in the words of samuel beckett...

I can't go on. I'll go on. 

It has been a tough four weeks since I have last written any words here. Between work travels, home responsibilities, and pre and post election obsession (must.detach), I have not had any blogging mojo at all. I have had more engagement with Facebook than usual, and I have found that to be connecting, helpful, and simultaneously addictive, frustrating and anxiety-provoking. I get most of my news online, and I can 't seem to stop reading article after article related to the election.

I was one of those people who knew a lot of people in the country wanted change, but never believed that those people would vote for a person who I described in a Facebook post on Wednesday morning, as a "thoroughly unprepared bully who has capitalized on fear, xenophobia, racism, anti-LGBTQ sentiment and misogyny..." While it is some tiny bit of solace that the popular vote went Clinton's way, it is no consolation to many of my friends and students to see emboldened haters who backed Trump and are now acting out in harassing and even violent ways while citing Trump as justification for their behavior. There have been people I have had to "unfollow" on Facebook for their ignorant gloating. I won't unfriend, but I certainly do not want to follow their crap. I am worried and hurt and angry. And I am all the more fired up to engage in expression and petition and participation.

We are in a very tenuous time in this country. Levels of anxiety are running pretty high. Like those in England after Brexit who wanted to send a clear message to those who are afraid of their rights being trampled and their physical and emotional safety being threatened, I will be wearing a safety pin on my clothing to identify symbolically that I am a person of safety. It's all I can do with my white privilege. Meanwhile, as a woman, I am truly frightened of probably 3 Supreme Court appointments in the coming presidency and what that means for our country - girls and boys, men and women alike.

Yesterday, on Veteran's Day, I was reflective of all of those who have fought for the country's ideals. I thought of women in the military, who face great rates of sexual assault and difficulty getting any justice or support after those assaults, and who now have a commander in chief who casually toss around phrases celebrating his ability to grab women by the ____. (I mean, can you believe that? It is bad enough that I have to hear that, but when I think of my mother, my young nieces? All the women and girls? I am incredulous and outraged that the sexism and beyond that, sexual violence many work so hard to reduce is being normalized on a presidential-political level? Unreal.)

I wrote this on Facebook yesterday: "I am gathering that people who voted for Trump did so for many reasons (just as I had many reasons for voting for Clinton)...and many of those voters are probably not bigoted or hateful or anti-woman (53% of white women voted for him...) yet they looked past Trump's outrageous rhetoric during his campaign - and before. Our country can't afford to look past that rhetoric now. For those that wanted economic change as their main rationale, we all need your voices now to let Trump know he needs to speak out strongly against his campaign sentiments that have emboldened haters. The voices can't just be from a "side." We have to be better than that. He can start on Veterans Day to walk back his hurtful remarks to a Muslim Gold Star mother this summer and his criticisms of highly qualified military generals and leaders."

On my campus we have already had some bias related incidents toward black students and women where Trump was cited as some sort of justification. His name is becoming some sort of hate-rallying cry by those celebrating his victory and what it means for their beliefs about others. Meanwhile, my across-the-street neighbors still have their Trump-Pence sign facing out on their lawn. Last election they had a Romney sign and we had an Obama sign. This time, when the Trump sign went up, we declined to engage. They know who we support. We are cordial neighbors. We would help each other out when needed (and have done so), and we thought for sure on Wed. they would be smarting at the loss and we didn't want to be those people to make them feel worse. Nope. I am the one who was crying at 2 a.m. and woke up Wed. with very puffy eyes.

This morning I read a hopeful piece in the New York Times that indicated that Trump is supportive of trans people using whatever bathroom they'd like - even at Trump Tower. Wonder what some of his supporters think of that. Some will be okay with it. Many will not. I am glad it is in writing, because who knows what he may say tomorrow. A man who can't handle his own Twitter account and who exhibits all the indicators of narcissistic personality disorder (according to my read of the Mayo Clinic definitions) is going to have access to our nuclear codes. He has shown himself thus far to be a violence inciting demagogue. I can't imagine he can change that accept in showing the world something different than we have seen for the past however many months - seems like an eternity. I am waiting for him to say something presidential - like he will work hard for all Americans - those who voted for him and those who did not (like Hillary said during one of the debates.) I am not holding my breath. Someone who appears to be a vindictive and abusive person is not likely to change.

