But bad news still hounds me. There is good news: my stepmother doesn't have cancer. But bad news: I don't think they're speaking to me at the moment. And more bad news: one of my cats, Pearl, has gone missing. She injured her paw and I was trying to catch her to take her to the vet but she ran off and hasn't reappeared. Most unusual for her because she is ruled by her stomach and doesn't miss a mealtime. I've phoned vets. I've made up posters. I've called her name all over the neighbourhood. I can only hope she's holed up in someone's garage or shed or even house while she nurses her sore paw.
Have I mentioned that I hate this year? Someone tell me some good news or a good joke quick. I need to laugh and get rid of this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Thursday, 4 September 2008
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
Why I Love the Olympics
1. The favoured athletes don't alway win. Sometimes they trip up and less well known and financed teams get through.
2. Now that doping is policed better (remember East German women athletes?), I find it refreshing to see these men and women who work so hard at their sport competing and succeeding.
3. There are some strange bodies on this planet, but the Olympics finds a home for them. Witness the amazonian volleyball players or Michael Phelps. Thank God, he found swimming.
4. There are always poignant stories in the background. Remember the female gymnast who competed for Germany this year? She left Russia because her little boy needed treatment for leukemia. She's competed in something like three or four Games under the flag of three or four countries.
5. This was one of the best Games ever for Great Britain. I was cheering more for the Brits than I was for the Americans. I can't wait for 2012.
And now for something completely different:
My mother has done a lot of genealogy work on her side of the family. My mother-in-law has done it for her and her husband's sides. But for me, my dad's side of the family is question mark. I have a Germanic maiden name that is quite common and spelled a million different ways. I know that one of my ancestors on my dad's side came over from Russia. I thought it would be next to impossible to find out about our family history, especially since my dad shows zero interest in his forebears. Then my mother told me about a book she had that she thought she gave to me and I gave to my dad. She actually gave it to my nephew and he gave it to my dad. I borrowed it from my dad, who hadn't even looked at it.
It's about Germans who were recruited by Catherine the Great to settle in Russia along the Volga River. I know that my dad's grandfather was born in Russia and moved as a boy to the U.S. I asked my dad where his father and grandfather grew up. Lincoln, Nebraska. Well, guess what? When the tsar in 1864 issued an edict that all Germans in Russia would be drafted, a group of them came over to the U.S. and South America and explored where the Germans who wanted to move should go. And Lincoln, Nebraska, is one of the communities named. This book also lists the German names in each community in Russia. So it's not entirely impossible now to trace my father's side. This can be another project for me in my spare time.
2. Now that doping is policed better (remember East German women athletes?), I find it refreshing to see these men and women who work so hard at their sport competing and succeeding.
3. There are some strange bodies on this planet, but the Olympics finds a home for them. Witness the amazonian volleyball players or Michael Phelps. Thank God, he found swimming.
4. There are always poignant stories in the background. Remember the female gymnast who competed for Germany this year? She left Russia because her little boy needed treatment for leukemia. She's competed in something like three or four Games under the flag of three or four countries.
5. This was one of the best Games ever for Great Britain. I was cheering more for the Brits than I was for the Americans. I can't wait for 2012.
And now for something completely different:
My mother has done a lot of genealogy work on her side of the family. My mother-in-law has done it for her and her husband's sides. But for me, my dad's side of the family is question mark. I have a Germanic maiden name that is quite common and spelled a million different ways. I know that one of my ancestors on my dad's side came over from Russia. I thought it would be next to impossible to find out about our family history, especially since my dad shows zero interest in his forebears. Then my mother told me about a book she had that she thought she gave to me and I gave to my dad. She actually gave it to my nephew and he gave it to my dad. I borrowed it from my dad, who hadn't even looked at it.
It's about Germans who were recruited by Catherine the Great to settle in Russia along the Volga River. I know that my dad's grandfather was born in Russia and moved as a boy to the U.S. I asked my dad where his father and grandfather grew up. Lincoln, Nebraska. Well, guess what? When the tsar in 1864 issued an edict that all Germans in Russia would be drafted, a group of them came over to the U.S. and South America and explored where the Germans who wanted to move should go. And Lincoln, Nebraska, is one of the communities named. This book also lists the German names in each community in Russia. So it's not entirely impossible now to trace my father's side. This can be another project for me in my spare time.
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Does Anyone Have a More Dysfunctional Family?
Ah, I'm back in good old sunny England. But wait. What happened to the sun? I expected to come home and find the garden in full bloom. Instead, it's in full flop thanks to the rain and wind. And experiencing a 30 degree F drop in temperature upon disembarking in Manchester does strange things to the body.
But enough of the whining. How was my trip? Well, I am pleased to report that my stepfather has made an amazing turnaround. He can not only dress himself, but he gets out of chairs more easily than my mother, no longer uses a cane to get around, and is talking of driving the car again. Levadopa is a miracle drug. Will it last? If he has PSP (progressive supranuclear palsy), most likely not. If he has Parkinson's, the prognosis is more positive. My mother has let herself go a bit. No, a lot. Her twin sister, while weighing 20-30 pounds more, looks much better. She colors her hair, gets it permed, and her face is unlined. My mother's hair, on the other hand, is a wiry, gray mess. Her face, while not overly wrinkled, shows the stress of the past few years of looking after my stepfather. Not that I told her this.
While in Wyoming we took a road trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota. What a beautiful place! The roads were clogged with middle-aged and older motorcyclists on their way to Sturgis, the Mecca for bikers. There's a certain style that goes with riding a motorcycle -- call it biker chic. The men for the most part had to have facial hair, though it was mostly gray or white. The women wore form-fitting tops (and the forms weren't very fit) and shorts or jeans. Both sexes wore bandanas of some form. The motorcycles were mostly of the Harley Hog variety. We saw one group stopped by the side of the road. The men rode their bikes. The women followed in their cars. Quite sensible, I think. I saw very few wearing helmets or protective clothing. Not that those make a difference if a semi-truck decides to make an illegal turn and takes them out in the process.
