A Teensy Sign

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

You know how when you’re really busy and/or distracted and/or not feeling 100%, (or whatever), something can happen and you shrug it off, chalk it up to “it couldn’t be helped?” But then the next day you’re kind of bummed about it?

Well, after running around on Saturday, I was pretty tired at night, so decided to leave my front earrings in, no big deal. Didn’t bother even checking them. Small studs rarely come out overnight. Except … I woke up Sunday morning, and one of them, indeed, was missing. I did a search of the likely places it could have gone, and then, just chalked it up to “whatever.”

But as the day wore on, I was bummed about it. They are these cool little Celtic knots, and had become my “go-to” earrings when I couldn’t decide what to put in my ears, or needed something simple to complement a busy shirt or scarf … my back-up earrings. Damn. Now I was really bummed at the prospect of never having them to wear again. Who knows when or where I got them? OK, so be it. Life goes on; this is the small stuff.

So now it’s Monday morning, a boatload of stuff to do, and I lean over to see how the stain on my “Berber” living room carpet is coming along – the cat vomit one I had Nature-Miracled to death – and there’s the earring, hiding in plain sight. I still find it bizarre how such a tiny thing – quite literally, too – can so brighten a day; I was grinning from ear to ear, and felt like I ought to be thanking somebody. Was I just plain lucky? (Since I don’t believe in coincidences, I tend to doubt that.) I could go on with my own personal conjectures, but I won’t. What it seemed like to me – as these seemingly insignificant instances in all our lives can be – was that it was a sign – a teensy one – that all was well.

And you know what? I’ll take it.

Women Helping Women or ….

/ still a dreamer

If you give to any charities, you are aware that most charities sell their mailing lists to other charities. So where you may be a regular supporter of a few, you receive scores of other appeals requesting your donations to support their mission.

I understand this. What I find particularly difficult is that because I truly believe in the charities I donate to, those organizations with similar missions often resonate deeply with me as well. How do we decide to whom we give when the funds available to give are limited? I already have a stack I’d like to give to and more requests continue to pour in. In the last couple weeks, I must have received at least 20 appeals, some from those I already give to, and many other charities with worthy missions that want me to come on board with them.

The piece in all of these that really caught my eye told me that:

  • One in three women worldwide are beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in their lifetime
  • Up to 70% of women worldwide encounter violence.
  • As many as 6 out of 10 migrant women from Central America are raped on their journey to the United States
  • Native American and Alaska Native women are 2.5 times more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted than women in the U.S. in general
  • In 2010 alone, an estimated 15,000 women were raped in eastern Congo.

The letter went on to describe the circumstances of individual women, one in the Democratic Republic of Congo who spoke out about being raped by a soldier and was raped again and bayonetted in the stomach. There are numerous other bone-chilling instances of women being burned because their dowries were too small, stoned to death because they “dishonored” their families, etc. Reference is made to the many women who, unable to support themselves, endure years of domestic abuse.

It is hard to believe that in our so-called enlightened world with all its technological advances that we remain so utterly barbaric towards one half of the human race … women. Madeleine K. Albright said, “There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.”

I feel compelled to help, but how? Do I give financially? Should I give to this organization, (Amnesty International), or to local organizations? Or should I help organizations that fight mammoth industrial giants who will knowingly destroy entire geographical areas and cause widespread species extinction?  Or help American Indian elders without food and heat? Or organizations that fight the worst of animal cruelty? Or … or … or?

Is there not a special place in hell for those of us who are aware of such need and do nothing? I was profoundly struck by these egregious offenses against women, yet I am aware of the need in every corner of the planet, and I, as can we all, can always do something. Whatever it is.

Oddly enough, after reading all these appeals, I remembered why I wanted to write children’s books … I want to open children’s eyes, to show them the love and beauty in the world, but also to show them that they have the power to change what’s wrong. They needn’t know at 5 years old that women are being sexually assaulted throughout the world, but they can know that helping and caring about others, be it humans, animals or our planet, makes a difference. And a well-crafted children’s book can show that in the most un-obvious of ways. So while I’ve yet to figure out where to send my next donation, perhaps  writing from my heart is my unique gift to a troubled world, the gift I can always give.

My guess is that you, no matter how much money you do or don’t have,  have plenty to give, too.

Baking Muffins in Broad Daylight

/ still a dreamer / 1 Comment

What a shocking idea. Now this may not be so for some of you reading this, but baking for myself has been a rarely-indulged-in luxury for quite some time. And on the occasions when I do bake, it’s usually to bring to someone else’s house for a gathering. Well, not today. I felt like baking muffins, and bake I did. I went through my recipe stash with something apple in mind, and found it … Apple Buttermilk Muffins.

In broad daylight … the audacity. An accusing voice from somewhere within nagged me to get going on my taxes, complete another drawing, go food shopping, and please! Clean!

I’ve really got to get a better grip on that no-fun, party-pooper. And baking just for me was a step in the right direction. Perhaps I gave in a wee bit when I cleaned the whole top and hood of the stove, but really, we have to start out in a clean spot, right?

I popped in the Breaking Dawn CD – such a great album – gathered ingredients, and happily chopped, measured and whisked. Although many muffin recipes have you making 12 muffins, I always make 6 bigger ones. They came out gorgeous, and then I had the audacity to have more fun – yup, in broad daylight – photographing them. And then eating one. (OK, actually not in that order.) Mmmmm, mmmm, mmmm.

You can make these truly chock-full-of-apple Apple Buttermilk Muffins, too. They’re from the Mr. Breakfast web site which has way more than muffins; it’s got everything you could ever think of in the way of breakfast, which is my favorite meal of the day. Enjoy!

Light Snow at Dusk

/ still a dreamer / 1 Comment

Let me say, as I post this, that I am well aware that this is not a brilliant photograph. Why I wandered outside to take a few shots was because of the magical, blue-cast light. We haven’t had much snow lately, and they’d predicted a dusting to an inch. But it was more than just these light, airy snowflakes at dusk that drew me outside; they were illuminated by a rising full moon. What part did my flash going off have to do with it? Something, no doubt, and that is most evident on the white porch elements at left, but the rest is what it looked like … a theme in blue, lightly speckled with snow.

I was awakened this morning about 4 by that beautiful full-moonlight streaming in my window. A part of me wanted to throw on my robe, climb out the window, and range the back porch roof for fabulous shots. Now that would have been foolish for oh-so-many reasons. So I bathed in her light for awhile and went back to bed, happy that I had taken a few photos of the moon dreaming herself skyward hours earlier, if only indirectly.