So after this rant, and with the hope that democracy can correct things when things go wrong, I will leave you with a GIF in this following linked article that may help you slow down your breathing and calm any anxiety you may have. Breathe in and breathe out. It works.

I hope that my next posts will be back to the music and mundane. I hope to not have a month of just 6 posts again like the month that October was -- although since today is the 12th day of November, we may be hitting a new low. Time will tell. Have a good day. Peace out.

no mas, no mas

Thanks Jessica Hagy - thisisindexed.com

Offended? I think it goes beyond being offended. What fresh new misogyny has Donald Trump unscabbed, scraped open, and left bleeding? In my lifetime I never imagined people in this country would talk about repealing the 19th amendment - including creating a hashtag on the topic. I am surprised this deplorable (yep) and his followers know anything more about the Constitution or its amendments beyond a very limited understanding of the 2nd amendment.

Working in a field that seeks to eliminate gender discrimination and working to respond to and support people who have experienced sexual violence, I am beyond outraged - but sadly not shocked - by Donald Trump's personification of all that is wrong with rape culture. I always liked Barbara Bush, though I didn't agree with much of her party's approach, and she speaks for many when she asks how any woman could vote for Donald Trump. Beyond his thinly veiled racism, Islamophobia, and his atrocious comments on immigration in this country, his misogyny (we can't just stop at calling it sexism) and the support he continues to get from people, including women, in this country has not just shaken Michele Obama to her core. I sit here blinking in disbelief.  [I got called by a reporter this past week to comment on Trump's remarks from the leaked tape. I wasn't able to directly speak to her as my job title is administrative we can't as college officials engage in anything that will be perceived as partisan. SO, I shared the names of some faculty and students who could speak more freely and gave a student the sound bite quote I came up with that I think summed it up well: "we are working hard to reduce sexual violence, not normalize it." Hope that makes it in even if it will be attributed to the student.]

What Donald Trump has brought to the political stage is a direct threat to many - including the many Republicans who do NOT support him and who, despite political differences, are throwing their support behind Hillary Clinton, as the only qualified presidential candidate. Not just because I find Donald Trump to be a despicable human being who is consciously inciting violence against citizens who disagree with him or have identities that he finds unacceptable, but because I think Hillary has the experience, temperament and brains to be President, #imwithher.

As a side note, I have not posted anything political on my Facebook page this fall (though I have "liked" plenty of other people's things so I suppose my friends know exactly where I stand if they are keeping track of that kind of thing.) I try to keep things positive and pleasant whenever possible. I haven't unfriended the few people whose  pro-Trump or anti-Hillary views shock and disappoint me because I want to see and try to understand how others feel and why they might support someone as disgusting and unqualified to be president as Donald Trump. I suspect things like implicit bias, racism, and conditioning to hate Hillary Clinton are behind those emotional impulses. Lots of people throughout history have followed charismatic demagogues and bullies. It's truly frightening because we all know Hitler didn't do it alone. He emerged from a Democratic country. Curious to me is that I can still have fondness for these "Facebook friends" that I may have known and liked in high school or in a former job. If they had a sadness or a joy in their life, I would care. Yet, I shake my head and wonder how I can be friends with these people who would support a man who at a rally asked people to stand up based on their religious affiliation and made a joke that he might let them stay. Seriously? (First they came for the....then they came for the .... then they came for me.) That is completely un-American.

Odd, isn't it? How we can be so different and still, that thread of humanity is stronger. I would hope these friends might feel the same about me - because they "know" me - even if they realized I don't share their same beliefs. But would these folks extend compassion when the witch hunt is on against someone they don't know and see as "other"? All this said, if these folks (actually read: Electoral College voters) somehow vote Trump in, they may as well stab me right in the heart and persecute me as "other" for my beliefs. I wouldn't do that to them. True "Americans" understand that we must tolerate difference and must not infringe upon anyone else's human rights - let alone call for violence.

