PNewL PNewS 20.4

PNewL PNewS

Volume 20 No. 4                                              “All the pnews that phits.”                  December 2012

The Latest Story of the Extremely Large Hound

      I heard someone on the radio say something like “It seems we can have several different emotions or feelings or reactions all at one moment.” Ain’t that the truth. The extremely large hound and I are out on a walk and it’s cold and quiet and beautiful and I am worried and scared and happy and sad and thoughtful. And this is all before breakfast!

        Let me start at the beginning. A couple months ago, Bear gave me his paw, like he always does when there is a thorn in it. There was no thorn in it though. I wasn’t sure what it was but I convinced him he was going to be fine. Later, I noticed he was limping slightly and his “wrist” joint looked swollen. I took him to the vet, a new vet whose office might be slightly less stressful than the big bright busy place of long frantic waits we have gone to up until now. She said it might be a strain and to try aspirin. This was encouraging—the other place charged for fancy drugs. Three weeks later, it seemed time to go back. No change. She said they would need to take an x-ray. 

      It’s osteosarcoma—bone cancer—a painful aggressive sort that occurs in large dogs, especially rottweilers, which Bear’s mother was reported to be, especially in dogs that were neutered early, which we did because he was a total pain in the neck. (His were the cutest little macadamia nuts they removed that day according to the vet.) I noted that when we contacted specialists at the vet school in Raleigh, they didn’t bother to respond. He’s a textbook case. As Chris said, there’s not a lot in the Western medicine toolbox for this.

      After I got the diagnosis, I left Bear there for an ultrasound and chest x-ray. I called Gini from a parking lot en route home. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t think. I shouldn’t drive. I know he is “just a dog” and people go through this all the time, but this is Sir Baru Bear the extremely large hound, my best friend, the light of my life. I know there are horrific things happening to humans who are important to people I care about. I knew he was going to live a short life but this is about 2 years short of a short life and that’s not fair. I know life is not fair but this is Sir Baru…oh wait, I already said that. On the one hand, I know it all; on the other, I can still write this with tears in my eyes and a heavy weight in my heart. I so want different outcomes.

      Tests were inconclusive as to whether the cancer had spread but I was touched that the x-rays brought tears to the eyes of all those at one vet office and several at others, including my neighbor vet who’s a big seemingly tough guy. Treatments include chemo and/or radiation and/or amputation. I confirmed with others who know much more than I that Bear is not a great candidate for amputation. Apparently if you get bone cancer it’s better to get it in your back leg, and maybe not carry most of the 125 lbs in your chest. Make a note.

     Things have calmed and we are in a pattern: Bear gets everything he wants and I am his slave. If I want to pretend I have my own life, I have to leave the house, which serves two purposes: I get to act normal and he gets much needed rest.

      I took him to the…pet communicator (I call her a dog whisperer but the previous term is what she calls herself). It was remarkably comforting. When she saw the x-rays she just looked at me and said, I am so sorry. Yeah me too. When she started talking to Bear, he stopped pacing and lay down. When I started asking end of life questions, he came over to me and lay down with his head on my foot. I believe this stuff.

       She was impressed at how in sync we are with our thoughts about treatment and the future. Bear has had a happy life he feels is complete. He is, of course, more worried about me (though has interesting ways of showing it). He also added that he would like more meat. So it’s pain management, keep the dog calm, and meat. The calm part is impossible. He has bizarre bursts of energy that would challenge any human to stop. One of the vets said, “You have to do what’s right for your situation—amputation, chemo, radiation or palliative care, keeping the dog calm…or some people even let them just run.” We are opting for the last plus the drugs. If it’s only a little while, let him do it as he likes.

      I could go on about this but this is probably more than enough. Meanwhile, hug your furry (or feathered?) friends for me. And if you don’t have one of those, well, I spose you could hug a human. Hohoho.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• I recently listened to two Rick Bragg books on tape: Prince of Frog Town and All over but the Shoutin’ both of which are about his rough and tumble childhood and growing up in extreme poverty, part of that time under the thumb of an abusive alcoholic father (and a daring and doting mother). They were entertaining and heartbreaking all at once (highly recommend). At the same time, I was reading letters of intent as a grants committee member. The services these organizations want to offer to counties in Western North Carolina were inspiring and eye-opening, the need so great. I find myself being incredibly grateful for where I landed in the universe. What great good luck!

• The other morning, the birds emptied the small feeder in under an hour and the larger feeder in under three hours. I was impressed. The bummer is that filling the feeders gets Bear so riled up I am afraid he might hurt himself so I can’t do it as often as these busy birds need me to. Alas.

• Sounds of the wild and not so wild. This morning I heard what I think must be coyotes… An owl or is it two? And then…a donkey? I am such a suburbanite…

• I am working on a theory that some of us are more affected by gravity than others. This would excuse my miserable and brief attempt at tap dancing. The research started a while back when I was skipping. Skipping is harder than it used to be. Seems I leave the earth and immediately return. There used to be more time airborne.

• Whilst picking up garbage along my road, I have been introduced to a new category in the grocery store— flavored malt liquor/beverage. One can contained “Twisted Tea”—half tea, half malt beverage. I brought the other one inside because I can’t seem to remember the words on the label—Fruit Punch Four Loko Malt Beverage with Artificial Flavors, 12% alcohol. Yum. I know I have seen similar things in the Liquor Store (we have ABC stores here in North Carolina)—bubble gum flavored vodka, for instance. It’s a concept.

