Shaking A Few Things Loose

This week I feel a Big Purge coming on. As I was packing to go to the lake for the weekend, I noticed that there were several things in my closet that I hadn't worn all summer; in fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had worn them. Clearly, it's time for them to go. That made me think about the rolled-up rug in the office closet and the shoes in there that haven't been worn lately either. Time to box and bag things up and call my favourite charity, Vietnam Vets of America, and get them out here for a pickup. (As usual, I'll try to inspire Rick to--cue dread and doom music--go through his things as well, but I don't expect that to amount to anything.)

I'm also feeling the need to Purge a few Thought Nerfuls and Cerebral Clutterbits taking up space in my head, so I'm going to give it a rattle and see what shakes loose.

BOOBS.  As in, mine are because I am Rebelling and refusing to wear a bra for the rest of the summer as of about two weeks ago. Now, to be fair, I am not Copiously Endowed, and because I am an Older Lady, mine are not, shall we say, prone to Being Bouncy. I have spent too much money on trying to find a bra that is even remotely comfortable, and yes, I was even professionally fitted. If I am wearing something sheer, I wear a cami; if I am not, then Shirt Only it is. Chances are extremely good that I continue this for all three remaining seasons and for the rest of my life, especially since I Just Don't Care. 

BOOKS.  I finished--with some disappointment--Parallel Lines by Edward St. Aubyn. Listen, the writing is excellent. I remain entranced and entertained by the character Sebastian, who features in the opening chapter and made me want to read this book. BUT. There were too many characters cluttering up the landscape and they weren't all different enough to make me notice. As a matter of fact, at one point I just sort of skipped lots paragraphs concerning a couple of characters AND IT MADE ZERO DIFFERENCE TO THE PLOT. And the ending made me irritated in that I put up with SO MUCH just to get to...this? Maybe your reading will be vastly different and I truly hope so. Maybe I am just a Huge Pain In The Ass about modern fiction.

However.

I am now reading Orbital by Samantha Harvey. First of all, thank you Julie for reviewing this book over at your place and for providing an excerpt. This book. This book is so achingly beautiful that when I read it, there are times that I simply have to put it down and breathe and recover myself. This morning I took it out on the patio with my coffee; the sound of my little pond waterfall was in the background, and now and then a bird would sing. As I read I would almost be overcome. What an incredible piece of literature. I feel privileged to read it.

PLANTS.  My basil is a green machine. I've made so, so many jars of pesto--in total a little over two quarts so far. I put it in little jars so that it stays fresher longer. Somebunny has gotten into my parsley despite my menacing fake owl and mowed down almost an entire plant. One suspect lounges quite nonchalantly under my swing in the evenings. My catnip got a severe case of powdery mildew, so I cut it all back and took it outside. Neither Piper nor Marlowe care/d a whit about catnip in their old age (I found out), so I was basically growing catnip to give away to the grandcats (Baker and George) anyway. (Side Note:  Jared and Jordan often threaten George that "Nana will come and speak sternly to you" when he misbehaves because they heard me threaten him with that ONE TIME.)

PLEASURES.  It's important to make note of Small Things That Make Us Happy, and here are mine in no particular order:  

1. Coffee

2. The family group chat

3. My porch and patio

4. My little pond and waterfall

5. Blackberries

6. The icemaker

7. Seeing Theo's crib in the office

8. Watching the two little boys across the street and remembering when Jared and Sam were that age

9. My volunteer tomato plant 

10. Piper snoring

I absolutely cannot wait to read what you have to say in Comments about Boobs, Books, Plants, or your life's little Pleasures.

A New Year's Story (Somewhere, Charles Dickens Is Smiling)

Last Thursday, after grocery shopping with a lighter heart since Things Are Back To Normal, I was steering my Prius back home, barely grimacing at That Horrid Taco's Sign. It was so cold, but at least it was sunny, and I had a car full of groceries, good news from the doctor the day before, and dinner already planned in my head. It was such a Good Day!

I almost didn't see the man standing on the street corner at the busy three-way stop. He was muffled in a scarf and hat, and he was wearing a brown canvas coat that didn't look very warm. As I came up to the intersection, he turned around, and I saw he was holding a sign:
 PLEASE HELP
 HOMELESS AND HUNGRY.

The snow around the sidewalks where he was standing was piled up about fourteen inches, and in the extreme cold, had turned to ice. There were deep frozen ruts about a foot into the street, making his chosen spot a precarious one. It was also not a very smart one. Traffic coming from one direction had no stop at all, and in order for him to reach any car that did manage to stop and block this very busy intersection, he had to navigate terrible terrain. Had he merely moved to a small parking lot across from the Taco's sign fifty feet away, he'd have had a much easier time of it.