I am reminded of this great quote by Audre Lorde: "When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak." I hope we can all speak and listen - and that no one's speech (which in the Trump universe will become actions) will threaten the fundamental rights and freedoms of those they oppose.

by the way, I'm still ranting on the cartoon caption contest

Some may know that I continue to enter The New Yorker cartoon caption contest. Not weekly, mind you, but often enough. Am I discouraged by the sexism? Yes. Do I wish I had made my profile name "George Elliott"? You betcha. I have had some close entries in the past, and some have said I have entered even better captions than the three finalists in the past (back when the editors were narrowing down the final three for votes). These days, The New Yorker has changed the way the finalists are chosen. They get more than 5,000 entries per week, so it doesn't surprise me they have gone to crowd-source voting.

The last contest I entered (before vacation) left me perplexed. I voted on about 50 entries (unfunny, somewhat funny, funny) without seeing my own entry before giving up for lack of time. One of the entries below was in the mix. I voted it "somewhat funny," but would have voted my own "funny." My entry, below the first, I would argue is funnier. Worthy of top three? Maybe. Because I was on vacation, I missed the voting on the top three. I don't know what they were and will find out when the winner is announced. Anyway, my disappointment continues. Will I keep trying? Probably. 

POST SCRIPT!! Just learned (Tuesday, August 9th, two days after writing this post,) that the top three captions for this contest included one that was EXACTLY the same as mine, entered by a Susan Robinson, of Willow, NY!!!! What?!? How can it be? My exact entry is in the top three, but someone else's name is underneath it in my printed copy. It is a mystery to me how these are selected. I wish I could have voted for "mine". (The other two were: "There's really nothing to it," and " If you see the cartoonist, have him drop me a line." Both are also very funny.) If you want to see what the winner ends up being, go to: http://contest.newyorker.com/ and the winner should be announced soon. I still can't believe all this happened while I was away for one week. How did I find out? Tom made my lunch today and put the following in my lunch bag as a "note." (It got a bit crunched in the lunch bag.) If I hadn't screen captured my original entry, I might not believe it. Boo hoo. 

POST POST SCRIPT.... (8/19/2016)... MY CAPTION WON! (I mean, Susan Robinson's caption won.) Arghhhhhhh.

ups and downs of spring

It's May 15th. We've had a bit of sunshine since early April, but not a lot. Rather, we have had an abundance of rain and clouds and cold here in Central New York. After a low 70s and sunny Friday, we are having a low 40s day - feels like 35 degrees -- and we can now see snowflakes flying outside.Yes, that's right. I said snowflakes. They won't stick, but really now?

Please enjoy these flowers given to me by my friend Carol last weekend. We had a dinner and "let's watch Kimmy Schmidt" party, which turned into a "let's stream old Strangers with Candy episodes" evening. She knows I love purple tulips and so this is what she does when I say please don't bring anything.

I love how tulips start all straight up pretty, and then they wildly wind out and down, until each beautiful flower nearly hits the table. It's like watching a gradual and complete surrender. It's a yoga pose in slow motion. And they all fall down. Beauty right until the end.

washington, dc beauty and the flu that followed

Sorry for the extended blog absence. I went to a great conference last week Monday through Thursday in Washington, DC. Came home late Thursday night, worked Friday, and came down with the flu on Friday night. This, despite my flu shot in the fall. I am in the 40% for whom the vaccine did not "match up" with the strains. And it has not been fun. I will spare you stories from fever delirium that I experienced for 48 hours. I will spare you that I was weepy because my throat hurt so badly I could have cried every time I had to swallow and it was too painful to sleep. Finally after five days of this I can talk again (kind of). I have turned a corner. Thank God. I started the Tamiflu just under the 48 hours into it they recommend. I am hoping this is helping to shorten the duration. I never want to have the flu again. It is a terrible thing. And now, please enjoy some photos I took on my cell phone. (And yes, I did get to see VP Biden! He addressed our conference for more than an hour. His passion on the topic of ending violence against women is palpable. It was a real treat.)