• Speaking of things I find along the road. There is a guy (I assume) who drinks a beer on his way home from work (I assume) and he pops the cap back on the bottle and threw it on the hillside. Up until recently, it was a tall good brew—like Fat Tire, Anchor Steam or Sierra Nevada. I applauded his taste, while snarling at the litter. Recently, this has changed (the economy?) and for a while I found tall cans of Bud Lite Platinum (seriously?) but since there was no cap, I couldn’t be sure it was the same guy. This morning: a tall bright blue bottle of the aforementioned Bud product…with the cap firmly reattached.

• My neighbor the falconer got his bird! Her name is Rocket Girl (they will all be named for beers) and she is a GORGEOUS juvenile red-tailed hawk. She will live in the mews til spring when she will return to the wild and the whole process will repeat next fall. Meanwhile, she is practicing hunting though as of this writing has not been successful (bunnies are fast!), but she returns when Jeff whistles. I know this is too much information but it is so foreign and fascinating, I had to share.

• There is a group in San Francisco, of course, that is throwing Device Free Drinks parties. (NY Times 12/16, Style section) After partiers detached from their WMDs (wireless mobile devices), they were encouraged to have conversations—there were conversation icebreakers available—or play games or draw or type on a typewriter.. I approve. This is a trend that needs to spread.

Things I am Thankful For

* I survived the Asheville Quilt Show (and signed up to do some of it again—see resolution about learning to say no below)

* Weather--I understand people liking the change of seasons. A whole new set of clothes I forgot about.

* Blacksmithing!!

* The extremely large hound

* My Mayberry life

* Not just the library but the service it provides. The kids who come in for Story Time are so happy to be there. It’s inspiring, uplifting.

* I’m going to Cuba in January!!

In a local paper, there is a Best of Asheville competition each year and after something has won its category for so many years running, they are automatically in the Hall of Fame. These are my HOF thankfuls.

* Friends

* Family (some of them)

* Knowing so many who do such amazingly good work

* Knowing so many who are so generous with money, time, talents

* Opportunity (still and again)

* The circumstances I was born into

New Year's Resolutions

* Hang out in coffee shops

* Dance more

* Laugh more

* Close them doors and let the windows open

(Repeats from last year)

* Learn to say no....diplomatically

* Quilt more

* Have more fun

* More adventures

* Read NY Times Magazines in the year in which they were published

"Boundaries; you always have boundaries. Let someone else choose them and they're restrictions. Choose them yourself and they're principles."  Unknown

May your holidays be merry and bright and 

here's hoping 2013 brings a saner more content world.

Here's to y'all!

PNewL PNewS 20.3

PNewL PNewS

Volume 20 No.3                  “All the pnews that phits.”                  October already? 2012

                                                             My Mayberry Moments
     I went into Weaverville this past Friday to meet Millie, my new friend who I met in California, for breakfast. She sat across from me at breakfast one morning at a conference (www.edgefunders.org/) in Berkeley and she thought maybe my coffee cup was hers—it was from a company in Asheville. It was one of those, what-is-that- doing-here moments. I hadn’t seen anyone from Asheville on the list of attendees but she works for an org out of NYC—so there’s the confusion. Anyway, we hit it off and have met up a couple times and this was for me to meet her friend—we’ll call her Cathy, because that’s her name—who is a quilter.
     As I got out of my car in the “downtown lot,” I saw my neighbor Jeff sweeping the stoop of his store and putting out his signs. It was a gorgeous crystal clear fall morning and the scene was a precursor of things to come—it was sweet. I went into the store to hassle Jeff a bit because it’s so much fun. He’s such a nice guy, I enjoy harassing him. He has just become a licensed falconer and hopes in the next week to adopt his first bird. I am sure that is not the term—he’s looking for a bird in the wild that will live next door for a season and then will be released. He’s built a handsome mews which will house the bird (cuter than my shed which makes me feel just a little bad). It occurred to me...is there a gift situation approaching? A bird shower?
      Breakfast was very pleasant. I have become quite fond of hanging out in coffee shops and this was a good time. Millie and Cathy were good company and provided an opportunity to vent about the upcoming election, quilting and schedules. Another moment of sweet.
     Off to the library—my home away from home—where I needed to offload some books that I wish I wanted to read but never will. It is time to clear the decks—well, one of them at least. I walked in and it was kind of like a scene from Cheers—instead of Norm! I was greeted with Peggy! It’s friendly. A brief chat and then on back down almost the full length of Main Street.
     The woman pruning the bushes out front of the little antique store said, Hay! How ya doin? (I won a gift certificate at her store in a raffle. Buy raffle tickets in Weaverville—you are bound to win!) I pop in there on occasion, and walk by and wave often. Next was Rodney’s Auto Repair or something like that. I buy a soda from his machine when I volunteer at the library. He usually says “Hi” and often says, “Best deal in town” (the soda) and I have to agree. This morning, a hearty hello. Continued on down past the folks hanging out at the election tent—offering sample ballots and plenty of advice. John was there with his handsome dogs. Luckily, I had a biscuit in my pocket. Next stop was the early voting booths and that took longer and struck me as pretty serious after all this sweetness and light, but glad to be there and get it done. Now let’s see if the robocalls stop.
     On the way back, I stopped in at Maggie B’s to talk about the possibility of highlighting Habitat’s Women Build at one of her Friday night wine tastings. She said she’d look at her calendar and let me know. Bought a couple bottles of wine—she’s a nice young entrepreneur and we have to support the local economy, dontcha know. Dropped in to pick up a prescription at Weaverville Pharmacy and was out the door in under 3 minutes—can’t do that at CVS. (When they asked me why I wanted to get my prescriptions there—there was an application!—I wrote, I hate waiting in line at CVS.)
     Did I mention it was a beautiful day, smack dab in the middle of leaf season? You couldn’t have wiped the goofy smile off my face. It was one of those days when everything seems just so darned perfect it makes me giddy. I’m going to remember this one.

