“A chili for autumn! Turkey, pumpkin, and traditional chili ingredients go together well in this spicy concoction.”RECIPE HERE
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Turkey Pumpkin Chili
“A chili for autumn! Turkey, pumpkin, and traditional chili ingredients go together well in this spicy concoction.”RECIPE HERE
Jungle Drum
Aside from screeches, laughter and babbling, Annie's favorite vocalization is "digadigadigadiga".
Sometimes we get high squeaky digas and sometimes we get low baritone digas. We get loud digas and whispered digas.
Sometimes we get a big "ahhhhhhhhh - diga!".
It's pretty infectious and more than one person has left our house saying "digadigadiga" to themself.
After spending some time at our house in August, our niece Crystal e-mailed us and said you have to hear this song!
It's called Jungle Drum by Emiliana Torrini. Not only is it a fun tune, it's the closest thing I have heard to little Annie's digadigadiga and I can't help but smile when I hear it.
It's in the Ipod in the right-hand margin - take a listen!
88 Counties = 88 Keys = Ohio is a Piano
This sort of hurts my head: Link to Story
Link to Map where you can "Play" the State of Ohio like a piano!
Stadium Traffic
by Daniel Donaghy
You're on your way home
when a thousand cars
pour onto Broad Street:
the ball game's over.
No one's going anywhere soon.
It's mid-July: eighty and humid.
You smell like all the crappies in the Delaware,
wear the ache of dock crates in your back.
Your buddy lost two fingers tonight
to a jigsaw: boss said go home early,
stay late tomorrow night.
These people don't appreciate
what they have: time to go to ball games.
You get out among blaring horns
and hustlers hawking T-shirts,
walk the yellow lines like a tight rope,
arms out for balance,
all the way to the corner and back.
Broad Street still as a parking lot,
wound tight as a fist.
You pop the trunk, fish a beer
from your cooler, and pound it.
Back in your car, the radio's
recapping the game:
your team pulled one out
they would have blown last year.
You've blown the last year working
nights while your lady works days.
Night work means bad lighting,
and you've had enough close calls.
You've had enough overtime.
You've had enough.
Something has to give.
Somewhere in the distance a dog
is barking, a husband is coming home.
You're on your way home
when a thousand cars
pour onto Broad Street:
the ball game's over.
No one's going anywhere soon.
It's mid-July: eighty and humid.
You smell like all the crappies in the Delaware,
wear the ache of dock crates in your back.
Your buddy lost two fingers tonight
to a jigsaw: boss said go home early,
stay late tomorrow night.
These people don't appreciate
what they have: time to go to ball games.
You get out among blaring horns
and hustlers hawking T-shirts,
walk the yellow lines like a tight rope,
arms out for balance,
all the way to the corner and back.
Broad Street still as a parking lot,
wound tight as a fist.
You pop the trunk, fish a beer
from your cooler, and pound it.
Back in your car, the radio's
recapping the game:
your team pulled one out
they would have blown last year.
You've blown the last year working
nights while your lady works days.
Night work means bad lighting,
and you've had enough close calls.
You've had enough overtime.
You've had enough.
Something has to give.
Somewhere in the distance a dog
is barking, a husband is coming home.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Wha' Happa'?
Got to find a reason, reason things went wrong, got to find a reason why my money's all gone . . .
- Sublime
A fascinating look at how the investment community built a house of cards that came crashing down on the Real Estate industry, nearly destroyed the global economy, and sent us all sliding into the "Great Recession".
- Sublime
A fascinating look at how the investment community built a house of cards that came crashing down on the Real Estate industry, nearly destroyed the global economy, and sent us all sliding into the "Great Recession".
How It Will End
by Denise Duhamel
We're walking on the boardwalk
but stop when we see a lifeguard and his girlfriend
fighting. We can't hear what they're saying,
but it is as good as a movie. We sit on a bench to find out
how it will end. I can tell by her body language
he's done something really bad. She stands at the bottom
of the ramp that leads to his hut. He tries to walk halfway down
to meet her, but she keeps signaling Don't come closer.
My husband says, "Boy, he's sure in for it,"
and I say, "He deserves whatever's coming to him."
My husband thinks the lifeguard's cheated, but I think
she's sick of him only working part-time
or maybe he forgot to put the rent in the mail.
The lifeguard tries to reach out
and she holds her hand like Diana Ross
when she performed "Stop in the Name of Love."
The red flag that slaps against his station means strong currents.
"She has to just get it out of her system,"
my husband laughs, but I'm not laughing.
I start to coach the girl to leave the no-good lifeguard,
but my husband predicts she'll never leave.
I'm angry at him for seeing glee in their situation
and say, "That's your problem—you think every fight
is funny. You never take her seriously," and he says,
"You never even give the guy a chance and you're always nagging,
so how can he tell the real issues from the nitpicking?"
and I say, "She doesn't nitpick!" and he says, "Oh really?
Maybe he should start recording her tirades," and I say
"Maybe he should help out more," and he says
"Maybe she should be more supportive," and I say
"Do you mean supportive or do you mean support him?"
and my husband says that he's doing the best he can,
that he's a lifeguard for Christ's sake, and I say
that her job is much harder, that she's a waitress
who works nights carrying heavy trays and is hit on all the time
by creepy tourists and he just sits there most days napping
and listening to "Power 96" and then ooh
he gets to be the big hero blowing his whistle
and running into the water to save beach bunnies who flatter him
and my husband says it's not as though she's Miss Innocence
and what about the way she flirts, giving free refills
when her boss isn't looking or cutting extra large pieces of pie
to get bigger tips, oh no she wouldn't do that because she's a saint
and he's the devil, and I say, "I don't know why you can't admit
he's a jerk," and my husband says, "I don't know why you can't admit
she's a killjoy," and then out of the blue the couple is making up.
The red flag flutters, then hangs limp.
She has her arms around his neck and is crying into his shoulder.
He whisks her up into his hut. We look around, but no one is watching us.
We're walking on the boardwalk
but stop when we see a lifeguard and his girlfriend
fighting. We can't hear what they're saying,
but it is as good as a movie. We sit on a bench to find out
how it will end. I can tell by her body language
he's done something really bad. She stands at the bottom
of the ramp that leads to his hut. He tries to walk halfway down
to meet her, but she keeps signaling Don't come closer.
My husband says, "Boy, he's sure in for it,"
and I say, "He deserves whatever's coming to him."
My husband thinks the lifeguard's cheated, but I think
she's sick of him only working part-time
or maybe he forgot to put the rent in the mail.
The lifeguard tries to reach out
and she holds her hand like Diana Ross
when she performed "Stop in the Name of Love."
The red flag that slaps against his station means strong currents.
"She has to just get it out of her system,"
my husband laughs, but I'm not laughing.
I start to coach the girl to leave the no-good lifeguard,
but my husband predicts she'll never leave.
I'm angry at him for seeing glee in their situation
and say, "That's your problem—you think every fight
is funny. You never take her seriously," and he says,
"You never even give the guy a chance and you're always nagging,
so how can he tell the real issues from the nitpicking?"
and I say, "She doesn't nitpick!" and he says, "Oh really?
Maybe he should start recording her tirades," and I say
"Maybe he should help out more," and he says
"Maybe she should be more supportive," and I say
"Do you mean supportive or do you mean support him?"
and my husband says that he's doing the best he can,
that he's a lifeguard for Christ's sake, and I say
that her job is much harder, that she's a waitress
who works nights carrying heavy trays and is hit on all the time
by creepy tourists and he just sits there most days napping
and listening to "Power 96" and then ooh
he gets to be the big hero blowing his whistle
and running into the water to save beach bunnies who flatter him
and my husband says it's not as though she's Miss Innocence
and what about the way she flirts, giving free refills
when her boss isn't looking or cutting extra large pieces of pie
to get bigger tips, oh no she wouldn't do that because she's a saint
and he's the devil, and I say, "I don't know why you can't admit
he's a jerk," and my husband says, "I don't know why you can't admit
she's a killjoy," and then out of the blue the couple is making up.
The red flag flutters, then hangs limp.
She has her arms around his neck and is crying into his shoulder.
He whisks her up into his hut. We look around, but no one is watching us.
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Longest 9 min Film You Will Ever See
Snow Skier straps video camera to his helmet - as he heads downhill, the camera catches the snow crumbling into an avalanche, his fall and tumble and then first-hand what it is like to be buried in an avalanche. And what it is like to see your rescuers dig you out.
He also got very lucky to be honest. In the time that he's buried, you can hear his breathing already accelerate. The ruffling noise back and forth is his chest rising and falling and the noise that his jacket makes. The intermittent whimpering noise you hear is him trying to swallow and get some air since the avalung wasn't fully in his mouth and instead just to the corner of his mouth. Still sends chills up the back of my neck. Oh...the luck? They located him so fast because his right glove came off just before he came completley to rest and there was an excellent visual of course.
He also got very lucky to be honest. In the time that he's buried, you can hear his breathing already accelerate. The ruffling noise back and forth is his chest rising and falling and the noise that his jacket makes. The intermittent whimpering noise you hear is him trying to swallow and get some air since the avalung wasn't fully in his mouth and instead just to the corner of his mouth. Still sends chills up the back of my neck. Oh...the luck? They located him so fast because his right glove came off just before he came completley to rest and there was an excellent visual of course.
Quote of the Day
"When you are courting a nice girl an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That's relativity."
