The news is still broken

Night before last the suspect in the lumberyard arson case escaped from the county jail He happened to follow the escape route left by another prisoner. This was the second escape in about a week for the second prisoner -- previously he was one of three who escaped and were recaptured at a motel about six blocks from my house. Upon the recapture of the three, they were returned to the jail in lieu of $1 million bonds.

The arson suspect was being held on many counts and his bond was $200,000 on the eight original charges in connection with that case. He had just bonded out on some other counts the day before the arson was committed, so the bond was revoked on those counts. In other words, both of these guys are SUPPOSED TO STAY in jail.

The day of the arson's suspects initial court appearance, I went to court to watch. I wanted to see this punk up close. It was a real family affair for him that day. The two juvenile accomplices had their closed hearings that morning. One of those was his 16-year-old brother.

His 24-year-old sister also was on the same docket on three or four counts of her own. They were brought to court separately and sat facing each other. Other family members came to the courtroom and attempted to sit near the two but the jail custodian stopped them and told them to get back and sit on the back row.

That day in court was a good day to watch justice in action, as another "frequent flyer" appeared on new charges on his long rap sheet. The previous weekend he had been involved in an arrest in which he tried to escape and physically assaulted an officer. A lot of stolen property was discovered in his 91-year-old grandmother's garden shed. Unfortunately, she refused to help officers with information and got to spend some time in the back of the police cruiser for that bad choice. Of course they later released her, but that punk should be ashamed for involving her in his hot mess.

Somehow one of my co-workers happened to make it to the scene with his camera while the fracas was going on and got photos of the struggle and then of the officer's scraped-up arms where he tackled the punk. There's one great photo which shows a muddy footprint on the top of the officer's shoulder where the punk tried stepping over him to run.

The arson suspect was recaptured last night about 6 p.m. while I was in a public hearing about a mile away. Now if they can locate the other jailbird who got out of the cage, I can breathe easier.

Speaking of the public hearing: The Oklahoma Department of Environmental Quality held a public hearing on the issuance of a permit to operate a leachate pond at the city landfill. This is a common practice and is a step in every single landfill project in the state. This is for the expansion of a cell at the landfill, which has been operating since 1977.

What makes this a difficult situation is that the landfill is located directly across the street from a tribal cemetery (Ponca tribe). It is also within 500 feet of the Salt Fork River, a tributary to the Arkansas River. The confluence of the two rivers is nearby.

The tribe originally approved an agreement with the city to allow the city to use the site of a former quarry as the landfill in 1977. They are saying now that the agreement was to restore the quarry to level ground.

Now, however, 30 years later, the landfill is a 30-foot mountain rising above the level of the surrounding land. And it is growing taller daily. The landfill has polluted the groundwater in the area as well as being an eyesore. The landfill continues to operate even when tribal funerals are taking place.

The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is doing a combined environmental health risk assessment on this area to study the various contributing factors which may be polluting this tribe's community. The landfill is one of a half-dozen or so contributing risks.

Sadly, the last full-blooded Ponca died in the last year to two years. His well was tested and was found to contain a laundry list of carcinogens. The river, which is a stone's throw from the cemetery, contains toxic metals and other chemical and has been shown to be unfishable. But the tribe is dependent on subsistence fishing from the river.

Members of the tribe spent about two hours presenting their comments to ODEQ last night and the record remains open for additional comments until July 18. Many referred to the landfill as "environmental genocide." They also challenged the Angelos, as they call us, to locate the landfill in the northeast quadrant of the city, which is in the 20 wealthiest zip codes in Oklahoma.

I didn't understand the full scope of the problem until after the meeting. My co-worker who has been a friend of the Poncas for years needed a ride home because he had a flat on his car (had to take a taxi to the meeting.) He asked if I was in a hurry or if I had time to run out and take a look at the site. I'm glad I agreed to go and got an honest look at the land. I'll have to go back with my own camera to show y'all the situation, but honest to God, the landfill is a disgrace to us all. Where once these people had an unfettered view of the prairie, that is now obliterated by this "monument" to garbage. You can get a real understanding of how threatening this is to the area, especially the river, and how this is crushing the culture and spirit from the Poncas.

Those who know the history of the Poncas' forced removal from Nebraska to north-central Oklahoma will understand why members of the tribe say that this is yet another example of the Seventh Calvary's attack on a sleeping peoples. The ancestors of this community were forced here on foot. Learn more by studying the history of chiefs Standing Bear and White Eagle.

And stay tuned. One thing certain about news is there's a new story every day. And because of that, I am pondering creating a new companion blog which will focus on the daily local news. More on that anon.

The Pursuit of Fun

Several things have converged over the past few days to get me thinking about the nature of "fun."

I've realized I can't quite honestly remember the last time I could say, in all certainty, that I was having fun. Not that I haven't -- surely we can't go for long periods of time without SOME fun, right? I hope. But I'm kind of caught up in figuring out the nature of FUN.

Is it something you can intentionally decide you're going to have? I have a blog friend who has made a resolution to have at least three minutes of fun a day. I get her point, and understand that we have to take care of ourselves and enjoy our lives. But man, is planning fun the way to do it? Is three minutes a day our daily minimum requirement of fun? And how pathetic are we as a species that we have to "work it in" to our daily lives?

Second, how do you recognize fun? Is fun a matter of laughing? Is it finding humor in the ordinary life around us? Is fun something more concrete and less esoteric than humor? Similar but different?

Is fun the absence of other things? For example, is it the absence of control by another? An absence of scheduled requirements, like working? A lack of pressure to achieve someone else's goals?

Is fun a matter of serendipity? Do we just stumble across it now and then like an elusive bird? Aha! There it is! Oops, no, now it's gone again.

Is fun an activity? Do you "have fun" in the same manner that you "make love"? If so, why do these things sound so much like work?

What do you consider fun? Is it something that generates from you, or do you find fun in the midst of others?

Is fun the same thing as relaxing? Can taking a nap be fun? Is reading fun? Or is there a set of prescribed activities that define fun?

What's fun for you? When was the last time you had fun? Do you have fun every day? Do you meet your daily minimum requirement of fun?

Is fun different than having a passion for an activity or interest? If you are passionate about your work, does that make it fun?

Tell me what you think! And ... have fun doing it!

Please pray

Please pray for our friend Frenzied Feline from Life Happens. Her family has received bad news on a couple of fronts involving cousins. I know your support, emotionally and spiritually, is needed now and will be appreciated. Thanks, friends.

What's been going on

The best thing that's happened recently is that Tech has awarded me the Arte y pico award, for “those who are creative or have a penchant for art.”
Tech received the award for his wonderful blog, 51313 Harbor Street. If you haven't visited Tech at his place, please do. He is an accomplished writer of novels, plays, poetry and blogs. He's also a great human being with a wonderful sense of humor and can say without reservation that my life has been enriched because of him and his blog.
I am humbled that he would nominate this blog for the Arte y pico award.

In return, I wish to nominate the following five blogs for the award:

Frenzied Feline at Life Happens (When You're Planning Something Else). I've "known" Frenzied for years through this great invention called the Internet. She is a whole-life artist and tells great stories about her family, life in California and her incredible church service. How she has the energy to do all of this, and do it so well, is an art in and of itself!


Ree at The Pioneer Woman. She has several blogs under the umbrella of her site. Ree is an incredible writer, photographer, cook, wife and mother of four children. Her blogs are outstanding works of art.

Alicia at Posie Gets Cozy. Alicia, I have to say that you have produced not only the most beautiful blog I've ever seen, but also the most beautiful life. Your incredible personal story, your creativity, your photography and writing -- heck, your whole beautiful life is the stuff from which my dreams are made. If I could wave my magic wand and have the life I dream of, it would be yours, living in Portland with a man like Andy and a precious doggie like Clover Meadow or her auntie Audrey, the beloved. Seriously, cheers to you and thank you so much for giving me the vision to believe that happiness can be created, even when life throws rocks.

Kuky at Kuky Ideas. Oh what a funny, loving woman! Her drawings/cartoons are sweet and funny and adorable and are the air I breathe some days. She's not posting as often right now, but I hope she can return soon. She is so creative and has such talent in so many areas. I'm glad I found her charming blog. You should all read it NOW. Just because it will make you feel happy to know people like Kuky are out there adding to the universal goodness.

Laurie at Crazy Aunt Purl. Another fabulous, funny writer; not only does she produce a hilarious blog about her life with her cats, but she's also recently published "Drunk, Divorced and Covered In Cat Hair, The True Life Misadventures of a 30-Something Who Learned to Knit After He Split." The book is funny, sad, heartbreaking and victorious, as is Laurie. I can remember when I first started reading her blog about her hand-knit hats. Now look at her, a star!