                                                            Things I am Learning
                                                    & Miscellaneous Observations
• I have a small tray ($1 at the ReStore) that I load up with breakfast things, vitamins, water, coffee, blender drink, lip-stuff, pen, Kleenex. I carry all those things to wherever breakfast will be happening—lately on the front porch since I got this cool wrought iron/glass table 1/2 price at Care Partners. Bear likes it because he can keep an eye on things from there. In the winter, I use a tray that Ed and Millie gave me from their travels, and we only go as far as the dining table. It makes a little ritual of breakfast, which makes for a good start to the day. And I like my trays... they make me happy.
• Every time I settle into a coffee shop...reading writing drinking eating...I think, I should do this more often. (Note to self: Just do it.)
• It’s been a long time since I last wrote the PNewS. I have been thinking of all that has happened—the Gini/Bear/Peggy Annual Retreat at Holden Beach, a reunion of Raymond family in a funky house on the Russian River, a reunion with Lisa in Berea Kentucky which is a charming artsy town just over yonder (and Lisa is pretty charming herself), and the successful completion of duties as Publicity chair of the Asheville Quilt Show. That deserves its own bullet point—well they all do, but there isn’t room. The Quilt Show gig was a bit of a slog, much of which I have to admit I enjoyed. I think the downside was the intensity that I was supposed to maintain for eight months was more than makes me comfortable. I must like being a chair though—I picture the little maple chairs my parents had—as I am now one in a different location.
• I have two small action hero types (one from Star Wars that I found in the Bed Bath and Beyond parking lot, and the other found at Folly Beach one Thanksgiving a couple years ago) that are sentries for my back gate (I stapled their feet to the posts). They are beginning to show their wear. S’pose they are not warranteed for two or three years outside 24/7? The brightly colored one from the beach has to lie down now as the elastic in his knees has worn out—know the feeling?
• Bear thinks the only reason I should have my hand in my pocket is to retrieve biscuits. He is wrong, of course, especially now when it’s getting cold.
• I threw a CAbi party this week. So unlike me. CAbi is where Chico’s clothes and Tupperware meet. Personal shopping in my home. I worried this one to death. I painted the kitchen, shampooed the rugs, boxed up reams of papers and months of NY Times, shoveled Bear’s toys to make room for this event. Rebecca, my CAbi representative, arrived at 3 for the 5pm party. We hauled in hundreds of pounds of clothes and racks and lamps and mirrors. Set up was painless, wine and cheese were set out, and folks arrived. Rebecca did her spiel and the moment she stopped speaking, women were throwing their clothes off and trying things on. There was a spot for the shy among us to change but she wasn’t there apparently. Soon, folks were placing orders and Allison and I were putting things back on the racks and then they were gone. It was the most frantic less than an houre I can remember. Rebecca is still tallying but says it was a success.
• It’s hard to remember life before iTunes. This morning on our walk, I was humming and singing a John Prine tune which it suddenly occurred to me I didn’t own. That made me wonder how I could know so many of the words (phrases of three or four in a sea of ones I couldn’t remember) of a song I didn’t own. Well, I might have owned it on a tape or album…Anyway, I got home and dialed up iTunes, typed in “Come on baby, spend the night with me” and there it was…actually called “Six O’clock News”…and 99 cents (plus tax) later, it was mine. The joy of technology (and John Prine songs) and credit cards.
• As most of you should know by now, I am bonkers about Habitat’s Women Build program. I am the head groupie for the Asheville affiliate. I have investigated getting my own hard hat, perhaps in pink. Anyway, I am on the leadership team which is now focusing on advocacy rather than fundraising (phew)—though I still encourage you to donate (go to http://www.ashevillehabitat.org, hit donate, donate-online, and at the drop-down menu Area to Support, highlight Women Build). Betsy noticed, in her infinite wisdom, that Women Build Leadership Advocacy Team could be shortened to WomBAT, and so that’s who we are. My reaction was to google wombat to find a good image to put on our agenda and oh the things you can learn on the internet. How much do you know about wombats? How much would you like to know? Here’s the best factoid – one you can share at parties when things get a little dry. I am hoping this won’t offend…From Wiki.answers.com: “Wombats produce cube shaped ‘scats’ …(they) leave scats to mark their territory atop rocks and logs, and cube shaped scats are less likely to roll away from the wombat's territory.” They also are rumored to have eyesight issues and they can mark their way home (like Hansel and Gretel) with the aforementioned scat and know that it won’t be rolling away. Fun facts to know and tell.
• A late addition to this year’s New Year’s resolutions: I am going to work on being a normal person during the holidays and not the depressed Scrooge I was last year. No comments please, I am trying.
• I take a while to get to parts of the Sunday NY Times and then I save bits of it to share so it’s old news, but I think it’s worth sharing—and it will get it off my desk…July 8th Sunday Business, the article is called “Has ‘organic’ been oversized?” It’s really interesting. Matter o’ fact I may not be able to throw it away as there are some statistics and company names I want to remember. First, Eden foods is one of the few organic product companies that have remained independent. Kellogg, Pepsico, Coca-Cola, Cargill, ConAgra General Mills Kraft and M&M Mars own many of the so-called organics these days. The most concerning takeaway for me: The National Organic Standards Board, which is peopled by folks from the aforementioned mega businesses, has increased the number of approved “nonorganic materials” allowed in “organic” foods from 77 to over 250. Huh? You say. Me too. You can read the whole depressing business at http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/08/business/organic-food-purists-worry-about-big-companies-influence.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0
• I am reading a book called “Where did I Leave My Glasses?” (Martha Weinman Lear). It’s really comforting. A lot of talk about normal memory loss. Confirmation that our ability to multi-task decreases as time marches on—everything apparently decreases which may be why time seems to move faster. Time is not moving faster, we are just slower. One of my favorite subjects is the “Worried Well.” If you can relate to wondering if you have a disease after hearing the symptoms of a disease on a commercial or from a friend, then you are a Worried Well. I guess something is going to get us, so we are trying on the possibilities. Onward.


