Ohhh my sweet, yummy things, this has been a very loooong and hectic work week for Moi. I won’t go into what happened at work, none the less it was a “putting out fires” type of week, and I hoped that the mid-week news would act better than a fire hose.
It seems that Mr. Obama’s talk to congress on the stimulus program has worked a little magic in calming some people, but I am glad that I had recommended my clients to look to long term, and they are holding fairly well. And yes my sweet, yummy things, I am doing just fine as well, even though some of my investments have decreased in income, I’ve always stayed well within my means, so I am not hurting.
But frankly sweet things, I felt that Mr. Obama’s speech was all talk to make people feel good. The fact that he had stated about new regulations seems to give some people hope to prevent, the wild spending as seen on the news by certain corporate peoples. It was his way of putting out or at least damping some fires. (a cat-like snort)
But I read somewhere by someone “Credit does not drive the economy, it’s the economy that drives credit” and that makes a great deal of sense, for if the economic situation is good, then credit will be extended, but there is always the flip side. Some of my friends are thinking that maybe going back to the gold standard instead of the credit or fiat standard would be a good thing, put everything in real perspective, it might be good, but there is a very real economic danger to that.
There is another “Diva” who talked about this in one of her postings, now sweet things if you think I’m ‘windy’ you should see her blog. On and on and on, but I do enjoy it.
If I can find her web log I’ll post the link for you to read. I am concerned though she hasn’t posted for a while. She does admit to being older, I just hope she’s alright.
No, what is happening now is that people are holding on to their wallets, and watching their spending, which is something which should have been done ages and ages ago.
I was taught (which is one of the few good things that happened in my childhood) to make do, carefully consider your purchases, and apply the rule of 10 to it----Ooohhh now what is the rule of 10? You say. It is a rule that is very good to apply, if you’re angry, walk away and take 10 minutes to calm down and think things calmly; wait for at least 10 hours before replying or responding, by that time you may have more information. If it’s something that you desire, walk away to take 10 minutes to think, will it be useful/in style, etc., in 10 weeks, 10 months, 10 years? I find that it always works.
I’m not sure if this has appeared in your areas on the news but it seems that certain businesses are finding their businesses increasing not slowing, auto mechanics, seamstresses/tailors, shoe repair, bicycle repair, they may not be building homes but if you are a good contractor/carpenter you will get work, because houses need repairs, even the farmers markets, yard sales, give away exchanges, bartering---all these things are not necessarily recession proof, more like recession-resistant.
I have always use of repair people, make a pair of shoes last longer, your car keeps going, fixing the refrigerator, repairing the washing machine, it’s cheaper in the long run, until it just can’t go any further.
Now more people are thinking very, very carefully, and I even encourage it, it does save having to be a “Fireman”.
And speaking of fires, in our City by the Bay, there is someone who has an “I-Hate-Porta-Potties” vendetta against the said items. So far this fire-bug has rendered down into mis-shapened globs of industrial plastic 27 of these blue or green portable necessities of dubious ‘odor’ but of needed use.
Of course the big joke is “why porta-potties”? Does someone feel that they are a blot on the scenic landscape of this fair city? Or is it someone with an abnormal fetish and instead of burning buildings (and endangering life) has chosen these plastic necessities as their abnormal target thereby achieving a ‘thrill’ without harm to life and limb. (Growl claws out)
The problem is that some of them were close to buildings and if it hadn’t been for some alert people it could have escalated into something worse. (Snarl)
Now contractors have to be creative and hide the “necessity” as well as placing it where it will not endanger other buildings. But part of the problem is that there maybe a ‘copy-cat’ porta-pottie arsonist, or as my police friend Joe would say “Double Groan”. (Poor sweet thing)
To add a bit of icing to the “insanity cake” one of our legislators wants California to legalize selling “pot” and tax the heck out of it. Could make a billion dollars a year---Hmmmmm---there is good and there is very bad in this idea. (Mewrol?)
I’ve had a few of my sweet “secret” followers ask me “What ever happened to those bones found in Alameda?”
Well darlings, it seems that the bones were of a child but---and here is where I’m sure Fram would appreciate this---but the bones were more than 800 years old. Yes sweet things, the little child was an ancient Native American of the Olone tribe of California.
It seems that there was a burial mound some several hundred feet over from where the little one’s body was found, but he or she (too young to tell) was for some reason not buried in the mound. Some of the forensic archeologists believe that a new mound was going to be started but instead the location was placed in a different area. There was no way to tell how the little one died, it could have been an illness, and there was no trauma to the body.
