Bug Byte Love

On the Road

2010-03-29T13:16:00.001-07:00

I want to be on the road, yeah, I'll be alone, but I'm alone now.

Mom

2010-01-20T20:56:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken 57 years ago. Mom and I were, well, a certain age.

Inez M. Shields (nee Weber) died two years ago this coming March.

We had a long stormy relationship. There were a lot of valid reasons for that most of the time, but now she's gone and oddly, I only seem to recall those moments when we laughed, there were quite a few. The other times, the bad stuff, it's over and doesn't matter so much anymore.

It would have been better if I could have opened my mind a bit to understand enough of life to comfort her better at the end of it. I don't know how to make up for that and I'm afraid it's too late now.

See you soon.

Penny

2010-01-17T16:21:00.000-08:00

Penny was old when I got her.Her knees and hips were half on the way to gone and I think her eyes were already starting to fade. Penny's story wasn't a bad one. She grew up with a woman who loved her but then her person got too old to take care of Penny and she was neglected. After Penny lost her person things got worse. Thankfully, someone called Old Dog Haven who rescued her and made her well again.Somehow I found Penny girl - lucky day for me. She came to my home and has done far more to ease so many broken parts of me than I have ever done for her.

There is an inevitable day I know is now too close. Penny's sight and hearing are pretty much gone, She startles easily and sometimes senses things that just aren't there. She does not recognize the cats, maybe thinking they are raccoons coming after her food. She struggles when rising and when lying down. I know she hurts.

The thing is,I have not yet arrived at that moment, imagining my life without her.

God should have given one tenth of the heart and soul of her to humankind. She stands ready to forgive any smallness of spirit,any less than noble action.

She is a whole complete soul, only waiting to go home.

In your Life

2010-01-15T18:38:00.000-08:00

There will be only a handful of people who see you, who "get" you. Hold onto them. I am not talking about those who flatter you, who imitate you, who hang onto you. I am talking about those, you will know them, who instantly know exactly who you are. You will know them. It is as if some magical line of communication has opened and you understand exactly what they are saying and they know exactly what you are saying. Yes, this is very rare and it has nothing to do with romance or lust or attraction.

Sometimes it lasts for a moment, sometimes it lasts for a bus ride, sometimes it lasts for a lifetime. Do not let it go.

Bufflehead or Hooded Merganser

2009-02-19T05:00:00.001-08:00

And just in time to be included in my Great Backyard Bird Count!

Every year in late winter or early spring and if the pond isn't frozen, a pair of ducks spends a day or two paddling around. Maybe they're on their way somewhere and just resting here, but I always wish they would stay and raise a family.

These, I first thought, are Buffleheads; however, after staring at the pictures and going through my bird book several times, I'm now leaning more toward Hooded Mergansers because of the breast color and stripe. Buffleheads seem more white from breast all the way across the bottom of their bodies. Most of the ducks that land here are very wary and it is difficult to get close enough to get a good picture - they either fly away or dive under the water.

One year it's Wood Ducks, another year Mallards and there are almost never more than two, a mated pair. Only once have I seen two species of duck on the pond at the same time. In any event, it's a moment of absolute happiness for me to observe wildlife. I wish them well and Godspeed on their journey home.

Great Backyard Bird Count Feb 13 thru Feb 16, 2009

2009-02-13T07:51:00.001-08:00

Get involved! It's fun, it's easy, it's FREE.

Learn about the birds in your area and around the world and help keep track of their populations.

Hippo Birdy

2009-01-22T02:32:00.001-08:00

Things are not always what they seem.

Be careful.

Only in Mexico

2009-01-16T14:19:00.000-08:00

12/29/2000 Mazatlan Old Town
5 p.m. beer and botana at Son Sin

Calendaria (the very lovely handmaiden of beer and all good kitchen things) comes over to the table where I sit eating her delicious homemade soup - in her hand she has a large spoon which she dips into my bowl, removing one of the onions to return to her cooking pot.

Only in Mexico - where if you have no Spanish, the heart is always softened by smiles.

Mabel Frances Weber Valentine, nee Cooper

2009-01-05T10:07:00.000-08:00

This is my gram at 16 years of age, four feet eleven and solid steel. She made the dress she's wearing, I guess everyone made their own clothes in those days. Too bad we don't still cherish that art. Grammy died on March 4, 1994, just two months shy of her 101st birthday. She was born May 1, 1893 in Elgin, Nebraska. I remember on her 100th birthday asking her what she thought about it, she said, "I don't know what happened to the first 99 years!" At 100 years she was a little hard of hearing, but the thought processes still worked fine. She never lost the twinkle in her blue eyes either.

My gram is the one I talk about in an earlier post about gardening. She lived in an apartment in Seattle then and I remember like yesterday when she gave me that package of nasturtium seeds, took me outside to the big concrete planters that bordered the sidewalk and said, "plant them." So I did, and watered and watched every single day. When that first little green sprout stuck its head up, I was ecstatic (remember, I was only 10). And then they grew like crazy and there were big bunches of bright orange flowers cascading all over the place all summer long. A perfect plant for a kid to start with - easy to grow, prolific, and gorgeous! That is how my life-long love of gardening got started. My gram never dumped poison on the earth either and neither have I.

I don't know much about Gram's early life. She met and married a man named Gus Weber who was born in Switzerland and stowed away on a ship when he was 15 to reach the shores of America. He was an artist, a newspaperman, a musician who had his own band. He fought in the Spanish-American war, was injured, and later died in a VA hospital. I never knew him because my mom was only 12 when he died. Gram was left with five little boys and three little girls to raise. I don't know how she did it. She eventually married Grandpa Bob Valentine. My impression, gained at the age of three, was of a sweet man who took time to give me rides in his old car and tried to teach me about chickens and eggs and such. I wish I knew more about him. My father was in the service then and when we moved away from the mid-west, we never returned. But still, if only people would realize how valuable their lives are and how important to keep logs, or journals to pass along vital information, as well as impressions of the events of the time.

Grammy spent many years researching her family's roots. The Mormon church has very extensive genealogy records and that was her main source of information. I often wonder how much more she could have learned if only she had a computer. As it was, using only the telephone and the U.S. mail, she filled a very large binder and found relatives going back 400 years. It is a fascinating piece of work that she left us - I hope to maybe pick up where she left off, but that may be a job best left to the next generation.

When I was 11 or 12, Gram showed me how to make a pattern using an already-made shirt and then I cut out the material and made another shirt! That's the way they did it "in the old days." Wouldn't hurt to revive some of those old abilities now. She guided me in baking my very first apple pie from scratch and it was a gorgeous thing, perfect crust, perfect filling, golden brown. Thinking back now, those simple things she taught me, the results she let me have all on my own, that's really what happiness turns out to be - the simple stuff.