I do so many things well, I can afford to fail at something. Gini’s friend Mike

PNewL PNewS Volume 20 No 2

PNewL PNewS

Volume 20 No. 2                  “All the pnews that phits.”                  Aimed at July, hit Early August 2012

Traveling to Not THAT Brazil

     I so want to tell wonderful thought-provoking emotional stories about my recent trip to Brazil. It was a wonderful thought-provoking trip, filled with visits and experiences that hover in my brain throughout my day. When I start talking about it to friends, I feel tongue-tied and can’t find the perfect sound bite that will capture the experience. Explanations and background go on too long and faces start to glaze over. A few suggested that times are tough all over the world—a comment I don’t find helpful, productive or much else but which may be representative of people’s ability to focus on a small state in Brazil that they haven’t been to and the small number of people who are living there whose lives are tough who they will never meet. We all have our causes and interests. I would like to tell you a little about mine.

     We went to Pernambuco state in NE Brazil—kinda where the country pokes out into the Atlantic. It’s a jagged horizontal rectangular shaped area about the size of Massachusetts that is dwarfed by the rest of the country. I felt like we had seen a fair amount of countryside until I looked at Pernambuco in relation to the country. A little peanut of a place. It is pretty rural, except for the parts that aren’t—Recife has over 4 million people. Who knew? At one point, we were staying in an inn along a dusty road in what felt like something out of the Old West or maybe the Australian Outback. I said out loud, as there was no one around to hear: Where the hell are we?

     I was there with Grassroots International which is a non-profit that “works around the world to help small farmers and other small producers, indigenous peoples and women win resource rights: the human rights to land, water and food.” [Words in quotes in this come from the GI website…why reinvent the wheel?] They obviously do it well as we were treated at every stop as honored guests. And they attract good supporters—it was a congenial group.

     We visited many members of the Landless Workers Movement (MST) in various locations and living in various states of establishment of their communities. “Under the Brazilian Constitution, landless families have the right to occupy arable land that is not being used to grow food to feed themselves.” The transition from unused arable land to occupied is often bumpy with lots of time in courts and often violence. I never felt in danger but we heard many stories of violent actions against folks who are simply trying to grow food to feed their families. It was a profound experience. I have often, well, joked that when the revolution comes, I am hosed. These folks won’t be. I was inspired by their resilience—their stick-to-it-ness, and their humor and laughter in the face of challenging life threatening daily experiences that last for years. They sang to us, danced for us, fed us well, gifted us.

     At one stop—I only mention it because it is a feeling I will never forget and which still stirs deep emotions when I think about it—we were visiting an encampment that had recently moved inside the boundaries of a landholder because they were being violently harassed by the owner of the land they were occupying. The landowner had hired guns who stay in a blind across the field, shooting sometimes into the air, sometimes at people. The MST folks had lost most of what they had owned and were living in tents covered in black plastic. There were gobs of children in the community. These folks were under siege but were committed to staying. As we came off our comfy air-conditioned van, the community members cheered for us, for showing up, for our support. I will never forget the feeling. I can’t describe it, but it was humbling and I know I want to do more than just show up.

     We also visited members of the People Affected by Dams (MAB) and communities of indigenous folks who are living along one of the most beautiful rivers I have ever seen, the Sao Francisco, and are…in the way of “progress.” There are literally hundreds of plans to dam and move water from this and other rivers in Brazil to keep up with its growth and prosperity. Sigh. We met one woman who was 101 who was having a chapel built near her home that she had wanted her whole life. Her goal was to live to see it finished. If the powers that be have their way, it will soon be under water. Ironically in this same area, the Tourist Bureau is featuring photographs of this gorgeous spot and the lovely river as part of their publicity—never mentioning that it could all be gone, along with the land that has belonged to these people for generations. Call me naïve but I don’t get it.

     I was sitting at the window of the restaurant atop the JB Hotel, looking out over Petrolina with the Sao Francisco river in the middle ground. I kept tearing up. The river means so much to so many, and big guns have their sites on changing its course and the course of a lot of people who've lived along its banks for generations. Epic. And then, how much cash should I get at the airport? Will I have time for a shower now or after the site visit? Wonder how the dog is doing...Popcorn brain. It often confuses me that we can think and feel almost conflicting things at the same time. I just spent ten days meeting with folks fighting for their homes, land, history. And we laughed and danced and ate really well and traveled with good people.

     So now I am home and all the things that are here to do stand before me and I think about those people in a small state in northeastern Brazil who were so grateful and so gracious for and during our visit. What to do? I’m pondering on that.