So the little one’s body (bones really) have been given to the closest living relations of the tribe for proper re-burial. But some of the people living right were the body was found put a little memorial with flowers and burned candles for the little one’s spirit. I think that was very touching.(Meruw)
I stayed last night in the City, again at the wooonderful St. Francis Hotel, they are getting to know me quiet well there, and they treated me very well. (Purr)
And the reason for me staying? Well sweet things, it seems that several hundred protesters were protesting Oscar Grant’s death on the day of his birthday, at several BART stations, of course the news people say it was a “peaceful” demonstration, but what the news doesn’t tell you is that it disrupted service on and off during the evening and night and that there were several shootings as well at BART stations that didn’t have the demonstrations---Hmmmm why do I feel that it was planned----take most of the police man-power away and have them focus at certain stations making it difficult to respond to emergencies at the other stations.
And why about Oscar Grant? (Snarl) The person was at the beginning of his criminal career, but oh no, they talk about him as if he was a ‘saint’---Sorry Sweet Things, he wasn’t, no matter how they try to re-write his biography, he was in and out of prison 5 times by the time he was 20, AND he just got out less than 3 months before. (SNARL)
But they are putting him up for sainthood just like they’ve put Obama’s picture on a glass candle that usually depicts Martin De Pours, as if Obama has come down off the mountain with the 10 commandments. (The priest from the local Catholic Church is not exactly happy about that)
And when I watch the news if it’s about something from the White House they have this image of the American Flag behind an image of him looking so determined with the words “The Obama Presidency”
They never did that with Bush, Clinton, Bush Sr., Ford, Carter, Regan et al. But they are doing it with Obama—is it because he’s, dare I say it, ‘Black’?---that is why I am so disgusted with Television news reporting, biased, biased, biased! (Roar)
For the last few days we’ve been having lovely sunny weather, I’ve been enjoying my neighbors cherry and plum trees blooming, the little sparrows going quickly over them looking for something to eat, and even better, I’ve see a dozen bees, pollinating the flowers, there has been fear that the honey bee population is collapsing which could seriously affect our ability to produce crops, but seeing these little creatures doing what they are doing makes me feel happy and gives a sense of hope. I know sweet things, that is a strange thing to say, but even the smallest of creatures affects our lives.
Tomorrow I’m going to the gun show at the Cow Palace, I was planning to go today, but because of the protests, that changed things as well as getting called back this morning for an emergency (work, work, work—Growl I need a serious vacation!).
I enjoy going to gun shows, I never know what I will come across or who I will meet, but I am going to see if there is a difference in demographics in the attendees at the Cow Palace. I am curious.
Fram has put to me a question about what is adventure in my life but according to his definition, I cannot give a ready answer because I really need to review things that I’ve done, and why I did them.
I know, it sounds silly, but I’ve found that within an adventure there are challenges, and within a challenge there is adventure.
For example, some years ago when I first visited Santa Cruz I saw people surfing, I’d never learned to swim, never saw the Ocean until I was an adult, sad in a way, but I wanted to ride those waves. Now in comparison to many other places those waves would seem tame, but for me I had to do it, I had to see what it was like.
First things first, I had to learn to swim; I found that I loved swimming, the feel of gliding through the water, in an element other than air, was just wonderful almost silken. Next was getting use to swimming in the Ocean, totally different, it was an alive element that has it’s own rules, I learned to “body surf” just catching it right and riding it in but staying on top of it, oh it left me exhausted but feeling so alive.
Then learning how to surf on the board, getting the feel of balancing on something, I can’t tell you how many times I fell off just trying to pop up at the right time floating on the water, but I learned, it was a good thing I had it leashed. And I used a wet suit, I didn’t want to get a sand rash, and at times I couldn’t be sure about the temperature of the water. Again exhausting but fun, I would catch baby waves just for practice, my friend who taught me thought it would be good, then I was finally able to read the waves and catching and riding the really good waves, everything totally attuned to the feel of the wave under me, I felt like I was riding a horse, it’s foaming mane arching before me, trying to buck me off, riding that first really good wave successfully I couldn’t stop smiling.
Of course to the ‘old timers’ , well some of them could understand my feelings, but there were some who acted like “a nice goin’ kid” but to them you are a kid, nothing like Freddie Aikau, Rell Sunn, Fred Van Dyke or Greg Noll. I didn’t care it was just exhilarating just doing it.
Those that can do, those that can’t become critics, my friend would always say.
I did it for almost three years and got pretty good at it (Meuw). And then one day I caught a wave that changed everything. It looked like a really good wave and my friend had just paddled back from an earlier one, I was just floating catching my breath and I wanted to catch one really great wave before finishing the day and there it was, so my friend said “Go for it” and I did, but it was different.
You’ve heard of rogue waves, well what they don’t tell you is that they can come in all sizes, I caught it but I was so focused on riding it that I didn’t see that a number of other surfers quickly shook it off, I was riding it having the ride of my life, all right it wasn’t Waimea Bay but it was the wave for me and I was riding it “home”; then it “bucked me off”, I found myself fighting to get out of the wet powerful massive hand that was threaten to pull me under forever, my lungs fighting for air, me fighting the fear that I might drown and then a pain that drove that fear out of me, I don’t really remember what happened next except I had the strange sensation that the wave was gently carrying me to shore, and gently depositing me on the sand.
