Thoughts on Guns, Mental Illness, and God in the Schools

The beyond terrible events in Newtown, CT this past week have led to another spate of Facebook posts politicizing the death of 20 little kids.  "Guns don't kill, people do" is a common theme among some.

I can't disagree with that sentiment.  But I also don't think that it tells the whole truth.  Hunters who use guns and keep them responsibly locked up are one thing.  People who own several handguns, including semi-automatics, are another.  It only takes one gun to protect yourself, if that's why you own a gun.  So why did a mentally ill man have access to at least 6 guns, all listed in his Mother's name?

I don't like guns, never have.  But this debate shouldn't be about guns.  It should be about gun ownership, and putting stricter rules around who gets a gun, what kind of gun, and how many guns.

I don't get offended at the pro or anti gun sentiments on Facebook, just like I don't get offended when my Conservative friends state their opinions, which are opposite mine.  It's part of what makes America great.

But the last couple days I've been seeing several posts, using the image of Jesus, that imply that if God were allowed in schools, this never would have happened.  REALLY?

It hurts my soul, because it implies that somehow God isn't with us always, everywhere.  And it implies that somehow this horrific tragedy is our government's fault for separating church and state. Or our fault for not believing in the right God, namely Jesus.

If religion was taught in our public schools (and I assume it would be the Christian religion since the Facebook posters reference a Caucasian, western image of Jesus in their posts), how would that have stopped a mentally deranged gunman from entering the school and doing what he did?  Does having God in the schools put a Harry Potter like invisible barrier around the school?  And would that barrier protect the Jewish kids too?  How about the Hindus?  Muslims too?

I pray to God that he forgives us for bringing him into this dialogue.

'Tis the Season

This time of year I usually take the week of Thanksgiving off, then only have to work 3 more weeks before having at least 2 weeks of vacation again.  The best movies come out this time of year, plus I usually manage to get one or two house chores out of the way.

Today, the last day of my Thanksgiving break is no different.  I've seen The Life of Pi, Lincoln, and Skyfall this week, and can highly recommend all of them.  I caught up on the laundry and ironing, and completely cleaned and reorganized my pantry.  I created my own recipe for scalloped potatoes, complete with duck fat, mushrooms, shallots, and cheese, made chocolate chip cookies with dark chocolate chips, and the best gingersnaps in the world.  And I got my teeth cleaned - teeth are the gateway to your body, so I'm proud to say that I take care of mine!

This time of year, too, I normally tend to suffer from tiredness, depression, and malaise.  I've been saying for years that it was SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), but didn't do anything about it until this Fall.  I bought a small light box and turn it on for 30 minutes each morning.  I also started taking Vitamin D every day (it comes in gummy candy now!).  What a difference - I feel wide awake and alert now all day long.

Not so much goodness at night though.  I'm starting to experience my own "personal summers" more often during the day, and haven't slept through the night in months due to waking up all hot and sweaty.  In the past year I've only had 2 periods, and my last one was in May.  If I can make it to May 2013 without another one I'll officially be in Menopause.  Funny - I think I feel better now then I did when I was in my thirties.

Gracie and Sam are doing marvelously well, and we're catching up on our snuggle time.  Grace is a miracle baby, going from almost certain death from chronic renal failure to being back to her fighting weight, with a shiny coat and bright eyes.  Her back legs seem a little weak, but hey - she's 15.  I attribute her turnaround to a supplement called Azodyl.  It's basically dialysis, except the toxins get eliminated in her poop.  And no prescription is required, so I get it over the Internet for about $40.00 for a 90-day supply.

Work begins again tomorrow, but I have a good supply of clean, freshly ironed clothes to choose from for many days.  And gingersnap cookies, which I may or may not share!

This and That and a Little Black Cat

I'm back in my Winter Palace, which is in need of many repairs, like baseboards and doors that don't stick.  I've got 6 1/2 months to work on getting this place fixed, but not a whole lot of money to do it with.  What else is new?