Note: I have posted photos on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.3715570682588.2151231.1075330452&type=3) that have captions and on Flickr where they don’t. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/23615534@N06/) I don’t know if these will work, but we do what we can. Let me know if I can be of assistance.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• I get a kick out of the Dewey Decimal system. Al Franken and Ann Coulter next to each other. Love, relationship books segueing into marriage, and parenting, and then divorce, civil or contentious, gay or straight.

• As I have mentioned before, I live in a rural kinda setting and there are lots of people who know how to do things I don’t. Now, they are trying to citify us a bit by paving the road (well, not our road—the one up a ways--but I fear it’s in the works). When I was walking the large hound, I saw a tree leaning precipitously over the road. I thought, Well at least those handy folks in the ‘hood are around to deal with this so I don’t have to, and Bear and I ran under it. On our way home (30 minutes later?), the tree had already been cut down and shoved into the woods—turned out the folks who are paving the road couldn’t get their gigantic machinery under the tree so they used some of that machinery to remove the tree—remarkably quickly.

• Why don’t people call you when they say they are going to, and in this case, I am talking about people I am paying? “I’ll call you when they are ready.” “We can make an appointment when I call you to check on your tooth.” Nothing from either. And that’s just this week.

• The things people choose to wear to the airport. Oh my!
• Who from the airlines thinks these menus up? Breakfast = pound cake, cream cheese, crackers, orange gel with some unidentifiable fruit matter. In what country is this breakfast? 

• On the less serious side of our trip to Brazil (and there was plenty of less serious, believe me), we became good friends with the adult beverage of Brazil, the caipirinha. Basically muddled lime, cachaca (sugar cane rum), sugar and ice. I don't miss it, but it sure hit the spot after a day on the road. 

• I took a grrrreat quilting-esque class this week that kinda turned a light back on in my mood. It’s funny what can do that. Let’s see how long I can keep it burning.

• I have been spending way too much time doing health related things. They are all unrelated—multiple eye dr., treatment for pinched nerve (and lousy posture while we are at it), and dental work for the dentally abused as a child. I had a dentist who fought the “big bad brownies” in a child’s mouth by attacking them with a honking big drill and no novocaine. Left the tooth with little to keep it in fine fettle and the patient with a terror related to dental appointments. This year, my dear friend and dentist of nigh on 30 years, Roni Dawn, released me (she’s in CA, BTW) to find a new dentist closer to home. It’s been an unpleasant adjustment. Today, when they seated a new crown (love the lingo), the new dentist said, are you ok? I said, yes, I just want this to be over. I can be such a child sometimes. I said, it’s nothing personal, I just want to go home. I realized as I left, all of this stuff is almost over…for now. I am at my worst just before it ends.

• Someone dumped a McDonald’s bag along the road last week. I tried to pick it up but it was falling apart so I thought I would wait until I had a large bag to put it in—I do a lot of trash collecting on my road. I did note that there were some French fries left and I thought, oh man this is going to be a mess. One week later, in the land of bears, raccoons, possums, wandering dogs, not one French fry has been touched in that bag. Says something, don’t it?

The Mystery of the Body in the Bag

     Bear found a large bagged object one morning while walking. That night, it started to smell. Sculley said he wasn’t going to touch it. David said it could be a body because if you chop a body up small enough, there wouldn’t be any elbows poking out. The next morning, it really smelled. I called Jeff and we decided I should call the Volunteer Fire Dept. They said they didn’t do stuff like that. (How is a body in a bag different from a cat in a tree?) They said to call the sheriff. I called Patrol, they said to call Communications. There was a fellow here in under an hour which I thought for a non-emergency event proved that despite a crime wave in Asheville, things were still pretty slow. The poor deputy went down to the bag and poked it a few times—each time, he came up for air, with a sour look on his face and I assume a sourness in his stomach. Finally, he came up and said he needed back-up, someone who was more experienced with this sort of thing. He considered it suspicious. Sculley said we didn’t want to disturb the crime scene. Many other TV crime show lines were bandied about. I said I didn’t think it was human, and the deputy asked why not and I said because I didn’t want it to be. He said it was suspicious though.

     Later he came by my house and reported that it was a deer. Turned out the suspicious part was long hair that was seen through a rip in the bag. It was the deer’s tail. He said he and his partner pondered what to do about it and they figured they couldn’t move it and really it is DOT’s problem as it is a state maintained road. He said I could try to get them to do something but they probably wouldn’t.

    The Final Chapter: This morning, we walked by and the body was gone! The bag was in the creek (and the men in blue had thrown their crime scene gloves into the bushes…not a politically correct move in my book. I, of course, picked it all up, since that appears to be my job.) Per Loveeta’s suggestion, Bear rolled in what was left. The End.

    Moral of the story: There is a lot going on out there that we don’t know anything about.

