, and I was okay with that.

Back to the rat problem...

The decided to solve their rat problem by throwing handfuls of highly toxic rat poison in the bush, around their yard, and in their eaves. When Steve answered that we hadn't seen any dead rats in our yard, Mike (Ann's husband) accused Steve of lying and then cussed him out. The next morning, when we put Turner out to the bathroom, we found our yard littered with dead rats and rat poison. It was obvious that the rats had been put in our yard, because rats don't die in the middle of a yard; they go to dark, cool places.

The last straw was when Turner ingested some of the poison that they'd thrown into our yard. We didn't know what was going on, and we got the poison away from him as quickly as possible. He got sick, didn't die. But now, he has a liver problem.

Steve talked to Ann & Mike, told them how irresponsible the poison was, and how if they ever trespassed again, he would call the authorities. They claimed that they'd warned us about the poison (LIE), and that they didn't know what we were talking about regarding the trespassing accusation. I am assuming that in their mind, putting dead rats in my yard is the same as me adjusting their flood light - only I never moved their flood light.

In the telling, I have dialed the hostility from them back about 100 notches. 

They suck.