When I finally woke up and had an idea of where I was, I realized I was in a hospital bed, my left leg broken in two places, the tendons around my left knee damaged, and a couple of broken ribs and a concussion, it seems my board hit my head and knocked me out, my friend saw I was in trouble and quickly followed me in, he was afraid I had drowned until he saw the wave putting me on the shore. He’d never seen a wave like that, the others had quit it but I was riding it, came close too.
My board was finished and I was laid up for a while, I went back to work as soon as I could but on crutches, my co-workers made arrangements to transport me, the leg and ribs healed, but the tendons around my knee was never the same, but I was glad that a lung wasn’t punctured.
A year later, I tried to surf again borrowing a used board from my friend, I could paddle, and I could pop up but the strain on my legs and that knee was too much, it swelled up again and I was limping, but I managed to catch one good wave and ride it home.
I looked at the Ocean and said “O.K. at least you brought me home”, my friend said that some of the local surfers who are really good didn’t want that wave that I caught and rode until I wiped out, I discovered how alive the sea could be and how unforgiving, but on that day it was kind to me, it had given me a gift and I gave it a lot of respect.
My doctor told me that surfing, skiing, ice skating was not good for that knee, even running, but I never gave up swimming, hiking, bicycling or even ball room dancing, I enjoy swing, the waltz, but there is something so passionate about the tango, not too many men can do a good tango, but I’ve encountered a few that could do it reasonably well, and strangely enough always older men.
So if adventure is doing something that has a certain amount of risk and feeling exhilarated at its completion, then I’ve done it to a certain extent. I’ve done whitewater rafting as well with friends and a few very good guides, watching the next boulders and heavy waters coming up, paddling like mad to prevent crashing, bumping and bouncing, and getting very wet, then gliding along the quiet stretches seeing the scenery and even wild life, then camping along the shore, taking just a few steps away from the fire to see the night sky, people in the city really don’t know how full the night sky is with stars, just lying there in your sleeping bag and feeling the immensity of the Universe, and you wonder just really how important are you? Here under the night sky, someone is showing to you a magnificent greatness, larger than one can possibly imagine and you feel your heart slowing and almost stopping in wonder, that you want to be a part of it.
Then the tiredness from all that paddling begins to overtake you, and you find yourself being lulled by something so heavenly, that you don’t realize you are
falling asleep to the night sounds, then waking up to the smell of coffee boiling over a camp fire in the morning, and hearing the sound of “Skreeeee” high up from the eagles that claim the sky as their dominion.
Other times and other places you hear Coyotes barking and baying at the moon in the desert in the late spring, taking shelter as thunder and lighting make their demands, and watching from a safe place seeing lighting ‘skipping’ on the water of a lake, walking along a trail and coming upon a rattlesnake and waiting very carefully for him to be long gone, every turn of the trail, every bend of the river every curve of the wave was and is an adventure.
But within that adventure is a challenge, the question is meeting that challenge with an understanding of the elements and knowing that you are just a little thing in Nature’s grasp.
So for me Adventure and Challenge are intertwined. And they can come in all sizes, all situations, I really don’t feel the need to climb Half Dome or El Capitan at Yosemite, but there are hiking trails that make demands on you and the reward at the end is wonderful. And yes I have paddled a canoe along the Russian River with a friend and enjoyed seeing the river life, herons, egrets, ducks, snapping turtles, sometimes the water is murky if it’s churned too much but I’ve seen it so clear to see fish swimming near the canoe, unafraid as if they know we do not carry fishing poles, but a picnic basket.
I’ve wanted to learn how to shot a gun, so I learned and took classes, I find it gives a certain satisfaction firing it and being accurate. I’ve also taken classes in self defense street fighting; forget the karate and judo, if you are going to fight, fight dirty. I’ve only had to use those skills only once, and I’m glad to say ‘he’ got the worst of it and gave up trying to steal my purse.
But for the past few years my adventures and challenges has been in the canyons and hills of San Francisco, work makes that many demands, my swimming has been in a pool, during the winter indoor. My exercise has been at the gym, the self defense classes or the rifle range, with some dance classes to keep my skills up. But recently one of my co-workers had asked for a few extra days off, seems he and his wife had to go to a Cowboy re-enactment and competition shooting. I asked him about it and he told me about SASS, the Single Action Shooting Society, or Cowboy Action competition shooting. I have their web site posted as a link, I’ve been to several of their competitions, I find it very interesting, taking my desire of shooting to a different level. (Purr)
Hmmmmm maybe I can dress like Jane Russell in that movie “Son of Paleface”, I think I’ll sleep on it. Who knows?
There are times when I think of that other Frost poem~~~
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
Sleep well my sweet, yummy things, sleep well.
Saint Paul .... where the Jazz Age began - *This is more on the order of an announcement than a post ….* * Although F. Scott Fitzgerald is not among my "favorite" writers, as a student of literatu...
1 week ago