reap what you sow

Heard someone talking about the fractious Republican party that has produced Donald Trump. "They have reaped what they've sown." And so then that one phrase reminded me of this song. Dogs, which has some of my favorite lyrics ever (Pink Floyd Animals -- in my top three Pink Floyd favorite albums). The more I listened to the lyrics, the more I realized this song fits in thinking about Donald Trump... Dog. I keep waiting for him to implode. I am pretty sure he will. Democracy - we have got to be better than this. 

"You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to

So that when they turn their backs on you

You'll get the chance to put the knife in."

....

"And when you lose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown

And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone

And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around

So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone

Dragged down by the stone."

road tripping

The New Yorker - Bruce Eric Kaplan

I am off on a work trip tomorrow with three other colleagues I don't know all that well. I am the main driver as I am the one that rented the vehicle. The conference we are going to should be very interesting. Even though it is nice to travel with others, seeing this cartoon gave me a pang of missing the days when I traveled a lot for my old job (by myself).[That is a strange pang, because I really don't miss all that travel...] It is a different kind of travel - kind of an adventure - when you can be alone with your thoughts or the music of your choice. It is a bit more tiring to travel with others that you don't know well. I hope I can hold up my end doing the small talk thing. Would it be inappropriate to start out with "WTF is all this support for Donald Trump?! I am scared out of my mind. Who are these people?" and let it fly from there? Heck, it is only a 5 hour trip one way. Down tomorrow, and back late Friday. Ciao.

foiled again

I am trying not to get discouraged, but I have had a few narrow misses with The New Yorker Caption Contest over the past year or so. A couple of times, those closest to me (who are of course biased) felt that my submissions were as good or better than the three finalists chosen. After reading about claims of sexism and stereotypes - subtle and not so subtle - in The New Yorker cartoons, I can't help but notice that women are very infrequently among the finalists and it makes me wonder if the judges look at the names when they make their selections - or if they review name-blind. My name is definitely fem. Time will tell.

Anyway, here you go... my submission above, and the three that made it below (you may have to click on it to enlarge it). I will keep trying and maybe one of these days I will be asking you to please vote for me! This week's cartoon was actually out of the 1950s in terms of men's and women's roles, so I won't be entering at all unless I can think of some way to bite back. 

nexus

one maple tree

with its straight trunk

branches outstretched

flush with greens and reds, haloing round

calls autumn to order

swearing in the hundreds of leaves

some blowing around in the wind

some assembled below

I feel threats of winter come

pressing in to share its chill

onto the surface of my tender face

infiltrating fingers and toes

I list to the left, with gradual freezing

I whimper

to no one

who can hear me

© nan, 2015

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted over at Poets United.]

the world turns

This is a mildly silly and mildly crabby post brought on by a bottle of Edmond Fitzgerald porter out of Cleveland (that invoked the initial silliness) and too much sadness for one week - watching my teen go through his first ever loss of young people his age. Not nice. (That invoked the crabbiness that keeps sneaking back in.)

In  my best inner Steven Wright voice, this is what is going on.

- the gardening got done Sunday and Monday - including yours truly buying and using an electric hedge trimmer for the first time in more than 20 years. (I have always done trimming by hand clipper, and let me tell you, the power trimmer is really fast and powerfully good.) I am happy the flowers are in, the hedges are trimmed, and ta da, we even got the deck furniture scraped and re-painted. Dinner on the deck tonight was delightful.

-I discovered a new favorite dessert in the freezer section of the grocery store. Friendly's brand black raspberry ice cream cones - on a chocolate sugar cone, with a little blob of chocolate at the bottom of the inside of the cone like in a Nutty Buddy. Tres magnifique!

