Google+ Dilemma

I've had this blog for quite a while. Sometimes I'm more faithful at blogging; sometimes it lies fallow.  I admire  Google's ability to help people create and interact through (mostly) user friendly applications, and I try to Google up with new technology.  I have an Android phone for instance, and this blog, and--okay here it comes--a Google+ account.

  
Here's my problem.  I can't figure out how to connect them up.  My Google+ account can't see my Blogger account and my phone can't connect with either of them.

  
Help.  I need a tech savvy teenager.  Any volunteers?  Of any age?   

Outing the B in LGBT

Society has just about got it about lesbians and gays: normal people with the same goods and bads as the rest of the human race.  They are just attracted to the same sex rather than the opposite sex.  Most know right from wrong.  Many make good life choices and others get themselves into trouble with poor choices.  Society is recognizing the L and G of LGBT as people deserving of recognition and respect as well as comparable rights and responsibilities. 

Now society is beginning to wrestle with acceptance of transgender people, the T in LGBT.  We are learning that some children are born with the physical attributes of one gender, but the internal sensation of being the opposite gender.  Children are now sometimes recognized as transgender rather than 'gender confused'.  Social workers, psychologists, teachers, clergy and parents are learning how to help such a child navigate childhood as the self-identified gender.  Physical sexual reassignment is now available and is a valid choice for transgender adults.  

But the scary one is the B for bisexual.  We aren't quite there yet, but we need to be getting there.  Actress Gillian Anderson has almost accidentally outed herself as bisexual.  In an AZCentral.com article,  Ms. Anderson explains her comments to Out Magazine about prior relationships with women.  She further makes it clear that she doesn't consider herself gay [sic].

She said: ''I was talking to Out about gays and choice, and the view that you can just choose not to be gay in some way. I decided to talk about it now because someone with whom I was in a relationship a couple of decades ago - a woman - passed away about a year ago.

''I was talking about her and, in the context of the gentle conversation we were having, I thought I would say that I have had a couple of relationships with women, but that wasn't my experience because I did have a choice. I always knew I still liked boys.

''Being gay was never something that I identified with 100 per cent, because I knew that for me it wasn't the only way.''

And this is B for bisexual, the last of the sexual minorities to be dealt with, and possibly the hardest.  

We don't want to acknowledge B because to some extent or another many straights and many gays are on the B spectrum.  Rather than to acknowledge sexual attraction to both men and women, bisexuals tend to pick the end of the spectrum they feel closest to and identify as gay or straight.  There is a sadness about being coerced by society to choose one end or the other, but that's the way it has been for millennia.  Ya gotta be 'normal'.  LGB and T are sexual minorities, but they are not abnormal.

Here's hoping the world can recognize and respect all minorities.  We live in a magnificent creation with boundless diversity.  The more we can open our minds to human diversity, the richer we can grow in spirit.

Warren Buffet and I

Last year I paid no federal income tax.  Let me repeat that.  NO FEDERAL INCOME TAX.  None, nada, zip, zero, no federal income tax.

Should I be complaining?  Probably not; I am quite thankful for the relief.  Yet I continue to benefit from my federal government.  I don't think it should be for free.

Warren Buffett is a vocal one-percenter (hugely rich guy) who believes that he and his fellow top income folks should be willing to cough up more taxes than they are presently contributing.  Some of his fellows agree with him.  Many do not--understandably.

  
So Mr. Buffett and I have this in common.  I felt very strange not paying one cent of income tax.  I felt I should pay at least a token amount, as if doing so would dignify my participation in America.  Some of you will agree; others will not--understandably!

 
Who'd have thought Warren Buffet and I would have something this momentous in common?

Arpaio's Trials

From Doug MacEachern of the Arizona Republic in his 7/28/2012 "Quick Hit":

"No one expects a lot of magnanimity out of a protest group. They gotta do what they gotta do. Sometimes that means annoying innocent bystanders. But does the group planning to protest Sheriff Joe Arpaio on Sunday at his church services really need to? Short answer: No. Morally speaking, the right to worship undisturbed trumps any self-assigned duty to preen before cameras."