A long time coming: PNewL PNewS turns 20

PNewL PNewS

Volume 20! No. 1!     “All the pnews that phits.”       May 2012

Stretching

     I started writing this in February, thinking I could beat the crunch I saw coming down the pike, and then the computer crashed, and then things got really busy, and then I started again and then lost it between platforms. Suffice it to say, The PNewS is 20 (and two months)!!! Woo-hoo!
     This has been an interesting year already. (It was even interesting two months ago when I started and you can imagine how much more interesting it has become...can't you?) I have signed up for several things I've not done before, committed to some things I probably shouldn't have. I am stretching and hoping I don't break. (Though, as of this writing, I am feeling a bit broken. More about that later.)
     First, there was Wood Turning (Spindles) where I was reminded that wood is not necessarily my medium. I enjoyed--really really did--learning the process but not  being treated like the girl in the room. I realize that my experience with power tools is lacking and in that way, I am "the girl" in the room but that's changing. I made a wooden mallet I kinda like, and part of a finial.
     Next stop, Blacksmithing for five days at the John C. Campbell Folk School. Jiminy! It was fab! Metal, unlike wood, CAN be forgiving. If you don't like what it looks like, you mess with the fire, heat it up just short of white-hot and pound on it again. And pounding on things is fun. So is messing with the fire. So is bending it into something that almost doesn't look like a 5-year-old made it. I came home with four hooks that don't match but hold things hanging in the garage, a few more hooks and a TP holder that are aimed for the bathroom, once I get a drill press (very handy machines), a pull handle for the shed, and a plant hook that looks a bit iffy, plus a few bits and pieces. Metal expense = $8.54. Experience? Well, priceless...sorta.
     Then on to a class on Hypertufa Containers and Mosaics, both of which were good old fashioned crafty fun with moderate stretching involved. Highly useable and transferable skills there.
     In the meantime, I forgot the lessons I have learned about saying No. When asked to be co-membership chair of the Asheville Quilt Guild (the supposed silent partner, doing database stuff), I said ok. When Katie sweetly asked if I would do Publicity for the Guild's show in September, I couldn't resist her kindness. By the time I realized I had bitten off a pretty big chunk, it was a wee bit late.
     While readying the database for the membership directory, one of my computers crashed...the one that could run the program that I  didn't know. I figured it would work out. Frankly, from my perspective it did, but Helen the Queen of Publisher, tightened it up and made it pretty. The "silent partner" part got left behind and I have actually gotten up in front of a couple hundred people, briefly, and didn't pass out or wet my pants, and I even made people laugh.
     It has been a busy year. And isn't that what it's all about? Staying on top of it all, learning new things, stretching, and hopefully having fun in the process. Oh and doing good work. Yes.

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

• So I spent a week at a forge pounding on hot metal and wound up with a couple kinda messy burns but they were small and healed quickly. After an absolutely gorgeous drive home, part of it through the Nantahala Gorge, I walked in the house, dropped all my stuff all over the house and headed to the shower. En route, I jammed my foot into my suitcase and did that hopping around man-that-hurts, swearing, stinging tears dance. I got into the shower, figuring that would help. It didn't. The baby toe started looking like a big fat creature. It changed colors and didn't move so well. This was not like all the other times I have abused my feet. Was it broken? Who knows, what does it matter. I hobbled. I thought I looked a little like Walter Brennan in The Real McCoys. Remember how he hitched his arms up as he limped? That was me. Three months later, it's healed. Injury #1 for 2012.
      Then I found myself with the occasional pain in a molar. I have an appointment with my dentist and dear friend Roni in June. I can make it....can't I? Au contraire! Whilst eating a stuffed mushroom cap, fer crissakes, I lost the back of my rear molar. It only hurt a little until something was hot or cold. Someone said "You can't break your tooth at 5pm on a Friday when your dentist lives 3000 miles away." Oh but I can! (By the way, the nice dentist on Sanibel filled it full of some miracle mix and he says it will last for two months or two years...and I have a dentist closer to home now.) Injury #2
     And finally, there is the rock that was bigger than my muscles. When I finally went to my chiropractor, I was declared "a mess."  The pain has started to move which I understand is a good thing. I now have feeling in all but my pointer finger. The pain has moved from the knot in my shoulder (which could be seen through the skin) into this point below my shoulder blade. Too much information? Perhaps. Injury #3
     The nice woman who administered ultra sound and electrical muscle stimulation (EMS) suggested that my body was trying to tell me that I can't do the things I once could. Is that what this is all about? I get it--Enough!
• I equate my level of discombobulation with the number of emails in my inbox. Under 30 makes me feel very peaceful. It never happens any more. I am now settling for 60+.
• The Guild owns the best hole punch I have ever used and it is in my possession, at least til March. I am inspired. Should you need holes punched, I'm your gal.
• What about a sign that reads "Speed Limit 45" inspires people to drive 29-32?
• And on that same road, which by the way is not that wide and throws a few curves, what's going on that people are regularly veering into my lane? Texting?? The other day it was the woman who delivers the mail. Ack!
• I am going backward in technology. I realized that I had gotten lazy with my birthday calendar, relying on Facebook to remind me which is REALLY lazy and not all that accurate. Not to mention the folks who aren't on Facebook...so I asked for a hard copy, paper birthday calendar for my birthday and it feels much better. Next I am thinking about a hard copy address book. I may actually want to send snail mail while I am away. What a concept.
• Women Build at Asheville Habitat has concluded successfully yet again. A good time was had by all and we learned a lot while laughing a lot plus we built Rhonda's family a home! I miss it already.
• Recently, I received bits of news from friends that feel so big, and it reminded me that most times, other people have bigger news than the PNewS...but is that going to stop me? Probably not.
• In April, I took the extremely large dog to Florida for a vacation-->his. We actually took a brief vacation together, stopping to visit Carla and her partner on the "Space Coast." They were so accommodating, they located dog friendly restaurants so he could come to meals too.
     Then we drove across the state along the top of Lake Okeechobee. That's a hard lake to see. We kept stopping and wandering around, trying to get to high ground to see it. Never did. Then to Sanibel where he is vacationing with our pal, Gini. Good visits all around.
     It is interesting to me that no matter how devoted I am to Sir Baru Bear, his absence does not necessarily make my heart grow fonder, it is more out of sight out of mind. The first few days after I returned, I was never home. The 6-hour rule was no longer applied. Gotta be home in six hours to let the poor dog out (he's been asleep and probably not thinking about peeing but apparently I have). It's freeing.
     I realized the other day that I was growing blubbery. I know I haven't been at the gym due to injury but more importantly I have not been walking 2-4 times a day. I miss it. And I miss him for that. I also missed him in the middle of the night when something went bang. But mostly, it's ok. And by all accounts (certainly not his--he never calls, he never writes), Gini and the hound are having way too much fun.
     I was on the road yesterday and I saw a neighbor who always stops to say hello, mostly to Bear. I was so glad to see her because I had wanted to tell her why she wasn't seeing us every morning. She said she was so glad to see me too-she had been worried and kept meaning to ask a mutual friend what was up, to confirm that we were ok.
     We are fine. Just different. When I return from Brazil and San Francisco (lucky me), Gini will bring him back and the 6-hour rule will be back in effect. And that's ok with me.

