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Are We Getting Louder?

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Or: Are We Just Getting More Hearing-Impaired?
Or: Are We Just Creating More Regrets by Ignoring Each Other for Ourselves?

Every time I venture out of my sanctuary world of words and gardens for errands, grocery shopping, the gym, and especially the innumerable Doctor’s appointments, I notice that the world is a little louder than it used to be. Usually, at appointments, I try to sit in a corner away from people so I don’t have to hear the loud phone conversations (crazy discussions that should be done out of earshot of others – can you dig it?),  incessant conversations about religion, about their children or grandchildren, or something even less appealing, such as sniffling (grab a tissue already!), clearing of throats, and other general bodily noises. But alas, as doctor’s offices get busier, there are more people with appointments at the same time as me and I must endure. Usually, I bring my headphones and listen to music, read on my phone, or just put them on to avoid weird conversations. But, alas, I forgot them the other day and it was a nightmare of noise. And no matter what time I get there, I always have to wait at least 15-20 minutes.

And what’s up with people answering questions about things you didn’t even ask about when you walk by them? So annoying. I have to stop mumbling out loud! And then they get mad at you when you talk back to them. So very strange. Ahh, the aging process…. We get unwanted advice about everything, even when we don’t need it and it is delivered in an even louder voice because they think you can’t hear! And has personal space disappeared in this crowded world we live in? I am simply asking  you to just back up a little bit when you are making a point, okay?

Okay so now that I am done with my old lady rant, I’ll move on. Let’s talk a little bit about regrets:
There are times when I want to tune out the world and not go outside. And yet, I continue to venture out unless I become that recluse that I’ve loathed and mocked in the past. There are many roads I’ve not taken. I regret some of the decisions, but I am where I should be for now in hopes of taking new paths every year that I live. There are many times when I wished that I’d act differently to someone, and I would probably apologize to those who I have hurt in the past if given the chance. But with every choice I have made, the positives still outweigh the bad. It is a powerful feeling to recognize this.

Unless we have a time machine, we can’t really change our past. It’s how we cope with the choices we’ve made that makes us who we are. It’s how we overcome our past behavior to become comfortable in our own skin and create a better world. So set your goals and you can control a little of your future. Resist and redirect your obsessive thoughts into something new and innovative.

So the best thing we can do for each other is to quiet down a little and learn to listen and feel what others are feeling around us. (Trust me that is a hard thing to do!) Make time to discuss what you want to discuss with your friends outside of public places such as the doctor’s waiting room! There is plenty of room outside in the sunshine (or shade on hot days) to rant, vent or just be loud to each other. Respect the people around you then go home to your sanctuary and create more fun food with your ever-present zucchini!

Chicken Salad and Zucchini Fritters!

My heart goes out to all of you tonight and hope you are not in those flooding areas east of us!

Boundaries of the Self

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On this eve eve of our country’s birth, I am pondering where we are. I am pondering the terms of what our sense of self has become. Have our representatives lost their minds or are they just becoming what they always were, mindless drones to an oligarch who doesn’t care about representing all of the people all of the time? Are they so isolated to the realities of the world because they never explored beyond their sheltered life of luxury? Or do they simply not care anymore now that they’ve gotten their more than fair share of the wealth. Have their lives been so protected that they haven’t seen the suffering they are now causing to others who didn’t grow up in the world of prestige and protection? Where has their dignity and justice gone? Why is money more important than the lives of those less fortunate?

I grew up with poverty always knocking at our door. We didn’t want to admit that, but we struggled as kids. And yet, my family always did the right thing and gave as much as we could to others who were less fortunate than us. We didn’t think of ourselves as poor people. What little we had we shared with others in our same situation and they did the same. We didn’t have luxuries and it was uncomfortable to be around those who had more even though we all tried to fit in, especially when they were mean and horrible to those less fortunate. Our sense of self grew as a result of this idea that we could do better if we all worked together, both rich and poor alike. Our parents taught us to do better and go beyond our humble means. They taught us to reach out and become ambitious doers, people of action, but not necessarily craving to be noticed. But if we were noticed, make sure it was for actions that led to saving the planet, saving a community, saving the people, and saving our relationships with each other.