- Albert Einstein
- Albert Einstein
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Perfectly Imperfect Pecan Pralines: The Flaw Makes the Sweet
I have no idea what a Praline is but it sounds delicious!
“This simple version, spiked with a little bourbon, is my favorite. Making pralines becomes incredibly easy when you skip the step of trying to form them into perfect 2 1/2-inch rounds, like they do in the South, but instead spread the whole mixture on a parchment-lined baking sheet and break it up into bites once it’s cool.”
LINK HERE
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The Meaning of Success
I thought this post was very thought-provoking. As someone who has seen his income slashed by 75% at the same time my wife was giving birth to a special-needs daughter, it struck a nerve . . .
Extraordinary
This post the other day reminded me that EVERYONE has something to offer to those in need.
Way to go Emily!
Click
okay, so it's not a fall movie, but we did just watch it the other night.
It is a modern day morality play. A story based on an absurd premise that teaches one simple truth. It is in the same vein as Liar Liar and Bruce Almighty both of which turned out to be better than I had expected.
Adam Sandler plays a harried overworked dad who is given the ability to fast forward through all the difficulties of life only to discover that he has missed out on life itself. There is the usual sophmoric comedy here and there but there were also moments when both the wife and I thought, "Ouch, that hits close to home . . ." Its a good movie and one I would especially recommend to any dads out there.
Quote of the Day
I bought an emergency flashlight, which brings the total number up to only six. You may ask: why? Well, they’re all small, and they rest unused in a socket until the power goes off. Then they snap on, and everything is dramatically lit from below. Eventually I’ll have every room done. And then I’ll sit around and wait for the power to go off. Being prepared is so frustrating.
- Lileks
- Lileks
Friday, September 25, 2009
The Martin Milton Affair
So a few weeks ago this little guy wandered into our front yard. He looked like he had been recently groomed and he had a collar but no tag. He followed Buckley into the back yard and we closed the gate. I painted some "We Found Your Dawg" signs and posted them on the trash cans in our front yard.We called him Martin which I kept mixing up with Milton.
Buckley seemed to enjoy the company but we didn't let Martin Milton in the house. I spent the next couple of days driving the neighborhood looking for any "Lost Dawg" fliers to no avail.
Buckley seemed to enjoy the company but we didn't let Martin Milton in the house. I spent the next couple of days driving the neighborhood looking for any "Lost Dawg" fliers to no avail. The wife considered keeping him but he wasn't neutered which meant he probably had not been cared for medically. He also didn't seem to have any training. Not to mention that we really aren't looking to add another dawg right now.
And then the unthinkable happened. I came home one evening and MY OWN DAWG WAS MISSING - Martin Milton was still in the back yard though.
THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! I cried to the wife. ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT MY OWN DAWG IS GONE BUT THAT LOUSY MARTIN IS STILL HERE??!!!!
I got in the car and started driving the neighborhood. It finally got so dark that there was no point in me driving around any more. Let me tell you, having to give up searching for your lost dawg and go home to SOMEONE ELSE'S LOST DAWG. Is not as fun as you may think.
When I got home, Martin Milton was gone too - the wife had called a friend to come take him off our hands.
Shortly after I got home, the phone rang - Buckley had been found over 3 miles away. Buckley has 3 tags on his collar - His city dawg license, a tag indicating that he has an embedded microchip that vets can scan for and his typical tag with his name and our phone number. Any one of those tags will get him home if he is found.
I raced out of the house and found and thanked Buckley's rescuer who commented that he was a "great dawg". "The best" I replied.
The next day, our friend took Martin Milton to the vet to have him scanned for a possible micro chip - he didn't have one. Then she dropped him off at the local shelter.
A co-worker at the office inquired about Martin Milton and I shook my head and explained that Martin Milton was headed for "a large farm in the country."
"That's nice", the co-worker replied in all seriousness, "at least he will be happy there".
Now that I think about it, there is a good chance Martin Milton's owner checked the shelters and found him. If not, I would expect that he wound up with a new owner - he was sort of cute in an unkempt sort of way.
But still, tag your pets, people.
Smothered Bacon Chicken
“Pretty straightforward: wrap chicken with bacon strips, smother with sour cream mushroom sauce, bake, and devour.”
RECIPE HERE
Pink
by Luci Shaw
Not a color I've wanted to wear—too
innocently girlish, and I'm not innocent,
not a girl. But today the gnarled cherry trees
along Alabama Street are decked out
like bridesmaids—garlands in their hair,
nosegays in their hands—extravagant,
finally the big spring wedding to splurge,
and hang the cost. Each really wants to be
the bride so she can toss her bouquet until,
unaccustomed, the gutters choke
with pink confetti that flies up and whirls
in the wake of cars going west,
flirting shamelessly with teenage boys on
the crosswalks. The pale twisters,
the drifts of petals, call out to me, "Let go;
it's OK to be giddy, enchanted, flighty,
intoxicated with color. Drive straight
to the mall and buy yourself a pink Tee."
Not a color I've wanted to wear—too
innocently girlish, and I'm not innocent,
not a girl. But today the gnarled cherry trees
along Alabama Street are decked out
like bridesmaids—garlands in their hair,
nosegays in their hands—extravagant,
finally the big spring wedding to splurge,
and hang the cost. Each really wants to be
the bride so she can toss her bouquet until,
unaccustomed, the gutters choke
with pink confetti that flies up and whirls
in the wake of cars going west,
flirting shamelessly with teenage boys on
the crosswalks. The pale twisters,
the drifts of petals, call out to me, "Let go;
it's OK to be giddy, enchanted, flighty,
intoxicated with color. Drive straight
to the mall and buy yourself a pink Tee."
A-yep
Your eyes are not deceiving to you - it is exactly what it looks like.
Sort of gives new meaning to the phrase "Wash your mouth out with soap".
Quote of the Day
"Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children and no theories."
- John Wilmot
- John Wilmot
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Pecking Order
At the tail end of Annie's birthday party last month, I handed out some cheap squirt guns to the munchkins and set out a bucket of water in the front yard.
Some of the boys spent the rest of the day planning "raids" on key adults that involved swarming from all sides with guns firing away.
The photo above is shortly after they "raided" my brother-in-law, Jeremy.
1387 Years Ago Today
Muhammad completes Hegira
On this day in 622, the prophet Muhammad completes his Hegira, or "flight," from Mecca to Medina to escape persecution. In Medina, Muhammad set about building the followers of his religion--Islam--into an organized community and Arabian power. The Hegira would later mark the beginning (year 1) of the Muslim calendar.
On this day in 622, the prophet Muhammad completes his Hegira, or "flight," from Mecca to Medina to escape persecution. In Medina, Muhammad set about building the followers of his religion--Islam--into an organized community and Arabian power. The Hegira would later mark the beginning (year 1) of the Muslim calendar.
Quote of the Day
I finally wrestled the battery loose and set off to trade it for a new one at Farm & Fleet. While there, I noticed a bin of cheap wrenches. No self-respecting handyman buys cheap wrenches, so naturally, I was interested. The wrench sets were in two separate bins, but the price was the same, so I just grabbed the nearest set. Back home, I was almost giddy at the idea of installing the battery now that I had the proper tools. I unrolled the bag of wrenches to select a half-inch, only to find every wrench marked with "mm" instead of "inches". Two bins of wrenches, and I manage to pick the metric. the battery bolts (and pretty much everything else on the farm) are standard American.
Good news is, you can fling a metric wrench forty feet, no conversion necessary.
- from Coop by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Good news is, you can fling a metric wrench forty feet, no conversion necessary.
- from Coop by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Autumn Song
by Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Let's go down the road together, you and I,
Let's go down the road together,
Through the vivid autumn weather;
Let's go down the road together when the red leaves fly.
Let's go searching, searching after
Joy and mirth and love and laughter--
Let's go down the road together, you and I.
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I,
For the romance we are knowing
Waits for us, alive and glowing,
For the romance that has always passed us by.
Let's have done with tears and sighing,
What if summer-time is dying?
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I.
Let's go down the road together, you and I--
And if you are frightened lest you
Weary grow, my arms will rest you,
As we take the road together when the red leaves fly.
Springtime is the time for mating?
Ah, a deeper love is waiting
Down the autumn road that calls us, you and I!
Let's go down the road together, you and I,
Let's go down the road together,
Through the vivid autumn weather;
Let's go down the road together when the red leaves fly.
Let's go searching, searching after
Joy and mirth and love and laughter--
Let's go down the road together, you and I.
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I,
For the romance we are knowing
Waits for us, alive and glowing,
For the romance that has always passed us by.
Let's have done with tears and sighing,
What if summer-time is dying?
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I.
Let's go down the road together, you and I--
And if you are frightened lest you
Weary grow, my arms will rest you,
As we take the road together when the red leaves fly.
Springtime is the time for mating?
Ah, a deeper love is waiting
Down the autumn road that calls us, you and I!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Fall / Back to School / Halloween Movies 1 & 2!
Okay, so someone forgot to tell the So. Cal weathermen but 85 degrees and sunny or not, it is officially Fall! So submit your Back-to-school / Fall / Halloween (nothing too scary) movies!
Another one I would propose but could not find a trailer for: Indian Summer
Submit your Back-to-school / Fall / Halloween movie suggestions in the comments section or e-mail them to matthew.m.linden@gmail.com !
