Author: gr4c5

I write. I read. I cook. I run. That's me, in a nutshell.

Women for Women International

gr4c5Leave a comment

Women for Women InternationalHere’s a new one. I’ve never been contacted by the Women for Women International charity before. I think their slogan is “see what you can do” because it was plastered on every piece of paper possible. Here’s what I got from the mailing: the ever-popular “Dear Friend” letter (four pages long), a strip of yellow paper outlining the critical situation of women in Southern Sudan, the ever-present donation card & envelope, and what looks to be a Women for Women International newsletter.

Here’s what I found out from the information sent to me:

  • Zainab Salbi is president, CEO and founder of Women for Women International in the hopes of women helping women.
  • WFWI has provided more than 93,000 women with tools and resources to get themselves out of poverty in places like Sudan, the DRC, Iraq, Afghanistan, Rwanda, Columbia, Bosnia and Kosovo. I’m thinking they should partner with DWB/MSF because they are in the same places, doing almost the same work.
  • WFWI is a 501(c)(3) organization. Weirdly enough, their funding information wasn’t in the letter but rather on the back of the envelope you mail back. You can write to the charity to receive a report of their annual finances. Each state has a different process and they’re all listed on the envelope.

Gifts

gr4c5Leave a comment

So, kisa gave me the puppy dog look this morning as he said, “my tapes aren’t in the pic…” Even though he wasn’t that upset I thought I would post another pic. To tell the truth, it was actually my 2nd choice pic. My first choice just showed the “Fun at Lunch Hour” tape best.
Four out of six “Kisa” tapes are here. So are four from my sister, two from exYouKnowWhos and the rest are friends. I left out the exTapes I can’t stand, the mix my step-grandmother made me (Yanni!) and the lesbian love song mix. I don’t care to revisit those encounters….ever.

So, Kisa – there you go. Provin Mountain, Chill Mix (thankfully you didn’t call it the Calm Down tape), Post Birthday and Extra B-Day are represented.

 

As I Walked Out

gr4c5Leave a comment

AudenAuden, W. H. “As I Walked Out One Evening.” Collected Shorter Poems 1927-1957. New York: Random House, 1966. p85.

I liked this poem. I saw it as questioning time which is something I do all the time. I often wonder what makes time move the way it does. Perceptions of time can differ between two people having the same experience, just by their emotions.
I also saw this poem as pondering life and all that it has to offer. This is yet another thing I ponder as well. Am I living this life the way I’m supposed to? Is there even a blueprint to follow? I got the feeling the voice in “As I Walked Out…” is watching life pass by and speculating on what life really means.

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust and the chapter on “Poetry Pleasers” (p 188).

Pardon the Interruption

gr4c52 Comments

I may have to put the Book Lust project on hold every now and then. Come to think of it, I’ll have to admend my BL “rules” as well. Here’s what happened. A few weeks ago LibraryThing sent me a private comment…they said they were looking for people to be involved in their Early Reviewers Program. 500 out of 215,981 members would be chosen to receive pre-publication copies of Random House titles as long as they post reviews on LibraryThing after reading them. We wouldn’t be paid for our reviews but we would get free books. How cool is that? I don’t get paid for the reviews I already write so what the hey? Sounds like fun only it will cut into my BookLust Challenge.
Today, I found out that I have been chosen to receive a book! Since there are 500 members and only 5 books to chose from, I was convinced I would be in the “sooner or LATER” group – as in “sooner or later you’ll get a book to review…but not right now.”

I’ve been told the RH book should be here within a week. That means As I Lay Dying and Aspects of the Novel will hang in the balance between unfinished and finished until the RH assignment is finished.

Recovered

gr4c55 Comments

I lose things. I could misplace you if you weren’t your own person. Keys, wallet and cell phone are my most common victims but every once in awhile it’s a mixed tape. To me, that’s more devastating than keys, wallet and phone combined. CDs be damned, I love my mixed tapes.
SG made tapes that skillfully went from one song to another with meaning and message. They were cryptic, brain teasing and heart breaking. My sister made tapes trying to convince me her music knows best. There was vengeance, too (a lot of death to Billy songs…hmmm). Kisa made tapes full of his personality and humor. My favorite sound bites from movies, Homer Simpson chiming in, a weather update, goofy dj voice…But RT made two tapes that were just plain fun fun fun. Somehow I lost them both. I blamed it on moving eight times in as many years; sharing space with 14 different people in as much time – things are bound to get a little mixed up. A mixed tape (or two) could surely go missing in that mess.
Well, I found one of the tapes…in the oddest place…my mother’s art table on the island. I was never so surprised and overjoyed. It was like finding a long lost friend. Okay, so this friend is a little warped but I can’t stop listening to her! RT introduced me to Tom Waits. “Martha” is one of my all-time favorite songs. RT also introduced me to Billy Bragg and the Proclaimers and “We Could Be Heroes” in German. Thanks to her, some silly song by Ace of Base that I now can’t dislodge from my head….
I’m hoping tape 2 emerges one day. I’m hoping it pops up just as “Fun at Lunch Hour” did. It will be music to my ears.