Grammy never smoked a cigarette or touched a drop of liquor and the only times I thought I heard a curse from her mouth would be those times she would be flipping through a magazine and come upon an ad for some kind of booze. The rest of the time she expressed disapproval by saying, "Aw shaw!"

Grammy enjoyed Lawrence Welk. I remember watching it with her, laying on the floor looking over at her every now and then where she sat on the sofa, big smile on her face. She loved Norma Zimmer, the Champagne Lady, and I loved the bubble machine. There were a lot of good shows on TV in those days, radio too - we didn't have to be embarrassed by nudity and sex scenes on family television, or frightened by violence and gratuitous bloodshed. I think the experience of watching TV together was a whole different thing then, mostly we laughed together and didn't have to look around trying to avoid each other's eyes because we were embarrassed.

I miss Grammy. She had a long life, parts of it sad, parts of it happy, but she was always included up to the day she died and she always had a smile. That's the way families ought to be.

Two good things

2008-12-30T09:06:00.000-08:00

Being first to stick a spoon in a new jar of peanut butter.

Douglas Dresch

2008-12-28T17:06:00.000-08:00

You were my friend.

Imagine a whole bunch of words here
twenty years of laughter, tears,
anger, joy, words shouted, songs sung.

Imagine a very large hollow place
where your energy once
occupied the earth and filled
corners now left empty.

Imagine me imagining all that
and wondering how shattering the weeping
when suddenness and shock depart
and leaves life alone here.

Rest in Peace good buddy.

Apology

2008-12-28T09:39:00.000-08:00

Last week, to anyone who would listen or who was trapped by circumstances and forced to listen, I issued my usual smug assertion about how "I have been driving on snow and ice for umpty-ump years and have never had a problem..."

Several decades ago I lived in Cheyenne, Wyoming and it was there I turned 16 during a January blizzard. My uncles Bill and L.C., themselves just kids in their 30's, took me out and showed me the ropes about driving on snow and ice. In Cheyenne in January, there really isn't any other choice.

My lessons were basically two:
1. Drive slow, even especially when it seems like everyone else is moving along at the speed limit.
2. Keep your foot off the brake. If you must use it to stop, tap tap tap, never mash the brake on snow and ice.

In case of skid or slide, turn the wheel toward the slide. Uh huh.

There were other things they taught me as well, eyes must always be moving; rear-view mirror, side mirrors, side of the road, ahead and behind - always know what is around you and where it is. Driving the way they taught me earned a lifetime of no accidents, no tickets, no squishing of small animals. And I really felt I knew my way around ice and snow and the road.

Until now. In my own driveway. I apologize for my arrogance and thank you for not saying whatever it is you're thinking, for even after the snow melts, I will need a tow truck to get me out. Lesson learned.

Marilyn Eylar

2008-12-18T05:44:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Eylar,

I waited 45 years too long to tell you. For that I am profoundly sorry for it may be too late.

You were the best teacher I ever had.

You never let us get away with doing things the easy way. You forced us to think, you brooked no nonsense, you graded hard.

You made school worth it.

Aphids

2008-10-22T16:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, so aphids aren't the greatest things to have around. They are tiny, soft-bodied insects that come in a variety of colors (the little bugs on the right in the picture). Aphids are most often seen in their wingless form, less than 1/8" long and in middle to large-size groups which generally contain eggs, nymphs, winged and wingless adults - all of which are female. The first time they reproduce, they do so without a male, which is why they seem to break out in such huge numbers all over your plants. The longer they are allowed to remain, the more quickly they will completely overcome the plant until it seems to teem with them as though it had a second skin.

In the picture above, the orange and blue pupae, or larva, on the left is actually a ladybug pupae which is about to consume large quantities of aphids, their eggs and nymphs.

Here is a picture of a ladybug larvae as it might appear to you in your own garden. Remember that the colors can range anywhere from light yellow and purple to deep orange and blue or any combination thereof. You don't want to inadvertently squish one of these - they destroy massive amounts of aphids. Spiders also consume large quantities of aphids.

It is fairly easy to get rid of aphids if they are caught early. I simply run my fingers up and down the stems and over the leaves where I find them, taking care that I don't destroy any beneficial insects while I'm doing it. Aphids are easily dislodged with a spray of water, but I don't use this method until it is quite warm outside because I always end up soaking wet myself! I have noticed over the years that aphids tend to confine themselves to one vertical area on a plant when first starting out. Therefore, when I see aphids in early spring, I look below and above the branch and usually find more hiding out. There are plants like nasturtiums and marigolds (and many others) that seem to attract aphids and people plant them for that purpose. Using the hand removal method, an occasional spray of water, and the cooperation of a multitude of beneficial insects will keep the aphid population pretty well under control. There will always be a few hanging around, but they will do minimal damage, especially compared to the damage that might be done if pesticides were used instead of organic methods.

Made in America - Boston Pencil Sharpener

2008-10-19T15:23:00.000-07:00

Here it is, my trusty Boston pencil sharpener. I have had this sharpener for several years and it is still working as well as it did the first day I got it.

More and more I find myself using pencils instead of pens. They are inexpensive, easy to erase, and I like the way they feel in my hand.

There is another benefit I hadn't given thought to until just now. The aroma of pencil shavings brings me back ever briefly to my school days - a time I loved.

(Gardeners learn to enjoy the simple things and to appreciate the fleeting moments perhaps more than those who do not dig and hoe, water and weed, fertilize and tend to - all for that glorious moment when a tiny seed punches its way through the crust of earth, reaching for the sun)

"Made in USA"

We need to get our country back to where this is the most familiar sign on the bottom of, well, everything!

That is the road to prosperity and pride for ourselves and our families, and while there can be no guarantees for anyone, American factories producing American goods can go a long way toward making this country whole again.

Don't Clean Up Your Garden!

2008-10-18T13:47:00.000-07:00

As winter starts to chill the garden, we are tempted to get outside, tear out the dead and dying plants, clear away debris, have everything be neat and tidy. It may look better that way, but in nature, that is not the way things are handled. Nature knows best how to handle its cycles and she can teach us if we will watch and listen.

The pods left behind from our winter flowers and vegetables provide food and shelter for birds and insects over the long winter months. The debris of a dead plant may shelter the tender shoots when that plant reseeds itself in spring.