Here is my Quick Hit back to Mr. MacEachern:

I am remembering a Sunday several years ago when MCSO blocked access to St. Paul's (now Iglesia San Pablo) Episcopal Church on 31st Street in downtown Phoenix.  This church with a predominantly Spanish language congregation was targeted by Sheriff Arpaio to snare possible undocumented worshipers. 

I cannot be bothered to picket a church where Child-of-God Joseph Arpaio might worship, but at least he doesn't have to worry about being arrested and jailed.  

The Episcopal Church Welcomes You

The triennial convention of The Episcopal Church closed in Indianapolis.  Clergy and lay deputies and bishops are home again, home again.  And they are beginning to report their reflections by diocesan websites, blogs and social networking.  As I said earlier this month  I am drawn to observe this convention like a moth to a flame, but from a safe distance.

Over the past nine years TEC has struggled painfully to address ways of bringing lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender children of God into the church's mainstream.  This struggle began in the 1970's as a very tentative movement.  I remember the (then) bishop of the Diocese of Nebraska reporting to members of St. Matthew's Episcopal Church that this very controversial topic had been brought up and that a resolution had called for committees to study the issues and make recommendations to the next convention three years hence.  He stumbled and stuttered in search of appropriate words for 'homosexuals'.  He spoke of sexual preference rather than orientation.  He did the best he could and when he asked if we had any questions or comments we remained still as church mice.

I remained silent although I could have said many things.  I was barely out to myself and my immediate family, and not at all to people at church.  As much as I claimed to be proud (or at least not ashamed), I could not bring myself to say, "I am one you will be studying for the next three years.  What would you like to ask me?"  Had every one of us in every church hearing this report had been able to speak up, the struggle might have been shorter.  Hard to say whether it would be less painful.  It was painful to be psychically silenced; it would have been painful to be attacked even verbally.  And that's the way it was in the early 1970's.

In the first decade of the twenty-first century, much had been accomplished in homes and businesses and schools.  Even much had been accomplished within some church denominations, most notably in the United Church of Christ.  TEC had moved forward at a grindingly slow pace at first, but in 2003 gay clergy were beginning to be accepted and V. Gene Robinson was elected and confirmed Bishop of the Diocese of New Hampshire.  Bp. Gene was the first openly gay man to be consecrated in TEC.  He was required to wear a Kevlar vest at his consecration.  As you can see many bishops came to celebrate this 'first' for the Episcopal Church.

  

One enormous barrier down; one to go. The other shoe dropped with far less angst and drama at this year's convention.  From the Arizona Diocesan Delegation Rev. John Kitagawa reports:

While controversial, there was a strong majority supporting the decision to issue a liturgical rite for the blessing of same-sex relationships. That makes it possible for us to say with greater integrity, “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You.” I am pleased our Deputation was unanimous in our support. I believe new pastoral and evangelical possibilities are now open to our Church.

--The Rev. John E. Kitagawa, D. Min., Clergy Deputy

   

So after three years of more study, a committee will produce drafts of same-sex relationship blessings for consideration.  So it takes a long time to go from, "Oh, homosexuals?" to "The Episcopal Church welcomes you."

But it's been fascinating to watch the journey.  And the journey will continue.

For the Arizona Delegates' full report, click here.

Phoenix Writers Club

Bluewater Grill hosted the July 2012 meeting of the Phoenix Writers Club, and I had the pleasure of attending and catching up with members I knew six to seven years ago.  It surprises me that so many members have remained.  In addition to current president Cindi Reiss and treasurer Eileen Birin, BetteLou Tobin, Marge, Elaine, and Diane were there.  Missing were Mabel Leo, Patricia Brooks, Rita Ackerman and probably some others I've met before.  

It is July in Phoenix after all.  Anybody with a dime to spare and any sense flees the Valley.  So over the next few months I'll have the opportunity to get reacquainted with others.