First up, one of the greatest: The Dead Poet's Society
Another one I would propose but could not find a trailer for: Indian Summer
Submit your Back-to-school / Fall / Halloween movie suggestions in the comments section or e-mail them to matthew.m.linden@gmail.com !
65 Years Ago Today
FDR defends his dog
On this day in 1944, during a campaign dinner with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union, President Franklin D. Roosevelt makes a reference to his small dog, Fala, who had recently been the subject of a Republican political attack. The offense prompted Roosevelt to defend his dog’s honor and his own reputation.
On this day in 1944, during a campaign dinner with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union, President Franklin D. Roosevelt makes a reference to his small dog, Fala, who had recently been the subject of a Republican political attack. The offense prompted Roosevelt to defend his dog’s honor and his own reputation.
First Artwork
This is Annie's first piece artwork that she brought home from "school".
The yellow is obviously her little handprints. The red and blue are her fingerprints as well! The Kesslers presented this to us at the Big birthday bash a month or so ago and what a great surprise! It came mounted inside a glass-topped box that can hold additional artwork as time goes by.
Thanks Team Kess!
Angels and Demons
Angels and Demons was written by Dan Brown - the same author who wrote The DaVinci Code. It is another Professor Langdon story but was actually written before The DaVinci Code - it just didn't get as much publicity because it was not as controversial as TDC.
I liked TDC so much I thought I would pick it up. I enjoyed this one even more. Without giving too much away, the plot centers around a secret society intent on destroying Vatican City. To save the day, Robert Langdon has to follow a series of ancient clues and symbols through the streets of Rome.
The book also deals with intersection of science, faith and politics in what I felt was very even-handed and insightful way at times.
It is somewhat ironic to me that Dan Brown's first Langdon adventure was all about people desperately trying to protect the church and save the Vatican and went comparatively unnoticed.
TDC movie was such a disappointment that I doubt I will see the new Angels and Demons movie. Plus there are a handful of violent scenes in the book that I am not really sure I want to see on the big screen in any case.
If you like action adventure stories dealing with ancient religious symbols and texts, you may want to pick this one up. I am sort of hooked on the series and plan on picking up Dan Brown's new novel called Symbol which is set in the United States.
Chicken and Waffles
The bird - a leg and a thigh - is marinated in buttermilk and dredged in seasoned flour, then fried golden. The savory crunch of the chicken contrasts with the substantial waffle featuring heirloom grains from Bluebird Grain Farms. The waffle can be dunked or drizzled in warm syrup, depending on personal preference. (I'm a dunker.) A nicely bitter side of mustard greens is served on the side, cream gravy underneath.
THE LOW-DOWN
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Medical Update – 9/17/09 (Part 2)
Looking Ahead
So other than all the usual dentist and pediatric appointments that are par for the course with any infant, here is the run-down of what Annabelle’s medical calendar looks like between now and the end of February:
Physical Therapy: Every Monday and every-other Friday
On Mondays, the wife takes Annie to PT in El Cajon (25 min away). Every other Friday, a different therapist meets the wife and wee-one in our home. These appointments will continue indefinitely.
So other than all the usual dentist and pediatric appointments that are par for the course with any infant, here is the run-down of what Annabelle’s medical calendar looks like between now and the end of February:
Physical Therapy: Every Monday and every-other Friday
On Mondays, the wife takes Annie to PT in El Cajon (25 min away). Every other Friday, a different therapist meets the wife and wee-one in our home. These appointments will continue indefinitely.
Goals: Strength training for the upper body and continued work on mobility (commando crawl)
Occupational Therapy: Once every 2-3 months
The OT is in the same place as Monday’s PT so every couple months or so, the wife and Annie pull a double shift on Monday and see both PT and OT. Our Friday PT has OT connections as well who can come to the house as needed.
Occupational Therapy: Once every 2-3 months
The OT is in the same place as Monday’s PT so every couple months or so, the wife and Annie pull a double shift on Monday and see both PT and OT. Our Friday PT has OT connections as well who can come to the house as needed.
Goals: To keep Annie right on track with hand/eye coordination, eating, talking etc.
Neurology: Once every 6-12 months
Neuro will continue to monitor Annabelle’s head to make sure she does not develop any pressure or swelling due to hydrocephalus. Our next appointment is in February.
Neurology: Once every 6-12 months
Neuro will continue to monitor Annabelle’s head to make sure she does not develop any pressure or swelling due to hydrocephalus. Our next appointment is in February.
Goals: That the “3V” procedure was successful which will eventually render her VP Shunt unnecessary. That the VP shunt (if needed) continues to work properly and without complications .
Orthopedics (Spine): Once every 6-12 months
Orthopedics will continue to monitor Annabelle’s Kyphosis and do what can be done to reduce any worsening of the curvature. We are in the process of scheduling an appointment for the next week or so in order for them to re-evaluate the soft-body-jacket they prescribed which aggravated the area of her pressure sore.
Orthopedics (Spine): Once every 6-12 months
Orthopedics will continue to monitor Annabelle’s Kyphosis and do what can be done to reduce any worsening of the curvature. We are in the process of scheduling an appointment for the next week or so in order for them to re-evaluate the soft-body-jacket they prescribed which aggravated the area of her pressure sore.
Goals: Prevent and correct the bend in Annabelle’s spine through bracing and strength exercises.
Plastic Surgery: Once every 3 weeks
PS will continue to monitor the spot on Annabelle’s spine where the pressure sore developed. We will be going in every 2-3 weeks until it is healed.
Plastic Surgery: Once every 3 weeks
PS will continue to monitor the spot on Annabelle’s spine where the pressure sore developed. We will be going in every 2-3 weeks until it is healed.
Goals: Complete healing of this sore and avoidance of any pressure sores in the future.
Urology: Once every 6-12 months
Urology will continue to monitor Annie’s bladder and bowel function. As Annabelle approaches the age of potty-training, any developmental differences will become more apparent. We are taking this whole thing one step at a time and are preparing ourselves to possibly have to begin a cathing regime after our next appointment in February.
Urology: Once every 6-12 months
Urology will continue to monitor Annie’s bladder and bowel function. As Annabelle approaches the age of potty-training, any developmental differences will become more apparent. We are taking this whole thing one step at a time and are preparing ourselves to possibly have to begin a cathing regime after our next appointment in February.
Goals: That Annabelle is able to potty train and that cathing is not necessary.
Orthopedics (Feet): Once every 3-6 months
There is a chance that Annabelle’s feet could start to regress towards their clubbed position so Ortho will monitor the growth and development of her feet to make sure they stay in the proper position and do not have further complications.
Orthopedics (Feet): Once every 3-6 months
There is a chance that Annabelle’s feet could start to regress towards their clubbed position so Ortho will monitor the growth and development of her feet to make sure they stay in the proper position and do not have further complications.
Goals: That Annie’s feet stay in the proper position.
So in terms of official medical appointments (not including therapy) I would guess we will have 9 or so total in the next 5 months. Not bad, really.
Home Care: 2x a Day, Every Day
Along with all the official medical stuff, we give Annie a break from her AFO boots twice a day for a couple hours each. The wife has been good about rubbing scar minimizing ointment in all the right places. The wife also does therapy with Annie twice a day as well – working on sitting, rolling, crawling etc.
Parents:
I suppose I can only speak for myself . . . the shunt and hydrocephalus are not constant worries to me anymore. Sure, if Annie cries in the middle of the night, doesn’t want to eat or is fussy (almost never) there is always that nagging echo of, "Is this normal or is her pressure building up?" But I don’t think about it everyday any more. Annie’s feet are something of a long-term concern. It doesn’t stress me out right now – but I am concerned that they grow and develop properly. The prospect of cathing isn’t as big a deal to me as it once was and I don’t feel too much anxiety about that either.
The spine though, that stresses me out in a big way on a daily basis. It’s one thing if your child has a problem that requires surgery – at least it will get fixed. But to say, “Your child has this condition and there is nothing we can do about it right now and she may get worse . . . “ Ugggghh . . . it makes me want to shake somebody. But we are continuing to trust God and do what we are able. Here we are in any case. This is our “New Normal”.
Through it all, Annabelle continues to be a total joy – laughing and giggling and “getting on with it” every day. The dear wife exudes a hidden strength and a fierce determination to work with Annie and the therapists to force the best outcome possible. Me? I am just trying to keep up with the two of them.
Oh, and Buckley is great too – stinky right now – but even so, the world’s best dawg.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!
So in terms of official medical appointments (not including therapy) I would guess we will have 9 or so total in the next 5 months. Not bad, really.
Home Care: 2x a Day, Every Day
Along with all the official medical stuff, we give Annie a break from her AFO boots twice a day for a couple hours each. The wife has been good about rubbing scar minimizing ointment in all the right places. The wife also does therapy with Annie twice a day as well – working on sitting, rolling, crawling etc.
Parents:
I suppose I can only speak for myself . . . the shunt and hydrocephalus are not constant worries to me anymore. Sure, if Annie cries in the middle of the night, doesn’t want to eat or is fussy (almost never) there is always that nagging echo of, "Is this normal or is her pressure building up?" But I don’t think about it everyday any more. Annie’s feet are something of a long-term concern. It doesn’t stress me out right now – but I am concerned that they grow and develop properly. The prospect of cathing isn’t as big a deal to me as it once was and I don’t feel too much anxiety about that either.