We are unseasonably warm here in the Northwest and many plants are still blooming, though some foliage may have been burned away by early frost. This picture shows a few dead leaves and some flowers and seedpods. We have had one heavy frost in my region and it withered several leaves. I may cut the leaves for the compost pile or simply let them alone to decompose where they are. I will definitely leave the seedpods to ripen and burst. Not only will they provide food for birds, there will always be enough seeds that escape into the soil to grow again next year. All the nasturtiums in my garden are volunteers. The tender young flowers can be eaten in salads and the bees love them too.

This picture shows a tangle of Blue Flax. The flowers are gone now, but the plants are laden with seedpods. Those are the round, brown objects scattered all over the plant. Blue Flax easily reseeds itself, but is not a problem to control. I love the flowers, they are small and bright blue and cover the plants from spring until late fall. Each flower only lasts one day, but there are so many, it seems in perpetual bloom. To tear out this plant simply because it has finished its seasonal bloom would, in my opinion, be foolish. Again, more seeds for the birds and insects, plus I will never have to purchase another Blue Flax, and the plant will provide years of joy in the garden.

Here is a part of the garden that is completely given over to wildflowers, herbs, and even a few weeds. You can see that some of them have gone completely to seed. During the spring and all through summer, this part of the garden is especially ahum with bees. That is the primary reason I planted it. I even allow some dandelions and other *weeds* to grow and I control them by pulling them out when they go where I don't want them. Dandelions are early bloomers and early bee flowers. If you are lucky enough to have skunk cabbage on your land, this is one of the earliest bloomers of all and therefore, a very early bee feeder. Allysum is an absolute necessity in any garden. It blooms early, attracting bumblebees and other beneficial insects, stays blooming pretty much all year especially if you trim it midway through the season, and has a wonderful light scent. Here's a picture of some Allysum that is still blooming although most of it has gone to seed.

I will leave all these plants, and more, to provide sustenance and shelter through the winter to the birds and beneficial insects that I want to have around come spring. Just like any other living thing, they go where the food is.

A true organic garden takes a lot of work and maybe a few years to really get going, particularly if damage has already been done to the ecosystem by the use of pesticides and/or herbicides. Pesticides and herbicides always kill more than advertised and always stay in the soil longer than their manufacturers would like you to believe. The use of pesticides in the garden to control *bad insects* has very much the same result as the overuse of antibiotics. What we have now are super bugs, not only in medicine, but also in our gardens, that are almost impossible to control. The pesticides wipe out beneficial insects AND BIRDS, allowing the unwanted insects to proliferate and grow stronger, developing immune systems that require more and larger applications of pesticides. We are seeing the results of pesticide use all over the world- the oceans and all streams on earth are polluted. Every man, woman, and child has poisons in their blood. This has to stop now - we face a devastating future if it does not. Start now to share your garden with other life, even if it looks like this:

This is a Rove Beetle. They are very tiny and can best be distinguished by a habit of holding up their tails like scorpions. They do not sting - however, they do eat an unbelievable amount of aphids, mites, nematodes, fly eggs, and maggots (which might explain why they like to hang around dead animals and decaying plant matter) and the occasional slug or snail. A person's first impulse might be to step on him. He's an ally, better to encourage him, not kill him.

I do very little cleanup in my garden in the fall, preferring to leave most plants to go to seed in order to provide food for birds and beneficial insects and also shelter from larger predators. I do remove plants like squash and tomatoes for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that they will generally leave the soil in better shape if they are removed when the plant dies with the frost. Over the winter, I will do virtually no weeding or culling. In the spring, when the first little sprouts stick their heads above soil, I still hold back a bit - maybe just remove some of the older, larger remnants of dead plants. I do not want to disturb the ground too much - who knows what is waiting there to push itself above the soil?

It's not a full moon

2008-10-09T23:19:00.000-07:00

But the moon tonight is very bright and the stars are out. What brought me from my bed on this October night was the sound of owls. I step outside on my deck to listen and to see and all around me they call to one another, so high up in the trees, such a gentle sound.

Owls hooting, moonlight bright as day, stars across the sky. What is there about owls, insisting in the night that I come from my bed to hear them. It's as though they whisper to me then disappear, leaving me in wonder.

Nostalgia Cafe - Macaroni Tuna

2008-06-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

A guaranteed crowd pleaser at dinner. Make a huge batch of this because they really stow it away.

To go with the Macaroni Tuna we often had a very simple salad of cut-up oranges and bananas. Cut the bananas first and then cut the oranges over the bowl so the juice drips on the bananas. When strawberries are in season, those are great in the mix too, but the old tried and true "salad" that I remember from my own childhood contained only bananas and oranges, no sugar, no syrup, nothing but fresh ripe fruit.

Ingredients:
1 Cup dry elbow macaroni
1/4 cup bottled Italian salad dressing
1 teaspoon celery seed
3/4 teaspoon dry mustard
ground pepper to taste
salt to taste
7-ounce can tuna, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped green pepper
3 Tablespoons mayonnaise

Bring 1 quart of water to boil and cook macaroni just until tender - about 8 minutes. Drain and rinse.

Combine salad dressing and seasonings in a skillet and heat to boiling. Add macaroni, tuna, celery, green pepper and toss. Continue to cook until heated through, remove from heat and stir in mayo. Makes 6 servings.

Of course there is no harm in playing around with the ingredients depending on what everyone likes!

Ladybugs and their incarnations

2008-06-26T08:45:00.001-07:00

Ladybugs are such voracious aphid eaters that many of us go to nurseries early in spring for the sole purpose of purchasing a container of these pretty little bugs for our gardens. Unfortunately, we often release them as soon as we arrive home, which is the absolute wrong tactic to use. What normally happens is they will flit around in your yard for awhile and next morning you will discover they have moved next door to your neighbor's yard.

Here is how to assure you keep the majority of your precious purchase in your own yard: When you get home from the nursery, put the container of ladybugs in your refrigerator and then go outside and water your garden thoroughly. Enjoy the day while you wait for dusk to release your ladybugs because ladybugs do not fly at night. That, combined with the water that you have supplied, will guarantee they stay in your yard. By evening they will be very thirsty. Release them in several areas of your garden, close to plants that aphids tend to like the most, but also tucked away a bit so that larger predators won't spot them. Next morning you will discover your ladybugs already at work throughout your garden, finding their mates and preparing to lay their eggs right in the middle of an aphid colony.

Speaking of larvae, if you see a creature resembling the blue and orange one in the picture, don't squish it! That is ladybug larva about to munch down on a lot of aphids. The larvae or pupae may look exactly like this or may have more or less orange or yellow or more or less black, blue or purple. It may be a little longish or more roundish, but it will be very similar to the picture. The larvae will consume vast quantities of aphids for several weeks before entering its pupa stage for about a week, after which it will emerge as a brand new ladybug! Brand new ladybugs often do not have spots for several days, so if you see a plain red or orange hardshell that could be a ladybug if only it had spots, it probably is!