-we had our 26th anniversary this week. It floored me to think I have been married for more than half my life. I guess if I do the math this was technically the case last year too... but I didn't think of it then. So it didn't affect me.

-damn little invasive house sparrows have scared away both the house wrens and tree swallows from our bird houses, and now I have to remove any nests they might build as this was a requirement of my friend who built one of the birdhouses last year. I never thought I would say this about a bird species, but those little sparrows are idiots and I am not happy with them.

-I bought the cats brand new, cool, kitty collars. Orange for Mars and Green for Natalie. They are so handsome!

-I worked the grill at the h.s. concession stand last night for the first time. It was fun. Until cleanup time. (Usually I do the math, take the money and get things like water and popcorn, candy and nachos for people... the easy stuff.)

-I took a Facebook quiz today, after staying off Facebook for several days out of willpower, and learned that I am an "independent woman. " Because, you know, I just didn't know what kind of woman I was.

So there you have it. I am off to read a book. I am reading The Art of Hearing Heartbeats. Great read so far.

leaf off/ the cave

Why can’t you take the leaf off your mouth

Now that you have the facts on your side?

Take a moment to reflect where you’re from

Let reason guide you

See all tracks lead you out from the dark

See all tracks lead you out to the stars

May the light lead you out

May the light lead you out

This chant-like anthem is giving my restless mind and hurting heart some comfort. I am grateful for this beautiful music tonight.

I am sitting here today thinking about marriage equality and praying that the SCOTUS makes the decision my heart tells me is right... a civil right. It pains me to hear hateful sentiments toward LGBTQ folks who deserve the same privilege as their straight human being counterparts to marry.

I am also sitting here and thinking about the unrest in Baltimore, and our President's wise acknowledgement that this is about decades of inequality. Systemic racism? Yes, it's really a thing.

And I am also sitting here thinking about those suffering in Nepal and Pema Chodron's statement: "At this time of such devastating news coming from Nepal, we can take this opportunity to work with compassion, kindness, gentleness and generosity. No doubt our hearts are breaking for those that have to endure the unfathomable suffering that this disaster has imposed upon them. Please join me and many others in doing regular tonglen practice for those that have lost their lives, those that have lost loved ones, those that are injured, those that are having to live in discomfort and fear to survive and also to those that are there to help."

If you enjoyed this beautiful song called "Leaf Off / The Cave," by Swedish indie singer José González, here is one more, just because it is worth your time. This one is called Killing for Love. Thanks wfuv.org.

wait, what?

I haven't blogged in how many days?

So, it's been a little busy. Mostly fun busy, since I am mostly over bronchitis (and thank you, inhaler, for continuing to help me.) After a full work week last week with some travels, we actually went out on a Friday night with good friends for a drink and a snack. We found a new favorite place about 10 minutes away and that did me a lot of good even if it was just for a couple of hours. The weekend included a bridal shower and a family dinner  - both out of town in different directions - around baseball and chores. Here we are at Tuesday after a full Monday with more baseball under our belts. Best of all we saw 70 degree temps and sunshine on the weekend and yesterday (even though we currently have snow... on the ground and in the air ... and temps in the 30s right now.) Matt's away game today is thankfully postponed, and we have an unexpected reprieve in the action for the evening. That is a good thing, because I realized I haven't even looked at bills in about two weeks. Whoops.

Rather than complain about something, I want to show you my latest entry in The New Yorker cartoon contest, below. And then visit this LINK to see the three finalists. You decide. Was I robbed? Again? This is the third time that a similar entry was chosen over one I thought was pretty good. My quest to be published in The New Yorker continues. :-) (And yes, I voted for the entry that was similar to mine.)

Post Script, I am attaching the winning caption below :-)

Nan's entry

And the winner!

it's an isolating lie so many of us tell

"I'm fine." Thanks Jessica Hagy. Good one.