The spine though, that stresses me out in a big way on a daily basis. It’s one thing if your child has a problem that requires surgery – at least it will get fixed. But to say, “Your child has this condition and there is nothing we can do about it right now and she may get worse . . . “ Ugggghh . . . it makes me want to shake somebody. But we are continuing to trust God and do what we are able. Here we are in any case. This is our “New Normal”.
Through it all, Annabelle continues to be a total joy – laughing and giggling and “getting on with it” every day. The dear wife exudes a hidden strength and a fierce determination to work with Annie and the therapists to force the best outcome possible. Me? I am just trying to keep up with the two of them.
Oh, and Buckley is great too – stinky right now – but even so, the world’s best dawg.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!
Tradeoffs
TMST had a great post about owning your own business a few days back.
Every expense is your expense. You buy the pens, the paper, the ink jet cartridges, and you are the one who has to re-stock the supply closet. You are the one who puts the little labels on the files. You are the IT guy. You take out the trash and you clean out the fridge. You make the coffee. No one brings you a cup, and no one cleans it for you when you're done with it, unless your spouse is in a good mood.
Your spouse is your boss, and your employee. Communication with your spouse is necessary, constant. All business meetings include household disputes, utility costs, personal interests, and scheduling around childcare. You must get along with your boss/employee at all costs, otherwise, again, all will crumble. Profitability depends on it. Domestic tranquility depends on it. Your sex life depends on it.
I was going to blather on about my career history and all the trade-offs of being self-employed or otherwise and blah blah blah but even I started to lose interest after a couple of paragraphs.
Teaser:
Your spouse is your boss, and your employee. Communication with your spouse is necessary, constant. All business meetings include household disputes, utility costs, personal interests, and scheduling around childcare. You must get along with your boss/employee at all costs, otherwise, again, all will crumble. Profitability depends on it. Domestic tranquility depends on it. Your sex life depends on it.
I was going to blather on about my career history and all the trade-offs of being self-employed or otherwise and blah blah blah but even I started to lose interest after a couple of paragraphs.
Short version: For most people, being self-employed is no harder or easier than being an employee - it's a matter of trade-offs and personal tastes - you just have to decide if you prefer a sharp stick in your left eye or your right eye.
The post at TMST is good though.
The post at TMST is good though.
Times They Are a Changin'
So about this time last year, after months of keeping everyone posted on our pregnancy and about four weeks after we got Annabelle home, I started receiving some pretty startling and nasty comments on the blog. No point in going into details but it was some of the worst things anyone could say to a new parent of a medically fragile child. I would delete the comments as soon as I saw them so that no one else had to be subjected to them and I ended up rejiggering the site so that all comments had to be approved by me before they would post. Magically the nasty comments stopped.
Dooce is one of the most popular blogs on the Internet (language warning). It is crass and irreverent at times but also poignant and reflective at other times. Apparently the hate mail she gets is staggering. So she decided to figure out a way to cash in on it and started an off-shoot site called dooce.com/hate where she posts the hate mail along with gobs of money-making advertisements (WARNING: It is not a nice place – I couldn’t get through more than a couple comments before my blood pressure started to rise and I had to shut it down).
Well the other day The Daily Coyote had an interesting take on the “hate mail” phenom.
Teaser:
I get hate mail, too, and it, too, rapidly leaves my mind. When I first started getting hate mail, it did affect me, though not for the reason most people would assume. It didn’t make me feel bad about myself - rather, my thoughts were more along the lines of, “this person doesn’t understand the whole picture - they’re jumping to an ill-conceived conclusion, and I must clarify the situation for them because then they’ll understand!” Naive? Perhaps. Major time suckage? Absolutely. I have since come to a place in myself where I allow people out there to hold whatever conclusions about me that they do, simply because I have things I’d rather be doing with my time than convincing strangers I’m decent.
I just find the whole subject fascinating and thought you might as well.
And while we are on the subject of how the Internet is changing things, I saw an interesting post on whether the Internet is dumbing down society.
Teaser:
The first thing she found is that young people today write far more than any generation before them. That’s because so much socializing takes place online, and it almost always involves text. Of all the writing that the Stanford students did, a stunning 38 percent of it took place out of the classroom—life writing, as Lunsford calls it. Those Twitter updates and lists of 25 things about yourself add up.
It’s almost hard to remember how big a paradigm shift this is. Before the Internet came along, most Americans never wrote anything, ever, that wasn’t a school assignment. Unless they got a job that required producing text (like in law, advertising, or media), they’d leave school and virtually never construct a paragraph again.
Enjoy!
Dooce is one of the most popular blogs on the Internet (language warning). It is crass and irreverent at times but also poignant and reflective at other times. Apparently the hate mail she gets is staggering. So she decided to figure out a way to cash in on it and started an off-shoot site called dooce.com/hate where she posts the hate mail along with gobs of money-making advertisements (WARNING: It is not a nice place – I couldn’t get through more than a couple comments before my blood pressure started to rise and I had to shut it down).
Well the other day The Daily Coyote had an interesting take on the “hate mail” phenom.
Teaser:
I get hate mail, too, and it, too, rapidly leaves my mind. When I first started getting hate mail, it did affect me, though not for the reason most people would assume. It didn’t make me feel bad about myself - rather, my thoughts were more along the lines of, “this person doesn’t understand the whole picture - they’re jumping to an ill-conceived conclusion, and I must clarify the situation for them because then they’ll understand!” Naive? Perhaps. Major time suckage? Absolutely. I have since come to a place in myself where I allow people out there to hold whatever conclusions about me that they do, simply because I have things I’d rather be doing with my time than convincing strangers I’m decent.
I just find the whole subject fascinating and thought you might as well.
And while we are on the subject of how the Internet is changing things, I saw an interesting post on whether the Internet is dumbing down society.
Teaser:
The first thing she found is that young people today write far more than any generation before them. That’s because so much socializing takes place online, and it almost always involves text. Of all the writing that the Stanford students did, a stunning 38 percent of it took place out of the classroom—life writing, as Lunsford calls it. Those Twitter updates and lists of 25 things about yourself add up.
It’s almost hard to remember how big a paradigm shift this is. Before the Internet came along, most Americans never wrote anything, ever, that wasn’t a school assignment. Unless they got a job that required producing text (like in law, advertising, or media), they’d leave school and virtually never construct a paragraph again.
Enjoy!
Turkey Burger Pie
"'This recipe saved the day when I came home from the hospital after delivering our son,' recalls Danielle Monai of Brooklyn Heights, Ohio. 'It requires just six ingredients and bakes in less that half an hour, so I can have this hearty dinner on the table in a jiffy.'"RECIPE HERE
Monday, September 21, 2009
Medical Update - 9/17/09 (Part 1)
As I mentioned before, Annabelle has a Kyphosis. Basically, her spine has a significant bend just above her lower back. To look at her when she is dressed and sitting in a highchair or car seat, you would never notice. But when she lays on her tummy there is a good-sized bony bump. You can definitely feel it when you hold her.
Rather than rehash it all, you can check the previous post about what can or can’t be done about it.
The reason for our trip to the plastic surgeon this past Thursday was because it appears Annie is developing a pressure sore on that bump.
Pressure sores can range from “concerning” to downright deadly in the most extreme cases. So here is pressure Sore 101:
When you sit and watch a movie or even while you are laying in bed, your skeleton is being pulled downward by gravity. Your muscles, tissue and skin are serving as a cushion between your skeleton and your seat, chair or bed. The trouble is, the weight of your bones will cause some parts of your body to lose circulation. Your skeleton literally squeezes the blood out of spots in your muscles etc. This is what causes you to shift in your chair or roll over in bed. Your body is sending you signals of discomfort in an effort to get you to shift positions and keep the circulation flowing.
But what if you don’t have any feeling in certain parts of your body? How would you know to shift?
People who are wheelchair bound have to be constantly vigilant against pressure sores. In fact, some even go so far as to set a wristwatch alarm for every 30 minutes to remind them to shift positions.
Otherwise, areas of muscle and soft tissue will never get proper circulation and without circulation, the tissues in your body begin to die. This is what makes pressure sores so difficult. The sore starts from the inside and works it’s way out. By the time you see it on the skin, the damage is far more severe underneath.
On a scale of 1-10, (having absolutely no experience in pressure sores) I would put Annie’s at a two or three. We have started placing her on her tummy for sleeping and she has adapted just fine. I went to the local fabric store and bought some 1-inch-thick foam, cut out a square about the size of Annie’s torso and then cut a square out of the middle where her bump is. We use the foam whenever we place her in her highchair or car seat so that we minimize any pressure on the sore.
Rather than rehash it all, you can check the previous post about what can or can’t be done about it.
The reason for our trip to the plastic surgeon this past Thursday was because it appears Annie is developing a pressure sore on that bump.
Pressure sores can range from “concerning” to downright deadly in the most extreme cases. So here is pressure Sore 101:
When you sit and watch a movie or even while you are laying in bed, your skeleton is being pulled downward by gravity. Your muscles, tissue and skin are serving as a cushion between your skeleton and your seat, chair or bed. The trouble is, the weight of your bones will cause some parts of your body to lose circulation. Your skeleton literally squeezes the blood out of spots in your muscles etc. This is what causes you to shift in your chair or roll over in bed. Your body is sending you signals of discomfort in an effort to get you to shift positions and keep the circulation flowing.
But what if you don’t have any feeling in certain parts of your body? How would you know to shift?