Phoenix Writers Club has been active for over 80 years, one of the longest continuous groups in Arizona.  Though members like me may come and go, many are core stalwarts who carry forward PWC's goals.  The same welcome and encouragement was offered at today's meeting as was offered to me years ago.  Members encourage one another, share experiences with publishing as well as writing, and reach out to aspiring writers of all ages.

PWC's website has a tab labeled "Be A Writer".  What's the first piece of advice?  It tells me to say out loud, "I am a writer."  Thanks, Eileen; thanks PWC!

So here I am to say, 

"I am a writer."  

Doctors! What Are They Thinking?

Doctors don't seem to have the sense God gave a goose.

I am benefiting greatly from medical science thanks to having finally arrived at Medicare.  (And Medicare is a whole other *good* topic!)  Yet I cannot figure out some of my doctors' reasoning.  Even if I specifically ask for something I need, my wishes may as well be fishes.

I have a PA-C for my PCP (Primary Care Provider).  She has boundless common sense, listens to my wishes and actually does what I ask (unless it would be bad for me in which case she explains).  Need a referral to a specialist within bicycling distance?  No problem. Our neighborhood is full of all kind of specialists.  Want 90 day prescriptions?  No problem!

My previous MD doc's office interpreted 90 days as some drugs 30 days, some others 60 days and..oh yeah, some 90 days.  I was running to the pharmacy every month even though I'd have much preferred quarterly.  

Now I have a new specialist, a cardiologist, who needs to go in search of a brain.  First visit:  I give him a detailed list of my existing prescriptions.  He glances through it and sees I am on one cholesterol med and one ACE inhibitor-type blood pressure med.  Out loud he tells me he may want me to take a beta blocker-type bp med, but he won't know for sure until after my echo-cardiogram.  Sounds right to me, so I don't give him any static or advice about meds.

The next day, my pharmacy notifies me my two new prescriptions are ready for me.

What????

He had ordered an increased dosage of the ACE inhibitor and the same dosage of my cholesterol med.  No mention of this to me during the appointment at all.  I refused the cholesterol drug and declined to take the bp drug until my other prescription ran out.

I have advised this doc to not order any meds without discussing it with me first.  I won't know until next time whether this went through one ear and out the other or if the advice stuck.  I am not optimistic.  Not pessimistic either.  Just skeptical.

So now we have the echo results and I'm being prescribed the promised beta-blocker.  No problem.  He explains that I have a big aortic root, that the blood vessel that comes out of the heart to supply the rest of my body with oxygenated blood, is 4.0 cm in diameter.  This is, he tells me, the upper limit of normal.  Then he says I should be seen by a heart surgeon for evaluation.  I am skeptical and say so.  If it is the upper limit of normal, isn't that normal or close enough to normal?  He says, he couldn't sleep at night if he doesn't refer this case to a cardiovascular surgeon.  I reluctantly agree to accept an appointment, and remind his staff that I need a referral to a neighborhood doctor.  

A couple of days later I get a call from the office of a cardiovascular surgeon in *Goodyear*.

 What????

I did some simple research through the Arizona board of medical examiners (azmed.gov). I learned that there is a group practice of CV surgeons two floors downstairs from the cardiologist's office, one mile from my house.

Okay.  Call me peeved.

I'm not amused at the notion of CV surgery anyway.  I'll keep you posted. 

      

Sunday Night

I'm tired tonight, both physically and emotionally.

Many times in my life I've lived with other people, family, friends, lovers, and just visitors.  I'm pretty good at it.  But I've also lived alone quite a bit and that has advantages, too. I'm very happy with Jim living with me at this time.  I am finding that I have less tolerance for other social activities, no matter how much I expect to enjoy them.  

It is as if I have a threshold for the number of people contacts I can cope with in a given span of time without blowing a fatigue fuse.  And this weekend I passed over that threshold.  Tomorrow is likely to be a quiet day.  I have a meeting in the late morning with a friend after which we may go to a meeting with other friends of Bill W.  Other than that the day is unscheduled. 