David Gessner asked of us: “Do any of us ever get beyond the boundaries of the selves we start with? Can we really make ourselves into more than we are? Or do we always bump against the borders of self and snap back to the default settings that we were programmed for in the first place?” [Gessner, David. All The Wild That Remains: Edward Abbey, Wallace Stegner, and the American West (p. 157). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.]

Gessner also quoted Wallace Stegner about this subject: “In Crossing to Safety, the Stegnerian narrator writes that ‘When I hear the contemporary disparagement of ambition and the work ethic, I bristle.’ But: ‘Unconsidered, merely indulged, ambition becomes a vice; it can turn a man into a machine that knows nothing but how to run. Considered, it can be something else—pathway to the stars, maybe.’ Ambition can lead to the stars, or at least to that greater broadening, to magnanimity, to largeness. But it still has its more primitive roots in the craving to be noticed, to be known, to have one’s name recognized.” [Gessner, David. All The Wild That Remains: Edward Abbey, Wallace Stegner, and the American West (p. 147). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.]

Finally, Gessner stated about this subject: “Neither Stegner nor Abbey were immune from the hunger for renown. Both wanted their work to be remembered. They would not, it seems to me, have frowned at the notion of my writing this book so many years after their deaths. It is oblivion, of course, that we make our names against. Nothingness that spurs us to be something. And what is worse than being ignored? To a proud person, it is as if our existence is not acknowledged. We are nobody.” [Gessner, David. All The Wild That Remains: Edward Abbey, Wallace Stegner, and the American West (p. 152). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.]

So as we go into the 250th birthday of our country, let’s agree to do something good during this time of injustice. Let’s agree to get out of our comfortable existence and write people who may have more money than us and can fight these old cronies to make a difference. Let’s agree to donate to good causes and continue to fight the good fight against those who simply don’t care. Let’s bump, and even break out of our barriers of the self, and create something beautiful before we die. This weekend, I am giving to the Emergency Family Assistance Association (EFAA) out of Boulder, Colorado. They are working tirelessly to have local support for nutritious food for families in need. With cutbacks to Medicaid and SNAP, our support helps them make their goals. And The Leffingwell Foundation is matching any amount of your donations to EFAA, up to $100,00.00. How awesome is that? https://www.efaa.org/donate/funds/

Give what you can and help out the folks in our community.

And don’t forget to give to your local PBS and NPR! I just signed up for Rocky Mountain PBS passport and am loving the programs on their app! $60 a year gets great entertainment and you don’t have to pay those bigger companies! I am turning into more of a geek than I am now with learning about the past. I am loving the period detective shows!

So give whatever you can, and love the ones who are around you. I love you all and celebrate the good things about our country this weekend, continue to fight against those strange black clad secret police, and attempt to shut out the violence for a little longer by caring for everyone.

Generational Workplaces

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Workplaces today, have a multitude of age groups, from Boomers to Gen Alpha. Managers and coworkers must figure out how they handle the different generations and create reasonable expectations. Everyone contributes equally if they are treated with respect. Managers have to understand that every generation is different in how they approach work. They don’t always fit into a preconceived box that the past rulers deemed appropriate. Older thought processes of management must be displaced with new and innovative ideas to create viable work situations.

It seems to be a hard process for government job managers to understand this transition. Just because “It’s always been done that way,” doesn’t mean that the process can’t change. Obviously, most of these jobs are limited with their software, sometimes being older than the private sector technology. These workers have to learn systems that they have never worked with before so there is always a time lag for learning.

Managers also have to understand that most government positions pay less than the average private sector job in the real world. People come to these jobs to learn new skills and have different perspectives on how to respond to public demands. It is up to a manager to give guidance on how to conduct themselves as representatives of that governmental entity. Their peers need to educate them in a code of conduct, but not preach their views. Us old folks grew up in a different time where dress codes were different. We taught our children that they should be comfortable in their skins and express themselves. So sometimes, the younger people are more sensitive to criticism. I always think that a manager should just count to five before speaking. They should also try not to put a younger person in a box that will never fit them.