People who are wheelchair bound have to be constantly vigilant against pressure sores. In fact, some even go so far as to set a wristwatch alarm for every 30 minutes to remind them to shift positions.
Otherwise, areas of muscle and soft tissue will never get proper circulation and without circulation, the tissues in your body begin to die. This is what makes pressure sores so difficult. The sore starts from the inside and works it’s way out. By the time you see it on the skin, the damage is far more severe underneath.
On a scale of 1-10, (having absolutely no experience in pressure sores) I would put Annie’s at a two or three. We have started placing her on her tummy for sleeping and she has adapted just fine. I went to the local fabric store and bought some 1-inch-thick foam, cut out a square about the size of Annie’s torso and then cut a square out of the middle where her bump is. We use the foam whenever we place her in her highchair or car seat so that we minimize any pressure on the sore.
Her skin is healing and the spot is looking much better than it did a few days ago.
The catch-22 is that Annabelle needs to wear her body brace to help slow the curvature of her spine but the brace itself is causing the pressure sore. So for now, the plastic surgeon has ordered us to not use the brace and we need to go back to the Ortho doc for a new consult and either a modification to her brace if not a new brace altogether.
We will keep everyone posted!
I will post a 6-month outlook post in the next day or so that will give everyone an overview of what our medical calendar and looks like and what can be expected over the next few months.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support – it means more than you know.
The catch-22 is that Annabelle needs to wear her body brace to help slow the curvature of her spine but the brace itself is causing the pressure sore. So for now, the plastic surgeon has ordered us to not use the brace and we need to go back to the Ortho doc for a new consult and either a modification to her brace if not a new brace altogether.
We will keep everyone posted!
I will post a 6-month outlook post in the next day or so that will give everyone an overview of what our medical calendar and looks like and what can be expected over the next few months.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support – it means more than you know.
Sour Cream Burgers
“Lots of flavor, and a nice change from just a regular burger. You can make these ahead of time and freeze them. Serve on buns with all of your favorite toppings.”RECIPE HERE
High School Reunion
by Kelly-Anne Riess
I used to date him and hang out with his friends
we stole NO DUMPING signs
and placed them over toilets
we watched bad comedies and even worse
horror movies
we had dinner dates at Burger King
or Buffet Palace
our conversations — hockey this and baseball that
he seemed pretty good
but I had to lose him
and I did
he got into drugs after
high school
a year before
I started my Masters degree
I invited him for coffee once
he thought it was an intervention
there he is
look at him now
by the punch in that yellow suit jacket
I can't believe I ever dated him
watch
I bet he won't even come over to say hello
I used to date him and hang out with his friends
we stole NO DUMPING signs
and placed them over toilets
we watched bad comedies and even worse
horror movies
we had dinner dates at Burger King
or Buffet Palace
our conversations — hockey this and baseball that
he seemed pretty good
but I had to lose him
and I did
he got into drugs after
high school
a year before
I started my Masters degree
I invited him for coffee once
he thought it was an intervention
there he is
look at him now
by the punch in that yellow suit jacket
I can't believe I ever dated him
watch
I bet he won't even come over to say hello
Saturday, September 19, 2009
128 Years Ago Today
President James Garfield dies
On this day in 1881, President James A. Garfield, who had been in office just under four months, succumbs to wounds inflicted by an assassin 80 days earlier, on July 2.
On this day in 1881, President James A. Garfield, who had been in office just under four months, succumbs to wounds inflicted by an assassin 80 days earlier, on July 2.
Dude, I Think You Have Had Enough . . .
Allrighty . . . maybe it's just me . . .
Once again, maybe stay home. No swimsuits at the bar, no sleeping in hay.
But when you are drinking (and spilling) so much beer that you donne a swimsuit before celebrating Oktoberfest, it may be time to just stay home . . .
In other news, people are now paying $$ to sleep in hay bales while travelling
Once again, maybe stay home. No swimsuits at the bar, no sleeping in hay.
They should combine the two! Anyone who shows up in a swimsuit has to sit in the hay room. That way, the hay soaks up the spills and the party-goers can just pass out in a hay-filled corner when the time comes. Next morning, let the barnyard animals in to chase everybody out.
Always thinkin' . . . . .
Friday, September 18, 2009
216 Years Ago Today
Capitol cornerstone is laid
On this day in 1793, George Washington lays the cornerstone to the United States Capitol building, the home of the legislative branch of American government. The building would take nearly a century to complete, as architects came and went, the British set fire to it and it was called into use during the Civil War. Today, the Capitol building, with its famous cast-iron dome and important collection of American art, is part of the Capitol Complex, which includes six Congressional office buildings and three Library of Congress buildings, all developed in the 19th and 20th centuries.
On this day in 1793, George Washington lays the cornerstone to the United States Capitol building, the home of the legislative branch of American government. The building would take nearly a century to complete, as architects came and went, the British set fire to it and it was called into use during the Civil War. Today, the Capitol building, with its famous cast-iron dome and important collection of American art, is part of the Capitol Complex, which includes six Congressional office buildings and three Library of Congress buildings, all developed in the 19th and 20th centuries.
Quote of the day
The worst thing about the sixties wasn’t the sixties. It was the seventies.
- Lileks
- Lileks
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wait Out the Days
By Rocky Votolato
When memory is a blank page
and the teeth in your mouth are all cliche
your heart is a bag of rocks
and your soul is a pile of ashes on the sidewalk
there's an eagle scout project
I used to come to feel some kind of magic
and now the story lives
we'll wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
the catch 22's are all catching up with you
they're laying all over the middle ground
you're walking on to avoid them and its too late to turn around
on the corner of Morrison
there's a shop that sells bracelets and little glass ornaments
looking in you can feel the magic
and wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything that life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
When memory is a blank page
and the teeth in your mouth are all cliche
your heart is a bag of rocks
and your soul is a pile of ashes on the sidewalk
there's an eagle scout project
I used to come to feel some kind of magic
and now the story lives
we'll wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
the catch 22's are all catching up with you
they're laying all over the middle ground
you're walking on to avoid them and its too late to turn around
on the corner of Morrison
there's a shop that sells bracelets and little glass ornaments
looking in you can feel the magic
and wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
wait out the days
'till death comes to claim anything that life didn't already take
you can wait out the days
Salmon Swimmers
Presented as a trio on a white plate, the small buttery buns hold hefty chunks of salmon and are topped with shredded cabbage and a dollop of lemon dill mayonnaise. Aside from being a great deal, they are amazingly good.I Am Feeling Thinner Already
So just to make sure I understand . . .
Wine = Good for You
Beer = Good for You
Wine = Good for You
Bacon = . . . . well, so far we just have the claim of the kid on that YouTube video
This Just In!
Sugar = Weight Loss!
Now I just have to wait for the Surgeon General to recommend that men carry and additional 20 lbs over what was previously thought healthy and exercise no more than 10 hours a year and I am golden!
Quote of the Day
Can’t say I miss summer, because it’s still here. I do miss the old sounds of summer. The piano, bikes with playing cards in the spokes, a car drifting by with an AM radio playing a song with an actual melody.
- Lileks
- Lileks
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Fatherhood
Dilemma: You are home alone with your two girls (ages 9 and 2). They need to be entertained.
Solution: Grab a baseball bat and head down to the pig pen.
Ahhhh . . . fatherhood.
Solution: Grab a baseball bat and head down to the pig pen.
Ahhhh . . . fatherhood.
Quote of the Day
When it comes to parenting tools, it's tough to beat a wood stove. Pick up your room, we say, because . . .because . . . never mind what Daddy's room looks like! Daddy is not the subject here! Daddy is a full-on poster boy of undiagnosed behavioral disorders!
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Be nice to everyone, we say, because . . . because . . . Yes, even that lady who "waved" at Daddy in the Wal-Mart parking lot . . . and the snotty little ingrate who stole your beach bucket . . . Why?Because . . . because . . . well, because passive-aggressive is the only way to roll, sweetheart.
In other words, how does one convey cause and effect to a six-year-old?
By having her haul firewood, that's how. You wanna lie around toasting your tootsies, darling daughter? Then get out there and lug some cellulose.
- From Coop by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Trimming the Verge
I love this photo - it looks like someone is standing in a ditch taking a photo of me trimming the grass at sunset.
In reality, I am perched precariously atop the patio cover over our back deck trying to spruce up the place before the big party last month. The deck cover is made up of wood lattice overlaid by palapa (think grass hula skirts). It sort of gives the place a Baja Winery feel that we are going for.
Here's another shot:
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A Wife Explains Why She Likes Country
by Barbara Ras
Because those cows in the bottomland are black and white, colors
anyone can understand, even against the green
of the grass, where they glide like yes and no, nothing in between,
because in country, heartache has nowhere to hide,
it's the Church of Abundant Life, the Alamo,
the hubbub of the hoi polloi, the parallel lines of rail fences,
because I like rodeos more than golf,
because there's something about the sound of mealworms and
leeches and the dream of a double-wide
that reminds me this is America, because of the simple pleasure
of a last chance, because sometimes whiskey
tastes better than wine, because hauling hogs on the road
is as good as it gets when the big bodies are layered like pigs in a cake,
not one layer but two,
because only country has a gun with a full choke and a slide guitar
that melts playing it cool into sweaty surrender in one note,
because in country you can smoke forever and it'll never kill you,
because roadbeds, flatbeds, your bed or mine,
because the package store is right across from the chicken plant
and it sells boiled peanuts, because I'm fixin' to wear boots to the dance
and make my hair bigger, because no smarty-pants, just easy rhymes,
perfect love, because I'm lost deep within myself and the sad songs call me out,
because even you with your superior aesthetic cried
when Tammy Wynette died,
because my people
come from dirt.