Traffic nudged me, and I had to move along. But instead of turning left at the light a block ahead, I turned right, circled back, and came around again. I was lucky--traffic had slowed, and I could stay in my lane to call him over. He was jumping up and down a bit in his tennis shoes, trying to get warm. I honked my horn a little over the noise of a loud truck idling nearby to get his attention. He turned around, and I leaned over in the seat toward my open passenger's side window.

He carefully stepped toward my car, picking his path through the icy mounds and slippery ruts. I wasn't sure if I should look at him: would it embarrass him? I glanced at him briefly and glimpsed some of the tiredest eyes I think I have ever seen. I could see that he was young, and I felt a surge of pity. "Here," I said, as I offered him a ten, "I--"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, ma'am, and God Bless! God Bless you, ma'am!" His blue eyes glistened and he had a West Virginian accent. His cheeks were red and patched with cold, white places.

I became almost overwhelmed with...what? Embarrassment? Shame? "I hope things turn around for you soon," I said. I checked my mirrors and drove on into traffic, headed home, thinking about my December worries and how they stacked up--or, more accurately, didn't--to this man's.

To many, many people's.

When the Universe strives so mightily to Teach Me A Lesson, it is important that I not miss the opportunity to Learn It. This young man on the corner was sort of my New Year's Jacob Marley, but I won't need to be introduced to the rest of the cast.

Message Received.

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Space, The Final Frontier

Pressure Busting Tip #14
Our house is tiny, and what it lacks in closet space it makes up for in crawl space/knee wall storage.  Pretty
much the entire upstairs, which we finished for the boys' shared room, has space behind three of the walls for squirreling away boxes of stuff, the baby crib and changing table, Sam and Jared's toys, and the Christmas decorations. Each year, Rick would go upstairs and haul out the stuff marked "Christmas"; later, I would go upstairs and separate the crappy stuff that went back into storage because 1. I got better stuff; 2. It had some bad provenance attached to it; 3. It was from when the boys were little and liked a lot of schlocky stuff; 4.  It was from my long ago crafty period.  Finally, I realized that the whole routine was idiotic.  Why was I storing a bunch of Christmas stuff that I never used?  Little by little, I either gave it away to people who appreciated it and would love it/use it, or tossed it if it was really awful.  I consulted the boys if I thought they would be sentimental about it, of course.  Now I'm down to only the stuff I really use and need, with a few things kept aside for the boys when they want them for their own trees in the future.

I'd urge you to take an hour and do the same, if you haven't already.  Pressure Busting Tip #14 can really be liberating and free up some storage space as well as some headspace.  Go through your Christmas Stuff as you haul it out and find homes for what you no longer need, want, or use.  Those things can brighten up a homeless shelter, a church charity sale, or even a school.  Drop them off at the Salvation Army or Goodwill.  Take them to work and put them on a table with a FREE sign.  It's really true that "one man's trash is another man's treasure."  And I would add "sometimes space is a treasure."


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Perspective

Last week I was fussy overmuch.  St. Patsy was due home from her Month Of Sistering in Gettysburg; I was thence on Chauffeur Duty for her Medical Necessaries.  I had a luncheon scheduled.  I had to get an E-check for the car.  I had to go to the bank.  I had to go to the grocery store for a few things.  I had laundry to do.  And since we were leaving on Thursday morning for our annual Independence Day Weekend Jaunt To Canada, I felt pushed and rushed because I also had to pack.  Ugh. 

So, on Tuesday I zipped out to the grocery store.  It was another hot and tropically humid day with ever-threatening showers.  I only needed to grab a few things, mainly nibblies for our Jaunt.  (We like to have a little Road Food on hand to keep our stomachs full for tastings, and Room Food for snacking.)  I was zooming through the aisles as much as I could, which was not much, because it was the 2nd of the month and the store was full of the elderly Social Security recipients.  The checkout lines were also long and slow due to heavy couponing, WIC cards, check writers, and exact change counters.  I, however, was patient and made a mental note to report back to my husband the vast numbers of individuals following The Rick Rule:  Retired People need to shop during the week and leave the weekends for the working people.

I glanced nervously out the huge windows ahead.  It was clouding up again.  I hoped like hell I wouldn't have to load up my car in the rain, then unload it all in the rain.  I saw a few drops hit the glass.