And here are the official award acceptance rules:

1. Pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also for contributing to the blogging community, no matter what language.
2. Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog.
3. Each award winner (upon acceptance) should show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award.
4. Show the link of Arte y pico blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.
5. Show these rules.

***

And now, back to my mundane life:


It seems like I've hardly had time to breathe since the fire I posted about previously. I hope to post some more photos of that in the next post just for your entertainment.
As it turns out, the fire was set. Three young men (the oldest is 18) were arrested in connection with this and a laundry list of other things that have been happening here. The fire is estimated to have caused $1 million to $2 million in damages and wiped out a business that has been there for almost 40 years.
The day after the fire I helped my minister and his wife move to Oklahoma City. Their U-Haul truck came from the business that burned. The plastic tag attached to the key was melted from the heat of the fire. It's fortunate the truck keys were in a separate storage building next to the business.
Sunday after the move, I played a piano concert between services at my church, the first in the new welcome center addition. The weather was extremely bad that morning with heavy rain and winds up to about 60 mph. Lo and behold, as I was getting ready to play, drip. Drip, drip! Right down my back and onto the piano from our brand new skylight. I moved the piano to an area without a skylight and notified the building committee so they can have that checked.
That afternoon I played in a handbell concert that was a fundraiser to help rebuild the music program of a United Methodist church in Newkirk, OK. Their church burned several months ago and all of their instruments and music burned. Their handbells melted. This will be a small step to helping them cope.
That Monday was an incredibly long city commissioners' meeting at which the city budget for the coming fiscal year was passed, as was a controversial spay-neuter ordinance that has been on the table for several years. This is probably the single most argued issue since I've been here.
Other highlights of the week were an arrest of an Israeli national by the Department of Homeland Security, the arrest of the suspects in the building center fire, a state historic preservation meeting held here.
Honestly, things have become a blur, there's been so much happening. Much of it wouldn't interest people outside of my town -- probably wouldn't interest everyone here, either. But what can I say? It keeps me off the street most of the time.
Weather has been rather harsh too, with flooding rains and high winds often.

But what about those hours when I'm not working? Well, I've made a mid-year resolution not to spend money on anything but the essentials -- utilities, food, gasoline for getting to and from work, and other absolute essentials. Here's my post from E.R.'s blog ( Erudite Redneck. He had asked how we were coping with increasing fuel costs.

I've had to limit my out-of-town trips because of fuel costs. And I'm seriously considering walking to work when weather and schedule permit or getting a bicycle.
I'm doing like you -- making the cuts from my food budget, intentionally not shopping or buying anything but necessities (even cutting back on some of those like medications because I just can't afford to refill scripts until payday.) I live 10 blocks from work; it's cheaper for me to go home for lunch than to eat at one of the few choices I have in walking distance. Plus that gives me almost a full hour to relax in my own house in the middle of the day.
I go to the farmers' market on Tuesday afternoon and Saturday morning to make the food dollars go the best place possible and I'm growing my own herbs because it's cheaper than buying them in the store. And I'm making my own bread more often, with flours I've bought from local millers. Small changes, but it adds up.
Oh, and I have not watched TV in a year, so I do not have cable. I go to the library instead of the bookstore and I have decided that there's nothing on video worth renting (because I was collecting late fees.)
I'm working more hours (more than 50 a week) so I don't have time for much in the way of recreation.
When I moved here, I intentionally bought Energy Star appliances, including low-water use front loading washer and dryer. And I have nothing but CFL bulbs through the house.
The biggest thing, though, has been a Mid-Year Resolution not to make any purchases except for essentials for the rest of the year. I'm trying to limit that to groceries, prescriptions and things like toilet paper, shampoo and deodorant. Anything else will have to go on a list which will be evaluated at the end of every month. If it's still something I want/need after a waiting period, I'll consider it more seriously.

It's a shame to have to be so tight-fisted, but I'm making about a third of what I did during my previous full-time employment. I'm now making exactly the same number of dollars that I made when I worked for another small newspaper 22 years ago! That certainly does not take normal inflation into account, not to mention the sharp increases in fuel and grocery prices we now face. It's hard to be in this situation.

Hey Y'all!

OK, I'm slow to catch up, but it's been a difficult stretch with all KINDS of things going on here.

Instead of trying to give you a complete run-down now, though, I want to offer you some tasty soup to help soothe your souls. I just made this myself tonight and give it two-thumbs-up, lick-the-bowl-no-one-is-watching rating.

I made this with some of the produce I bought at the Farmers' Market this week. So far I've made it to every sale, which is early Saturday morning and then again on Tuesday afternoon. It's a small operation with maybe a half-dozen to a dozen local producers bringing in baked goods, jams and jellies, veggies, eggs, cut flowers and plants. You'll see some homemade soap and decorative gourds as well. It's whatever happens to be ripe or ready the day of the market, so shoppers start here then fill in what they are missing at the grocery store. I surely do wish someone would have tomatoes soon!

Anyway, here's a great recipe for Potato-Leek Soup. You may not think it's soup season, but even though it's hot out there, this soup is light enough and satisfying enough to make me happy. Give it a try, and visit the farmers in your area to help support local agriculture and agribusinesses!

INGREDIENTS

* 1 cup butter
* 2 leeks, sliced
* salt and pepper to taste
* 1 quart chicken broth
* 1 tablespoon cornstarch
* 4 cups Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced
* 2 cups heavy cream

DIRECTIONS

1. In a large pot over medium heat, melt butter. Cook leeks in butter with salt and pepper until tender, stirring frequently, about 15 minutes.
2. Stir cornstarch into broth and pour broth into pot. Add the potatoes and bring to a boil. Season with salt and pepper. Pour in the cream, reduce heat and simmer at least 30 minutes, until potatoes are tender. Season with salt and pepper before serving.


Notes -- you could blend this at the end to puree it to a smooth consistency, if that's the way you roll. I smushed it up with my mom's old potato masher so it still has some texture to it.

This recipe is great as is, but feel free to doctor it up to suit yourself. It seems to be very forgiving of slight differences in the measurements, so don't sweat it if you use slightly less than the quart of chicken stock or the two cups of cream. Use what you've got handy. It's all good!

Excuse me now, I have to go put away the leftovers. I could swear there were some leftovers... somewhere ...

Hot time in the city

It has been nonstop crazy since last Friday. At 4:14 a.m., to be exact.

My coworker called me then and woke me from a deep sleep.

"Can you smell it?" she asked. I heard sirens, which had almost penetrated my dreams in the way that we incorporate external stimuli into our dreams. Once I was awake enough to comprehend the question, I smelled the smoke she referred to. More confusion.

"What's going on?" I mumbled.

"The lumberyard is on fire!"

Lumberyard? There's no lumberyard in my yard. My brain strained to make sense of her words. Did she mean Lowe's? That's way out north, away from these sirens that were screaming past my house. Or the other place up north. I couldn't pull the name out of the smoky air.

No, it was a lumberyard/building center on the south side of town, maybe 3/4 of a mile from my house.

"I'm picking you up," she said.

Within 10 minutes of her call I had pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt I found at the top of the pile on the floor and we were on the scene of this:



More to come when I get to work. I'm running late. Suffice it to say NOTHING has slowed down since then.

Finally Friday

I'm trying hard to give all of you a gently-measured dosage of blogging. I know you -- if I got back up to full speed, you would gorge yourselves to the point of making yourselves sick. So, I'll watch out for you and carefully get your systems built up.

(Yeah, yeah.)

How are you all doing with the transition in seasons? I can't believe we're right on top of Memorial Day and practically into the summer months! Our spring was just unusual, I think. The oppressive heat has abated and come back, kind of moving in on us in waves. We're starting to see the heavy thunderstorm season. Last night I stayed up late and had my front door open so I could enjoy some cooler air and the sound of rain. A little after midnight, though, that rain turned torrential and the air started swelling like heavy seas. By the time I battened down the hatches and went to bed, air was whistling through the cracks around the back door and the house was groaning. I could feel the roof struggling to stay firmly attached to the house.

This morning on the way to work I saw a tree that wasn't able to hang on quite as well. Half of a huge tree blocked the street a block from my house on my route to work. It was hung up on the utility lines and virtually filled the street from curb to curb. Impossible for cars to get through, but one lone biker was able to make it through by gliding along the far gutter over the tips of the limbs. I think I would have been too concerned about puncturing a tire on twigs and sticks to try it myself. At lunchtime, I noticed they had gotten the bulk of the mess out of the street, but there were still a lot of scattered leaves.

Since I had to take a detour anyway (oh- but of course I took a photo of the tree for work!) I picked up breakfast for everyone at the office. Friday always seems to be a good day for us to gorge on breakfast around here. I'm not sure I'll be able to continue doing that though, as it doesn't exactly align with my doctor's orders...