Because those cows in the bottomland are black and white, colors
anyone can understand, even against the green
of the grass, where they glide like yes and no, nothing in between,
because in country, heartache has nowhere to hide,
it's the Church of Abundant Life, the Alamo,
the hubbub of the hoi polloi, the parallel lines of rail fences,
because I like rodeos more than golf,
because there's something about the sound of mealworms and
leeches and the dream of a double-wide
that reminds me this is America, because of the simple pleasure
of a last chance, because sometimes whiskey
tastes better than wine, because hauling hogs on the road
is as good as it gets when the big bodies are layered like pigs in a cake,
not one layer but two,
because only country has a gun with a full choke and a slide guitar
that melts playing it cool into sweaty surrender in one note,
because in country you can smoke forever and it'll never kill you,
because roadbeds, flatbeds, your bed or mine,
because the package store is right across from the chicken plant
and it sells boiled peanuts, because I'm fixin' to wear boots to the dance
and make my hair bigger, because no smarty-pants, just easy rhymes,
perfect love, because I'm lost deep within myself and the sad songs call me out,
because even you with your superior aesthetic cried
when Tammy Wynette died,
because my people
come from dirt.
Quote of the Day
A weekend of unsurpassed gorgeosity. We always lie to ourselves and say that the first half of September is summer, technically, but this year it’s so. It’s true. Hot, a kiss of humidity, and almost a wet sloppy half-drunk one, too. Yes, Clear Liquor Season was reinstated, contrary to all precedents. The switch to an evening bourbon is one of those things a man does with deliberation; it’s a statement, a verdict, a declaration that the romp over the Elysian Fields of summer have ended, and a fellow must take up more serious pursuits. But summer in the middle of September is like love in your old age; makes a fool of you, and you don’t care.
- Lileks
- Lileks
Monday, September 14, 2009
Quote of the Day
For my brother, there are dark days ahead. The house, suffused with her memory, the most perverse sort of tease. Her horses, her pet goat, her empty saddle in the hog shed. This buddy of mine called, and I think he put it well. "The tough times start," he said, "the day the last casserole dish is returned."
- From Population 485 by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
- From Population 485 by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
108 Years Ago Today
President William McKinley dies from gunshot wounds
On this day in 1901, President William McKinley succumbs to gunshot wounds inflicted by an assassin on September 6. According to witnesses, McKinley’s last words were those of the hymn "Nearer My God to Thee."
On this day in 1901, President William McKinley succumbs to gunshot wounds inflicted by an assassin on September 6. According to witnesses, McKinley’s last words were those of the hymn "Nearer My God to Thee."
Um, Are These Flowers the Eating Kind, Digging Kind, or Just the Look-at Kind?
(The Digging kind is my favorite . . .)
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Quote of the Day
I have knelt beside a wrecked car, seen a burly forty-year-old shaking with pain and fear, and realized the last time I saw him he was steaming under the bright lights of the hometown football field, running his body like a weapon. I superimpose the image in my head over the image before me, and try to keep the new one from displacing the old one, so that later i can ponder the contrast and see what it might teach me. The lesson never concludes, but I'm getting parts of it. i understand that what you're doing when you dial 911 - it sounds so perfunctory - is announcing to strangers that you are losing the battle. I no longer have the strength, I no longer have the answer, the trouble is winning, and won't you please come help?"
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
- From Population 485 by Michael Perry
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
The DaVinci Code
Years ago a book came out called "The Bible Code" or something to that effect. Billing itself as non-fiction, the book claimed that you could take the text of the Bible, count so many pages in, count so many lines down and then letters in and then multiply that by the square root of the circumference of the earth to count more lines and letters down which were then multiplied by your 8th grade GPA . . . in the end, all the letters you circled would spell out "Paul is dead" or some sort of nonsense.
Working for a church at the time, people asked my opinion of the whole thing; to which I would relate the parable of the farmer:
Spit-shined Salesman: Farmer Brown! With my new set of farming encyclopedias, you will be able to improve your crop yield 50%!
Grizzled Farmer Brown: Son, I already know more about farming than I am putting into practice - why would I want to learn anything new that I won't be putting into practice?
I would usually follow up with: I am having enough trouble with the things that the Bible says in plain sight: Love your neighbor as yourself - love is patient and kind . . .
Once I get a handle on all the obvious stuff, I will consider looking for hidden stuff . . .
That usually ended the conversation.
When the DaVinci Code came out, it was quite the phenom and once again, a handful of people wanted my opinion on it. My response was usually along the lines of: When you went to Barnes and Noble, what section did you find the book in?
Friend: Fiction.
Me: You want to know why it was in fiction?
Friend: Why?!
Me: Because the author says he made the whole thing up.
That usually ended the conversation.
=SPOILER ALERT=
Recently, I was reminded that despite the controversy, the book was a great read. So it seemed like the perfect airplane book when we were at the airport last weekend.
LOVED IT.
First of all, the idea that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married and had children is a heresy that goes back to the dawning of Christianity itself. Author Dan Brown did not make it up - he just used it to create a mystery-thriller that made him a multi-millionaire. I say good for him.
I am not saying the DaVinci Code rises to the level of great literature - I am saying it is a great summer read - a light and fun page-turner (I read it in a week - a busy week at that).
The heretical aspects did not bother me one bit - as someone who probably has a better than average grasp on theology, scripture and church history (I do have a degree in Theology afterall . . . I know, I am marking you all down as VERY impressed . . .) - the premise is so far fetched that it just doesn't even register with me on the "burn the heretic at the stake-o-meter".
The wife asked me, "As a believer, shouldn't you be troubled that someone has written a heretical book about Jesus?"
To which I replied, *shrug*.
As I said, author Dan Brown did not create the Mary Magdalene heresy (it has been around almost since Christ himself - and the church has done just fine, thank you) he just repackaged it. Brilliantly, I might add. And it is not as if the author is proposing this as non-fiction truth - he clearly states that it is a fiction - a product of his own imagination - so the idea that this author has some sort of nefarious agenda is just sort of silly.
No, I think what makes The DaVinci Code so controversial is that is exposes the astonishing ignorance that many people have when it comes to scripture, theology and church history. Any believer gets their hackles up about the DaVinci code should probably put down the Danielle Steele novel they are reading and spend a little more time studying their own faith and resulting philosophies rather than perusing the fiction section at the local bookstore.
I thought it was a great read - totally fun and fascinating.
BTW - the movie has a great cast but I felt it was a poor representation of the book. Much of the information in the book is left out in the movie. Much of the book material that they did use is rearranged and there are whole swaths of dialogue in the movie that do not exist in the book. If I had watched the movie before reading the book I probably would have lost all interest in reading the story.
195 Years Ago Today
Key pens Star-Spangled Banner
On this day in 1814, Francis Scott Key pens a poem which is later set to music and in 1931 becomes America's national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner." The poem, originally titled "The Defence of Fort McHenry," was written after Key witnessed the Maryland fort being bombarded by the British during the War of 1812. Key was inspired by the sight of a lone U.S. flag still flying over Fort McHenry at daybreak, as reflected in the now-famous words of the "Star-Spangled Banner": "And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there."
On this day in 1814, Francis Scott Key pens a poem which is later set to music and in 1931 becomes America's national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner." The poem, originally titled "The Defence of Fort McHenry," was written after Key witnessed the Maryland fort being bombarded by the British during the War of 1812. Key was inspired by the sight of a lone U.S. flag still flying over Fort McHenry at daybreak, as reflected in the now-famous words of the "Star-Spangled Banner": "And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there."
Saturday, September 12, 2009
All I Need
By Mat Kearney
Here it comes it's all blowing in tonight
I woke up this morning to a blood red sky
They're burning on the bridge turning off the lights
We're on the run I can see it in your eyes
If nothing is safe then I don't understand
You call me your boy but I'm trying to be the man
One more day and it's all slipping with the sand
You touch my lips and grab the back of my hand
The back of my hand
Guess we both know we're in over our heads
We got nowhere to go and no home that's left
The water is rising on a river turning red
It all might be OK or we might be dead
If everything we've got is slipping away
I meant what I said when I said until my dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all gone black but you're all I see
You're all I see
The walls are shaking, I hear them sound the alarm
Glass is breaking so don't let go of my arm
Grab your bags and a picture of where we met
All that we'll leave behind and all that's left
If everything we've got is blowing away
We've got a rock and a rock till our dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all we got but it's all I need
You're all I need
And if all we've got, is what no one can break,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take,
the tears are coming down, they're mixing with the rain,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take.