A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams. - John Barrymore

Information on Ovarian Cancer

Mariah was recently diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She posted this on her website and I thought I would pass this information along. I don't know where it came from so i can't give credit where it is due.

Ovarian cancer is the fifth most common cancer among women, and it causes more deaths than any other type of female reproductive cancer.
The cause is unknown.
The risk for developing ovarian cancer appears to be affected by several factors. The more children a woman has and the earlier in life she gives birth, the lower her risk for ovarian cancer. Certain genes defects (BRCA1 and BRCA2) are responsible for a small number of ovarian cancer cases. Women with a personal history of breast cancer or a family history of breast or ovarian cancer have an increased risk for ovarian cancer.
Women who take estrogen replacement only (not with progesterone) for 5 years or more seem to have a higher risk of ovarian cancer. Birth control pills, however, decrease the risk of ovarian cancer.
Studies suggest that fertility drugs do not increase the risk for ovarian cancer.
Older women are at highest risk for developing ovarian cancer. Most deaths from ovarian cancer occur in women age 55 and older.
Symptoms
Ovarian cancer used to be considered a "silent killer." Symptoms were thought to appear only when the cancer was in an advanced stage. Now, doctors know this is not generally true. Even early-stage ovarian cancer can produce symptoms.
The Gynecologic Cancer Foundation, the Society of Gynecologic Oncologists, and the American Cancer Society recommend that if you have the following symptoms on a daily basis for more than a few weeks, you should see your doctor (preferably a gynecologist):

• Bloating
• Pelvic or abdominal pain
• Difficulty eating or feeling full quickly

Ovarian cancer grows quickly and can progress from early to advanced stages within a year. Paying attention to symptoms can help improve a woman's chances of being diagnosed and treated promptly. Detecting cancer while it is still in its earliest stages may help improve prognosis.
It should be understood, however, that these symptoms commonly occur and are not overly specific for ovarian cancer. While prompt follow-up with your doctor is important when one or more of these are present, there are many other explanations for these symptoms besides ovarian cancer.
Other symptoms are also sometimes associated with ovarian cancer. These symptoms include fatigue, indigestion, back pain, pain during intercourse, constipation, and menstrual irregularities. However, these symptoms are not as useful in diagnosing ovarian cancer, because they are also commonly experienced by women who do not have cancer.
Based on the symptoms and physical examination, the doctor may order pelvic imaging tests or blood tests. If these tests reveal signs of cancer, patients should be referred to a gynecologic oncologist who specializes in female reproductive system cancers.

PNewL PNewS Volume 19 Issue 5

PNewL PNewS

Volume 19 No. 5 “All the pnews that phits.” January 2012

 

                                   What’s the matter with Christmas?

Note: I wrote this article and then screwed up and didn’t save it so I may not be as brilliant as I was in the lost version. HA. I love that excuse!

I have not been particularly good about the holidays for the last many years. After The World Tour, I vowed to leave this country from Thanksgiving to New Years whenever I could. That has never happened though I just heard about a trip to Mali next December such that I could be gone before Christmas and return after New Year’s...that’s a start...Anyway, Gini asked me what it was that I didn’t like about the holidays and so, in this my issue of lists, I decided to make a couple more.

What I like about Christmas

* Music (love love love it all—I like carols and pop, and Jugband, James Taylor and Jewel, Fred Waring and The Pennsylvanians, Kings College Choir, the Messiah. And I just bought a CD version of Calypso Christmas that was played throughout my family’s Christmases forever. ‘Course I don’t work in a retail establishment that plays Holiday music on repeat from October through December)

* My Decorations

* Date nut bread

What I don’t like about Christmas

* Shopping (Don’t do it any more but feel that I should)

* Crowds (I popped into the mall once during December to get moisturizer of all things. There were 15 people ahead of me in line. I looked around and thought, Really? You folks put up with this?)

* Traffic (Popping into the mall was a miracle, it’s usually at a dead stop on Tunnel Road for several weeks around the holidays.)

* Forced gaiety (As Ann Marie said a hundred years ago in my youth, we are supposed to be hibernating at this time of year.)

* Build up (endless)

* Being short on family during a family oriented holiday (I know we should look to our chosen “family” but it’s the thought that counts)

* Spend spend spend (endless)

* Advertising (endless)

Waking up on Christmas eve morning this year, I felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders: it felt like...Christmas and birthdays all wrapped up together! We were no longer building up to Christmas--it was HAPPENING!! FINALLY. And that meant it would be over soon.