My 15 year old cat Grace lost her kidney function this summer and lost a ton of weight.  The Vet Tech had me almost convinced that it was her time, until she mentioned that when cats don't eat, they die.  But Grace was still eating, in fact she approaches meal time with an unbounded excitement.  So we talked about alternatives.  In order to get her back on her feet, she first needed fluids.  I didn't like the idea of her being kept in the Vet's office for 3 days on an IV, so we sent her home with my wonderful pet sitter, who gave her fluids several times a day by inserting a needle under her skin (I was still in residence at my Summer Palace when this happened).  In addition, Grace now needs to take a pill once a day that is described as dialysis in a pill form.

I've been home for 3 weeks now, and Grace has bloomed and blossomed, and looks like she was never sick to begin with.  Her eyes are bright, her fur is shiny, and she's gained all of her weight back.  

Her kidneys won't ever recover, and my research tells me that Chronic Kidney Failure is fatal, but hopefully I'll get to enjoy a couple more years of quality time with her in the meantime.

I'm off to Phoenix Sunday for 2 days on a business trip.  Since I'm flying in Sunday morning I'll get a chance to visit my friend Jack, who has his winter castle in Mesa.  He turns 88 on Halloween, and insists that he plans to live well into the hundreds.  I hope so, because he's an awfully nice man.

Turkey Day will be spent in North Dakota with family...and friends!  My friend Robert is going to Fargo to see friends over the holiday, so hopefully I'll get a chance to break bread with him while he's there.  He's a Brit transplanted to Texas, so Fargo in late November might be a bit of a shock for him.

Several people in my family sent me the very welcome news that American Airlines is planning to start non-stop Fargo-Dallas Fort Worth flights in February.  I personally never thought I'd see that happen, but I'm not complaining!

Chaos Theory

I've been down in Santiago, Chile for about 10 days working on the implementation of a major airline to our system.  Everything went well; even better than expected.  I'm assigned to the overnight shift of "channel support", which means that anything our hundreds of employees in the field can't answer, they call, e-mail, or IM me for help.

Also assigned to the same shift are two very boisterous men - one Latin, one Indian.  They are always talking, always joking, and have the very bad habit of not letting anyone finish a sentence.  My irritation and lack of patience has reared its ugly head more than once this week.  I've tried asking nicely, I've tried sarcasm, and I've tried yelling at them to please shut up, to no avail.  They talk over each other, not to mention anyone else in the room.

I have come to realize something about myself through this.  There is a reason why I choose to work from home as much as I do.  It's not just these two gentlemen that behave this way - it seems to be rampant in much of the company these days.  Nobody has a simple conversation - it's all one-upmanship to see who can talk the loudest, or the fastest, or who can manipulate the most electronic devices at one time while still pretending to listen to what you're saying to them.

I've heard all sorts of theories on why this is - overstimulation from TV, computers, iPhones, iPads, iPods, video games, and just a fast-paced life.  But my theory is different - people do it just because everyone else does it.  It's not that they aren't nice people - they are.  And their table manners are impeccable.  But I cannot deal with a room full of people all vying for attention, all absolutely certain that it should be only their voice that should be heard.

In the meantime, I'll be oh so happy to get back to my little Summer Palace known as a camper, where the only sounds I hear are the birds chirping in the morning.

Little Things

Someone's post on Facebook today brought back an unexpected memory that made me smile.  We lived 2 blocks from the school (yes, the one and only school in town; elementary and high school) and sometimes the marching band would come out to practice, marching right by our house.  It always felt like it was a surprise present just for us, and we'd drop everything to go listen and watch as the teenagers in uniforms marched by with drums, saxophones, clarinets, and tubas.

Thinking about that reminded me of other memories, like hearing the fire siren blow and jumping in the car to go chase the fire trucks.

Taking Miss Pepper, the dog, to Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone.  And Butterscotch Dilly Bars!

Bowling night for Mom, when Dad would make us popcorn in the electric skillet, but pretend all night he wasn't going to this week.  Bowling night for Dad, when Mom would wax the hardwood floors and we'd take turns running and sliding in the hallway with just our socks on (it was also bath night).  That tradition ended when I got a huge sliver and had to have a tetanus shot and stitches.