Many years ago, I remember traveling to Long Beach, California to work with the police. The D.C folks arrived in dark suits and ties. We westerners arrived in suits, bolo ties and dress shoes (men), suit coats and skirts, or shirt dresses, scarves, and heels (women) to greet them at their building at exactly 8:00 a.m. The Long Beach folks arrived around 9:00 am, in shorts or jeans, and Hawaiian shirts. They had long hair, beards, and huarache sandals. It took us a minute to get used to their way of life, but in the end, we relaxed a little and got the work done. And maybe a few of us took the suits off at last when we got home (me), preferring black jeans and button-down shirts (and black tennis shoes instead of heels) as our newly invented selves.

All I am saying is we can all work together if we don’t worry about clothing styles or 8 to 5 schedules. If managers just value the work, it doesn’t matter how we work or dress (within reason). If the jobs get done in a timely manner, it’s okay to have different lifestyles or schedules. Young workers have been raised differently, and are not a slave to their work. We hope parents raised them to be responsible, and do their due diligence, when they take on a job. And we hope as parents that the younger ones entering the market are embracing adulthood. Managers can benefit from figuring out a welcoming work environment where everyone can thrive. Everyone brings something to the table, past experiences, and new experiences and the old can learn from the young and vice versa. We can be a force of nature and do amazing things if a system is created for harmony, not discord. So, let’s just all try to get along!

I am learning something new everyday and send my love out to all of you each night!

Going Back to Work

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Today I was offered a job to go back to work part-time. Three days a week and they work around my schedule and pay me well. Not bad. So, since my brain has been in overload, I decided to do it for the next few months. It’s nice to get a call from the HR people who know me. I can fill in until they get a new person. And I’ve worked in all of their computer systems, and I know how to deal with telephone calls and people, so I should still be able to do it. Sometimes you just have to get out of your daily routine comfort and take the plunge. We can save the money for expenses that are coming up and maybe even go out and have a nice dinner once in a while. I love my little city and the people in it. Thank you all for allowing me to continue doing what I do best.

Remember that being a senior doesn’t mean you have to just sit and quit. You can stay active and learn new things every day. Learn from the young people working around you, bake them cookies, and knit them scarves!

And if you hurt a little more, try and take a little break in between assignments so you can take a walk. Our downtown is wonderful, and walking to the park and back is both good for the head and the body.

Listen to some good music like Tom Jones, The Animals, Buffalo Springfield, The Foundations, Four Tops, and even 3 Doors Down.

Sing oldies but goodies, with your wonderful choir, to the ones in Memory Care.

Tomorrow will be another day in towards our future. We have to release the negative for a little while and do what we can when we can. And if we get a little money for it, that’s okay, too! Save a little, pass on what you can to help others, and smile. So, For Once in My Life, Build Me Up Buttercup, and Help [Your]self, Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch!

I love you all tonight and hope we can all just breathe it out.

We’re Not Worthy!

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Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar once said, “We’re Not Worthy!” to Alice Cooper, their all-time heavy metal rock star idol, in their movie, Wayne’s World. Mike Myers and Dana Carvey played this Saturday Night Live couple. Their skit was about their basement-living days and their talk show and their special reverence for all the iconic musicians. These musicians also rocked my world back in the day.

Music has kept me sane all these years. When I hear a song that takes me back to my teen years, I pause a little bit and bring it all in. For example, last night I heard Linda Ronstadt’s Blue Bayou on Origins series about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. This show was about his prior NIS days before his NCIS career. It took me way back, to traveling out here in my little Toyota through the Louisiana night. My body shook recalling those vivid memories.