And I am looking forward to that.  I may write.  I may exercise.  I may nap.  I will certainly enjoy a good meal or two.

And then again, God may have other plans.  Altogether now, hahahahahahahaa!

Independence Day 2012

Jim and I seated ourselves on our 'front porch' tonight to watch the City of Phoenix fireworks display at Steele Indian School Park, just less than a mile from us.  We armed ourselves with the 1812 Overture on my MP3 player and by some miracle firework crescendos sometimes matched the musical crescendos!  This was Sweetie's first year at 4112 and I wasn't sure how she would react to the noise and smoke and people.  Jim and I talked strategies in case fireworks made her crazy, but she was as serene as can be through the whole evening.

Before the official and fun fireworks we have neighborhood chaos from people looking for parking somewhat near the park.  Our side of the street is marked no parking for other reasons, and early birds correctly figure the police have more to do than ticket for parking.  What stuns us as we watch the parade of cars coming and going after the street is 100% parked up.  At the entrance to our street is a sign that most people just don't see:

This sign is small compared to the real one, but no one sees it or heeds it.

It is beyond my comprehension how many cars blithely ignore the obvious and return to try again even after they've tried it.  Done. Full.  People, we have no more room for you.  Fortunately this is the only occasion that causes this phenomenon.

To add to our pre-show chaos, a motor patrol officer stopped an offending vehicle right in front of our driveway.  There was the usual conversation,  exchange of paper and radio calls all while the motorbike's red and blue flashers were nearly blinding us.  Ticket or warning was given to the driver about five minutes into the fireworks, and we were cleared for a good view from then on.  This show runs about 30 minutes so we finally had an enjoyable time.  This could have been an image from ours.  Hat tip to the Cloverdale Lions Club for a better pic than I could get:

 Happy Independence Day, America.  We are doing better than we think we are.  As long as we learn the facts and turn up to vote, America will survive quite nicely.    

Like a Moth to the Flame

Every three years the Episcopal Church meets in national session for about 10 days, beginning this year on July 4th.  As a cradle member of this denomination I have a great affection for what the church can be for all people.  Yet I've come and gone and come and gone several times in my adult live.

TEC is one of the ideal churches in my thinking.  One can worship at a Eucharist nearly identical to the post Vatican II Roman Catholic Church, or one can worship at a simple 30-40 minute communion service not unlike other protestant churches.  I grew up singing a song that would now be labeled politically incorrect, but it said a lot about the breadth and depth of Episcopal beliefs (tune is God Bless America):

I am an Anglican; I am PE (Protestant Episcopal),

neither high church nor low church, 

I am protestant and catholic and free.

Not a Presby, nor a Lutheran, nor a Baptist

white with foam.....!*

I am an Anglican, via media, boom boom.

* with apologies to my friends of other denominations and religions

I love my church and a lot of folks in my church love me, but I don't seem to be able to deal with even this generous pastoral church.  That's about me, not about the Episcopal Church.

July 4th is day after tomorrow.  Like a moth drawn inexorably to the flame, I'll be watching the triennial struggles.  And praying for all who mean to do well for the work of our Creator, Redeemer, Teacher and Guide.  Prayers ascend!

I'm Just Full of It!

Full of vim, vigor, and vitality yesterday and today!

Yesterday I enjoyed the endorphin glow following a good session of physical therapy warm ups, stretches and exercises at the   YMCA...all together now...Y M C A...da dah, dah.  Today I am enjoying the sense of well-being I get from just visiting with a friend over good coffee.

It seems I am coming alive in a number of ways, in ways that I've needed but not accepted in the past couple of years.  I think it has to do with allowing other people into my life in more than an abstract way.  I'm happy to have Jim at home today.  I'm happy I'm taking better care of my health.  I'm happy that I'm meeting new people.  

Wow.  Life sure rocks when one lets people in!  

Ma Bell and Me

When Jim moved in I asked him to transfer his cable service here since I've lived a TV free life for quite a few years now.  The only service I was using was broadband for my internet connection.  He added broadband to his package, and I cancelled my broadband access with the competing business.  Or thought I did.  Turned out I failed in my mission because I refused to answer personal questions about why I wanted to cancel.