Laying out on the cool grass late at night watching a meteor shower because Dewey Berquist said we should (Dewey was the weatherman on TV, and we donated our grandfather's telescope to him so we felt like we were his friends).

Making the first snowman of the year and getting our picture in the paper for it.

And riding on top of the firetruck with the sirens blasting on Halloween.  If we were real lucky we'd get to sit inside and actually blow the siren ourselves.

The smell of burning leaves in the air.  The last day of school.  The feel of a fish tugging on our line.

Today I watched two hummingbirds chase each other, up and down, in circles, and side to side.  It almost seemed like they were dancing for me.  It felt like the school's marching band was coming down our street, playing just for us.

Batteries Recharged!

WE Fest is one of the nation's largest music and camping festivals, and it happens about a mile from my Summer Palace the first week of August every year.  The site, still called Soo Pass Ranch, used to be a horseback riding "dude" ranch, and my brother and I rode horses there as kids.

Some of the most famous musicians in the world have performed there - Ray Charles, Kid Rock to name a couple.  This year some of the headliners were Toby Keith, Alabama, Jason Aldean, Eric Church, Brantley Gilbert, Sawyer Brown, and John Anderson.

I had never been to WE Fest and wasn't sure I wanted to - I like country music all right, but I'm not a huge fan.  And there are always stories of younger adults getting really drunk and doing stupid stuff.  But my neighbor talked me into volunteering for the Humane Society and serving beer at the festival.  Two six-hour shifts and I would get a 3-day music pass.  When the Human Society called me, they asked if I could work three shifts since they were so desperate for volunteers.  For that, I got a camping pass (not needed) and $10 in food tickets every day in addition to the music pass.

From the first moment (Thursday night) of getting on a shuttle bus, it was as if I was dropped into an alternate universe where everyone was happy and everyone loved everyone else.  We were greeted in the aisle of the bus with "happy WE Fest", and one kid told me I was beautiful.

We got to work at the Leinie Lodge, which specializes in Leinenkugel, a Wisconsin beer.  The jobs were servers or pourers.  I was asked to be a server, which meant I took people's tickets, and gave them the beer of their choice, all the while trying to get as many tips as possible for the Humane Society.  Sweet muscle-bound tattooed boys would come in my line and tell me they loved me, that I was beautiful, and would kiss my hands before leaving.  And we in the booth were having the best time ever, making up claps and chants for when we got a tip.

The next day I worked the day shift and then joined my brother and sister-in-law to see Steve Martin (yes, THAT Steve Martin) and Toby Keith.  Soon after I sat down, an announcement was made that a bad storm was heading in, with rain and winds up to 50 mph.  We ran for shelter, and I ended up under the "porch" of the Leinie Lodge with an umbrella.  The porch didn't have a solid roof, so it wasn't that great of a shelter.  A 21-year old boy squeezed in next to me, told me he wanted to be a paramedic, and was worried about his girlfriend in the Hilltop campground.  He asked if I knew where that was.  I did, but told him it was way too far away to get to on foot in the storm.  He hung out for a little while longer, then took off running into the night.

The rain lessened, I was reunited with my brother and sister-in-law, and we wandered up to the Saloon for awhile, since it actually had a roof on it.  On the way back down I bought a delicious lamb Gyro and a sweatshirt since it was now cold AND rainy.  Even though it was miserable outside, everyone still was happy!

Steve Martin finally came on and did an abbreviated show (his banjo playing is amazing), and then Toby Keith took the stage, a week after having gall bladder surgery.  After "Red Solo Cup", we started the mile walk home around 1:30 in the morning.  There's nothing like a late-night walk in squishy shoes to make you wish for a hot bath!

The final day of the festival I worked during the day again, and walking around the grounds was just as much fun as before.  We'd start conversations with perfect strangers, and end up getting big hugs or high fives.

Today is Sunday - everyone has packed up and are heading home; some to homes several states away.  I am stiff, sore, have multiple blisters, and still feel like I just came home from a 3-week vacation.  I met so many fun people, all of whom were out to have as much fun as possible in the 3 days they were there.  Why did it take me 30 years to go?