I almost hate to write this out loud, but ... shhh! Don't say it!! You'll jinx it! I have a quiet!! three-day we said HUSH! weekend! That gives me one day to clean house, one day to go to Tulsa and one day to recover and lolly-gag like a Woman of Leisure. Oh, how I need this! I'm too old to be working six days a week routinely. I really, really am.

School is out as of the end of the day. Even though I don't have kids, it's still a good thing for me as one part of my job is being the education editor. This last week has been a bear with all the schools having their "end-of-the-year" programs and parties and other activities. Graduation is tonight. Next week's page will be slim pickin's I'm afraid. I may wind up just doing a photo page. We'll see.

Here's a question for you — how are you handling the higher gas prices? I'm traumatized, but honestly my driving is pretty minimal. I will be cutting back. On days when the weather allows, I'll consider walking the 10 blocks to work. I looked at a Honda Elite scooter the other day. It sure was cute and I was tempted to go pay the $2,000 or so for one. It is something to consider, but there's not a local dealer and I did some reading on message boards. Reviews were kind of a mixed bag. Good milage and cute, but not much pep. There's a definite load limit on what they can handle.

Hey, it's Friday! Go make some fun weekend plans!

Whoa, Baby! It's Two-fer Tuesday!

Don't faint and don't get spoiled, but here you go with a second post for this fine Tuesday. It's something I was going to blog last night if I had not fallen asleep at the late hour of 7 p.m.

The season changed yesterday, rudely and abruptly. We've been rolling along with a cool spring and then BAM yesterday shot up into the 90s. I had made a pledge not to turn on my air conditioner before June 1, but I gave it up yesterday evening after I came home from the grocery store and it was 86 degrees in the house at 6:45 p.m.

Here in the land of floor furnace and window units, it's a big deal to change seasons. I had already been living with the heat thermostat set low, but even so have had blankets and a quilt on the bed for cooler nights. Turning on the main window A/C in the living room requires the assistance of a steak knife or thin screwdriver (last night I appropriated a steak knife) because the face plate is just ever so slightly cattywonker and won't allow the "off" button to pop back out unassisted when you try to push a cooling button. So I've learned the secret of the A/C surgery routine and in return was greeted with a face full of dust blowing full force once I accomplished my mission. Hey, it's part of the transition.

Today, of course, the high returned to the 60s. I came home for lunch and had to shut the machine off again because it was cold. Don't know why it didn't dawn on my this morning but I can only plead grogginess. Since I crashed so early, I woke up for a couple of hours in the middle of the night before I could return to slumberland just in time to get deeply, deeply asleep in time for the alarm to go off.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate waking up to an alarm? Actually, I have to use a combination -- an alarm followed 15 minutes later by an annoying station on the clock radio. Around here the annoying station part is simple. Anything that's played within the range of my radio is guaranteed to be annoying, pretty much 24/7. I cannot get the NPR station from the university 40 miles south of here. It's almost enough to trigger a psychotic break. Hey, maybe THAT'S what happened! Intriguing theory.

I also had to fill my gas tank today. I've been putting it off as long as possible, hoping to make it until my check hits the bank tomorrow, but fortunately I did have enough to go ahead and fill it today. Just barely. My little Civic drank up nearly $40 -- undoubtedly the most it has ever cost me to fill Ruby's tummy in the 13 years I've had her. It almost made me cry. One of my co-workers and I have about decided to start walking to work on days when weather and work schedules make it practical. My problem is an irregular night schedule with a lot of evening meetings at City Hall. I'm just not all that comfortable with walking home from there after dark, although it's only a few blocks on the main street and most nights would be safe enough. Problem is, I read the police logs every day and I know too much about the wacky and crazy things that can happen at that time anywhere in town. And we have our share of town characters who wander randomly and may act inappropriately. Still, on days when I can walk in the daylight and the weather cooperates, I may start hoofing it.

The other alternative we've talked about is riding bikes. I'd love to get a touring bike and I think it would be fun to ride it to work, provided I had a safe place to park it while I'm at the office. Somehow I don't think they'd appreciate me parking it next to my desk. I wonder though - I promise I'd get a really pretty pink one! With a basket! And I'll put flowers from my garden in the basket. Do you think I could convince them it's really just a mobile vase? Hmmm.

I'm toying with the idea of buying a tiny camera that I can carry with me for fun. I have a Nikon D70 SLR digital with a couple of lenses, but the bag is just big enough and bulky enough to be kind of a drag. And I haven't had the time to go on many (read that: any) weekend adventures since I've been here like I used to. I'm considering one of the tiny Canon Elph cameras. They come with a huge number of megapixels these days and the cost is very reasonable. I've looked at a few and a friend at work showed me his today. I'd considered one of the Sonys but he said they aren't very good quality. It'll probably be a while before I have enough free cash to seriously consider the purchase so I have plenty of time to study up on it.

Oh hush. I can hear you out there saying "I think she's only writing to keep from cleaning up more in the living room." Smarty pants. You think you know everything now that I've revealed my love of the Rita music. OK, OK. One more time on the CD and then to bed. We'll see what I can accomplish on the third playing. No matter how much more cleaning I get done, Rita's good therapy nonetheless.

Be seein' you around.

You know what's good?

I'll tell you what's good. Putting a Rita Coolidge CD on the boom box (specifically: The Best of Rita Coolidge The Millennium Collection from 20th Century Masters); cranking it up and belting out songs like "Long Ago and Far Away;" "All Time High;" "Loving Arms;" and "I'd Rather Leave While I'm in Love."

Oh nostalgia! It hurts SO good. I'm playing it through a second time now as I go about a little purging and house straightening. EXCELLENT for that purpose because the music can carry my mind back waaaay far into the past and I can wail and cry the blues away while I rock out. Do you have any idea how many old magazines you can throw away in that state of mind? A TRUNK FULL! And they aren't even MY MAGAZINES. These are magazines that the previous owner left stashed away in a closed cupboard and I just never had the emotional strength to deal with her mess on top of my own. That is until RITA came to my rescue tonight.

Rock on! More later, folks. I'm mulling over a LOT of stuff tonight while I purge.

Sick

I've been in bed all day. Fever, coughing, leaking head. Was up for an hour this afternoon then crawled back to bed. I've been up for a few minutes now to get water and check around the internets to make sure I was still sort of alive. Will be returning to bed/nest shortly. Will try to refrain from groaning.

OK, Fine

Apparently NOBODY is reading things around here any more. What am I going to have to do, start doing give-away contests? Fine and dandy, Andy.

Stay tuned to this station. As soon as I find something worthy of giving away, I'll post my very first contest. Meanwhile, though, won't somebody please say hello, at least? There's an echo in here!

Haiku

As a nod to my deep cultural roots, please allow me to share my newly discovered favorite Haiku of all time (sorry E.R., this has bumped you out of first place for the moment. Please post yours in the comment, though, because I would love to re-read it. And yes, this is a test to see how long before you read this and reply.)

Please also remember that I am probably one of the few 53-year-olds who still has a yen to rollerskate.

And now, courtesy of Bill Slowsky, the turtle from ComCast, whom I just discovered today because I do not watch television:

In what world is it
Okay to wear rollerskates?
Take those off your feet.

Red Dirt icon leaves his mark

Music legend Bob Childers, 61, known as the Godfather of Red Dirt music, was remembered Saturday morning in a memorial service as someone who loved people and lived his music.
He died Tuesday at his home in Stillwater.
More than 150 mourners overflowed the chapel at Trout Funeral Home. They ranged from music executives to bikers who arrived wearing leathers, from cowboys to Indians, from hippies to rednecks and from young to old — in other words, Childers’ friends.
Those who loved Childers were as eclectic as the sounds which formed his Red Dirt music — a mix of folk, rock, country, bluegrass, blues, western swing and honky tonk, with even a few Mexican influences.
The Rev. Guy Fox, pastor of Kildare Baptist Church, chose three scriptures which reflected Childers’ life: John 3:16; I Corinthians 13:13 and Romans 8:35-39. All three passages speak to God’s love, reflected in Childers’ life.
Childers, who was born in West Union, W. Va., was given his first guitar by his parents when he was 16.
“This was his life,” Fox said.
Childers had 12 albums which were devoted to the themes of love of God and other people, Fox said.
“I could feel his concern and love for other people and heard it expressed in his music,” Fox said.
The pastor said Childers’ health problems led him to focus on his own spiritual needs.
“His life is a testimony for us to examine our own lives,” Fox said.
Music from “Restless Spirit” played as mourners gathered. The three-disc tribute, produced in 2004 to help defray Childers’ medical expenses, is a compilation of more than 50 of his songs.
Chris Maxwell of Binky Records in Baton Rouge shared his memories of the project.
“Four years ago when Bob’s health began to slide we did this tribute record and asked musicians to donate a song. The songs started coming and just didn’t stop. We wound up with more than 50 songs,” Maxwell said. “Bob made one request: ‘Please don’t cut anyone off this record. They just mean too much.’
“There was no greater love than what Bob had for his sons and music.”
Others, including one of Childers’ brothers, described him as a storyteller.
“Bob was special in a way,” Mark Childers said. “He lived every day. Every day was an experience and every experience was a story. Many years ago we were in a booth in the Blue Room at the Ponca Bowl and he was telling stories about San Francisco and hitchhiking. I saw a poster on the wall above him which said that sometimes we don’t realize how much of ourselves we owe to the people we love.”
He then played one of Childers’ songs, dedicated to sons Zack and Jesse, called “My Daddy.”