A pool is running for miles on the concrete ground
We're eight feet deep and the rain is still coming down
The TV's playing it all out of town
We're grabbing at the fray for something that won't drown
Here it comes it's all blowing in tonight
I woke up this morning to a blood red sky
They're burning on the bridge turning off the lights
We're on the run I can see it in your eyes
If nothing is safe then I don't understand
You call me your boy but I'm trying to be the man
One more day and it's all slipping with the sand
You touch my lips and grab the back of my hand
The back of my hand
Guess we both know we're in over our heads
We got nowhere to go and no home that's left
The water is rising on a river turning red
It all might be OK or we might be dead
If everything we've got is slipping away
I meant what I said when I said until my dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all gone black but you're all I see
You're all I see
The walls are shaking, I hear them sound the alarm
Glass is breaking so don't let go of my arm
Grab your bags and a picture of where we met
All that we'll leave behind and all that's left
If everything we've got is blowing away
We've got a rock and a rock till our dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all we got but it's all I need
You're all I need
And if all we've got, is what no one can break,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take,
the tears are coming down, they're mixing with the rain,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take.
A pool is running for miles on the concrete ground
We're eight feet deep and the rain is still coming down
The TV's playing it all out of town
We're grabbing at the fray for something that won't drown
Pandora
So I am at my desk the other day and the Ipod kicks up a great song . . . "Who is this?" I wonder . . .
Lo and behold it is a song by needtobreathe that I hadn't heard in a long time . . . I was in the mood to hear more music in a similar vein but alas! I only had the one song.
That's when I remembered that my friend Steve had mentioned an online program called Pandora.
All you do is enter in the name of the song or the artist and Pandora creates a radio station just for you with music that is similar. Works great. Totally free.
Happy listening!
Thanks Steve!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Home By Now
by Meg Kearney
New Hampshire air curls my hair like a child's
hand curls around a finger. "Children?" No,
we tell the realtor, but maybe a dog or two.
They'll bark at the mail car (Margaret's
Chevy Supreme) and chase the occasional
moose here in this place where doors are left
unlocked and it's Code Green from sun-up,
meaning go ahead and feel relieved—
the terrorists are back where you left them
on East 20th Street and Avenue C. In New York
we stocked our emergency packs with whistles
and duct tape. In New England, precautions take
a milder hue: don't say "pig" on a lobster boat
or paint the hull blue. Your friends in the city
say they'll miss you but don't blame you—they
still cringe each time a plane's overhead,
one ear cocked for the other shoe.
New Hampshire air curls my hair like a child's
hand curls around a finger. "Children?" No,
we tell the realtor, but maybe a dog or two.
They'll bark at the mail car (Margaret's
Chevy Supreme) and chase the occasional
moose here in this place where doors are left
unlocked and it's Code Green from sun-up,
meaning go ahead and feel relieved—
the terrorists are back where you left them
on East 20th Street and Avenue C. In New York
we stocked our emergency packs with whistles
and duct tape. In New England, precautions take
a milder hue: don't say "pig" on a lobster boat
or paint the hull blue. Your friends in the city
say they'll miss you but don't blame you—they
still cringe each time a plane's overhead,
one ear cocked for the other shoe.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Stupid Guy Tricks
I am sorry but this is just plain hilarious.
If I were ten years younger, I would be making a list of friends to try this out on . . . .
I'm all grown up and mature now . . . Hey! I gots a kid an' all . . .!
Monday, September 7, 2009
196 Years Ago Today
United States nicknamed Uncle Sam
On this day in 1813, the United States gets its nickname, Uncle Sam. The name is linked to Samuel Wilson, a meat packer from Troy, New York, who supplied barrels of beef to the United States Army during the War of 1812. Wilson (1766-1854) stamped the barrels with "U.S." for United States, but soldiers began referring to the grub as "Uncle Sam's." The local newspaper picked up on the story and Uncle Sam eventually gained widespread acceptance as the nickname for the U.S. federal government.
On this day in 1813, the United States gets its nickname, Uncle Sam. The name is linked to Samuel Wilson, a meat packer from Troy, New York, who supplied barrels of beef to the United States Army during the War of 1812. Wilson (1766-1854) stamped the barrels with "U.S." for United States, but soldiers began referring to the grub as "Uncle Sam's." The local newspaper picked up on the story and Uncle Sam eventually gained widespread acceptance as the nickname for the U.S. federal government.
Quote of the Day
In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers.
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Sunday, September 6, 2009
108 Years Ago Today
President William McKinley is shot
On this day in 1901, President William McKinley is shaking hands at the Pan-American Exhibition in Buffalo, New York, when a 28-year-old anarchist named Leon Czolgosz approaches him and fires two shots into his chest. The president rose slightly on his toes before collapsing forward, saying "be careful how you tell my wife."
On this day in 1901, President William McKinley is shaking hands at the Pan-American Exhibition in Buffalo, New York, when a 28-year-old anarchist named Leon Czolgosz approaches him and fires two shots into his chest. The president rose slightly on his toes before collapsing forward, saying "be careful how you tell my wife."
Quote of the Day
But what is this lesson that the book of Jonah teaches ? Shipmates, it is a two-stranded lesson; a lesson to us all as sinful men, and a lesson to me as a pilot of the living God. As sinful men, it is a lesson to us all, because it is a story of the sin, hard-heartedness, suddenly awakened fears, the swift punishment, repentance, prayers, and finally the deliverance and joy of Jonah. As with all sinners among men, the sin of this son of Amittai was in his wilful disobedience of the command of God—never mind now what that command was, or how conveyed—which he found a hard command. But all the things that God would have us do are hard for us to do—remember that—and hence, he oftener commands us than endeavours to persuade. And if we obey God, we must disobey ourselves; and it is in this disobeying ourselves, wherein the hardness of obeying God consists.
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Hot Wheels
For Annie's B-day, some friends gave her her first car!
Which was so funny to me since I had just recently read an article about how these little buggies were the new "hip" thing replacing strollers.
It will also be a great alternative for the wee-one once she is too big to carry but too "cool" for a stroller.
But THE BEST part about it all was it gave me an opportunity to TOTALLY DAD OUT.
Visions of Christmas Eve's to come . . .
And visions of Christmas mornings . . .
Pink! And a Convertible too! 16 years from now I will frame this photo next to the one of her first actual car . . .
Which was so funny to me since I had just recently read an article about how these little buggies were the new "hip" thing replacing strollers.
It will also be a great alternative for the wee-one once she is too big to carry but too "cool" for a stroller.
But THE BEST part about it all was it gave me an opportunity to TOTALLY DAD OUT.
Seriously, is there anything more daddish than putting together pieces of molded plastic for your daughter? (except maybe mowing the lawn on a Saturday morning).
Visions of Christmas Eve's to come . . .
And visions of Christmas mornings . . .
Pink! And a Convertible too! 16 years from now I will frame this photo next to the one of her first actual car . . . Quote of the Day
What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks ? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance ? Who ain't a slave ? Tell me that. Weft, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about—however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right: that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way—either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content.
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
- From Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Buy The Book - proceeds to benefit ACF
Friday, September 4, 2009
Medical Update 8/25/09 - Part 3
So after the Uyrodynamic study last week, the wife and I had a number of things to discuss, go over and decide.
The Nurse Practitioner said that it will be medically necessary to cath Annabelle eventually but that it was not medically necessary now – just recommended.
When you start cathing, the doctors want to you cath every 3-4 hours. This isn’t like trying to decide if you should give your child baby aspirin or cough medicine. We are talking about making a significant and on-going lifestyle change for our little family. To compound the decision-making process, the NP had not reviewed the ultrasound that we had just two weeks prior and was relying on an ultrasound from February.
The wife and I decided to hold off until we could get more information.
This past Tuesday, we met with the Urologist who had reviewed both the most recent ultrasound and the results of the study. He had a slightly different interpretation of the results. According to the doc, Annabelle’s situation is not that she does not fully contract her bladder but that her bladder is just undersized. After talking through some things, the doc said that he “thinks” Annie will need to be cathed around 4-5 years of age. To my ears, he sort of leaned on that word “think” and the message I got was that there may be the possibly that Annabelle can be potty trained but that he doubts it.
As far as I am concerned, that is reason enough to celebrate!
We are people of faith and we believe that God heals. That being said, when we have a headache, we don’t pray about it – we reach for the pain killers. So what to do in this situation? Start cathing because the doc thinks it will be inevitable or hold off and give God and nature some elbow room to work wonders?
The doc assured us that he would continue to monitor Annabelle closely and if and when she needs to be cathed, we will all know it. Our next check up is in 6 months.
So, for now, no cathing. We will review again in 6 months.
And thus it ends.
It has been 18 months of panic / survival mode with a major exam, procedure or hurdle always looming on the horizon and this Urodynamic Study was the last of them. I am officially declaring this medical marathon over. Where’s my free finish-line beer?! Where's my shiny metallic blanket that they are supposed to wrap around you?!
Some stats just for kicks - in the past 12 months there have been:
1 spinal surgery
3 brain surgeries
11 days spent in intensive care
The Nurse Practitioner said that it will be medically necessary to cath Annabelle eventually but that it was not medically necessary now – just recommended.
When you start cathing, the doctors want to you cath every 3-4 hours. This isn’t like trying to decide if you should give your child baby aspirin or cough medicine. We are talking about making a significant and on-going lifestyle change for our little family. To compound the decision-making process, the NP had not reviewed the ultrasound that we had just two weeks prior and was relying on an ultrasound from February.
The wife and I decided to hold off until we could get more information.
This past Tuesday, we met with the Urologist who had reviewed both the most recent ultrasound and the results of the study. He had a slightly different interpretation of the results. According to the doc, Annabelle’s situation is not that she does not fully contract her bladder but that her bladder is just undersized. After talking through some things, the doc said that he “thinks” Annie will need to be cathed around 4-5 years of age. To my ears, he sort of leaned on that word “think” and the message I got was that there may be the possibly that Annabelle can be potty trained but that he doubts it.