Perspective - It's a Grand Thing

I grew up in a tiny town, where my Dad owned a hardware store and Mom cooked and cleaned and also worked at the store once we started going to school.  Summers were spent running around the neighborhood until it got too dark to see, and sometimes we even would lay on the grass late at night to look at the stars.  When we got older, we started going to The Lake.  No matter which late folks around town went to, it was still called "the lake", sometimes "the lakes", as in "are you going to the lake this weekend?".

Swimming off the dock, fishing with our Dad, digging our bare feet into the muck at the bottom of the lake...all part of the experience.  Catching minnows with a net, collecting turtles, and yes, dealing with mosquitoes after dark were part of my childhood.

My neighbors here in Minnesota had their son, daughter-in-law and two grandkids visit from Texas this week.  When the kids were encouraged to take their shoes off to run through the grass, they declined, saying that they were afraid of fire ants (we don't have fire ants here, just the regular old picnic ants).  They didn't want to go into the lake for fear that they'd run into a fish.  Their parents wouldn't go in either - too mucky and "dirty" for them (the lake is very clean).

My neighbors told me these things with a sad, disappointed look on their face.  You see, they grew up like I did here in North Dakota/Minnesota.  But their jobs took them to the big city, and later to Texas before their son got to experience what we did.  And now they might as well be from a different planet, wondering how on earth we all survived growing up the way we did.

My 4 year old grand niece is getting the lake experience - she loves the water; even dives off the high part of the pontoon into the lake already.  Her shoes are rarely on (except for a couple of months when her Mom couldn't convince her to remove her snow boots), and she stays up late by the campfire, shooting off sparklers and roasting marshmallows.  She's a lucky girl indeed.

Working For a...Living?

Although I love my Summer Palace enough to have bought a share of the Association, there were things that irritated the bejeezus out of me.  The Annual Meeting was a free-for-all, with lots of folks airing their frustrations.  The common theme, it seemed to me, was a lack of communication, so I stepped up and volunteered to be in charge of a monthly newsletter for the Village.  At least 200 hours of work later, my first issue was published.  I never wrote a newsletter before, so I had to figure out a template to use, articles to write, and how to lay it out at the printers.  All in all, it was a work I'm proud of, and hopefully it'll go a long way to fixing that pesky communication problem we seem to have.  I'm already working on the August issue!

I also volunteered to be a member of the 2012 Sounding Board, which is the predecessor to a more formal board of directors.  Right now, private owners are improving, marketing, and selling the place, but once we sell 75% of the lots, the Association takes over (and we're scared to death about that).  Our first Sounding Board meeting finally took place the last Saturday in June, and boy did we have a lot to talk about!  Since we're the predecessor to a board of directors, we decided to start acting like one, electing a chairman, vice-chairman, and secretary, and following Robert's Rules.  Since I was the only one taking notes I got elected secretary, not that I minded.  Since communication is such a strong theme for me, I like putting some order around what we're doing.

So in addition to working full-time at my real job, I'm feeling lately like I have a part-time, unpaid job too!  But I have a lot (to me) of money invested here, so I want to make sure I do what I can to make it succeed.

I harvested my first tomato (Cherokee Purple) yesterday, which is really early for this heirloom.  I didn't think that plant was even going to survive, much less produce tomatoes, but it's starting to go crazy.  I've been eating the sugar snap peas right off the bush - they're so fresh and sweet.  And the wild raspberries are in fruit behind my camper.  The cucumbers are growing well, I've got three hot pepper plants with fruit that'll be ready soon, and tons of white onions coming along nicely!  The rhubarb and asparagus are in their first year, so no harvesting them until next year.  I didn't make it the Farmer's Market last Saturday, so I'm excited to see what they have for me this week!

Summer Palace Week One

After my long journey back to where I belong, I settled in and started up the Summer Palace.  I had a full tank of propane, so I could feed myself and stay warm.  What else do I need?  Oh yeah - water!  There was still a chance of freezing temps overnight, so the water wasn't going to be turned on until there was no chance of the pipes bursting.