“My Daddy was a guitar-playing man.
He climbed high on the mountain,
he laid down right on the ground.
He drank from the living fountain.
All I know’s he made a soulful sound.”

Childers frequently performed at Oklahoma City’s Blue Door and was a fixture at “WoodyFest,” the annual Woody Guthrie Folk Festival held in Okemah. He also had a five-year run as narrator for “Ribbon of Highway,” a touring show of contemporary performers playing Woody Guthrie songs.
Known as one of the best country-folk songwriters, Childers studied music in the 1960s at the University of California in Berkeley. He traveled extensively and in 1972, while traveling through Stillwater, he discovered the music of Chuck Dunlap.
“California had the money and the reputation, but Oklahoma had the magic,” he later was quoted as saying.
By 1978 his music came to the attention of musician Jimmy Lafave, who now lives in Austin, and a lasting friendship ensued. With Lafave’s help, Childers recorded his first album, “I Ain't No Jukebox,” in 1979.
Childers traveled to Nashville in 1986, where he released two albums, and was followed by several other Stillwater musicians, including Tom Skinner and Garth Brooks. That same year he also traveled to Austin, where he released another album. He returned to Stillwater in 1991 where he concentrated on writing and added to his catalog of more than 1,500 songs.
His songs appear on seven compact discs, including the seminal Red Dirt classic, “Nothin' More Natural,” featuring "Woody's Road,” his most famous song.
He is survived by his parents, Howard and Rhea (Gaskins) Childers of Ponca City, two sons, Zach and Jesse Childers, two brothers Mark Childers of Ponca City, and Paul Childers of Waynoka, and one sister, Ann Thorpe of Ponca City.
He was preceded in death by one brother, David Childers.
A musical tribute will be held at 2 p.m. Sunday at the Blue Door, 2805 North McKinley Avenue in Oklahoma City.

Here are a couple of Childers' songs to give you a sampling. I love them.

Don't Be Afraid

Burnin' Still

Hello again

I hope everyone has made it through Tax Day. I dragged my mangy hide into H&R Block yesterday to do what had to be done. I will get a refund -- it's almost enough of a refund to pay H&R Block for doing my taxes for me.

Next year I will be able to do them myself again. No more self employment nonsense, so I won't have to pay my own SS taxes. Another nice thing about working for da man is getting your taxes withheld each check so you don't have to cough up a lung to pay IRS.

If things go as I expect (not necessarily "as I plan,") I might be able to do a 1040 EZ again next year. I like it simple like that.

Now, let's talk about something considerably less pleasant...

It's been a very hard week or six. One co-worker and I have practically killed ourselves working much too hard. I can't even think of all the hard stories we've done. What I can do to give you a feel for things is this: On Tuesdays we fill out our time cards, from the previous Wednesday to Tuesday.

I planned to leave at noon today because I already had so many hours in. I was going to leave as soon as I wrote two huge stories about the city commissioners' meeting last night. It was closer to 1 by the time I wrapped things up and started logging off the computer. Had I left at noon, I would have had 58 hours in. And that's what I put on my time card.

Well, no sooner had I logged off than the traffic on the police scanner started going crazy. My co-worker and I just stopped and looked at it like it was this crazy little being talking nonsense. We couldn't wrap our brains around what we were hearing.

There was a woman standing in the middle of the street next to the back drive of the police department with a gun. She fired a shot in the air to get the attention of officers on the drive. One of the officers radioed in to the communications center. Several times they told the woman to drop the gun and she did not. Instead, she turned the gun on herself and shot herself in the chest.

I turned to my co-worker and said "Let's roll." (No, I don't use that expression.) I grabbed my camera bag, notebook, purse and pens. A handful of pens. She grabbed the keys to the company Honda and we RAN.

The police department is about five blocks from our office. The ambulance crew was still getting the woman into the ambulance when we arrived. I recognized all the officers on the scene from a training exercise a couple of weeks ago.

When the woman shot herself, all the officers happened to be gathered in the municipal courtroom on the first floor of the police station. They all immediately hit the back door and had the scene taped off within seconds.

The last I heard the woman is still alive, in stable condition. She was transported to a hospital in Wichita, about 70 miles from here.

By the time I was finished with my reporting I had to add another couple of hours to my time card. I've spent my time since then thinking about the officers who were confronted with this human tragedy today and hoping they were debriefed well. I think about how the PIO called the chief to fill him in and hearing her scream "LISTEN TO ME. IT'S OVER. IT'S ALL ALREADY OVER" as I stood next to her, then hearing his car screaming to the scene seconds later.

I think about how this is not the worst thing I've covered in my career, bad as it is.

And I think about all the things I've complained about piling up on me this week, and how I am having a hard time now remembering what they are.

Funny how incredibly important they seemed a few hours ago.

Happy Birthday J.T.!

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday old J.T.,
Happy birthday to you!!

And many moooooooore!

(hee hee)

Time for a New Post? Okie dokie!

Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday old Trixie,
Happy birthday to me!!

And many moooooooore!

(hee hee)

It is indeed Good Friday

Today is Good Friday, March 21.

Last night I went to the Maundy Thursday service at my home church, where I was baptized in 1972. It was a joint service of the four United Methodist churches in my town. My minister, from the "large downtown" church I now attend, did the homily. It made me weepy, knowing that he will be leaving the ministry in a couple of months.

We had a joint choir as well, in which I sang. It has been about 35 years since I last sang in that choir loft but it felt like home. The song was a medley of "Be Still My Soul" with "You Raise Me Up."

Tonight I returned for the Tenebrae service. I felt so much love in this old church -- so many people still there whom I knew in my late teen years. There was a young family sitting behind me with two toddlers who were noisy -- obviously a distraction for many of the old folks there. I was trying hard to ride it out and was doing pretty good. All of a sudden one of the little ones was crawling beneath me, pushing through my legs! Mom slipped up behind me and whispered "I am SO SORRY." I just turned and told her not to worry. Jesus himself wanted the little children to come to Him, so tonight of all nights was not the time to be sending them away. Sure, the service is always "very nice" when it is observed in the intended silence and solemnity. But life is messy and loud and unplanned, despite our planning. Later, at the end of the service, Dad came to me also to apologize. I took his arm, looked him in the eye, and told him it was OK. They belonged there too. I know many of the older people wish the nursery had been open, but you know, we all survived fine.

Last night, there was a man in the mixed choir that I immediately recognized. Balding, with a white goatee, but I still knew him and asked him to tell me his name to make certain. It was a man who is on a waiting list for a heart transplant. The last time I saw him, I was in high school and he was one of the kids in the children's choir that I taught. I taught him the song he sang as his first solo in church. When I heard about his heart condition after moving back to town, that song immediately flooded my soul and I have sung it often as a prayer of intervention for him.

Tonight we walked into church at the same time and he asked me what the name of that song was. I told him, and then sang it to him. (This is soooo totally unlike me to just start singing to someone I hadn't seen in 35 years. I can't remember ever doing it before.)

Here are the words:

He Held Out His Hand to Me

Like a child in the dark,
I was so afraid
Looking over the mess
in the life that I've made.
But the Lord saw my fear
and He heard my faint plea,
And He held out His hand to me.

Who am I that a King holds His hand out to me?
Who am I that He gave up His life for me?
But the Lord saw my fear
And He heard my faint plea,
And He held out His hand to me.

*************************************
He started smiling and singing with me on the second line. We were both smiling, but had tears in our eyes. I knew he hadn't quite remembered me last night, since I am a few years older, but tonight -- tonight I know he knew me.
**************************************

My car is still in the shop being repaired. I now expect it to be finished on Monday. There have been delays in getting a door that will work and then in getting the trim pieces. So I still have the new rental car. I miss my car. I will be glad to get it back.


May God bless each of you this Easter as we celebrate His resurrection!

I must have been gone too long

It seems I've lost my readers. That's OK. I'll just keep writing and you can catch up when you check back. Boy, will you be surprised when you get here and see how much reading you have waiting for you!