A few days before, neighbor David said he was thinking about a bonfire on Christmas night and I thought THAT’s my idea of celebrating. As I hit the crest of my driveway I was reminded that I had the makings of a bonfire, a slash pile, in my front yard. The party happened there with an assortment of neighbors numbering around 15. It was sweet—it was different and I wasn’t dressed in nice clothes and sitting in hard chairs making small talk (memories of Christmases of my youth when I did have family!). New Year’s was more of the same and now it IS a new year. Yay!

 

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• You will see later that I am still oh-so-fond of this place I landed in the wilds of Buncombe County. There is a listserv for our neighborhood and the following message appeared on it (reprinted with permission from the author). It reminded me, once again, that I got lucky.

“There is a long Southern tradition of waving to neighbors as well as oncoming traffic--if not an all-out wave, at least a raise of a couple of fingers off the steering wheel to acknowledge the other person. It is like giving a smile. If you do, you will get them in return. It is a very civilized practice that our Mommas would teach us and expect us to heed. As our busy lives have moved into a new century of cell phones and Tweets, we would do well to be reminded of our “proper upbringing.” If someone is new to the South, or to our wonderful rural setting, pick up this habit and you will feel great as people respond in kind. Everyone loves to be acknowledged.Y’all have fun now and make someone smile. John Hill”

• According to the Cooking Oil Recycling Program, over 66 gallons of used cooking oil is produced per person each year in North Carolina. First of all, that makes me want to barf. But, think of it--that's over 1 1/4 gallons a week. I tried to figure it out to the day but I got to the point that it's .181 gallon a day and there are 128 oz in a gallon and then I got confused. Am I right that's almost 3/4 quart PER DAY??? Someone is definitely helping with my share.

• When I arrived at the grocery store yesterday, after driving the six-ish miles from the house down a gravel road, then a windy road and finally a speedy road, I found my 25' Stanley Powerlock II measuring tape resting happily on the top of the trunk of my car, right where I left it. I was amused and very relieved.

* Bear loves the cold weather and prods me to go out more than normal. The other day we went out and he was running along and then suddenly lay down...in the snow...and raised his paw to me—Help! Fix this!—I think his feet were freezing. I made fun of someone who got her dog booties a while back. I am now wondering if they come in extra large!

* I’m taking a wood turning class and a blacksmithing class in the coming months. Moving from the soft crafts to the hard? We shall see. Martha gave me a book on blacksmithing and now I am a little nervous—more about things in my eyes than burns.

* I find wording on labels and signs interesting. It usually feels like it was created by committee and perhaps legal counsel. In NC, the sign in public restrooms--restaurants, grocery stores, among others--reads something like “Employees hands must be washed before returning to work.” So who, other than the employee, would be doing the washing? Santa put Buffalo Jerky in Bear’s stocking. On the tag is this note:  For the safety of your pet, observation is recommended when feeding your pet treats, bones or chews.

* I just came across an article I cut out from NRDC's ONEARTH magazine about bamboo. Apparently processing of bamboo into fiber can be really toxic, rayon-like (just when we thought we had found something sustainable...). So look for bamboo labeled "bamboo linen." That's mechanically processed. If this is old news I have only wasted a moment of your time and I have cleared yet another piece of paper off the desk.

* I got on the highway after leaving the gym a few days ago. About a mile down the road, there were cars driving towards me in my lane. It is really disorienting. I doubted that I had been right to get on the highway going the direction I was going. I wasn’t sure what to do. I slowed to a crawl—there wasn’t much traffic. Soon I came upon stopped traffic and all of the cars were turning around to come back and go down the on ramp and drive off on the surface streets. I wound up doing the same---when in Rome?—but it felt very odd and creepy. Not a cop around. There was what looked to be a rather nasty accident up the road a piece. Still...weird.

* I put three dollars in the bucket of the bell ringer at the grocery store. The ringer said "God bless you" (he had seen me looking for change just outside the door so he was prepared), but then he saw it was $3!!! He said, “God bless you--and your whole family." I almost went back and said, Do you mean that because on the Brown side alone we're at probably over 290 by now...but I didn't.

* When the computer program says, “Do you want to save your changes?” Pause, then respond. I just knee-jerked no need to I already did, only I didn’t. Boo-hoo.

Things to be thankful for

·      The beach--The combination of sand surf and sky

·      Friends

·      My family, alive and dead

·      Blue sky in winter

·      My neighbors (see friends, above)

·      Arugula that grows even after frost

·      The big dog

·      Candle light

·      Living in Weaverville

·      The library

·      Knowing so many who do such amazingly good work

·      Knowing so many who are so generous with money, time, talents

·      Sunrises sunsets

·      Pilates, yoga, etc

New Year's Resolutions

Once again I looked at last year’s list and I could keep most of the things on the list. I did talk to a solar guy before 2011 ended (yay) and he is coming back next week. He had the coolest gizmo that determines the amount of sun I get on my roof. Not enough for full on solar, but I can do hot water...so there, one off the list.

In no particular order

* Train us (me, the big dog...note order of the two)

* Learn to say no....diplomatically

* Quilt more

* Have fun

* More adventures

* Read NY Times Magazines in the year in which they were published

"You've got to be a thermostat rather than a thermometer. A thermostat shapes the climate...; a thermometer just reflects it." Cornel West

Angel Island Update

We got a campsite or two but not "ours."
More on that later.