When you call Phone-Co-Name-of-the-Year and ask to disconnect a service, a 'customer service' person transfers you to what they call the Disconnection Department.  Internally I suspect they call it "Customer Retention."  The purpose of the "disconnection" department is to talk you into keeping your service--whether you need it or not; whether you want it or not.  To learn why a customer wishes to cancel they ask, "Why?"

  

Apparently it is not okay to say, "Just because."  I personally didn't think it was the Phone Co's business why I wished to cancel.  But Mr. Customer Retention persisted in his questioning.  I felt like I was being interrogated and in a way, belittled.  I was certainly not feeling like a respected customer.  I finally said, "Cancel my service and we are finished now," and I hung up.

Darned if I didn't receive next month's bill as if nothing had happened.  Because nothing had happened.  I said a prayer for sanity and serenity and called again.  I spoke with a representative named Carmen who was willing to listen to my belief that interrogation should not be a corporate response to a cancelling customer.  She kindly cancelled my account and credited the billed (but unused) month.

Now that's the way to treat a customer!  Way to go, Carmen.

(As is often the case, I was too befuddled to ask Mr. CR what his name was.  I'm sure he answered with it in the beginning, but who wants to remember a jerk anyway.)    

Corporate Greed and Me

Businesses who know that they have us by the delicate parts can't refrain from upping their prices.  This isn't because they need to improve infrastructure or defray research and development costs.  This is because they feel the need to advertise massively.

Few days go by without a communications company advert in my mailbox; few go by without an advert in the newspaper; and few hours go by without an avert on TV, computer or radio.  Every time I pay a cable bill for my mega-communications provider a huge chunk of the change pays for the company's advertising.  Any time I am prescribed a brand name drug instead of a generic equivalent its high cost will help pay for its R and D, but much will also pay for advertising.  As much as I enjoy our Aussie Gecko character, I don't buy that company's insurance because I need to be paying a fair premium rather than helping them buy advertising.


The only way to fight back is to buy the generic or the service from a company that doesn't advertise wildly.  It means I have to do the footwork to find the reputable company that prices fairly but advertises little.  It's not easy, but in the long run it saves money and helps the company with greater integrity. 

   

So that's today's rant and I'm sticking to it!  (Not wildly exciting, is it?) Tune in tomorrow to learn how to cancel a service from the Phone-Company-Name-of-the-Year.  At least the current incarnation knows how to spell.

Congratulations to Vernon Parker

Vernon Parker, Republican candidate for Congress, is the first candidate to notice me on the Republican voter registration list.

Today I received a hyper vitrolic email assuring me that if I help put him in Congress, he will REPEAL "Obamacare".  It must have been ready for instantaneous release upon the Supreme Court's ruling to allow the Affordable Healthcare Act to go forward without substantive changes.  I'm sure candidate Parker had one ready to release in celebration had the Supremes ruled against "Obamacare."  And yes, he said Obamacare, not Affordable Healthcare Act.  It's time for that to stop.

I found it necessary to communicate with candidate Parker and express my view that the Affordable Healthcare Act is a step forward for America.  It will actually improve access to healthcare on a fair basis.  Now we need to stop congressional squabbling and start to improve accessibility to education and jobs.  We need congressmen and women who can work together for the good of America and make improvements.

I promised him my vote if he promises to work for IMPROVING the Affordable Healthcare Act.  

I'll let you know if I hear from him.

Someday Sasha and Malia Obama are going to be very proud of the nickname "Obamacare " for the Affordable Healthcare Act.

  

The Novel is out of Cyber-Mothballs

Once upon a time long ago, Pat started writing a novel about some social justice issues.  She really was getting into it when suddenly she stopped.  No excuses.  At at same time I was taking a writing class, attending meetings of the Phoenix Writers' Club, writing blog posts. Hey, some of those blog posts are pretty good!  I stopped all those activities, too.  Okay, full disclosure here.  I was distracted by a femme fatale.  A good time was had by all, but not a lasting time.  This is where the 'no excuses' part comes in.  Once stopped, I failed to restart.