Those ballads as well as those heavy metal base beats reverberate through me every time that I hear them play on the radio. I don’t get the same sense of place when I hear the newer music. I have not been to the places, both mentally and physically, that people younger than me have been to. And since music moves a person mentally and physically, and your perspective as an older person is different, you must actively choose to understand the space where a younger person is right now. So, I don’t discount the current music, I just must learn to appreciate it differently. No matter what style of music, I am trying to embrace the new sounds to understand the angst and soul of the new generation.

Your body will always move to the sounds you grew up with and memories will flood back to the times and places you have been. I never lived in my parents’ basement like Wayne and Garth (because for one thing we didn’t have a basement; Hey! it was Georgia) because that wasn’t what my generation did. We had fewer choices on how to live – get married or go out and do something with ourselves out in the world…. Believe me, I broke the norm, but many of us just wanted to get away from out past and try to make the world a better place.

Parents were less understanding about you wanting to live at home back in those days. It was okay if you were an unmarried woman, but a young man was considered a deadbeat. Sad, but true. Although so many of us women couldn’t wait to get away from our mother’s choking embrace, we didn’t have as many options as men. Our parents thought they were protecting us, but so many of us felt stifled. Today, children are allowed to stay at home after college until they get on their feet. I am a fan of this understanding but only to a point. As I tell my kiddo, “Honey, I love you, but I don’t want a 30-year-old living in the basement! So, finish college and get on with your life!”

There are many things that have changed today, and you can’t just live in a tent across the country like I did in the old days. I wasn’t considered part of the homeless population and made to “move along.” Money will always be an issue, but our children must eventually figure it out and live within their means. Even if it means having lots of roommates to share the costs. They can follow in Wayne and Garth’s footsteps and have their own podcasts, just in their own basements!

So, if you have talent and can follow in those iconic musicians’ footsteps, you are indeed worthy! You will make a mark on the world. It will be a glorious sound, and I will be proud to listen and dance to the beat of your vastly different drum!

Listen to Alice Cooper, Aerosmith, Jim Croce, Linda Ronstadt, Coldplay and Toploader and appreciate all the older genres of music. Learn from the past and incorporate what the future will hold for all of us.

To conclude this unusual posting, I am asking you to move with effort towards the gentle side of yourself and move to joy unfolding. Encourage yourself to be less afraid and open to change. Then take a seat. Be still and listen to others purposefully, completely and engaged.

For a fun remembrance of Wayne’s World, visit the Guardian and read this article:
https://www.theguardian.com/film/2022/aug/17/i-once-would-have-been-embarrassed-by-my-love-for-waynes-world-but-no-longer

Old-Timey Lessons from Grandma and Great Aunt Helen-Once More into the Past

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My mother’s family was a living history lesson for me when I was young. I would listen to Grandma, Great Aunt Helen, and all the various cousins who would show up at Aunt Helen’s little house for lunch conversation and a good old-fashioned quilting bee. She had moved in with my grandma years ago since she was alone and unmarried. So once a month they would walk across the road and return to her old house where the dining room was converted to a quilt room. They placed a big wooden frame and sat around it. The frame had quilt backing and batting already attached to it. The design patterns were intricate, created and drawn on old newspaper. The material came from fabric that they saved from all the homemade clothing they made for their families.

The women would start a round robin conversation of “Remember when…” and I would absorb all their knowledge of the past. The old iron was on the lit wood stove in the kitchen, an ironing board beside it. It was so hot it was like a sauna in there. They would later get an electric iron. My job was to help cut out and iron the patches. When the quilts were completed, they were passed out to the various families who needed one. Grandma and Aunt Helen showed me all the quilts that were stored in a trunk. These quilts had been handed down for hundreds of years. Some were worn, but others were immaculate. Today, I still have one of them. It was my bedspread for a long time, until I stored it in a sealed container.

I also remember watching them make their own medicines, some of them nasty looking concoctions. These elixirs were supposed to help cure all ills, but sometimes I thought these potions were just a way for Methodists and southern Baptists to drink alcohol.

Grandma and Great Aunt Helen boiled their clothes in a big iron pot until they got a washing machine, the crank kind. My mother’s family was the first to have electricity and all the new appliances that ensued. Her Daddy bought them a generator until he had the house rewired, and the appliances were on the screened-in back porch.