So for 5 days I hauled water from our Community Center for coffee but mainly to flush the toilet.  Luckily we have good shower facilities there too.  I learned to appreciate water that comes straight from the taps without having to haul it in 5-gallon buckets.

But the water was eventually turned on, and I flushed all the pink antifreeze out of the lines.  That full tank of propane only lasted 2 weeks - it was cold overnight!

A lady turkey had her home base nearby it seems, since I saw her quite frequently wandering in my backyard.

And the pair of fox from last year started a family!

And this week I saw a bobcat running through the property two doors down.  I've gotten a lot of grief from folks who don't believe it was a bobcat, but I know what I saw, and they're not uncommon here.  And late last night I may have seen it again bounding through the property.  Where are those nigh-vision glasses when I need them?

Friends of mine that have a cabin on Pelican Lake (site of my Summer Palace a few years ago) had a cinnamon colored black bear strolling through their front yard.  And the next day 2 cubs were seen.  That freaks out a lot of people, but there's a research organization up in Ely, MN that has been studying black bears for years, and have been able to prove many myths are untrue.  For example, bears don't sleep through the winter.  They wake up quite often, leave their den, and will sometimes eat snow for the water.  When their cubs are born (during hibernation), they are good mothers, and just like humans, don't sleep much for the first few months!

Check out www.bear.org - this winter I actually watched Jewel, one of the bears in the study, give birth to 2 cubs.  The cameras with audio in her den kept me coming back time and time again just to check on her and the kids.

I think I missed my calling.  If I could somehow combine my passion for nature with my passion for cooking, I'd be a happy camper!  In a way, that's exactly what I've done already.

Back Home Where I Belong

I was chomping at the bit to get going.  After all, the temperatures had reached 70 already in Detroit Lakes (okay, so it was one day and it probably snowed the same night).  I got back from my latest 2-week jaunt to Australia, spent the weekend packing, worked a couple of days, then I could stand it no longer.  Even though the campground isn't open officially until May 1, I knew they wouldn't kick me out if I showed up a week early.

I may have mentioned that jet lag coming home from Australia kicks my butt.  Generally for 2 weeks after I get home I suffer from disturbed sleep, diarrhea, and even depression.  So I know that driving for two days straight wasn't the smartest thing to do.  The first day wasn't bad - I drove 12 hours, checked into a hotel, and even stayed awake to watch TV a couple of hours!

Day 2 was a little harder.  Even though it would be a shorter day, I found myself all fidgety and cranky, and worst of all, sleepy.  Driving through South Dakota, I really kept wishing I was in Minnesota already.  So knowing that I couldn't shorten the drive anyway, I decided to at least "get to Minnesota".  I exited on Highway 90 and turned east.  Before you knew it, I was in Minnesota!  And I had never visited Southwestern Minnesota before, so I felt like a tourist.

 "So it came to be (1993) that a cluster of more than 70 wind turbines was erected about Hendricks and Lake Benton in Lincoln County, MN, as the U.S. government, the State of Minnesota and several energy conglomerates began a serious effort to create electricity from wind. Soon a second cluster of turbines - more than 140 - was erected near the same site.

A dozen years later there is uncertainty attending the precise number of wind turbines across and along Buffalo Ridge. There are thousands of them. Southwest Minnesota’s landscape has been transformed, just as the search for energy has been transformed. Minnesota’s southwest corner, in particular, has become an American center for the production of electricity.

The sleek, nearly silent wind turbines are all about 250 feet high. Each turbine weighs nearly 100 tons. Most have three blades with a rotor diameter of more than 150 feet. They are awesome structures.

Each turbine may generate the annual electrical needs of up to 250 homes. The wind-driven turbines supplant the burning of hundreds of thousands of tons of coal which would be required to fill the needs of the power now harvested from Minnesota breezes.

Some farmers in the southwest region, who have watched turbines being erected on their lands, call their farms “wind farms.” They now reap harvests from winds which once only rustled their corn crops."