This is a welcome sight in any garden. It is a ladybug egg cluster. Note that it is on the backside of a leaf and that the eggs are slightly elongated and stand on end. Be watchful as you go about your garden so if you spot eggs like these, you will remember their location and be careful not to dislodge them.

Remember, aphids are a ladybugs favorite food!

Jeff - Age 5

2008-06-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

A little hand,
So soft and small,
To hang somewhere,
Upon the wall,
To watch the years,
Go flying by,
How I grow,
My hands and I.
-Anon

Spiders and Their Incredible Webs

2008-06-25T07:04:00.000-07:00

Spider webs are a work of art - magnificent engineering feats performed before our eyes by their determined creators. If a spider web is broken, it will be rebuilt within hours to exacting specifications. Spider webs in your garden should be celebrated, not vilified. Spiders are a first line of attack against the very creatures who would suck the life from your vegetables and flowers. Yet, look how they are maligned! Leave them alone and they will repay you many times over.

Spiders consume vast amount of aphids, flies, mosquitoes, earwigs, sow bugs, whiteflies, and any other insect foolish, or careless, enough to step into their web, including other spiders! Some spiders, such as daddy long legs do not build webs, but spend their days running around on the ground searching under leaves and sticks for their prey. One must be especially careful of daddy long legs, for contrary to popular belief, their legs do not grow back if removed and to cripple these gentle guardians of your garden is a great sadness. Please teach children to be kind to all living creatures.

Very few spiders are poisonous and those that are tend to be very shy. They do not seek out hands or feet to bite and will only bite when startled or unable to avoid contact. Poisonous spiders live in seclusion, preferring to be as far away from humans as possible. The one exception to that might be the hobo spider, which builds a sticky funnel-type nest on, or close to, the ground. Its nest does not in any way resemble the spider webs you see strung about your garden; however, there are other spiders that also build funnel nests so if you see that type of nest, it is most unlikely that it will belong to a hobo. In all my years of gardening, I have seen this spider only once. It is to be avoided as it can have a painful and debilitating bite, but panic is not the proper course to follow and please do not spray as these spiders most generally are taken care of by other predators in the garden and spraying almost always leads to an increase in the number of hobo spiders. Bear in mind that because a spider is big, it does not follow that it is a hobo spider, most likely it is totally harmless. Spiders tend to look very much alike, requiring an expert to actually determine what is or is not a hobo.

Basics - Brush Piles and Snags, Safety, Water

2008-06-24T06:32:00.000-07:00

Snags are dead trees left standing. They can be cut or broken several feet from the ground if they pose a falling hazard, but if you are lucky enough to have one in your yard that can be left alone, it will soon be teeming with life. In the forest these snags will often be covered with moss or ferns and are visually appealing. It seems that snags are nature's way of telling us that nothing should be wasted. Every kind of woodpecker will be attracted to your snag, as well as bark-climbing birds from the tiny bushtit to the brown creeper. A snag is a good centerpiece for your brush pile. Often, people like to keep their yards and gardens free of debris, dead branches, leaves, weeds, etc., and that is fine up to a point. It is, however, advantageous to allow a small corner of the yard to "return to nature" as this will become a sanctuary for small ground-dwelling birds such as spotted towhees and juncos and the young of every variety of bird as it is often weeks before they have mastered the art of flying. During this time, they are particularly vulnerable to predators. Your place of refuge will also become home to daddy long-leg spiders, bumblebees, and other valuable ground dwellers that would not survive in an immaculate yard simply because they have nowhere to hide from bigger bugs, birds, cats, and dogs.

My brush pile consists of a snag (and I realize not everyone is lucky enough to have an intact dead tree in their yard!), surrounded by various weeds, a low pile of cut branches and bushes, and a few old pieces of lumber. I supplement this with low dishes, usually just discarded jar lids or cracked saucers, which I keep filled with water during the summer months. A water supply is invaluable to the small critters that will take up residence in your snag/brush pile.

In addition to the small containers of water placed around my garden, I always have some kind of water feature. I enjoy building these from scratch. They do not have to be expensive or time consuming to make. It can be something as simple as a large bowl turned into a birdbath or a whiskey barrel turned into something more elaborate.
Here is a temporary "fountain" I made one year while I built a more permanent one. As you can see, it is just a bowl, about two feet across with some shells and rocks and a very small pump to keep the water circulating. circulating water will not freeze and will provide a place for birds and bugs to drink through a long cold winter. This tiny fountain was visited by hummingbirds, robins, finches, bluejays, and an occasional raccoon, and by the time I finished a bigger water feature, I had already attracted a wide variety of creatures to my yard.

In the lower right you can see a fountain I built for a friend. It is a 3-foot tall piece of stone with a hole drilled through it vertically that allows water to be pumped up and over the lip. There is a small depression in the top of the stone that creates a pool. Hummingbirds visit this very tiny pool almost nonstop all summer long to bathe and drink water. It was really a complete surprise to have them take over the fountain this way, a surprise and an absolute delight!

And here is my current fountain. This is simply a barrel liner buried in a hole. It takes some work, but eventually it does get done. This fountain is a focal point for every kind of wildlife and provides very nice water sounds besides. The small pump was less than $30 and has been running continuously for five years, even through 10 degree winters.

All of this can be part of what helps maintain an organic garden by attracting beneficial insects, frogs, toads and lots of birds, and eliminating the poisons that have a devastating effect on not only "bad" bugs, but all life and Mother Earth herself.

When I was ten, Grandma handed me a pack of Nasturtium seeds

2008-06-23T05:40:00.000-07:00

She pointed me to a patch of ground and set me free. I planted those seeds, watered them, and tried to sneak outdoors after dark to see if they were coming up. That was over 50 years ago and things haven't changed much. Even before robins start singing in early spring, my hands are itching to feel the soil, to plunder it for its richness and life, to plant a seed.

Over the years I have learned much about gardens, nurturing them and in turn nurturing all the wildlife that can and should abound in every garden. Everything contributes to the success of a garden. The sun and the rain we know about. Birds, snakes, frogs, lizards, toads, slugs and snails also have a place. And bugs.

Around 97% of all the bugs in our gardens are beneficial - that means either that they have as part of their diet other bugs or they are valuable as pollinators, or both. When we use pesticides, we kill the good bugs along with the bad. That of course wipes out a large part of our arsenal, but it also tends to produce a more militant strain of "bad bug." They develop immunities, become stronger and harder to kill. I will talk more about pesticides later on. I do not use them, never have.