I tried to resurrect my interest in writing a couple of years ago.  I enlisted the aid of Julie Smith, author and teacher.  I bought her set of discs detailing many good writing skills, items like development of plot and character as well as practical every day writing advice such as keep your "butt in the chair".  I realized immediately what my problem was.  Butt would not stay in the chair.  Body would not rejoin PWC.  Novel was saved to hard drive and forgotten.

There is no telling what will happen here.  Butt is in chair.  Posts are being written.  PWC's next meeting is calendared for attendance.  Novel has been converted from old Word to 2010 Word.  We shall see!   

But wait! Who is Sweetie?

Sweetie is a mixed breed canine who joined our household last October 9th.  Sweetie was adopted from the Sunnyslope branch of the Arizona Humane Society.  She was billed as a Shih-Tzu/Pug and I can certainly identify traits of those two breeds.  Sweetie is also some kind of spaniel, some kind of terrier, and some kind of Lord-knows-what!

Given a squeaky toy of any shape or size, she can identify and disable the squeaker in a matter of short minutes.  She will then continue to play with it until it begins to lose its stuffing, sometimes in days but usually in weeks.  Then Mom (yeah, me) sews the stuffing back in and it continues like this till Mom 'disappears' it permanently.

When I worked, I felt as though I wouldn't be able to give a dog the time and patience needed.  I lived with a succession of lovable cats the last of whom disappeared (headed for the rainbow bridge?) while I was still living at Michael's. Michael's beloved dog, Skittles, and their new adoptee, Pumpkin, filled an emptiness in my animal loving heart.  I realized I could easily adopt a dog now that I'm retired.  And so I have.

Sweetie was called Pandi Bear by the shelter.  I don't know who her early family people were, but they must have loved her very much.  She is beautifully trained and in excellent  health.  The shelter and vet agree that she was about 2 years old when she and I met.

I can only hope that she is as happy to have me for family as I am to have her!

If you have the urge to play "Name That Dog", feel free to make your suggestions.  Argyle is already in the suggestion box.  Just look at those sox!     

Jim G Joins the Household

My friend, Jim G, has joined Sweetie and me.


Jim is a friend of nearly 30 years who has a car.  I have a house; he has a car; we both have income and outgo.  We also have many friends in common and enjoy playing cards and sharing household chores.  We are both fairly hapless at classic housekeeping, so we are getting the place cleaned for us every two weeks.  Hopefully we can keep up otherwise.


Jim is a very good cook, and I certainly love to eat!  Oops, time for me to do laundry. 

Jim sports a crown of gold.  Is he the original Burger King?

House Looking like Home

What a difference a year makes!  Doug Hooley came back this spring to prune the overgrown and tame the wild.  I'm sure over the past 61 years the landscape of this front yard has seen many forms, but none as beautiful as this.

Doug, Brett, Clay, and John did wonders.  There are over twenty different desert plants, most in full bloom at this time.  Doug complemented me on keeping the weeds at bay, but I think my insistence of having a minimum of 2 inches of rock over the turf made the job fairly easy, not to mention Round-Up.

*     *     *

Last April, my Master Landscape Artist was placing frail little plants in the front yard.  The patchy grass littered with weeds had been removed.  The flat surface was dug up, shifted around, mounded up, and gullied out.  A sculptor and nature photographer had painstakingly laid a variety of river rock into the y-shaped (Lambda shaped?) 'river bed'.  Doug Hooley was the landscaper, Brett Orton was the river sculptor and Clay and John were the movers and shakers and diggers and builders.  It was hard but beautiful work!

     April 2011 saw the finished desert landscaping

The Recession is Ending! I have proof!!

So my rickety achy breaky back now requires me to do a little less standing and walking without assistance.  