[And meanwhile, I am not really fine. After one month of getting my inspiration off the labels of my Halls Honey Lemon cough drops (they have messages now, don't you know?), taking occasional shots of Robitussin expectorant with a couple of Tylenols, drinking copious amounts of echinacea tea with honey, and taking Airborne every day or so... I finally gave in and decided that this thing I have not been able to get rid of since before I left for Florida... was not getting better. I went to the doctor yesterday and I have bronchitis. Damn. I hate antibiotics and inhalers, but here I am. It started out as a sore throat and cold, and apparently this is what happens when you have to work a lot of hours and rarely rest. Hmmm. I haven't stopped just yet... with minor travel tomorrow and more on Monday, but I sincerely hope the weekend brings some rest. And then... I'll be fine.]

it's not fair

I was just thinking about this Complaints Choir video the other day (from Helsinki, Finland), and then my mom sent it to me tonight via email. I guess I was a little bit down and whiny when I spoke to her by phone earlier this evening. I was conscious of how tired and crabby I was feeling about winter (. . . and everything else) the other night when I thought about this video (I posted it on the blog a few years back). I actually thought that it would make a great winter poetry prompt to have people write a complaints choir "poem." There is something about giving voice to these gentle complaints with some humor and some seriousness that expels them. Sure, "it's not fair!" But then you get over it.

Please enjoy this. There are several complaints choir videos out there, but this is definitely the best among them. Oh, and of course you have to read the subtitles unless you know that very complicated language. (You can enjoy an adorable Finnish children's choir doing a cute song, here, and the Toyko Complaints Choir is most excellent, here.)

I'll spare you some of my draft lines for my complaints choir poem, but trust me, I have thought about a few stanzas worth. Have a good weekend -- however you spend it. I hear there's a football game on Sunday evening, but I will probably end up watching Downton Abbey.

sarah jarosz on a snowy, cold day

It's that time of year. It is snowy and cold. It gets dark so early. The lights of the season borrowed from our pagan ancestors way, way back do their best into tricking us to be cheerful and get us through these dark days until we are on the other side of the solstice. I sometimes fall for it and sometimes I absolutely don't.

Work has been busy, I have a cold, and lots to do, to do, to do. I tend to write in lists when things get like this. I know I am a bit run down from three weeks of traveling, and I am trying not to be resentful that I am now under the weather in time for holiday preparations. Have I always been a fragile flower, ha ha? I am due to go to see my niece dance in The Nutcracker tomorrow. I will not let a cold keep me down, but the weather may keep me grounded. A storm is coming in tomorrow. I am trying to figure out if I can leave early enough for the hour and a half trip to get there safely. It is a fun weekend I have been looking forward to. I guess time will tell, yes?

So this is a great young artist who sings folk, blues, bluegrass, Americana, or whatever you want to call the magic that is Sarah Jarosz. This is a recent Tiny Desk Concert courtesy of NPR Music. The set list includes: Over the Edge, Build Me Up From Bones, and Fuel the Fire. Beautiful stuff. Enjoy.

love has come for you

[Note: Under a label of "the personal is political," the following LONG post is not my typical post in that I explore a controversial subject and share my beliefs and values openly. I tend to shy away from the political on this blog. I stick to music and poetry and my "every day" as a creative outlet. But sometimes, I can't un-entwine art with my life's beliefs, and I couldn't post this song without sharing in more detail why I feel the way I do about it. I imagine I have readers who have different beliefs, and I respect your right to your beliefs. In fact I often read others' beliefs that conflict with mine just to try to understand them better. If you don't want to read further, just watch the video and don't read the post. If you read and choose to comment, I ask for respect in the comments, because this is my safe space. Thanks.]

There is a lot of love in this song. And when I think of performers that I love, Steve Martin and Edie Brickell are on the list (though I had not heard them together until watching this video).  This is Steve and Edie performing, "Love Has Come For You," live at the WFUV studio, this past April. This song hit me not only with its beautiful rhythms, chords, and melody -- but also with its lyrics. It is about a woman who chooses to parent her son despite what society is telling her about the circumstances of her pregnancy. In her case, it is her imperative and right to parent, and it was absolutely the right choice for her. It was the decision that fulfilled her entire life.