Sorry I was gone so long. But I like surprising you every now and then by just popping back into the blogosphere.

I played hooky for a few hours this afternoon. I had to get a haircut and could only get an appointment this afternoon. And while I was at the salon, I impulsively decided to get my ears repierced.

The first time I got my ears pierced, I was 29 years old and was spending the summer in New York City while I was on a fellowship at United Features. One day I was walking past a luggage shop and they had a sign in the window that said "Ear Piercing." So I walked in, stood in the middle of the store, and they pierced my ears. It was one of the boldest things I had done to that point in my life, if you don't count spending two months in New York City alone, with no place to stay. But it opened the door to a barrage of other adventures. Permed hair. Shopping. Spending the Fourth of July on Long Island, at the beach, with strangers. Getting burned to a crisp. Watching the fireworks from the East River that night. Lunching with New York Mayor Mario Cuomo and the 1984 U.S. Olympic Team at Tavern on the Green. Going to the release party of a new analgesic called "Advil." Writing about the 1984 presidential campaign. Serializing a book for Shari Lewis. Writing about acid rain. Writing trivia quizzes for the first "videotext" services, to introduce people to the idea of reading and shopping on computers, through this thing called "the internet." I didn't invent it, but I did provide some of the first content for it!

Anyway, that's what was happening the first time I got my ears pierced. Over time, I became lax about wearing earrings. Life wasn't nearly as exciting as it was in 1984 after I came back home to Oklahoma.

And things are even less exciting now that I'm living back in my hometown. So I needed to shake things up again. I wanted to be able to wear those earrings! And who knows, there may still be some interesting encounters and some choice work for me to do again.

Universe, I'm ready! Just let me get my earrings in!

(Oh yea! I also wrote a section in the 1985 World Almanac on the environment. A former coworker sniffed and said "just one?" I said "YEAH! ONE! How many did YOU write?")

It's Official!

Now I can tell you about the great new project I'm involved in! I've just spoken with the project's founder and finalized our agreement.

I'm the new chairman for the Oklahoma Chapter of ConKerr Cancer: A Case for Smiles. This is a project that provides cheerful pillowcases for children with cancer and other life-threatening illnesses.

Even before getting the last details in place, I have received a stack of pillowcases from women here who have already taken on the sewing with gusto! There is also a school int he Oklahoma Panhandle where each student is making a pillowcase for another child, and I'll be receiving those as well! This network is springing up almost without effort -- a sign that this is a good project that will do well.

There will be photos coming soon, and more information. Here is a link to the National ConKerr Cancer site: ConKerr Cancer. The site explains more about the project, how it came about, and how large it is growing across America.

Any Oklahoma sewists who would like to contact me about this state project may e-mail me at ConKerrCancerOK at gmail.com (address split to prevent spambots from harvesting this address. I need to keep it spam-free, please!)

This is a project that takes little effort for the great benefit it provides -- a lot of bang for the buck, so to speak. Imagine being a child who has to go to the hospital frequently. It might be a small thing, but wouldn't it make you happy to receive a bright, colorful new pillowcase every time you had to go in? Some kids, unfortunately, get quite a collection. But isn't it a small investment for us to make to ease their discomfort just a bit?

Expect to hear more from me on this... I'm very excited about getting it going!

Very Cool Discovery

Man, I wish I could tell you how I stumbled across this great find. It was through a blog connected to another blog ... you know how that goes when you go snooping through peoples' links to find new sites.

ANYWAY, it's a great discovery for those of us who appreciate the history of the domestic arts. The University of California Libraries digitized The Chicago Evening American Cookbook for Microsoft. It is alternately titled "A Book of Practical Recipes for the Housewife."

The whole book is available, free, to anyone on the internet. I'm sure there are other such treasures so shared, but this is my first encounter with one that I cared about.

I am a collector of old cookbooks. I have more than 150 of them and precious little space for my collection. I need to thin the herd, but I cannot part with the REALLY old ones -- the one my grandmother got as a wedding present nearly 100 years ago, the World War II vintage books that include sections on cooking with rationing coupons, my great-aunt's World War I vintage ledger with her recipes written in pencil in her own hand.

This Chicago Evening American is such a cookbook, written with the assistance of 13,000 women. Here, from the acknowledgments:

The pages which follow were compiled
with a view to supplying dependable
recipes.
Grateful acknowledgment is hereby
made to more than 13,000 housewives,
ready and willing to contribute their
favorite recipes and thereby help to
make this Cook Book possible.
-- Chicago Evening American

I'm trying to find some publication date, but have not yet succeeded. I know this has to be a later publication than some of my older books -- I'm guessing c. WWII perhaps, because it does have actual oven temperatures included in SOME of the recipes, rather than just references to "hot" or "moderate" oven. An online newsletter from the Culinary Historians of Chicago suggests the book was published in or before 1948. Perhaps. There are instructions for pasteurizing milk and the like, but still plenty of recipes that include raw eggs. Ah the good old days! And there are several butter substitutes included that no longer are available.

If you have an interest in the history of domestic arts, take a look at this online book and enjoy! Maybe it will help you remember what it felt like to visit Grandma's house, or the activity that went on in ladies' homes just before the bridge club arrived for cards and treats.

Here's the link:
Chicago Evening American Cookbook

This and That

OK, it's been a while. I know you have all missed me terribly!
So here's a catch-up post. I'll try to do better at posting more often.

First, my car is still in the body shop. I called just before closing time yesterday (Friday) after taking it in on Monday. The guy had just gotten the driver's door. Apparently he checked out four salvage doors, none of which was acceptable, so he got me a new door. Let's all say "woot!"

This was supposed to be a six-day repair. When I took it in, he said he hoped he might get it to me by the end of the week. Obviously that did not happen. They'll install and paint it Monday. I'll just be patient until they let me know it's ready. I've got a Chevy Cobalt as a rental. It's a 2008 --it's OK, but I will be very happy to have my own 13-year-old car back. The Cobalt is bright red but doesn't have much in the way of accessories. I miss my car, with its power locks and windows. And it's MY car.

OK, so that's the car.

I had company last night. My best friends from the OKC area (rural Jones) came up for a wedding at the Marland Mansion. Cliff was in the band for the reception (the wedding was for the daughter of a fellow band member). While they were setting up, Anne and I were able to go to dinner. Service was INCREDIBLY SLOW. Good thing she just got a salad and I just got a quesadilla. No telling how late she would have been to the wedding if we'd ordered something that took any time at all to cook!

They had discussed spending the night with me so I made my bedroom guest-ready. The rest of the house was decidedly NOT company ready. I still struggle with this house. Anyway, after the wedding, they came by and had decided to go ahead and drive home because her mother was coming to visit this morning and they thought it would be easier on all of them if she awoke them when she arrived, rather than them rushing to get back this morning to meet her. We had time for a good visit before they hit the road, but I worried about how tired they were. I'm glad they were traveling together so they could make sure they stayed awake on the way home.

And of course, that meant I got to enjoy the company-ready bedroom myself! I guess it was a fair trade for not having their company for longer. Now that spring is here I hope to see more of them, either here or there. I've missed them and all my other Oklahoma City friends a LOT.

I wound up working today for a few hours. Working six days a week IS NOT FUN. I hate not having much of a life. GROWL. I took a long nap when I got home to help my lousy attitude. It only helped some.

Someone on one of my message boards raised an interesting question which I pondered for several hours today. The question is: Do you think that modern life is faster, more stressful, and expensive than it used to be in your life?

The immediate response is "Duh. Yeah!" But as I am wont to do, I took off on a tangent with this, turning over a lot of thoughts. I even took off and went to the cemetery to "visit" my mother and brother. I also stopped by to "see" my friend J.T.'s mom, nearby. While looking for her, I literally stumbled upon my next door neighbor from my childhood, who, coincidentally, is next to J.T.'s grandparents. (Weird, huh?) Anyway, a lot of thoughts came to me while I visited with her.

I'd say that I now understand that I have immense choice in how I live my life. Although I feel more like a "big city" woman than this "small town" girl now, I understand that here I can have the best blend of things -- for now. It does not have to be forever. When I am ready, I can choose changes.

But here I have the technological advantages of being connected to the world, combined with relative peace (at least outside of work. I can't control the office.) I have the ability to live a simpler life using fewer of the earth's resources. I can continue to make my contributions to the Greater Good in valuable ways. My circle of influence is not defined by the city limits.

What I worry about here is not so much the worship of abundance, but the decay that comes with reduced incomes, drug use and loss of hope in a community. Yes, the desire to "have everything" does still exist here, but drug use, domestic violence and child abuse are the big factors I see at play. Those are the things I would change if I had an hour with the Magic Wand.