Little Creatures, Helium, and Sailors; or How I Spent My Friday Night

I'm down under again, and was lucky enough to be invited to a going-away party.  I don't know the person who the party was for, but hey - any excuse, right?

We went down to the local pub, and I ordered my favorite local beer Little Creatures.  Several more of them, someone decided to show us all the proper technique for sucking helium out of a balloon in order to talk funny. I have to admit, I've always been the one laughing at others when they do this.  I am a virgin when it comes to sucking helium.  The proper technique involves pulling the knotted end taut and biting a small hole in it, then inhaling as much of the stuff as you can handle.  Why have I never done this before?  We laughed until we cried!

One of the girls wanted to move downstairs where a musician was playing and there were pool tables, so I gladly went with her.  She put a dollar on the pool table and told me to find two "good-looking men" to play with us.  So I very politely tapped two gentlemen on the shoulder and told them that my friend asked me to find the two "best looking men" in the pub to play with, and would they like to be our partners?

I'm not sure they knew what to make of me, but they went along out of politeness anyway.  They were both really interesting guys!  I asked what they did, and they responded, "we're sailors".  Interesting enough, that was their hobby, their passion; not what they do to make money.  I saw pictures of a beautiful sailing vessel, which they plan on racing all the way to Tasmania.  I would venture a guess that they were both in their 30's, maybe early 40's.  The older one had tattoos everywhere, including his knuckles.  He used to be a punk rocker, but now builds marine electronics.  The other guy is an engineer, which translates to building gas stations.

For some reason, I felt like a celebrity with these guys.  They hung on every word, and totally ignored the (much prettier and younger) girl I was with.  What a great night - I wasn't looking for anything except having an interesting conversation, and that's exactly what I got.

The girl I was with was looking for a man, and these guys didn't meet her standards.  She kept looking for something better in the pub.  Which is probably why the guys ignored her.  I told her that even if one of these guys wasn't Mr. Right, it didn't hurt to expand your circle of friends.  Funny - I remember being just like her; looking around waiting for my handsome prince and ignoring the funny, smart guys sitting right in front of me. I guess when you stop looking for the pearl you get to enjoy the oyster.

Jet Lag - the Bitch That Won't Leave

I'm surviving day 11 since I returned from my last trip to Oz.  As I write this, I'm on the couch, wearing a fuzzy purple robe, slippers, and a cat in my lap.  But I am working - this is lunchtime, so I can be forgiven a few minutes to rant and rave about my present state of being.

Jet lag, medically referred to as desynchronosis, is a physiological condition which results from alterations to the body's circadian rhythms resulting from rapid long-distance transmeridian (east–west or west–east) travel on a jet airplane. It is classified as one of the circadian rhythm sleep disorders.

The symptoms of jet lag can be quite varied, depending on the amount of time zone alteration, time of day and individual differences. They may include the following:^[2]

• Headaches
• Fatigue, irregular sleep patterns, insomnia
• Disorientation, grogginess, irritability
• Mild depression
• Constipation or diarrhea

Source: Wikipedia

Yep, got 'em all.  I lived through 5 days of a constant nagging headache, which only subsided to let the diarrhea start back up for a couple of days (and nights).  Last night I fell into bed at 8:30 pm, exhausted, only to be wide awake at 11 pm.  About 1 am I decided to take some Nyquil, which put me back to sleep.  Until I woke up with a leg cramp.  Don't see that on the list of symptoms, but I'm blaming it on jet lag anyway.

Last week I got into a shouting match with my boss, burst into tears twice, and shot off several pissy e-mails.  So I took yesterday off - my last trip I took 2 days off.  Which makes me irritable, because I have to waste valuable vacation time on a day where I barely leave the house anyway.  Did I mention that irritability is one of the symptoms?

NASA estimates that west-to-east travel takes one day to recover for each time zone crossed.  Brisbane is 15 hours ahead of us, so by their estimation I've only got 4 more days to endure this bitch.  But I'm heading back to Australia April 7, so let the games begin all over again!