Prayer

gr4c57 Comments

People are asking me how my holiday was and I’ve been answering “spiritual.” WTF? Where is that coming from? Usually my peace comes from a good yoga session, an exhausting run, a rhythm with the ocean, sleeping in, waking slow. I’m grounded by a good book, a better friend, cooking a decent meal, laughing loud and long. I didn’t have much of any of that while I was home. No yoga, no run. Each morning I woke at 5:30am… usually from jarring dreams that rattled me awake. The equivalent of being rudely tossed out of slumber. While I read the books didn’t give me safe passage. So, what gives? Why the word “spiritual” to describe what a week ago I couldn’t even put words to?

I think I know. I think I get it. Discovery is knowledge. Knowledge lends itself to understanding. Understanding is the foundation for acceptance. There is peace in acceptance. Bingo. I learned a little more about myself through my mother’s history and that has brought me home. Spiritually. I get it now. This revelation brought me hope.

My mother said, “I block those times out” and that’s when hope arrived. I was this close to replying “I know what you mean.” I was this close to yanking open the closet door and letting the skeletons tumble out. It seemed like an invitation to confide. My hand was on the door, turning the knob. I could have done it…but I thought too much. How would she feel that she is the very last to know? Would she be offended, would she be hurt? How would I explain my distrust of her reaction 30 years too late? Time doesn’t heal all wounds. And wound her I would. Hers would be fresh and raw while all mine have scarred over and hardened into indifference. So instead, I let go, looked in my lap and said, “I can see why…” With that, the moment slipped away. Wine in hand she walked away. The closet door stayed closed.

Autobiography of an Unknown Indian

gr4c5Leave a comment

AutobiographyChaudhuri, Nirad. The Autobiography of an Unknown Indian. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1968.

I admitted defeat with Autobiographyby page 92. Maybe I was spoiled by all the easy reading over the vaca. Maybe I just couldn’t wrap my brain around Chaudhuri’s lengthy descriptions. Maybe it was the subject matter. I don’t know. I do know that I literally fell asleep every time I cracked open this book.
From the very beginning I was confused about the nature of this story. Fiction? Nonfiction? It’s the first hand account of an Indian growing up in Kishorganj, India. A memoir of sorts. It sounds nonfiction because he refers to the Chaudhuri family off and on and he goes to great length to describe everything – the huts his family lived in, the landscape, the weather, the townspeople, the politics, the culture, even the animals. Chaudhuri lost me in the chapter about his mother’s ancestral village. It was more of the same. 
But, the reading wasn’t all dry. Littered in between the descriptive are little stories about childhood and memories. Those little pieces were fun and added color to the overall plot. 

BookLust Twist: From More Book Lust in the chapter called “India: A Readers Itinerary.” Nancy puts Autobiography under fiction but it reads as dry as non. What cracked a smile on my face is when Nancy described it as an “exceptionally informative.” She wasn’t kidding.

Glass

gr4c5Leave a comment

To drink or not to drink…not a question. Not a problem. I’ve never really considered alcohol a good friend, or even a friend for that matter. I know someone who gave it up completely. She was my not-really-drinking-drinking-buddy. My something sour to her something strong. She gave it up completely while I still talk to the bottle every now and then.
While on vacation every now and then became every night and then. Thursday night was a big glass of Merlot, chugged at Rosie’s. Friday night was a couple small glasses of Yellow Tail while staring at the ocean. Saturday night was this bottle of out of this world UFO, while watching watching the sun go down. Sunday was Shipyard brew at the Bull. Monday night I cried uncle when a Beaujolais was coming my way. Why? Four days in a row is nothing and there are people who think nothing of it, but to me, I was thinking everything.
Something worth considering.

The Awakening (w/ spoiler)

gr4c52 Comments

AwakeningChopin, Kate. The Awakening. New York: New American Library, 1976.