Finally through the line, I hurried out to my car.  Once I stowed my stuff, I happened to glance over to the store's front.  A young couple were unloading a full cart, and the man was valiantly stuffing as much as he could into a large backpack.  The young woman kept shaking her head.  It occurred to me that they had no car.  They were going to walk home with all their groceries.  And there was no possible way that any more of the contents of that cart were going to fit into that backpack.  Simple physics.

I backed my car out, hesitated, then resolutely drove up to the couple.  Pulling up alongside, I called out the open window, "Do you not have a car today?  Would you let me help you by giving you a ride?"

The two exchanged a glance, and the young man came to my window.  "We don't have a car," he said.  "But, ma'am, I guess if you would give us a ride, we'd be glad to take it. Thank you so much."  They opened the door to the back seat and began stowing their bags.  "Wow.  Thanks so much!"  the young woman said as she climbed in after them; the young man sat up front to navigate.  "I don't know what we were gonna do.  That backpack broke, and we had a lot more stuff than we thought."

"I'm so happy to do it," I said.  "Besides, there is no way I could let you even try to walk with this heat and the weather looking this way.  It might storm again any minute.  Now if you'll just tell me where you live and how to get there, we'll be off."  I introduced myself, and told them where I had taught in case one or both had attended there.  They gave their names, thanking me over and over again, the woman recognizing me from school years ago.

"This is awfully nice of you, Mrs. D.," she said again.  "You're probably the only person in this town that would do something like this, though.  No one in this town gives a damn about people like us."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true!" I protested.  "That's just not true at all.  But I'm glad I saw you and am able now to help out."  We drove by a restaurant a few minutes from the store and stopped at the light.  "Do you like that restaurant?" the young man asked.
"I do," I said.  "But it's so popular and crowded that I don't eat there often.  I like the food, but I don't like waiting for it."  "I work there," he said.  "I just got promoted to staff trainer, and I'm being trained for manager."

I looked at him; his pride was evident.  "That's awesome.  You must be a very valued employee," I told him.  "But, how do you get to work every day?"

"I walk.  It adds another couple hours to my day, and it's worse when I work real late, but I walk.  That's what I do."

As I drove, he told me little things here and there about the neighborhood as we passed them:  the school that is now a charter school, the neighbor who barbecues every Sunday, the guy who is real nice about letting all the kids play in his yard.  Pretty soon we drove up to a tiny house on the corner, and I drove up the driveway.  I admonished them both not to be in a hurry; I was retired and had all the time in the world.  They laughed and pulled their bags from my car, thanked me about eleventy more times, and told me I really saved them that day.

A light rain was falling, and I said they shouldn't get wet.  "I'm so glad I could help you!" I said again, and I backed out of their stubby driveway and drove off.  And really, I was.

It was an interlude I sorely needed. 

My father used to tell us constantly that we needed Contrasts in life to help us fully appreciate the Good Things.  One of his watchwords was Appreciation.  We were raised on it.  And here I was, forgetting it.  I am thankful for such an Object Lesson.

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In Which I Leave A Note, Write A List, Have A Laugh, And Make A Plea Against Nevermore

January is over!  Now where did the time go?  Finish taking down those Christmas decorations, (You know who you are!  Honestly, how can you stand yourselves?) and I'll see what little Leftover Thoughtlets are leaping around.

##Here is a note I left for my husband last week when I went out to dinner with one of my ladyfriends:  If Rondo doesn't go, move Iguodala to Rondo's spot at Guard; move Noah up to Forward (Iguodala's spot)!  Sigh. I know, right? On the one hand, some of you are in awe--and rightfully so--at my awesome fantasy roster!  On the other hand, the rest of you are shaking your heads and saying, "Holy crap.  What the hell is wrong with her?" and plotting a massive Virtual Friends Support Network Rescue Project wherein you will each agree to have me live with you for a week until I remember that I should be acting far more loftily and artsy, not worrying over Rajon Rondo's extended wrist injury and the fact that his absence is killing the West Egg Gatsbys' lineup right now.

##How hilarious are the republicans right now?  I know...who?  We have one Serial Adulterer endorsing another (after he inexplicably endorsed "We, The People" on the dais with a real Comedy Channel candidate), and the party that espouses capitalism and big business and tax breaks and keeping your own money is ripping into the candidate who is the Poster Child for all those things.  I don't know about you, but I'm waiting for Michele Bachmann to endorse.  After all, she said God told her to run for political office.  Now, I'm not sure how He felt about her quitting and all--do you think He weighed in on that, or was that totally her call?--but I'd love to hear who He thinks should be President now that He's changed His mind about her.  (Hey, maybe Mitt can use that as an example of why his own flip-flopping is really okay.  Even God is a flip-flopper!  There ya go, Mitt.  You can have that.)