Taking Care...of Myself

First, an update on Jewel the black bear - she had two cubs, and the researchers have named them Fern and Herbie!  I still check in on the bears - it's a great way to pass the time in Australia.  And yes, I'm in Australia again.

I spent 3 weeks here last month, and I'm 1 day short of 2 weeks this month.  I love the city (Brisbane), and the people, but geez, I miss home too!  The work is challenging, frustrating, fascinating, infuriating, fun, and tiring all at the same time.  During my last trip my Aunt and Uncle both died (husband and wife), and I still feel like I haven't dealt with that yet.  My uncle was my Mom's favorite brother, and his wife was my Mom's best friend.  But it feels like I've been swept up in a wave that's rushing away from the shore; away from everything I love; everything I need to pay attention to.

My day starts really early.  When I arrived, Brisbane was 16 hours ahead of Dallas.  The easy way to calculate that is to take the current time in Brisbane, subtract 4, and that's the time in Dallas, except reverse the morning to night and vice versa.  This weekend though, Dallas changed to daylight savings time, which means we only subtract 3.

So if I want to talk to my colleagues in Dallas (and I often do), I have a window of opportunity: from about 5 am Brisbane time (2 pm DFW) to 8 am Brisbane (5 pm DFW).  I need to work Saturday here, since it's Friday in DFW, but no relief Monday, since the customer is busy that day.

I'm not complaining - it could be worse in so many ways.

But today I voiced a dream.  Someday, I want to hang up my traveling shoes and move somewhere not Texas (Minnesota I hope, but I'm keeping the dream open just in case).  I want to contribute as much as I do today to my work, but without ever leaving home.  I'd have a lovely organic garden, and keep chickens in the backyard for the eggs.  I'd always have at least 2 cats, whom would of course never leave the house (I do want those chickens to be happy).

I'd rarely if ever have to pay for a petsitter, a house cleaner, or a lawn mower.  That alone would save me about $500 a month, which I could put towards more plants, or chickens, or chicken feed.

And you know what?  I don't care if I live in a camper, an apartment, or a mansion.  My dream isn't the house I live in, the car I drive, or the power I have.  It's about contributing, loving, and taking care of myself.

One more day here in Australia, three weeks in Fort Worth, then back again.  Then it's time to move to my Summer Palace!

If It's January, I Must be Going to Australia

I don't feel like I've traveled much in the past year.  But in the past 4 months?  Yeah.

October was Spain and Italy.  November was San Francisco and Seattle.  December - Ethiopia.

It's January, and now I'm headed to Brisbane, Australia.  Could be for 2 weeks, could be for a month.  Heck, I'm supposed to leave tomorrow and I don't even know if I have tickets yet, so why would I know how long I'm going to be there?

No wonder I've been feeling a little harried these days.  I remodeled my upstairs somehow in the midst of all this travel, and sold my 2nd car.  I will sign over the title and collect the cash tomorrow as soon as the bank opens.  Right before I leave for the airport.  I got to see the NDSU Bison win the NCAA Football Division 1 championship, and my niece sent me video that shows us rushing the field after the game.  Best weekend ever!

One of my cats showed me how HE felt about my stress level last night by peeing and pooping in my bed.  I know from previous experience that it does me no good to fuss at him - I'm better off keeping him as calm as possible.  Between Ethiopia and now he hasn't done this at all, probably because I was home for a change and not racing around getting ready to leave again.

Speaking of critters, I've been riveted the last couple of nights by a black bear named Jewel, who lives in Ely, Minnesota.  She's about to give birth, and researchers have put a camera and microphone in her den.  Thousand of people have been glued to their computer screens watching her every move, from "counting" her fingers, eating snow, stretching, and yawning to listening to her snore/moan in her sleep.  She's sound asleep right now - I think it was false labor.  Check out www.bear.org if you want to watch Jewel yourself...or Lucky, Honey, or Lily, all who have cameras in their dens too.

One more load of laundry and I'm off to bed.  I'll be dreaming of summer and snuggling with bear cubs, er, I mean kittens.