If I had a tag for “feminism” this book would be under it. Actually, it’s more of a long short story than a book. Only 125 pages long Kate Chopin tells the story of discontented, tragic Edna Pontellier. A wife and a mother she is dutiful as both until a younger man awakens her inner rebel and sex goddess. You can see it start slowly when she states, “I feel this summer as if I were walking thrugh the green meadow again; idly, aimlessly, unthinking and unguided” (p. 17). It grows stronger when she disobeys her husband, “Another time she would have gone in at his request” (p. 33). Finally, the ultimate of rebellion reaches its peak when she is seduced by another man, Arobin. “He did not say goodnight until she had become supple to his gentle, seductive entreaties” (p. 100).

BookLust Twist: While Pearl doesn’t think anything really happened with Edna (” …poor Edna Pontellier…who doesn’t actually do anything but suffers the consequences anyway.” More Book Lust, Wayward Wives p 232), I strongly disagree. What Edna doesn’t do is be a good mother to her kids (they’re shipped off while she pretends to be an artist), or a good wife. She moved out of their home while hubby’s away. He’s left making excuses to save face (said the house was being renovated and that’s why his wife took up another residence).

In the end Edna commits suicide. She knows she’s not a good mother. She knows she isn’t a faithful wife. She can’t have the man who truly awakened her sexuality. Trapped in a life she cannot conform to she walks into the sea never to emerge.

rain

gr4c56 Comments

It’s the only time my mind is bombarded with lyrics – when it rains. Drives me crazy but comforts me all the same. Madonna (“Rain”), Matchbox 20 (“She only sleeps when it’s raining”), Natalie Merchant (“I’ve been walking all alone through the wind and through the rain”), Dave Matthews (“Gravedigger, when you dig my grave could you make it shallow so that I can feel the rain”, Eurythmics (“Here comes the rain again”), Rebecca Correia (“Rain, how’s it feelin’ babe” and “I’ve got all the blue skies in your eyes combined, so bring on the the rain”), Bob Dylan (“Buckets of rain”), the Grateful Dead (“Box of Rain”), Eric Clapton (“praying for the healing rain”), and even Gordon Lightfoot (“rainy day people…”) have been singing to me all morning.

I don’t know what makes the rain so beautiful to me, especially today. Maybe it’s that first day back to work, matching my get-down-to-business attitude. Can’t think of anything else but writing proposals, drafting policies, scheduling fall classes, wading through tons of email…No running, no “I should be outside” guilt trip, no other plans but getting back into the professional world. Weird how I missed it. I needed to be away, yet cannot stay away.

I’m thinking I’d like to learn a new “hobby”. Any ideas? Bring on the rain.

Clear Path International

gr4c56 Comments

Too Many YearsMy first exposure to Clear Path was through Natalie. She provided a song on a benefit cd (Too Many Years) which was released in the spring of 2005. Even before that I knew Natalie was involved in the project. She would talk about CPI’s mission during her shows. She called such conversations (when she wasn’t singing) “patter”. I called it education for she was always talking about charities near and dear to her. CPU caught my attention when it broke my heart. So I donated. When I ordered the cd I asked to be put CPI’s mailing list for their biannual newletter and discovered I went to school with the vice president and the Cambodia advisor. Small world. They don’t know I subscribe to their newsletter, nor would they recognize my name when I donate. I’m a different person, literally and figuratively, since high school. But aren’t we all? 

But, I digress. Here’s the quick and dirty about CPI: Clear Path International is a six year old nonprofit out of (U.S.) Bainbridge Island, Wash. and Dorset, VT. They have offices in Vietnam, Cambodia & Thailand (the places that really make sense) as well. Their mission is to serve the families and communities who are victim to landmines and oh so much more.  Their website is chock full of information – including a blog of videos worth checking out.