To enhance my home's curb appeal and relax my back I bought one of those nice looking park benches.  I thank my friend Michael, who kindly fetched the "some assembly required" box of wrought iron ends, oak seat slats and the little bag of bolts, nuts, washers, and wood screws.  Oh yes, let's not forget the one-page of assembly instructions.  Big eye roll.

The top third of the page was an itemized list of the components allegedly contained in the box. Cast iron and wood back, pre-assembled....1 (check), cast iron bench frames....2 (check), wood slats....etc.  There were also 27 bitsy hardware pieces to put everything together.  I counted and there were more than 27.  Oh boy.

I would have to follow directions VERY carefully.  Too many widgets.  Not a good sign.

Step by step, piece by piece the assembly began and went on and on and on.  This was not the manufacturer's fault I must admit.  Only mine.  Now lets think this through, friends.  Bad back. DIY project.  Yeah.  'Nother big eye roll.  My methods were odd, but I got the job done slowly but surely.  

Twenty-one nuts, bolts, washers and wood screws were used.  Yep--21.  Leaving six miscellaneous leftovers.  Six:  2 wood screws, 1 washer, 2 bolts (1 long, 1 short), and 1 nut that would fit either.  

What was the manufacturer thinking?  Don't they know they can't afford to waste widgets?  I ask you....

The recession is over.  I have proof!    

Then and Now at 4112

This is how 'home' looked December 1, 2010, the day I moved in. I took the real estate agent's sign out of the living room window and made a few other changes.

And this is how HOME looks today after those few changes!

Hard to believe it's the same place. Just a bit more work inside and we'll do some before-and-after inside. This is a precious gift from my Creator, Redeemer, Teacher/Friend!

Honey, I'm Home

Holy mortgage payments, Batman!! Pat owns a house. Stay tuned for updates coming soon!

9-11 Remembrance

Please, Lord, this...

...not this....

Journey To a Consecration in Navajoland

Just home from Navajoland, the Shiprock and Farmington area to be more precise.

I had the pleasure of traveling with 40 good souls from St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, Trinity Cathedral and other valley churches. David Kaiser was our trusty "motor coach (not bus!) operator". Janet Kaiser was our very able organizer and Cruise Director.

Our journey's purpose was to celebrate the consecration of David Bailey as bishop of the Navajo Area Mission.

Pictures and more information are at Flickr.com under my files as Patinphx.

Cathy Eden for US Senate

I'm stumping by telephone for Cathy Eden, the only woman candidate on the Democratic primary ballot.

It ain't easy.

First my only working phone is my cell phone. And because I don't have the company with the best coverage, I must call from the front porch in order to get calls to go through.

Most people have voice mail and it is a simple matter to leave a message from the script provided by Eden for Arizona campaign. Interestingly the only time a human answers the telephone, the person to whom I need to speak is not there. Every single one of them has given me permission to call back later. I must sound good to them. As for the left messages, I sound like a canned message. I try to personalize the message by using the voter's name at least once. Best I can do.

Cathy's website is www.edenforaz.com.

I'm happy I can help Cathy Eden's campaign in the way.

Oh, yes! Vote for Cathy Eden on your Dem ballot by mail or at the polls on August 24th.

Go Cathy!!

July Respite

Phoenix Arizona blisters from mid-June through September. During monsoon season, we get an occasional break from the 105 -- 115 degree (Fahrenheit) temperatures. Now is such a time.

Our dew point and humidity rise and the cloud cover shades us. Over the past three days we have enjoyed mild temperatures under 100 degrees. I resumed walking and busing for pleasure, not just for getting to work. Summer in Phoenix is estivation time for me. I just hide out in air conditioning until a respite like this.

Joy to the world! It's cool this morning. Only 86 degrees. Our respite will end today or tomorrow. But I will remember this blessing as we resume hot, hot weather.

Happy Independence Day

God Bless America!