All the pictures I use here are of my own gardens, past or present, none of which has ever seen the use of pesticides or herbicides. Occasionally I have had to start from scratch in a garden, undoing damage that years of pesticides have caused. The soil is often barren of earthworms, beetles, spiders - it's enough to make me cry! But even barren soil can be fixed - it just takes time and caring. If you have leftover pesticides or herbicides, there are places that will dispose of them. Here, in the Pacific NW, we have a very enlightened population and there's help on the web: http://1800recycle.wa.gov/

But what I'd like to do is start off by giving information about the basics of starting or maintaining an organic garden. There are certain rules that I adhere to, standards that include respecting the life that is already here, waiting to help you build a beautiful, nearly maintenance free, and certainly far less expensive garden, whether it be vegetables or flowers or a combination of both, which happens to be my personal favorite.

So tomorrow, The Basics.

Made in America - Homer Laughlin Saucer

2008-06-22T15:32:00.000-07:00

This is a saucer I bought at a thrift store years ago - it came to my attention recently while rearranging cupboard things. There is nothing special about this saucer - it's heavy crockery that might have belonged to a roadside diner.

Wait - there is something special about it. It was made in America. Notice that unlike most of the stuff we bring in from abroad, it contains no lead.

I've decided to spotlight the occasional item I run across in my own home that was made in this great country - back before we were sold out to become part of "The Global Economy," which simply means a few people make a whole bunch of money while masses of middle class workers in America watch their jobs (and their hopes and dreams) go overseas.

The Next President of The United States

2008-06-19T10:02:00.000-07:00

A Little Bit of Love

2008-06-18T23:03:00.000-07:00

They were so beautiful.
They didn't deserve
What they got.
They deserved a Love
So profound,
It would never
Let them down.

Nostalgia Cafe - Lazy Pie

2008-06-18T16:26:00.000-07:00

This was my kids' favorite dessert maybe thirty years ago, mine too.

It's called Lazy Pie because it's so easy to make, but it's not the sort of thing you'll find in any of today's "healthy cooking" cookbooks.

Preheat oven to 350. Melt in a casserole dish 1/2 cup of butter.

Mix together:

1 cup flour
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup milk
1 tablespoon baking powder

Pour into melted butter and this is important: DO NOT STIR.

Add 2.5 cups cooked fruit (canned that means) I prefer peaches, but any fruit will work: Do NOT stir.

Bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes to 1 hour (top should be golden).

It's done. LET IT COOL. I emphasize that because I am always tempted to dig in while it's still warm and then sorry when I do. This is one of those things that is so much better when it's cooled. Then if you want it warm, heat a slab in the microwave, drop a spoonful of hard vanilla ice cream on top and indulge yourself in wonderful.

Just for fun - My Pirate Name

2007-04-27T15:38:00.000-07:00

My pirate name is:

Iron Ethel Flint

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Like the rock flint, you're hard and sharp. But, also like flint, you're easily chipped, and sparky. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Look in the mirror

2007-04-19T14:19:00.000-07:00

Mr. Carter lost his humanity when he took this shot and then immediately left the area. I believe that is why he killed himself.

These words are not in judgment of Kevin Carter, for every day I spend dollars on that which I do not need while children starve half a world away. Every day I complain because there is *nothing to eat* meaning, not just exactly what I'm hungry for.

So, this reminder is for me principally; look in the mirror, see this child, try to complain about ANYthing at all.

http://www.oxfamamerica.org/

http://www.mercycorps.org/

Blue Man Group on Global Warming

2007-01-04T08:56:00.000-08:00

Your attention please. Thank you for choosing earth as your planetary vehicle. We hope you enjoy the many wonderful features of this planet, as you hurtle through the cosmos. Please note, that in the event of continued inaction in the face of global warming - your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device. Please take a moment to locate this planet's emergency exits. As you can see, there aren't any!

Nine Eleven

2006-09-11T05:27:00.000-07:00

Today, on its 5th anniversary, we are supposed to be remembering the victims of 9/11. Have we at some point forgotten them? That attack, which was not the first on U.S. soil, nor the last, is seared into the brain of every American and it is to the advantage of our president and his party to make sure it stays there. What we need to keep our wits about; however is not the event, but the aftermath. The media excess, the political campaign buttons. The current administration used that event to plunge this country into chaos. We were divided, intentionally I firmly believe, and we now hate, not only the terrorists, but each other. We have watched our freedoms dwindle, our savings disappear, our already tarnished world reputation turn into ash. We have put our generation and our children's future generations into a debt that will last many lifetimes. We have made a place in history that will be derided for time eternal.

As for those who were lost? They behaved admirably or they didn't. They were lost and their friends and families suffered that loss. It was a horrific way to die, but there are many horrific ways to die. We are watching some of them daily. Leftover landmines that blow the limbs off children; starvation in unconscionable numbers; genocide that seems of little importance, occurring as it does in oil-poor regions of the world; eradicated disease (eradicated in countries that can afford it); famine; drought. Do we turn our attention to those atrocities, that terrorism? Nope, not media gold, not exciting politics.

But wow, that Bin Laden! As long as he remains alive, he will keep the political fires burning. That's why (does this make sense?): Let's have a war in Iraq!! Let's destroy Iraq! Let's rain terror down on the heads of tens of thousands of innocent men, women, and children who had NOTHING to do with 9/11. Let's destroy THEIR lives forever (doesn't that make US terrorists?).

Now they ask us to "remember the victims of 9/11." How could we not remember? WE are the victims of 9/11.

Blue Jay

2006-08-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

He dropped a piece of thread on his way to the suet feeder out back. I didn't pay any attention as I was busy tying up a tall potato vine. Later on, I glanced down and saw something kind of purple and a little bit shiny and I still didn't pick it up. Then something about it caught my eye. It was familiar. I leaned over and looked. Turns out to be a thread over three feet long. It has shiny purple and turquoise bits of thread through it and is very distinctive and I know where I have seen it before. It's the thread I used to sew the quilt for my son's AIDs quilt panel. The panel was turned over to the Names Project in October 1996 and is stored there now with the other 45,000 panels, but that's another story really. What I am concerned about now is the thread.

All day long I have pondered that thread and each thought has led somewhere else, to a different subject with more questions. I will admit, for just a brief little while, the thought of why it showed up brought tears to my eyes, as there is no logical explanation for it. I do not use my sewing stuff very often, it has been possibly six months since I last opened the container. I never use it outdoors and that particular thread has only and will only ever be used on Ed's panel. There is a good rule of thumb I try to apply in cases like this, "don't look for answers where there are none."