                                                    CPI logo

Caught

gr4c57 Comments

Caught on an electric wire I wait on the wind. I am once again alive and happy to be here. I was slipping my grip on priority a few weeks ago but I’m back. A renewed force of power waits while I settle into a new groove. And settle, I will. Just you wait.
There is a new resolve to run my life the way I want, a new resolve to be who I want to be. I am not stupid, I’ve been face to face with this resolve before. My life is a giant circle – losing confidence, gaining ground. Faltering and finishing. Falling down and getting back up. This isn’t the first time I’ve found courage, found strength, found something to be. I’ll take advantage of it while it’s here.
Knitting II was cancelled but that just gives me time to enroll in knitting school – yes school. Courses, textbooks, prerequisites, labs, tests, homework, final exams. The works. I finished knitting I with a green scarf but now I’m ready to jump into the unknown. As a good friend told me, it’s all well and good to reaffirm what I already know (as in the case of knitting I), but it’s another to move into unchartered waters. So, here I go.
Yoga. I haven’t been to Now and Zen Yoga since it moved. I’m embarrassed by that fact. Now that I have this director thing worked out I have time for the more important things.
Kisa taught me some moves on the bowflex. I’ve missed strength training. Okay, I avoided it after a certain meathead left my life, but, but, but I still missed it. I like watching my muscles move, feeling strong and in charge. Peach Shirt still lingers in my memory. He follows me from the grocery store and back from the back. I’d like to be able to kick his azz if it ever came to that. Instead I’ll ignore the ache. In addition I discovered the bike path goes all the way into town – almost 3 miles. Perfect for running. I’ll start tomorrow.

I moved back into the Space, calling up some friends. If I haven’t called on you, give me time. I’m still figuring out where you are! 😉

TNT

gr4c5Leave a comment

TNTThe Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training organization contacted me again this week. There is a part of me that almost outwardly groans “why can’t you leave me alone?” while another part of me thinks I really should reconsider another half marathon. I’ve already proved I can run five miles without issue. What’s another eight? Yeah, right. Eight point one. Tell that to my knee. Better yet, tell that to my husband! I’m sure either would love to hear that I could be saddling up for another 13 miler. No, I don’t’ think so. I’m seriously considering that Grand Canyon hike LLS mentioned earlier. I know I need to do something!

I ran Wednesday. Another four miles. I like four. It’s a good number. It’s a good number for my knees. This time my legs took me to a different cemetary and somewhere I haven’t been in a long time – the park. Running around Look was a blast from the past. It’s where I hurt my knee. It’s where I fell to earth. To ward off the demons I ran in the opposite direction of how I used to. I think I conquered the past pain. It felt good to glide around elderly couples holding hands and walking slow, past young mothers pushing strollers and gossiping, and giving dog walkers a wide berth. Ducks in the stream, parties at the picnic tables. It felt good period.

Allegra Maud Goldman

gr4c5Leave a comment

AllegraKonecky, Edith. Allegra Maud Goldman. New York: The Feminist Press, 1990.

This was another one of those “kid books” – about a kid coming of age, I should say. I enjoyed this much better than the Angus book. Both have witty, sarcastic, growing up girl narratives only Allegra is Jewish instead of Catholic and lives in Brooklyn, New York instead of England. She isn’t afraid to use her mind, or speak it. A few of my favorite quotes:

“Just thinking about that whole library filled with ideas, things to mull over , all sorts of new people to get to know, boggled my mind.” (p88)

“”You’ll never be really happy as a woman,” Sonia said “until you have your own sweet baby at your breast.” I recognized this as something her mother was always saying to her, but I refrained from throwing up.” (p145)

I enjoyed this book a great deal. Allegra Maud Goldman is my kind of kid. Her sense of humor stands up and takes a bow in the face if that audience called insecurity that only growing up can produce.

BookLust Twist: From Book Lust in the chapter appropriately called, “Girls Growing up” (p 101). Pearl liked Allegra as much as I did saying, “…Konecky manages to write from a child’s point of view  without ending up sounding silly, condescending or false.” (p 102)

On the Side of Angels

gr4c55 Comments

I donated to Susan G. Komen for the Cure. I donated but that doesn’t mean they are going to give up asking me for more. They shouldn’t.This week I got yet another Dear Friend letter and…note-cards, complete with envelopes. I think this is a guilt tactic. A subliminal “what do you think these note cards are worth and could you pay us that for sending them to you?” They are nice cards…but I didn’t ask for them. Maybe it’s a hint that I owe a few people some letters and I should get on my butt and write them.

Here’s what I want to say, “Dear SGKFTC, You are preaching to the choir. When you tell me the stats on breast cancer it’s something I already know. Cancer is something that scares the clear thinking out of me. You say my donation can make a difference but I don’t think it does. Why else would I get another Dear Friend so soon after my last check was sent?” I know exactly what you are going to say. We should never stop. I believe you. Cancer is killing someone you know right now. It starts in the breast, you fight the good fight and breathe a sigh of relief. It comes back in the hip, you fight the good fight and breathe a shaky sigh of relief. It shows itself in the jaw, you fight the good fight and breathe a troubled sigh of relief. Now it’s in the spine, you’re fighting the good fight and there is a sigh, but not of relief. The sigh comes from knowing cancer doesn’t give up. So. Neither should Komen. Neither should you. Donate today.