As far as I am concerned, that is reason enough to celebrate!
We are people of faith and we believe that God heals. That being said, when we have a headache, we don’t pray about it – we reach for the pain killers. So what to do in this situation? Start cathing because the doc thinks it will be inevitable or hold off and give God and nature some elbow room to work wonders?
The doc assured us that he would continue to monitor Annabelle closely and if and when she needs to be cathed, we will all know it. Our next check up is in 6 months.
So, for now, no cathing. We will review again in 6 months.
And thus it ends.
It has been 18 months of panic / survival mode with a major exam, procedure or hurdle always looming on the horizon and this Urodynamic Study was the last of them. I am officially declaring this medical marathon over. Where’s my free finish-line beer?! Where's my shiny metallic blanket that they are supposed to wrap around you?!
Some stats just for kicks - in the past 12 months there have been:
1 spinal surgery
3 brain surgeries
11 days spent in intensive care
2 nights spent in the general ward of the Hospital
2 feet surgeries
108 doctor's appointments at last count (though the calendar seems to have deleted whole swaths of appointments so I would peg it more like 125 or so)
Sure, we may have to lace up for another medical marathon some day. And we may have to get out and do a 5k or 10k from time to time as well. BUT THIS ONE IS OVER. And today, that is all that counts.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!
2 feet surgeries
108 doctor's appointments at last count (though the calendar seems to have deleted whole swaths of appointments so I would peg it more like 125 or so)
Sure, we may have to lace up for another medical marathon some day. And we may have to get out and do a 5k or 10k from time to time as well. BUT THIS ONE IS OVER. And today, that is all that counts.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!Leaving on a Jet Plane
Wife: You are going to eat chili for lunch and then get on the plan tonight? Great. I will be looking forward to sitting next to you on the flight.
So we are packing up for a long-overdue weekend in Sacramento with a family of friends. After spending so much time with her "brothers" at the TKA, it is going to be interesting to see how Annabelle reacts to her "sisters" Kathryn and Lauren.
Posting will be light if not non-existent this weekend.
ATTENTION BURGLARS: If you are planning to burgle us this weekend, there is a horrid green steamer trunk in the guest room that the wife and I have been arguing over for years. Feel free to take it.
Me: We aren't cartoons! Just because I have chili for lunch does not mean there will automatically be a problem!
Wife: (walking away muttering) Why don't you pack yourself a brand muffin and some prune juice to go with that chili of yours . . . .
So we are packing up for a long-overdue weekend in Sacramento with a family of friends. After spending so much time with her "brothers" at the TKA, it is going to be interesting to see how Annabelle reacts to her "sisters" Kathryn and Lauren.
Posting will be light if not non-existent this weekend.
ATTENTION BURGLARS: If you are planning to burgle us this weekend, there is a horrid green steamer trunk in the guest room that the wife and I have been arguing over for years. Feel free to take it.
As a good will gesture, you are welcome to take anything that will fit in the trunk. I suggest you start with the pile of clothes that are heaped in the bassinet as I am pretty sure those are going to Goodwill anyway. You should also give some consideration to the worn-out crappy PC in the family room but leave the external drive as that has all our photos and important documents in it.
Just don't wake up the dawg.
If you do wake up the dawg, you are going to have to use your own cell phone to dial 911 as the home phone still hasn't been hooked back up yet (that is assuming you can get your hand out of his mouth long enough to dial).
If worse comes to worse, our neighbor is retired and he most likely will come barging over when he hears your screaming. On the upside, Buckley really likes him and will probably "leave it" if our neighbor asks him to. On the downside, he is a gun-owner so, you know, he will probably insist that you to hang around until he can get you the proper medical and law-enforcement help that you need.
Happy burgling!
And happy Labor Day weekend!
Just don't wake up the dawg.
If you do wake up the dawg, you are going to have to use your own cell phone to dial 911 as the home phone still hasn't been hooked back up yet (that is assuming you can get your hand out of his mouth long enough to dial).
If worse comes to worse, our neighbor is retired and he most likely will come barging over when he hears your screaming. On the upside, Buckley really likes him and will probably "leave it" if our neighbor asks him to. On the downside, he is a gun-owner so, you know, he will probably insist that you to hang around until he can get you the proper medical and law-enforcement help that you need.
Happy burgling!
And happy Labor Day weekend!
Quote of the Day
I am in a motel. Running the basic cable. This video comes on. "Home," by Sheryl Crow. Everything is shot in black and white, that lustrous black and white with the silvery spray-paint sheen. Sheryl is singing at a demolition derby. The possibilities of heaven expand. The derby cars are jouncy and spring, tagged with ads for pressure washers and muffler shops. The drivers careen with earnest idiocy. Heads bobbling, radiators fuming, they smack each other tremendously, in stark contrast to the wistful adagio of the music. The camera cuts from the cars to the grandstand, dwelling on faces. Every face is different, but they share the patina of hard living. Wrinkles and wind scour. Pale brows and burnt napes. A women's skin, jerked and cured by a lifetime of cigarettes. A thin nosed child with bad teeth. A stiff-backed man with guarded eyes. A girl, maybe out of high school, pregnant and beaming, the old lady she will become already evident in her uncomplicated face. The boyfriend's hand, meaty and tan, cupping her belly. This is a powerful human study. Every countenance is proof of common verity. Proof of how station, time, and circumstance shape our visage. Every day I see these faces.
Sheryl, of course, is beautiful. She is exempt from our verity. She is standing amid the sheet metal and the dust and the hardscrabble rednecks and she is singing her soft, sad song, and - in a juxtaposition perhaps confirming the existence of God - she is wearing leather knee-boots and an abbreviated nightie. Between her hemline and her boot tops there is an equine stretch of thigh as to imply a lifetime of mystery and wonder. The song is ending. Cut to Sheryl standing atop a hay bale - O ineffable image! - at the lip of the mud boggers' racing pit. A beastly four-wheel-drive slams into the slurry. It screams through the frame, lifting a vast, chocolaty curtain of ooze, which obscures, then breaks (in delicious slow motion) over Sheryl, legs tad astraddle, head tipped back, arms held wide.
Awards should be arranged.
Behind her, my people rise to their feet and cheer.
Gawping at the TV, I make a noise. Sounds a little like a walrus.
- From Population 485 by Michael Perry
229 Years Ago Today
Bravery of Swamp Fox wins recruits at Blue Savannah
Marion, a mere five feet tall, won fame and the "Swamp Fox" moniker for his ability to strike and then quickly retreat into the South Carolina swamps without a trace. He also earned fame as the only senior Continental officer in the area to escape the British following the fall of Charleston on May 12, 1780. His military strategy is considered an 18th-century example of guerilla warfare and served as partial inspiration for Mel Gibson’s character, Benjamin Martin, in the film The Patriot (2000).
Marion, a mere five feet tall, won fame and the "Swamp Fox" moniker for his ability to strike and then quickly retreat into the South Carolina swamps without a trace. He also earned fame as the only senior Continental officer in the area to escape the British following the fall of Charleston on May 12, 1780. His military strategy is considered an 18th-century example of guerilla warfare and served as partial inspiration for Mel Gibson’s character, Benjamin Martin, in the film The Patriot (2000).
Puppies Behind Bars
NPR had a fascinating show on the other day looking into the Puppies Behind Bars program where puppies are trained by prison inmates to become bomb sniffers or service dogs to wounded veterans.
It is a real eye-opener into the unique types of services that service dawgs can provide.
Cpl. BANG-KNUDSEN: Sure. Samba has been trained specifically to mitigate the -my startle response. For example, any supermarket I remind - I think about like a Costco or something, you know, maybe a larger store with big aisles and walking around those corners is a stressor for me. And when - I think everybody's run into someone like coming around and meeting at the intersections of the aisles if, you know, you're coming around the corner, a blind corner in a supermarket. And while the normal reaction is, you know, excuse me, or you can laugh it off, the startle response for someone with PTSD, who already has their hypervigilance up, is something that it increases and can lead to sort of flashbacks of memories of war and being, you know, in a survival instinct, fight or flight situation.
So one of the commands that Gloria was speaking of earlier is we have Samba pop the corner, and what she does is she walks slightly ahead of me and simply looks around corners and identifies whether or not there's people there to me by stopping and looking at me. And we have what's called synchrony and Samba and I have been paired long enough that we are working together and are on the same schedule.
Teaser:
Cpl. BANG-KNUDSEN: Sure. Samba has been trained specifically to mitigate the -my startle response. For example, any supermarket I remind - I think about like a Costco or something, you know, maybe a larger store with big aisles and walking around those corners is a stressor for me. And when - I think everybody's run into someone like coming around and meeting at the intersections of the aisles if, you know, you're coming around the corner, a blind corner in a supermarket. And while the normal reaction is, you know, excuse me, or you can laugh it off, the startle response for someone with PTSD, who already has their hypervigilance up, is something that it increases and can lead to sort of flashbacks of memories of war and being, you know, in a survival instinct, fight or flight situation.
So one of the commands that Gloria was speaking of earlier is we have Samba pop the corner, and what she does is she walks slightly ahead of me and simply looks around corners and identifies whether or not there's people there to me by stopping and looking at me. And we have what's called synchrony and Samba and I have been paired long enough that we are working together and are on the same schedule.
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