In my time this afternoon with Mrs. Reinking at her grave, I knew that some things remain the same in value -- time spent with family and neighbors, the importance of a sense of home and a high-quality domestic life. It became ever clearer to me that a lot of those values were instilled in me by her -- cooking, sewing, quilting, baking, hosting friends. Those are not throw-away values as some might think.

I'll continue to do more pondering. But one of the practical things I have to deal with now is a mess in the garage. While I was doing laundry last night waiting for company, a huge bottle of the high-efficiency laundry detergent fell off the washer. The lid came out and I now have a lovely blue lake on the floor of my garage. I can't get to the washer OR the dryer without cleaning this up first. I guess I'm going to have to take my tea towels out there to mop it up, then use them in my next several loads of laundry so it doesn't all go to waste entirely. GROWL.

Hey, one good thing this afternoon: I went to Blockbuster and got a card so I can rent movies. I still don't have television, but at least maybe I can watch SOMETHING for entertainment!

In other news: I am sadly disappointed and angry about events at my church. The staff-parish relations committee has asked that a new minister be appointed at my church at the end of this church year, which will be June 1. This is a record in my experience in the United Methodist Church, since he and I arrived at this church at the same time, in June, just nine months ago. I have admired him and found him to be an exceptional minister who was tossed into a difficult assignment. He walked into a church that was in the midst of a massive rebuilding project, which contributed to declining attendance and finances. These were issues that were not of his making.

I have walked out of several gatherings over the past several months when church members started gossiping about "setting that man straight" on this or that imagined slight. One of the hot buttons that I found totally ridiculous was a raging complaint about changes in the church bulletin. Lord, help us.

There is a good chance that I will find it necessary to move my membership to another congregation, but I plan to stay as long as the current pastor is still here.

More next time on a new project I'm taking on. It's a good one... so come back soon!

Congratulations, E.R.!

Congratulations to blogging buddy E.R., on his first-place award in a professional awards contest. He and the other winners celebrated in fine style at a newly restored hotel in the downtown metro area last night. Way to go!

Hanging in there -- kind of

Thanks for your notes. It's been about five days since I've felt really well. I am guessing I've been plowed by the Norovirus -- the fancy official name of the stomach bug. Some days I'll start feeling better, and I'll take a chance and eat something. And that can be a serious error in judgment!

I've not gotten much sleep -- this thing seems to like to attack me in the wee hours of the morning, and with a vengeance. So, interrupted sleep, lack of food, lack of appetite, lack of energy -- makes daily life a little more difficult.

There's nothing that can be done medically, so I guess in a day or so this will have run its course and I can start recovering. I left work early today to try to get some rest, and it was nice actually getting to sleep for a couple of hours this afternoon.

One thing I worry about is how it all affects my blood sugar. I've tried to keep some sick day supplies on hand as recommended in the diabetes education classes, just to keep from going completely haywire.

Last night I covered a police department appreciation dinner -- the chief had invited me and gave me a free ticket for the dinner. I have a lot of respect for the department and was happy to cover the dinner. It was a great meal, too, but I could only eat a small portion and still paid for it all night. They had ham -- one of my favorites. And it was a HUGE portion. Oh well, can't win them all. I was happy with what I could manage, for a while. LOL.

Anyway, enough of that. I still haven't gotten my car in to get it repaired. I'm making myself a note to get started on that tomorrow. The insurance company part is all taken care of. I just need to take the car in to have them see what work they have to do, then schedule a time for them to do it and a rental car during that time.

I'm also planning to go to Tulsa on Saturday to meet up with some old friends from my previous handbell choir at a bell festival. And I'm thinking of renting a car over the weekend for safety's sake -- don't want to risk having some hidden damage become suddenly apparent on that trip. Ideally, of course, my car would be in for repairs and I could just have the car over the weekend while the insurance covers it. Is my luck that good? We'll see... But weekend rentals are not horrible at any rate, in my experience.

I'm happy to report my schedule this week has not been as heavy as last week, when I worked 55.5 hours (another half hour would have made 7 work days!) I guess I picked the right time to be down sick.

I'll be very happy when the weather starts to get milder. In another month, we should be getting our first hints of springtime weather. I have great memories of flying kites on St. Patrick's Day. Boy, would that be fun!

OH! Speaking of fun -- my fun assignment yesterday was covering the opening of a new playground at one of the elementary schools, built by the PTA parents and community volunteers! Wow! Talk about excited kids! I was up taking pictures from the top of the fort, and a preschool girl grabbed my hand and said "Teacher, you need to slide too!" So down we went, together, on the double-wide slide. Wow, was it fast! I think I aggravated an old tailbone injury though, as we came to the end. I didn't realize it until I was trying to get out of bed in the middle of the night.

Here are the kids saluting the volunteers who built their playground:

Dropped Out

Today was a drop-out day for me. I have not left the house and don't plan to this evening.

I've been hit with a stomach virus the past couple of days and have lost most of my energy. I had to work yesterday, and I was able to have dinner with JT last night, which was very enjoyable. But that's all I can manage until I start feeling better.

I've slept late; I've read a little. I heated up a frozen box of something or other just so I could say I tried eating something. And I'm trying to get some laundry done.

My house is a pigsty, and so it will stay for a while, despite my best intentions. I can't even believe it's almost 6 p.m. on Sunday. I wish I could just jump up, do a load of dishes, vacuum and dust and scrub and pronounce the house clean. Yeah. I'd need Samantha Stevens' nose to do any of that, nice as it may sound.

Guess I'll head out to the garage to see if it's time to do the laundry flip-flop yet.

I hope you all are feeling better and more energetic than this. I'm just glad it's not what I'd call the full-fledged flu. I keep saying I refuse to get it -- no matter that 2 of the 9 people in my office have already succumbed and a third is likely down for the count too.

A prayer

Make us what you will, Lord, and send us where we are to go. Let us be vessels of silver or gold, or vessels of wood or stone; as long as we are vessels of honor we are content.

If we are not the head, or the eye, or the ear, one of the nobler and more honorable instruments, then let us be the hands, or the feet, as one of the lowest and least esteemed of all the servants of our Lord.

Lord, place us in your kingdom in the roles you have designed for us.

Lord, make all of us your servants.

In exalted places, or humble places.

Let us be full; let us be empty.

Let us have all things; let us have nothing.

We freely and gladly embrace our places in your kingdom.

(from the Wesley Covenant Service)

Bad night

I think I totaled my car tonight.

It was about 9:30 p.m., and I was driving home after a meeting in the university town about 40 miles south of where I'm living. I got within about 10 miles of home when I hit an icy bridge and lost control.

I think I hit (or probably nearly hit) the left side of the bridge. Then I spun and hit the right side of the bridge squarely with the front of my car. I bounced off it, and was facing the left side again when I stopped, only to see the SUV that was behind me spinning out and basically repeating my path. I knew it was going to hit me, so I turned my head to keep from tensing up as it approached. No sense inviting pain, I figured (or not. I didn't have time for conscious thought, but I know I didn't want glass in my face if the window broke.)

In a few seconds I felt the collision. When I looked back I saw that she had hit me with the butt-end of her car. She had made a 180 in the few seconds I wasn't watching. When she hit me, we both wound up facing the way we had just come, and somehow or other I was in front of her at this point, off on the far shoulder.

I grabbed my cell phone and reached a police department in another town; I was able to give the dispatcher enough info about our location that she was able to get the Highway Patrol there in just a few short minutes.

The trooper had me get in his car with my license and insurance. He wanted to know if I wanted him to work the accident or just do a report for insurance. I didn't know what the "right" thing was. He said, Well, if I work it, you'll probably be the one to get a ticket." I asked why, since it was caused by ice that wasn't apparent to any of us. He said "Because none of these other cars is having a problem driving across the bridge." OK, right after we collided, a third car also hit the bridge but kept driving. And lo, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, two more cars collided right in the same place. When I got back in my car, just as he was returning my papers to me, two more cars collided. He told me I could go, and I said I would, just as soon as it was clear for me to turn around. He said "I thought you were southbound." NO, trooper, I was northbound. That's what I've been telling you. The ice -- the spinning.... He corrected the report. And crash, two more cars collided.

I headed north, and at the far end of the bridge (the end I hadn't made it to yet) there were two more cars down in the ditch with big hunks of bumpers or fenders or something on the road. And here came another car which promptly bounced off the bridge right as it passed me.

( got another quarter of a mile and there was ... you guessed it, two more cars that had collided.

It was NOT a good night. I felt blessed that I was alive and that my car was still driveable.

It is a 13-year old car with 153,000 miles on it. I expect the insurance company will total it. Just at first glance, though, most of the damage seems to be confined to the driver's side door and the front bumper. I'll have to have it checked for other damage, of course.

The SUV had a broken tail light. And that driver's license was suspended.