So, I will mostly let it go. If there is a God, all questions will be answered in due time. Where the thread came from is so insignificant as to be almost laughable. There is, after all, the question of why a 31-year-old who had never harmed a soul gets to go through hell and then die. I presume God will answer that one also. The gut-tearing pain of those who love him will be answered or not. Does it really matter? Who are we to demand answers? Perhaps, I should say, to desire answers, for desire them we do. We want to know why and we have wanted to know for so long about so many things, that we have come to expect that there must be an answer.

Shortly before he died, by then a skeleton, almost not human, we were watching CNN - the shots of refugees trying to escape the genocide going on in their country and he said, "I am so ashamed." I thought briefly that he meant he had not raised his voice to protest this country's betrayal, but now I'm pretty sure he meant he was ashamed that he felt, perhaps for one second, afraid and sorry for his own death. It would have seemed to him selfish to be thinking of himself when there were those tens of thousands with nothing but hollow eyes and fear. He would have thought that then. He had entered into that space where all becomes clear. And I had not.

He said to me one day 3 or 4 months before he died, "I am not afraid to die." He looked at me and he said, "it is harder to lose someone you love than it is to die." For once in my life I understood instantly what was happening. He was trying to give me a gift with no strings attached, a gift I could carry with me until I reached my own grave, a gift I could choose to accept or let be. He attempted to alleviate my pain - this young man who was going through something unimaginable - he tried to leave me something priceless. And he did.

Eddie, I do not know who you were. But somehow, as every day unfolds in this life I have left, I think I have to thank my father for sending you. Surely you two conspired and I have messed it up horribly, or think I have. Will that someday too turn out to be something else entirely? Will I glimpse a clarity that will allow me to rest?

There go those questions again.

Previews of My New Home

2006-08-07T14:58:00.000-07:00

When you saddle a horse, I think you wait till he takes a breath and then cinch him up. That's kind of the way I feel, like every time I take a breath, someone cinches up and there's that much less room to breathe. Pretty soon the turning around space won't be big enough to, well, turn around.

Black-headed Grosbeak

2006-08-03T13:20:00.000-07:00

He is sitting there on top of the suet feeder - I am not much of a photographer; this guy deserves the best - he has a lovely voice and always sings a few notes when he arrives (to let me know he's here I think). His song reminds me of a poem, "...like a golden bell hung in my heart." It doesn't hurt that he is also a magnificent beauty. His mate has a lovely warble also, which I understand is common among the finches. She is not quite so brilliantly colored, her breast being more of a pastel shade of his bright tequila sunrise. His back is black with very bold white stripes and hers is more brown, sparrow colored, but she does have a very strong white stripe on her head. They are both about the size of a robin.

When I first saw this bird, I thought someone's parrot had escaped. Both he and his mate are somewhat elusive. While the nuthatches, chickadees, and woodpeckers don't seem to mind me being around, this bird prefers that I either stay very still or not come outside at all. They do not like sudden movements or noise. Still, I considered myself lucky to inch the screen door open and get this picture before he flew off. I lived here nearly two years before the Grosbeaks got bold enough to visit the bird feeders. Now I see them nearly every day. They are often the first birds in the very early morning and the last in the evening, with an occasional fly-by during the day to pluck a tasty morsel.

Why would anyone ever put a bird in a cage? It seems insanely cruel.

Ethics

2006-08-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

"Ethics, too, are nothing but reverence for life. That is what gives me the fundamental principle of morality, namely, that good consists in maintaining, promoting, and enhancing life, and that destroying, injuring, and limiting life are evil." - Albert Schweitzer

"The true rule, in determining to embrace, or reject any thing, is not whether it have any evil in it; but whether it have more of evil, than of good. There are few things wholly evil, or wholly good. Almost every thing, especially of governmental policy, is an inseparable compound of the two; so that our best judgment of the preponderance between them is continually demanded." - Abraham Lincoln

Everyone has been accused of something they didn't do. Usually it happens when you're a kid, but it has happened to all of us once or more than once. It feels bad. Mostly because the louder you yell, the more it seems like maybe you DID do it. Remaining silent, refusing to dignify a false accusation is more honorable - at least it feels that way, but doesn't always exonerate.

I wonder though, might it be a bigger sin, a greater failing to NOT be accused of something you DID do?

Postcard: TrueMajority.org

2006-08-02T09:29:00.000-07:00

Click on the link above. Listen, watch, think. What is this craziness and why does it go on? What kind of a world has been happening while we were taking care of *other* things? What is depicted in the link is the result of our country's greed and utter disregard, not only for the world, but for the desire, and right, of each of us for peace, health, education, and life.

Who are we really if we keep turning our backs on those who have no voice (read "money, power, position") and must suffer with what we have wrought?

Start making calls to your representatives. Write letters to your newspapers and your politicians. Make a difference in someone else's life. Start now, today. Go to your grave (hopefully in the far, far distant future) knowing that you have made a difference, that you cared, that you tried.

It may be the most important thing you do in your life and you may never see the result. That is the true meaning and blessing of giving and sharing, not the 35 cents you occasionally drop in a jar on a counter or the $250 you give to Mercy Corp - though please don't stop doing those things.

What we do for others, though it is difficult and may cost us in time, effort, and money, is more important than any kind of material or personal success we are lucky enough to find in our lifetimes.

The Land of Beginning Again

2006-08-01T09:27:00.000-07:00

"I wish that there were some wonderful place

Called the Land of Beginning Again

Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches

And all of our selfish grief

Could be dropped like a shabby old coat by the door

And never be put on again." - Louise Fletcher Tarkington

Those words are excerpts from a poem I discovered in high school. Whatever was going through my head about those words then is a mystery to me now. Something entirely different than what I am thinking these days.

There have been so many people to forgive, including myself. In so many ways that has been the hardest part of all. It is an ongoing process - a few steps forward, a few steps back. A constant battle of judgment, redemption, accusation, bewilderment, and precious moments of peace.

The ability to forgive is, in my estimation, the most important lesson we can ever learn. It has the power to bring health and healing to hearts, minds, and bodies. It has the power to bring us back "to the land of beginning again." It is, however, oh so difficult to master. The words, "forgive me, I forgive you, I forgive myself" are so very easy to say, but they are only just words. They bear repeating over and over. They need reevaluation, reassertion, and the touch of a hand. They need to be repeated out loud, and silently to no one who is there.