After listening to this two times through, I started to wish that every woman could feel peace of mind and fulfillment, and that "love has come for her," regardless of the pregnancy decision she makes for herself. Sadly, there are many denied this peace or sense of well-being, because of the unkindness of others.

I work for a not-for-profit, pro-choice adoption agency. I work with women and couples who have to make difficult pregnancy decisions. One thing I frequently realize is how women are judged and sometimes even maligned for their reproductive decisions in a way that men rarely are. How many times have you heard a woman judged for how many children she is parenting, or a woman vilified for choosing to terminate a pregnancy or to lovingly place her child for adoption because she feels that is the best decision for herself and her child. Society does not comment on what a man should do because of a sexual transgression or how he should be viewed because of his participation in reproductive choice. But women are seen as fair game for stigma when it comes to either parenting too many, or having an abortion, or choosing adoption for a child. It's simply unfair and unkind.

In this song, the woman's pregnancy is the result of an affair (with that man from the bank, who was married with a son), and she is expected to "give her child away . . . to erase what she'd done." (And let me say that I hate the terminology "give up" or "give away" a child . . . it is SO not that, particularly with open adoption.)

As an adoptive parent and adoption professional, I want to spread the word that adoption is a reproductive choice deserving respect. Why does it carry stigma? Any complex question begets a complicated answer, but absolutely, when a woman (or couple) voluntarily makes the decision to place a child with another parent or set of parents to raise, that is a decision that merits compassion and respect, not judgement. What messes up the simplicity is the stigma, which adds guilt or shame, or coercion to make an adoption plan, or the view of adoption as "a punishment for a wrong behavior," both illustrated in this song. In the not-so-distant past, many adoption decisions were made for women, and not necessary by women, and adoptions were all closed . . . creating a shameful history and one that informs the work I now do. We must do better. Love must come for all. And thankfully, the agency I work for has a 30 plus year history of doing things better, and with integrity and compassion.

Even though adoption is not chosen as frequently as parenting or abortion, it is nonetheless a natural phenomenon, and when it unfolds with mutual respect, kindness and openness, it can work well for all, including most importantly, the children. My saying this does not mean I think it should be pushed upon anyone. It absolutely has to be voluntary. But my saying this is also a call for society to not push against a woman who is considering or chooses adoption. Why make her difficult decision more difficult? Why perpetuate adoption  "a consequence for poor choices" as judged by others or why coerce? And why judge a woman after she has placed a child? In fact, adoption is the right choice for many. Done well, a birth mother (birth parents) gets peace of mind and can heal and move forward -- and is a special figure in the life of a child. Adoptive parents are the humble recipients of one of the greatest of life's gifts, a longed-for child to parent.

This song makes me proud to work with the beautiful and strong women with whom I have worked, who, in a sea of negative voices, let their own voice be heard and placed their child because they knew it was the right decision for them and their child. It also makes me proud of the women who know that they want to and are able to parent their children, and it also makes me proud of women who choose to not continue their pregnancy because it is their decision, their body, and they will not let society's view of them as a gendered being with certain obligations, no.matter.what -- be forced into the role of mother if they are not able to take that on. If we care about children, we have to care about mothers -- all kinds. We can't just be pro-birth. We have to be pro-safe, healthy, and ready family. I am known to use the words "anti-choice" rather than "pro-life" to describe the political stance of those who are against a woman's abortion rights. A life is much more than a birth. May all have love come to them.

oh snap!