Here's my favorite celebration for today courtesy of cartoonists Cantu y Castellanos:

I am an immigrant to Arizona, having lived in the Phoenix area over 35 years. I don't expect to leave, though one never knows what the future will bring. Many people in Arizona have worked themselves into a miserable frenzy over Mexican border immigration laws and policies. Rather than evaluate each new neighbor as an individual, many in Arizona have formed a blanket belief that anyone coming to AZ from Mexico is inherently evil, a bringer of smuggled people or drugs, an automatic addition to urban gangs, or a sneak thief intent on sucking up American benefits without paying taxes.

I know Mexican nationals living here without valid documentation who have started businesses, paid taxes, bought their home, contribute to their churches and charities. In short, they live just as I--a transplanted Nebraskan--live. Responsible people should be recognized and welcomed. People who come here from anywhere to create trouble, divert resources, or especially commit crimes need to be deported and KEPT THE HELL OUTA OUR NATION, not just Arizona.

Right now my chosen home state is not behaving as I would prefer. We will have a new law, SB1070, by the end of this month that is an embarrassment to me and quite a few other Arizonans. It is sufficiently egregious that even our state courts may stay its implementation. This law attempts to usurp federal border and immigration policies for local enforcement. Although I disagree with this law personally, if it drives immigration reform at the federal level, it will have served a noble purpose.

In the meantime, Baldo is my neighbor. I don't care where he was born!

God bless America!

...as I understand God.

As a child my understanding of God came from Christian teachings, specifically the Episcopal Church's teachings. As an adult I can't just shake off my understanding of God as Creator, Redeemer, and Guide-Teacher-Friend. Yet my understanding has repeatedly changed, grown and expanded as my life progresses.

God, as I understand God, is beyond the confines of the Old Testament, the New Testament, the Quran, or any other sacred writings. God is beyond human understanding other than how we choose to anthropomorphize a deity. God is productive in far more ways than male or female. God is the sum and substance of all that is seen and unseen in and beyond the known universe.

As each element of creation comes into being, it is imbued with the nature of the Creator. Stars, planets, black holes, little planets like Earth have life in ways beyond human understanding. So, too, do paramecia, amoeba, viruses, seeds, nuts, and all plant and animal life.

For me God is present in all Creation. How could it be otherwise?

Waiting

Waiting is usually not too hard for me.

So I've been waiting. It seems like I've been waiting a long time. Waiting to hear if lender(s) will approve the short sale of a home I'm trying to buy. There is absolutely nothing I can do to hurry the process.

I was carefully cautioned by my real estate professional that short sales take a long time and can even fall apart on the day of the final signing. Final signing. Doesn't that sound like a prized ritual of commerce? Then I read an article in the Arizona Republic that made more clear what a "long time" really meant. Ouch. We are just at the beginning of a long time.

It feels like it has been six months, but it has only been six weeks. Prayers are welcome! I wrote a prayer asking Abba to help me awaiting the perfect timing and solution. I'm pretty sure He knows I meant "Hurry up, Dad, please!" But I know that perfect timing and perfect solution lead to the best outcomes.

So wait I will!

Practicing perpetual patience,

Pat

Now I'll Git Fit

I came home from work today to find my latest issue of AARP Magazine. Opening to a random page I found myself looking at advice for gardeners regarding bending, raking, pushing a wheelbarrow, and doing squats. Each gardening activity was accompanied by an exercise to improve muscle performance for each job.

I was not gardening today, but my work involved bending, lifting and carrying light loads. After every workday, I feel like I need a total back replacement. Mercifully a warm shower and a good night's sleep followed by a day off from work relieves the aches and pains until the next work day.

Semi-retirement: What a blessing! Think I'll try a couple of these exercises. Maybe.

That's How She Is

Recently I re-wrote my e-mail tag line to say that I don't do social networking, but I write a blog.

In all honesty I play with a blog. I am more apt to embed a video I like or comment on someone else's writing with a link to the original material. It took me a while to learn how to upload pictures, embed videos, and create links that worked. So I guess it is useful to practice those skills sometimes, but I feel myself filling up with the Great Unwritten. It's time to live up to my tag line, to relieve the clogged up case of literary constipation.

Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises.

Okay now: once a day, every day, write, write, WRITE!