##Marlowe moved to the top of the Most Favoured Cat list.  Admittedly, this is a short list and subject to caprice and fits of snark by its originator.  Earlier this month as Rick was in the shower and I was in the kitchen, she emerged through the cat door from the basement.  She trotted very proudly toward me with something in her mouth.  My eyes grew wide.  I hollered in to Rick, "Rick!  Rick!  Marlowe caught a mouse!"  She had, indeed, caught a very large brown field mouse in the basement.  Good heavens, who am I kidding?  The thing was huge.  And dead. Really, really dead.  Marlowe was so proud, and Piper was mildly interested. Rick finally came out of the bathroom, completely unclothed, and calmly took a paper plate, said, "Okay, Marlowe, I'll take over from here," and took it out to the trash.  I proceeded to lavish treats on the cat and only later did I realize what it all meant:  There was at least one mouse in my home. 

##Nancy, longtime reader and commenter, sent me a terribly sad news item that I wanted to share.  Knowing my fondness for all things Edgar Allan Poe, and my championing for his legacy, she knew that I'd want to know of the apparent end of the Poe Toaster tradition.  This is the third year in a row that the mysterious visitor to the author's grave did not appear with the usual cognac and rose.  That did not move me anywhere near as much as this part of the article did:  "Baltimore recently cut funding for the museum at the rowhouse where Poe lived with relatives from 1832 to 1835, before he found fame as a writer. It must close if it does not become self-sustaining by June."  I find this heartbreaking.  In 1875 a local schoolteacher started a campaign called "Pennies for Poe" in order to fund a dignified and suitable monument for this important writer who was wrongly characterized, vilified by his worst enemy in an obituary and biography which stood as the only sources for this man's life story for a generation.  The Pennies for Poe campaign has been revived on a small scale; I'm saddened that the president of the Poe Society hasn't hit up the big name horror authors who have credited Edgar with inspiring them; perhaps he will. All the same, he sounds like he's given up already.  I'm adding a link to the campaign to my sidebar.  I don't think Baltimore having a football team named the Ravens is enough of a remembrance to Edgar and his legacy.

Now that's a real sports fantasy.

I Have Decided To Use My Power For Good (But Just This Once)

As you may recall, last year I was pleased to bring you news of Joan's Legacy: Uniting Against Lung Cancer and its annual benefit.  This worthy cause was founded to honor the life of Joan Scarangello, a writer at NBC News, who fell victim to lung cancer in 2001 despite never having smoked in her 47 years.  In 2010 Brian Williams donated an auction lot of six autographed ties--the reason I got involved--and they ended up selling for about $5000.

(That's a lot of money for ties, especially for the Hermes with the penguins on it. And to think I described it as a faux paisley print--11 February 2010...sigh. Pre-HD, though.)

But it's nowhere near what is needed to combat the Number 1 Killer Cancer in the United States.  This scourge is the world's deadliest cancer; an estimated 157,000 Americans are estimated to die from lung cancer this year - more than colon, breast, and pancreatic cancers combined.

More than 220,000 Americans will be diagnosed with lung cancer this year, but only 16% of lung cancer is being diagnosed at its earliest and most curable stage.  Like Joan, sadly, many of its victims are misdiagnosed and the cancer is too far advanced to effect a cure. 

That's why aggressive research and awareness are so desperately necessary. 

To that end, Joan's Legacy: Uniting Against Lung Cancer announces its Strolling Supper with Blues and News, hosted by Brian Williams and Tom Brokaw.  Another silent auction will be held and, while there will be no ties, the slate of offerings is impressive.  Along with a set visit and seat in the Director's chair at The NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams, it includes:

*Hanging out on-set at The Big Bang Theory, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report
*Autographed memorabilia from Lady Gaga and Santonio Holmes
*Vacations at Costa Rica, Cancun, and Cape Cod
*Vespa scooter in your choice of color
*Designer wares by Coach, Kate Spade, Michael Kors, and Betsey Johnson
*A Longer Shelf Life:  Your name as a character in a future Sue Grafton novel
               AND MUCH, MUCH MORE!