Well if it is going to act like winter on April 12th, then darn it, I am going to make ginger snap cookie dough to refrigerate overnight and bake cookies tomorrow. Three baseball games this week . . . postponed due to inclement weather. I am beyond spring fever. On the agenda this weekend . . . dinner with friends, quiet bird stalking for the famous timberdoodle ritual at Hoxie Gorge, and hopefully, seeing "42," the new baseball drama about Jackie Robinson. It's going to take a full weekend to chase away these cold, rainy, delayed spring blues.

march doldrums

winter is still here 

-- ennui sets in like dust

on mini-blinds

just two days

after they were cleaned.

there is no blessed blue sky

out my window,

like I deserve,

frankly,

this instant.

the unbalance of emotions

is subtle with few highs

and mostly lows

but no snares, no slaps,

no gasps.

winter is still here

like it was in the first place

not riding in

on elegant Pegasus wings

but ubiquitous as the grey.

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

Note: Written for The Sunday Whirl. The words were: blue, blessed, deserves, first, gasps, instant, slap, snare, dust, unbalance, ride, wings.

in these shoes?

WJPP here on a promising looking Sunday after a few days of unstable weather and our share of rain. Today is supposed to clear off and be sunny with temperatures in the 80s. This DJ is glad I type out my song introductions, because I am on day-four of a bout of laryngitis, and not that it was fun to begin with, but I am really not having fun anymore. I suppose I could try to enjoy the fact that my voice has a vaguely sexy Demi Moore quality, but the fact is, I just don't feel all that good. I am sick of drinking gallons of hot tea and needing extra sleep, and I am really not happy that I had to miss two fun events yesterday. I finally listened to my mother's advice to pull out the vaporizer and tie a bandanna around my neck for some added warmth. Last evening I found a lavender-colored bandana to match my pajamas, and I slept fairly well with the gentle bubbling of the vaporizer in the background.... however I look like some kind of sick cowgirl in purple.

T.M.I. Right. Let me focus. So what song to play? How about a little Kirsty MacColl and In These Shoes? This song is so droll and funny and, well it always puts me in a pretty good mood. If you don't have the album that this song is from, do yourself a favor and get a copy. Tropical Brainstorm is one of my favorite albums. Longtime readers of this blog will know that you can find more Kirsty in the archives here. Have yourself a good day. I will try to do the same.

ennui

en·nui   [ahn-wee, ahn-wee; Fr. ahn-nwee](noun) a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom:  The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.

This cartoon sums it up for me lately. (Thanks to Angela for sharing this via Facebook.) I think this weird winter has gotten to me. Perhaps I just have spring fever. And my cats do too. I cracked a window today so I could hear the lovely birdies out my window while I work from home today, and Mars the cat squeezed himself uncomfortably through the opening to sandwich himself between the glass and the screen.  This, after Natalie the cat was found howling out the closed living room window at 5 a.m. at the possible presence of some critter on the other side of the glass in the dark.

I suppose that is what I have been doing lately too -- glimpsing the fresh air and sunshine on the other side of this wintertime, and trying to find ways to squeeze myself, even if uncomfortably, closer to it -- not quite getting there just yet. The snow from the weekend is melted again, and we seem to be going back, forth, back, forth, with cold and snow and then oddly, early spring weather. We rarely see what we are seeing until April around these parts.


My poetry mojo is in some lost and found. Meanwhile, I am reading a great book called The Dirty Life, by Kristin Kimball (who hails from my home town -- and who went to high school with my brother and has found New York Times Bestseller fame for a good reason!) My interest is also piqued with a new television series (BBC, of course) called Sherlock. It's on Netflix. Highly recommend! [Started watching an old (1986) critically acclaimed series called The Singing Detective, but the first two episodes were very depressing, so I am not sure when I'll get back to it to give it another go. Tom actually purchased the DVD set on recommendation, because the original production is not on Netflix. I can kind of see why. It is brilliant, but as uncomfortable as a third degree burn.]


Matt continues to recoup from his shoulder fracture. It is awfully hard to see your always active child relegated to playing Words With Friends, Hanging With Friends, and Scramble on his iPod Touch. He has three weeks down and three weeks to go in his sling ... no exercise... and he is still sleeping in a recliner in his room. Poor kid. Add adolescence to that situation and you have one iteration of misery.


So, rant, rant, that is all I've got for you today, readers. I am sure WJPP will play you a song soon.