Years later, I would shake my head in wonder at the wiring that would be deemed unsafe now. They were strung on the walls that had no insulation. The outlets were filled with plugs, reminding me of the house in the movie A Christmas Story (with the exception that their house was only one floor). However, I knew they didn’t get indoor plumbing (and that is yet another story).

Grandma and Great Aunt Helen also made lye soap in those same iron cauldrons. This is what cleaned all their clothing and bodies as well. They always sang these little songs when they worked. My grandmother fancied herself as somewhat of a healer. She always had woven ropes of dried herbs and added them to soaps and her medicinal concoctions. The aunts would stir that stuff over the fire and sing or recite some type of poetry during this time.

I decided that these songs came from the old ways and were some type of incantations. They cast a spell, and they made the healing potions. They continued their traditions, bringing these songs from the old country. I think my mother would be appalled to know how much these old aunts knew. Years later, after my Great Aunt was gone, my family tore down her house and collected some of the furniture, the old jars and siding for artists and collectors.

While they were digging up those old blue mason jars outside, I scoured the inside and found an old wise woman’s words in a little diary with the word Receipts embossed in gold on the front cover. It contained recipes (receipts) and many transactions from selling their concoctions. I loved the way they wrote – spidery cursive handwriting, the ink fading to a sepia color.

I wish I had been old enough to ask the many questions I have in my brain today, about what they did with all those potions and lotions. I’d like to believe that they were true old-timey healers and helped those in need when times were tough. While I don’t have the gift of creating physical potions, I continue to write soothing and informative pieces in hopes of healing the psyche.

Today, I ask everyone to just be well and at peace. Be kind to each other and have a wonderful rest of the week!

Battling Prejudice: A Unique Fantasy Narrative

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“The more you are marginalized by society, the more society guilts you into doing more. You become fearful of being labeled lazy.” – Jaiya John

“When we see injustices, both great and small, we think, That’s terrible, but we do nothing. We say nothing. We let other people fight their own battles. We remain silent because silence is easier.” – Roxane Gay

Each person is unique in every way and yet we ignore and hate those who are not exactly like us. My books focus on those who are different from anyone else in society, those who are considered marginalized people, not because they are like those who are marginalized in the current real world due to race, gender, religion, or any other earthly prejudice, but because of their mental abilities and magical powers. This unique group is being hunted on earth, and the non-human off-world creatures want to capture them for their own powerful agenda. The off-world folks do not care about anyone else who lives on the planet and will destroy all people who get in their way.

So, I thought I would present you with a teaser chapter from my next book to ponder what the possibilities are that are beyond our everyday prejudices and the world we currently live in today. The final book of the Caitlin Ferguson Mysteries is set fifteen years in the future and goes beyond our earthly worries.

Here is an excerpt from Chapter 35, titled The Storyteller:

We remember what it was like before the rifts. How we were blamed for everything. We remember how we were feared and treated badly, like a disease that needed to be eliminated. Some of us didn’t make it, but the ones that survived made their way to the farm. Katie took us in, and we protected her and her kin. We know what we must do to keep this place safe. We learn so we can fight for her.

I am worried about the state of the world and what it has become. Even though we don’t have any contact with the media blitz about how bad our people are in the world, we feel the hate of those who don’t understand us, even here, in our protected bubble. It is easier to hate an entire marginalized group than fix an existing problem. What normal people don’t know is that they are currently the marginalized people to the off-worlders. The new invading unearthly force wants to wipe out most of the normal human race for the betterment of their race. And they want to capture us to forward their agenda. Kinda funny to face that reality right now, huh?

But the story must be told in case anyone is left on the planet and history repeats itself once again in the aftermath. We will fight and die if necessary to keep the little ones safe. We will fight to get them off-world into a safe space. And we will fight and die to help all the normal people as well, even though they hate us. It is in our nature to protect others at all costs, no matter how much they hate us.