When an offense insinuates itself into your awareness, those words need to be used to beat it back to nothingness, for the offense is now gone in fact. It was provoked out of selfishness, confusion, ignorance, maybe even fear. There can be no explanation, there needs be no explanation other than life is what it is.

Forgiveness heals the giver and often, only the giver. It is all that is necessary, though it is a monumental task and may require a lifetime. The idea of forgiveness should always be close by. It is necessary for a peaceful death. It is necessary for a graceful old age. It is required of us before we can pass to generations the knowledge we have stored up for them. Practice it.

There never was a reason

2006-07-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

It was a lie then and it is a lie now. The parents who felt it necessary to believe, or what reason for their child to die? The wives who saw their dreams evaporate in thin air. The children who woke up and had no daddy. It was a lie then and it is a lie now. We can stop it. Only we can stop it. Life is 100 years give or take a decade. Ten years to play, to feel safe, to learn love. Ten years to grow and learn and plan for life. Ten years to fall in love and marry. Ten years to raise a family, to plan a future. Ten years adds up pretty fast, one right after the other. Yet, we let them steal it from us and the words they use; patriotism, freedom, dignity, security, way of life. All those words are down the drain the moment that soldier knocks on your door and says, "I'm sorry . . ." They aren't coming home, your son, your daughter, your husband, your wife, your father isn't coming home. Life stops at that moment and it never really starts again.

Those left must struggle with the questions, must make up the answers. There are no answers. War is good for the economy. Unless of course, you happen to be in it. Unless your child is in harm's way. Where do you go? Where do you run to? where is a safe place? We see the pictures, day after day, running from the war, the wives and children, the old people. Their homes are gone. Yet the band keeps playing, men in suits keep shouting patriotic phrases, blue stars and gold stars go up in windows everywhere. They mean nothing. They mean someone is shooting at your child, husband, father.

It means nothing. Hero means nothing. For someone to be a hero, someone else's child must die. Short of their alloted 100 years, give or take a few decades. Just time to build one small ravine in the Grand Canyon, or contemplate a smear under a microscope. Just time for the spinners of lies to weave another reason why. Ask them. Are their children in harm's way? Are they? Do their wives wonder if they are ever coming home? Do their parents think of all they have saved and hoped and dreamed of for their child? Will he be a taxi driver, will he find a cure for cancer, will he write a poem, will he sing, will he dance, will he fashion thoughts and ideas, will she be president?

It is all a lie and we are all sheep. We follow, sometimes willingly we shout their lies with them, sometimes we wonder, sometimes we protest. But it is not until we lie down and do not move that they will know. Stop. Stop it now. Life is for every soul living, for laughter, for building a home, for courting, for smiling at children, and petting the dog. Life is for every one of us. Life.

Contemplate instead the unimaginable richness of life were the resources now dumped into death and destruction instead used to bring us all together, to assure that no person goes to bed hungry, in pain, or in fear of tomorrow. Think of it - imagine it! Imagine.

No Bravery

2006-07-23T08:43:00.000-07:00

Click on the link above and then wonder. . .endowed by our creator with certain unalienable rights. . . and the pursuit of happiness.

And the right of powerful countries with enormous resources to kill you for no reason whatsoever.

Bye-Bye American Jobs

2006-07-21T02:49:00.000-07:00

After reading the article in the above link, I thought back and remember quite clearly riding in the back seat of my uncle's Hillman fifty years ago. It was a small bit of a car and it hardly used any gasoline at all. Of course, it was from Japan, kind of a rarity at the time. There were mostly big American cars and trucks back then, many sporting bumper stickers that said, "Buy American." Snicker, snicker.

I don't pretend to understand the global market much better now than I did then, but I do understand one thing. We are getting screwed. Corporate America is raking in the bucks and we are paying for it dearly. Oh if only we had all paid more attention to those bumper stickers.

This situation came painfully home to roost for me in the last few years. I had returned to work after my son's death in 1996 and found myself becoming more and more unable to cope with the job and my grief. I quit my long-time job with Boeing in 1999. Five years later, after living on my retirement and also losing much of it in the stock market fiasco of Bush's regime, I needed to return to work. I wanted to work from home as I still did not feel able to cope with the commute and dealing with lots of people around me, so I chose a *profession* that I felt would interest me a great deal, as well as take advantage of my typing and language skills. The added benefit was that I could do it at home. The profession was medical transcription. This course is offered at Everett Community College and can be taken entirely on line and paid for by a student loan from the government. I did ask the school if a person of my age could hope to obtain a job after completion of the course and was assured that oh yes, there are lots of jobs out there.

I took the class, enjoyed it tremendously and did very well. I also became indebted to the tune of several thousand dollars.

It turns out I asked the wrong question. The right question would have been, "will I be able to support myself on the lower-than-minimum-wage money that I would be making?" Of course, I didn't realize at the time it would be less than minimum wage, but they don't tell you that at school. You think you may have to cope with some ESL docs (English as a second language, accents ranging from light to heavy), but that, surprisingly, was not the biggest problem. They don't tell you that you will be competing with a growing monster in India and the Philippines. These people are being trained (although you are never told that your work is helping train them), likewise, you are never told that they get the *normals* the docs who can be understood, the docs who enunciate and do not speed talk, slur, exercise while dictating, drink, drive, drug, all while dictating YOUR medical records. Then you find out that medical transcription is being offshored just as fast as they can do it. Your doctors, your clinics, your hospitals are all pushing for this. They don't care about your records and who sees them. HIPAA? What crap. The bottom line is the only thing that counts. Your medical records are shipped overseas, seen by people over whom there is little, if any, control of privacy, and sucking American jobs right "off shore."

Everett Community College, as well as a plethora of other medical transcription schools are still graduating students by the thousands. Why? Because they can. Yes, there are jobs, but since you are a newbie, you will get bottom dollar for at least three years. Will someone else support you that long? Good for you. You will be required to produce thousands of lines a week in order to retain your job. Most of the time, you will be hired as a independent contractor. Why? Because then the employer does not have to pay ANY taxes. You do. That is 15% and you had better get that saved first. Also, you will never qualify for unemployment or workman's compensation. Of course, any benefits will be paid for by you. Let's say you are making 6 cents a line. Do the math honey. Then there is voice recognition, for which, if you are lucky, you will make 3 cents a line. This is doable if only you have a decent connection - I'm talking about your employer's ability to deliver static-free transmissions every day with no *server down* errors. If only you didn't have to fight carpal tunnel, back pain, knee pain, no vacation, no sick leave, no employment security, and no help from any union ever. The unions have no interest in you, neither do you qualify for the same protections other employees have in your state. You are not an employee and you will be extremely lucky to ever be hired with that designation. If you are hired as an "employee," you will be required to perform at an nearly unachievable level to maintain that designation. You are only paid when your fingers are on the keyboard. You will be expected to provide either DSL or cable, hundreds of dollars worth of resources, headphones, wav pedals, various software, and your computer must be maintained at your expense. Remember, every moment you are not typing, you are not making any money. Need to go to the bathroom? Not getting paid. Need a cup of coffee? Not getting paid. Have to get up and stretch? Not getting paid. Forget ergonomics, forget moving your eyes from the screen to protect your vision, forget getting off your ass to protect yourself from deep vein thrombosis, forget resting your hands, arms, shoulders, back. You are not getting paid when you are not typing. That doesn't sound all that bad until you start figuring out exactly what it means. These points are never touched on by any schools.