I'm fine. I feel no pain at this point and the adrenaline shake has stopped. It's nearly midnight, and I might be able to sleep in another 30 minutes or so.

Funny. On the drive down I was just thinking that I'm sure not in a position to get a different car just now. Guess I might have to rethink that, like it or not. I sure have loved this car. I got it for my 40th birthday and it has served me so well.

Yahoo!!!

I just found two big plastic bags filled with my favorite winter clothes -- one bag of just sweatshirts and sweat pants; the other my very favorite sweaters! I've been wondering where they were. Turns out they were "hiding" in my "spare" room/office/reading room/Lord help me! space.

I'm so happy! This is better than Christmas or going shopping, because I already know I like all these things! Yahoo!!!

I Am Diabetic

I had been planning to do this essay about being diabetic, but hadn't had time to set up and shoot the photos. In response to Tech's comment on my bread-making post, however, I've gone ahead and gotten it together.
Tech's post about diabetics limiting bread was not mean-spirited. We're in this battle together, so it was definitely a thoughtful question. Of course I promptly told him to shush it, because, well ... I like bread.

However, I don't want to imply that I'm careless enough in my diabetes management to disregard sound nutritional advice. Quite the contrary. Tech and I have both gone through diabetes education classes which are very intense and cover a huge range of information. One of those areas is nutrition, of course, and we learn how important it is to control (not eliminate) carbohydrate intake.

I am allowed seven servings of carbohydrates each day. Each serving is equivalent to 15 grams of carbs. Learning what a "serving" is is an ongoing education. I learn to read food labels. Other people may be watching fat intake; I have to watch that AND carbohydrates.

So, no, I don't want to give you the impression that I ate the whole thing last weekend when I made that great loaf of bread. I did not. Granted, I did not treat it with scientific precision when I did eat it. I guesstimated, and I knowingly overdid it, a bit. I enjoyed a splurge.

It would be one thing if I splurged on candy bars. Or potatoes. (Potatoes REALLY can send my blood sugar sky-high faster than candy!) But this was good-quality, whole grain, fresh bread with no preservatives, which I made myself. I did eat it with some moderation. I even have some left, if you can believe it.

OK, so what DOES being diabetic mean in practical terms in my daily life?

The biggest thing is that I test my blood sugar every day. Or nearly every day. There are times when the day is over before I get it done. That's OK. I still keep track of it several days a week, and I try to test at different times so I can see what might cause my numbers to be off track.

Here's what this new health routine looks like. Don't worry, I'll warn you before we get to anything that might make you queasy.

This is my testing kit. It includes my meter, a bottle of testing strips and what I call my "poke 'em stick." Other people call it a lancet. There's also a pocket that holds a log book so I can write my numbers down and study them over time.


Here's the meter. You can see it fits nicely in the palm of my hand.


Here is a test strip. It's some sort of a hard plastic which has a capillary channel through which the blood activates an electric signal. Somehow there's some hocus pocus built into this thing which lets the meter know how much glucose is floating around in my blood. Cool, huh, that a little thing like this can tell us so much.


The test strip goes into the top of the meter, turning the meter on.


Now comes the poke 'em stick -- er, lancet. It is spring loaded -- I draw back the trigger, and when I place it against the heel of my hand, I push the trigger and it launches the lancet. You big burly types that get faint at the notion of b-l-o-o-d may want to put your head between your knees right now and scroll past the next couple of photos.


I use alternate site testing -- what's that? It just means I do not stick my fingers! I'm so lucky to live in a time when finger-sticking is just one option for diabetic testing. I test on the heel of my hand, where there are lots of capillaries, and it does not hurt one bit. I promise you, I hardly feel it. No pain. This is good.



See? It was done in less than a second. Now I have a teeeeeeny tiny drop of blood on my hand, and I take the meter and the test strip to the drop and let the test strip siphon it into the meter. (Actually, the blood stays right in a tiny area of the test strip, probably less than 1/8th of an inch long, where all the electronic wizardry happens.



See? Not bad.

OK, guys, we're through with that. The machine counts down, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and then it tells me what my blood sugar level is.

LOOK!! It's good tonight. My level is 122, before I eat supper. I like that number.



I really like it because it was "eat like a Barbarian day." I had a huge and nutritionally improper breakfast, but it was cold and I was whiny and we ordered out at the office and I went to pick it up out in the cold.

And then at lunch we had submarine sandwiches. I ate mine without the bread, just snacking on the protein fillers. Plenty of yum, zero carbs.

Here's another component of my health care. I take a diabetes drug called Metformin. One pill, twice a day. It's a $4 prescription at Wal-Mart, for which I am truly grateful.


So there you have it in a nutshell:
1. Count carbs and eat a well-balanced, studied diet.
2. Don't eat the whole loaf of bread, even if you really like it.
3. Test blood sugar daily.
4. Take medication as prescribed.

In addition: Drink lots of water. This is really important for diabetics and is really good advice for everyone who is a human. Get exercise. It helps control the release of glucose into the blood stream. Get plenty of quality sleep. It's good for you and it feels really, really good.

And if you have diabetes, be grateful. It is definitely a manageable disease and you could wind up being healthier for it. Take a good diabetes education class and learn how to manage it and take good care of yourself.

The e-mail meme making the rounds

I'll jump on this bandwagon, too, since it seems to be getting around so quickly.

1. What is your occupation? City government and education reporter. Also domestic diva in my own mind.
2. What color are your socks right now? Oh thank goodness, those ARE socks! They are black. For a second I thought I had gangrene.
3. What are you listening to right now? The pinging of the floor furnace as it cools down.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? A cube of cheddar cheese.
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Oh yeah, baby.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Plaid.
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Indirectly, it was the police PIO. I actually had my co-worker call for me because I was closer to her desk than mine. Yeah, lazy.
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes. Only I had to pick it up off of Tech's blog.
9. How old are you today? 52 years, 10 months.
10. Favorite drink? Diet Coke. Or, as my co-worker calls it, "FAKE SUGAR!"
11. What is your favorite sport to watch? Do I hafta?
12. Have you ever dyed your hair? Oh, yes, yes. But that's all behind me now. I've been the gamut from blonde to burgundy. Now I embrace the gray.
13. Pets? Are nice. Wish I had a doggie.
14. Favorite food? Is there only one favorite? Because I sure seem to like a whole bunch of it.
15. Last movie you watched? Can't remember, it has been so long.
16. Favorite Day of the year? Oct. 15. No reason.
17. What do you do to vent anger? I mouth off a lot. I try to keep it in the shower, but oops, sometimes I slip up and say things at inappropriate moments.
18. What was your favorite toy as a child? My dolly Mary.
19. What is your favorite season? Fall!
20. Hugs or kisses? KISSES!!! (because it's hard to kiss without getting a hug in there too. I like both and will steal if necessary.)
21. Cherry or Blueberry? Cherry.
22. When was the last time you cried? Probably in the past few months, missing my old house and friends.
23. What is on the floor of your closet? Hmm. You know, I'm not sure. I haven't unpacked that stuff in the laundry basket to see what it is.
24. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Juan, since grade school.
25. Favorite smells? Sheesh, can't we narrow this down a little? Puppy breath, a baby's neck, food in the smoker, Picasso Paloma perfume on a hot summer night, Yankee candles on a cold winter night, pot roast cooking with rosemary and thyme....
26. Who inspires you? Mo Anderson, who went from being my grade school music teacher to the CEO of Keller Williams Realty.
27. What are you afraid of? Spending my life lonely.
28. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Cheeboogie, cheeboogie, cheeboogie, Pepsi.
29. Favorite car? My 1995 Honda Civic, duh. That's why I've kept it so long!
30. Favorite cat breed? Someone else's.
31. Number of keys on your key ring? Dunno, and it's in the other room. Only three that matter any more.
32. How many years at your current job? Let's see, what is 8/12ths - three quarters of a year.
33. Favorite day of the week? Saturdays and Sundays, on weekends when I do not have to work. Working 6-day weeks sucks.
34. How many states have you lived in? 1, unless you count a two-month stint in Manhattan.
35. Do you think you're funny? I'm freakin' hilarious! Trust me on this if you can't tell.

Home-made bread

I tried a new bread recipe this weekend. It was interesting in both ingredients and method -- some new twists and turns I'd not seen or tried before.
This is in the EXTREMELY EASY category. The trick is having enough time to commit to being present with this bread at a few critical moments. I'll do it again, now that I'm a little more familiar with its timing -- but I would consider this a "free weekend" project when you're housebound because of weather or sheer desire.

I'll go through some photos of the steps first, then will share the odd little recipe at the end:

First, all the things we need. Unbleached all-purpose flour; whole wheat flour, instant yeast, salt, water, BEER, vinegar.


Dry ingredients:


Wet ingredients. Mmm. Ingredients.