This year, there is also online bidding--it begins November 9th.  Click here to go and see all the items and reserve prices.  That way, you don't have to go to New York; you can just sit at home in your tasteful jammies, pour a glass of Chardonnay, and use your mouse and your credit card to get some early You-Know-What shopping done.  (You didn't hear That Word from me. Not here, not now.)  And then you can bask in the toasty glow of Altruism.  Helped along by the Chard, but whatever.
The Dept. is honored and proud to use its powers on the Interwebs for the Greater Good, even in this small, small way.  For even more information, and a chance for a little bit more of BriWi--you'll recognize the tie, an old favourite of his--you can watch this short viddy:


Thank you.  And, for your handy-dandy convenience, use the clicky graphic at the top of my sidebar anytime to jaunt directly to the Joan's Legacy auction site.  With your help, Joan's Legacy can be a cure.

So, I Get This Email, And Now You Can Buy Brian Williams' Ties. And They're Autographed!

The Dept. of Nance is pleased and proud to host this guest post today. The interwebs have allowed me to use my powers for Good, and they have brought to me, via The Brian Williams Tie Report Archives, the opportunity to help promote a very worthy cause. If you've ever wanted to own a Bri Tie, or have his autograph for your Celebrity Collection, or if you've lost anyone to cancer, please read with interest the post below about a silent auction benefit for lung cancer research. Who knew that writing little fluffs of frivolity about cravats would put me on such a Kevin Baconesque odyssey?

NIGHTLY NEWS ANCHOR GIVES CLOTHES OFF HIS BACK (NECK) TO HONOR FORMER NBC COLLEAGUE JOAN SCARANGELLO OF "JOAN'S LEGACY"

In a gesture that illustrates his respect and care for his colleagues, NBC Nightly News anchor Brian Williams is donating six of his ties--to be auctioned off as one lot--to this November’s silent auction to benefit Joan’s Legacy: Uniting Against Lung Cancer. The ties – all worn on air and signed on the back – will raise money for innovative lung cancer research in memory of Joan Scarangello, a Nightly writer who died of lung cancer in 2001 at 47 and a never-smoker.

Brian, along with Tom Brokaw, will co-chair the foundation’s benefit on November 17 at New York’s Gotham Hall. The party, called the “Strolling Supper with Blues & News” will also feature a performance by blues great Delbert McClinton, the awarding of 14 new lung cancer research grants, the announcement of the winner of the foundation’s journalism award (the “Joanie”) and a remarkable silent auction. Tickets for the benefit start at $300 and can be purchased at http://www.unitingagainstlungcancer.org/ and by calling 212-627-5500. Bids on Brian’s ties and all other silent auction items can also be made online or by phone up until November 17 at noon.

Joan’s Legacy: Uniting Against Lung Cancer is the largest private funder of lung cancer research grants. The non-profit has given more than $7.5 million in individual $100,000 grants to more than 60 institutions in 22 states. In addition, the foundation has committed an addition $5 million to North America’s premier early detection research “dream team” project, Canary Lung.

Lung cancer kills more Americans than any other cancer – and more women every year than breast, uterine and ovarian cancers combined. Yet it receives less funding than any other major cancer because of the stigma of smoking. Today, 60 percent of all lung cancer patients never smoked or had already quit smoking before their diagnosis – and only 1 in 9 of them is likely to live five years or more from the day they find out.

Brian’s donation to Uniting Against Lung Cancer includes the cravat he wore on the October 8 broadcast of Nightly News from Los Angeles, reviewed by The Brian Williams Tie Report Archives as “A Misbegotten Choice from the Underbelly of Fashion.” He is choosing the others more carefully!

Brian’s ties are just one of the amazing silent auction lots. Others include:

· Having your name as a character in the next David Baldacchi best-seller
· Guitars autographed by Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, Bon Jovi, Counting Crows and the Black Crowes
· Front row seats at any Times Square concert from “Good Morning America”
· In-Studio viewing of any NBC “Meet the Press” broadcast in the network’s Washington, DC closed set
· Set visits and cast meetings at “House” and “Two and A Half Men” and “Parenthood” in LA
· Tickets to the “Daily Show” “Colbert Report” “Saturday Night Live” and “The View”
· Fantastic seats for Jets, Giants, Yankees, Mets and Nets games
· Vacations (Napa, Italy, Palm Beach, Nantucket, New York)

...and much more

To see the full list of silent auction items, please visit http://www.unitingagainstlungcancer.org/events/SS2010

TO BID ON BRI'S TIES--call Uniting Against Lung Cancer at 212-627-5500