So, on top of all that, enter offshore workers primarily from India and the Philippines, and you have competition that you cannot beat. They will press you more and more to do voice recognition work, which is basically editing the mess that either voice recognition software has produced, or one of the thousands of non-English-speaking *medical transcriptionists*. They will want to pay you half to less-than-half of what you get for straight dictation and voice recognition work is very difficult. Many transcriptionists think it is even more difficult than straight transcription. Why? Because you have to pay extremely close attention to both the voice and the printed word so as not to miss any error, particularly in dosages, medications, or diagnoses. The offshore workers are earning so little money (compared to what they would have to pay you - big salaries though for THEIR countries) that the companies are making huge profits from medical transcription, even though they must also hire American transcriptionists to clean up the mess of this offshore work.

I worked for three companies in a year and a half. Focus Infomatics (a company owned and operated from India with connections in the states that never hint as to their ownership) - the company I hired on with had an entirely different name (Rider and Associates operating out of Oregon) who never once explained that they were owned by Focus and that we would be working for an Indian company whose main concern was training people in India to take over our jobs. Then I went to MedQuist. On the MT boards, easily one of the most talked about and despised medical transcription companys in America for their underhanded and dishonest treatment of their workers. Medware, the company I last worked for, is exactly the same, even while being touted as "Employer of the Year" by AAMT. AAMT professes to be for transcriptionists. Most transcriptionists understand that AAMT is for transcription companies. Furthermore, they advocate off shoring medical dictation. Medware's ads state "consistent work." From Thanksgiving 2005 until after New Year's 2006, there was virtually no work, or their server would go down many times a day, sometimes for hours (remember, not getting paid when fingers not moving, even when it's the company's fault). One time, they said, don't worry, we will pay for this downtime. Uh huh. I got $8.75 for being down all day long. I have the paperwork to prove it. I have the paperwork to prove how they misreported time so that it looked like they were at least paying minimum wage. I finally threw in the towel when after being *requested* to work the two days I would normally have had off, and then reporting in for my normal shift after working those two days, there was no work. "Oh, the Indians must have taken it all. They aren't suppose to do that." Right. That really helps pay the rent. I lost my temper and was fired for "insubordination and lack of respect." I thought insubordination was NOT doing something you were requested to do, and I wonder, who disrespects who? I worked very hard and very long hours for them, did everything they asked, suffered through two months (over Christmas no less) with virtually no paycheck, and they demonstrated a total disregard for me or my work and a very cavalier attitude when I would nearly beg them for work. My transcription has never been less than 98% accurate, usually over 99% accurate; I can produce 1000 lines a day given even minimally decent dictators and server connections, and I have a very strong work ethic.

Offshoring. Bush says it's good for America. I wish someone would explain that to me and the thousands of other American workers who have spent their lives paying taxes, working hard for "the American Dream." What a joke. It's good for American big business, not good for America. Now I am out of work again, in debt to the tune of thousands of dollars, finding it difficult to get another job or even some kind of training that I don't have to pay for.

Offshoring. Illegal aliens. I believe everyone has the right to a job, but that also includes my own right to work, my own right to not have my survival eroded by other countries and my government's need to curry favor in the eyes of other governments at my expense.

Wake up to these words

2006-07-16T16:35:00.000-07:00

My breasts aren't as important to me as they used to be now that I'm no longer breast feeding or in competition for the attention of sexual partners. However, they are mine - ALL mine - and when they misbehave, it attracts my attention. Any female who has ever had a period, a child,or entered menopause understands that occasionally our breasts will be a source of discomfort. It's usually a hormone thing and although it sometimes lasts for several days, it is part of life and so we adjust and accept.

On Thursday last, that would be July 13, 2006, I noticed some slight discomfort in my right breast. It piqued my curiousity because normally this discomfort would be felt in both breasts, not just one. It was a lovely summer day and I am an avid gardener so I ignored it and continued with my weeding. On Friday, the breast was bothering me a bit more. I noticed pain in my nipple when my arm brushed my breast or when my shirt rubbed against my nipple. This was annoying, but there was also something in the back of my mind trying to work its way to the front. Something I had heard about a kind of cancer that is often overlooked, but which can be deadly. I looked for information at http://www.breastcancer.org/ , http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/ , http://www.komen.org/, and http://www.ibcresearch.org/.

It turns out, the kind of breast cancer I was trying to think of is inflammatory breast cancer. A very scary prospect. By the time I had read until my eyes felt like two white onions in a martini, and my mind was stuffed with images of some very unfortunate looking breasts, it was late Friday night.

Saturday morning I appeared at the local walk-in clinic the moment it opened (it appeared there were other folks with the same idea - they must have camped out overnight). In any event, I only had to wait about an hour and a half before seeing the doc. Let me interject something here; the doctor was young and drop-dead gorgeous. When he walked into the exam room, I nearly got up and walked out. His manner was very professional however; which went a long way towards overcoming my reticence (and AWE!) about exposing my, let's just call them *mature* breasts. Besides, I was scared.

The doctor examined me very carefully; I have a lump beneath the aureole of my right breast and it is inflamed. Inflammatory breast cancer has symptoms that mimic mastitis. The doctor gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and asked me to make an immediate appointment with my regular doctor for follow up. Today is Sunday. It is another beautiful day and I have enjoyed it tremendously. An added treat; the little mobile home I rent is on 20 acres of woods and across from my front window is a large meadow. Into that meadow this morning came a doe and her fawn, a sight that is quickly vanishing from this once rural environment. The peacefullness of a doe grazing in a meadow is a fine gift for me. The lesson is not lost.

It was a moment of happiness descending without notice. I thought of the many times someone I knew had to go in for a biopsy and my response was, "don't worry, most of the time there is nothing there." I will never give that response again, for even though true, that moment is not lightened by reassurance, it needs only an arm around the shoulders and silence.