Stirred together to form a "shaggy ball."


All tucked in for the next 8 to 18 hours.


First rising:


Ready to knead:


Smooth as a baby's bottom:


Preparing a parchment lined skillet for the second rising:


Spraying the top with no-stick spray:


It took another two-hour nap at this point.

Now, I see if it's awake and finished rising the second time. Close enough.


The oven has been heated to 500 degrees, with the dutch oven inside. HOT.


I flour the top of the loaf:


And then cut a 6-inch slit in the top


Using the parchment sling, the loaf now gets popped into the very extremely hot *ouch* dutch oven. The lid is put on top.


Then the heat is turned down to 425 and the loaf bakes, covered, for 30 minutes. Then the lid comes off and it bakes for another 20 to 30 minutes untiil it is dark brown and an instant-read thermometer reads 210. (I'll check to see how it sounds.)

Then it cools for two hours on a wire rack while I run off to play handbells.

When I took the lid off the pot, the parchment had already turned brown. This will be interesting!

The Verdict: The bread is GREAT. Good, crusty, flavorful. Definitely a peasant type bread. Would make a great soup bowl type bread.


Straight out of the oven. Too hot to touch!


Back from bells -- about an hour and a half cooling time on the rack. Cut and ready for butter!

It's soooo good.

The regular bread recipe calls for 3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour. The version I made substitutes 1 cup whole wheat flour for one cup of the unbleached.

I would make this again, now that I've got the hang of the timing. It would have to be on a weekend when I knew I would be home at the key times without being too stressed. Total time to do: 5 minutes for the mixing step. Lots of waiting. 5 minutes for the little bit of kneading before the second rise. 5 minutes to super-heat the oven and dutch oven. 5 minutes to get it ready to bake. An hour of time while it's in the oven.

There are other options in the recipe as well. I like this well enough to forego store bread. I just have to be careful not to devour the whole loaf when it comes out of the oven!

Oh, the traffic!

For a couple of weeks now, I've had a routine of counting the number of cars that cross my path in the morning on my drive to work -- specifically, I count how many cars I have to wait on in order to cross the street at each intersection.

Now, you might want to know that I drive down one street, Chestnut, from Thirteenth to Third (and yes, the formal names of the streets are spelled out here.) The main north-south street along my path is Fifth Street. Seventh Street is the heaviest secondary north-south street.

This morning I didn't have to wait on a single car! Not one! I thought for a minute the cable truck at Fourth Street was going to snag me, but sure enough, he cleared the intersection before I completed my stop at the stop sign.

One morning I hit it at the wrong time on Fifth Street. Cars were piled up everywhere. I had to wait for 10 (yes! Ten!) cars to cross before I could go.

I guess that's the hazard of crossing a four-lane road in the morning in the big town.

Most days the commute takes me two or three minutes. I think it took FOUR MINUTES to get to work that day. What's cool is that I have time to look at the drivers, and most days I know those people crossing my path. I see teachers, librarians, city office workers and others that I talk with regularly.

It's also fun in a voyeuristic sort of way driving through the one historic neighborhood in our town. It's pure coincidence that these are the people I've gotten to know best here. The old houses are charming, especially in the early-morning light. And there's a bit of something incongruent seeing these people leave their stately, well-ordered and preserved homes and rushing off in their SUVs and mom-mobiles. I like that. I like seeing them scurry off to jobs where they have to pretend that they weren't running behind trying to get there.

It's also fun watching the city manager's secretary, a tall, dour woman, walking towards city hall dressed in jeans, a blazer and high-heeled boots with little fur cuffs.

What sort of dichotomous observations have you had about the people you see in the mornings?

Happy Happy Unbirthday to me!

This is weird and funny and slightly strange and kooky....

Someone just had a fancy decorated cake delivered to "Trixie" at my office. There was a nice birthday card and also two small sugar-free cakes included. The bakery delivered it twice because no one here knows who Trixie is.

The cake wishes "Happy 50th UNbirthday, Trixie".

Obviously this is someone who knows me pretty well, if they went to this elaborate length. First, it has to be someone who knows I use the name Trixie online, who knows I am diabetic, probably someone who knows my real birthday is April Fool's day and is pulling a prank. And someone who likes me well enough to go to the trouble!

Whoever it is, they have me smiling all day!

Shy Longhorn

This guy will never make it to Detroit to introduce a new truck like the longhorns featured on Erudite Redneck's blog.

He's just a little too shy.

Cheating Death Left and Right

Earlier this week my guardian angel managed to keep me from getting bashed in the face by a skateboard. Yay guardian angel!

Today I had a followup visit with my doctor about my diabetes. I was diagnosed in September and my blood sugar numbers were astronomical: Fasting blood sugar was 270 and my A1C, which is a measure of blood sugar over a three-month period, was 10.8. At the time I saw her in October when she gave me these results, she told me the scale only went to 11. In my classes, I think they said the scale went to 13. In any event, 10.8 is like, right up there in the deadly range. You never, ever want to be told you have a 10.8 A1C score.

And just for grins, my cholesterol was 268, HDL was 49, LDL was 189, triglycerides were 151. I also had some wacked-out liver enzyme numbers.

Doctor had told me that I needed to get serious because "death is grabbing for you, girl." We started aggressive therapies and I took a series of diabetes education classes. I swore off sweets and radically monitored all my carbohydrate intake. I started some power walking on my lunch hour and some other things. I did what I had to do.

And today, I got the TA-DA Gold Star Award (well, she said I deserved a gold star. She really didn't give me one, but wouldn't that have been cool?)

Forgive me, but I don't have the sheet in front of me with all the numbers. I was busy showing it off at work and left it there this afternoon. I'll tell you what I know for sure.

Fasting blood sugar dropped from 270 to 170. Yay me!
My A1C level dropped from 10.8 to 7.0!!!! YAYAYAYAYA ME! (Normal is about 6. I'm almost normal!!! I'm certainly in a good range for someone with diabetes.)
Cholesterol dropped to 184. YES. Rarely in my life have I gotten it below 200. This is amazing. Good cholesterol is up. Bad is down. Triglycerides are down. All are in a very good range right now. YAY me!

Blood pressure? Oh, you want to know about my blood pressure too? Well, lissen up my friends! I had a blood pressure of 222/121. Yes, I did. How I didn't have a stroke - I can only credit my guardian angel and good luck for that.

TODAY my blood pressure was 124/68.

I can live with that. Thanks, Doc.

YAY ME!

To Anyone Who Has Loved a Dog

Recommended Reading:

Good Dog. Stay by Anna Quindlen (Random House; 1 edition November 20, 2007)

This is a quick little read that will fill up the heart of any dog lover and just as quickly drive them to tears. I stopped by the library on my lunch hour to return some books and picked this up just to have something to read across the street as I ate lunch.

More than half the book is photographs of all kinds of loving dogs. Most made me smile; several made me laugh out loud, which surprised me. It also surprised me to find myself weeping over the words as I ate my pulled-pork sandwich.

Anyone who has lived through a dog's life cycle with them will know the struggle Quindlen describes about making decisions for their loved pet. And anyone who has done that will know about the tears.

Just a side note: I finished the book and my sandwich about the same time and was able to return it to the library before heading back to the office. Take an hour for yourself and give this one a look. You'll be glad you did.

A close call this evening

My town just built a cool skate park for the skateboarders and others who like alternative sports. It's a project I have supported and am very proud of.

The ribbon-cutting was this evening and I was there to take pictures of the first official day of the park. It was a BLAST. If I had been able to swipe a skateboard from one of the kids, I would have. I swear I will be skating there before I die, somehow.

Anyway, I was taking shots from all over the park. These preadolescent boys were all coming up and calling me "picture lady" or "newspaper woman". It was so sweet, really. They are good kids and I'm thrilled they have a place for this park in the old neighborhood where I grew up.

There was another lady who was over in one corner of the pad trying out a Razr scooter and the city manager asked me to go get a photo of her.

I sent one of the boys over to her to tell her to come towards me. She said no. I told the boy to tell her G.M. sent me. She laughed, but still said no. She was just learning.

So I'm standing next to the side of one of the half pipes and I bent over to set my pen on top of my camera bag, and just as I started to straighten up, I saw a flash of red out of the corner of my eye and felt something brush the top of my hair. I was thinking "Boy, I hope that wasn't a bird pooping on me."

Well, it wasn't a bird pooping on me. It was a loose skateboard that one of the kids lost control of at the other side of the half-pipe that came flying straight at me. If I had been standing fully upright, it would have smashed full force into my face.

All these new young friends of mine were shocked and stunned into silence at the top of the ramp. When they could finally breathe again, the kid who lost the board was nearly crying when he said "I am SO GLAD you are OK!"

Me too!

The Many Moods of Me