But back to the Black Hills. We went to Mount Rushmore. Wish I could have stayed longer but we had Crazy Horse to see next. And what a contrast. Mount Rushmore took 14 years to complete. After 50 years, Crazy Horse's head is complete. It cost $10 to park at Mount Rushmore and admission was free. It cost $27 to park at the Crazy Horse monument. Then they want a further $10 for the bus up to the monument. We were fuming about the ripoff cost as we went into the guest center. I fumed a bit more while looking at the pictures of the "progress" of the monument. Then I started to explore the center and realized that the Crazy Horse monument has been mismarketed. It is much, much more than a monument of Crazy Horse. It is a monument to the Native Peoples of North America. Again, we didn't have enough time so I didn't get round the entire center. But in the car I looked at the brochure and saw that this is quite an ambitious undertaking, with plans for a university on the grounds. But it appears disorganized. They should concentrate on finishing the monument before starting up another phase of the project. They need to market it differently and put up a sign advertising the cost of getting in so people don't feel so ripped off when they get there. The Crazy Horse monument isn't a national park and doesn't get national funds as Mount Rushmore does. It is reliant on donations. But why can't they get some of the money going into the casinos on the reservations?
We also toodled round Custer State Park (it was an action-packed day). We took the wildlife loop and felt ripped off again because all we saw were white-tailed deer. Then, on our way out, the traffic was stopped. We peered out the window to see why. A herd of buffalo were crossing the road was why. They came straight past the cars with no cares or worries. It was truly an amazing sight. I've been to Yellowstone many a time and never saw anything as incredible as this. I leaned out my window taking pictures of these magnificent creatures till one came towards me. I rolled that window up pronto. The human response to this was also amazing. One fellow in his giant SUV decided he'd seen enough and wanted to leave so he flashed his lights and tooted his horn at the buffalo in his way, as if that would make them move. It didn't, but one did decide to leave some buffalo chips in front of his car. Another woman, also impatient to move, actually bumped a buffalo with her car. Eventually, the road cleared and we drove on. As we came past cars parked on the other side of the road, we heard one biker say loudly about us, "They don't care; they're not on vacation." Ah, ignorance!
We decided to go back next year to the Black Hills. There's so much more to see. And my mother enjoyed getting away for a few days. I also decided to organize a family reunion of my mother's side next year (I'd better get on it too). I told my aunt about it and I think she'll be taking over. That's fine by me. I would like to see family I haven't seen in years, and my kids expressed an interest in meeting up with more of the American side.
Now for the Florida ordeal. OK, it wasn't that bad, but it was close. Why? Because of the family in Florida. The Wyoming part of the trip is all about hiking and playing tennis and bonding with the kids. The Florida part is all about theme parks, the beach and endless streams of dysfunctional family.
I came to a few conclusions: 1) My sister and stepmother have more in common than meets the eye. They both have dysfunctional adult children whose dysfunction they encourage; 2) My stepmother sets the parameters of the relationship my dad has with us, he allows it, and we go along with it because we're afraid we'll have no relationship with him unless we do; 3) I am sick and tired of sleeping on uncomfortable beds in cramped rooms and my kids sleeping on blow-up mattresses when we visit the family. I want to buy a house in Florida when and if we're able to afford it; 4) The Florida side of my family have no clue about my life.
I'll start with No. 2. We had rented a beach house from a school friend of mine for two nights and invited my dad and stepmother to join us. My stepmother took two hours to get ready to go, packing the entire contents of her refrigerator for seven meals. I gave them the master bedroom and their own bathroom. Everything seemed hunky-dory till we came in for lunch on the second day. My stepmother announced that she had a client making an offer on a foreclosed property she had listed and she HAD to GET BACK that day as soon as possible to fax him something. I assumed she was going on her own. No. She then informed me that my dad had forgotten to bring his diuretics and his feet were swelling. I looked down. They didn't look swollen to me. I asked if they were coming back. No. She might have another showing the following morning. We had lunch. My stepmother twittered on about having palpitations because it had been 18 months since she'd had a closing on a house. I glowered at the two of them. I finished lunch and cleared up the kitchen. My dad disappeared upstairs and came back down five minutes later with all their stuff packed. He loaded up the car, she took a few things out of the refrigerator, and they were gone. He never even came back in to say goodbye. I was spitting mad, but didn't want to ruin the rest of our time there. I decided I'm not inviting them next year if we do the same thing. Yes, I know the real estate market has been difficult in Florida. But she just got on the foreclosure bandwagon that other real estate agents seem to have been on for quite a while.
This woman has been, at best, a thorn in my side for 33 years. I could devote an entire blog to her. She also has been told she has calcification in her breast that is either cancerous or pre-cancerous. So I sound like an insensitive wretch complaining about the beach house. Also, her drug-addicted, alcoholic daughter is back on the scene, and my stepmother, for all her going on about tough love, has fallen back into the same routine of rescuing the ungrateful bitch. Did I mention my stepsister has two children being raised by her brother because she was such a lousy, negligent parent?
Now, let's tackle No. 1. My sister, the one who wouldn't go out and take care of my mother when she was ill but took credit for helping her because she sent one son (whose way was paid and to whom my mother gave $250) and she sends her vitamins, seems to be on the phone with my stepmother every day. My stepmother emails her for information to pass on to her errant daughter. My sister, when I met up with her, went on about how my stepmother was two-faced and she doesn't trust her. Yet when I saw them together, as they carried on a conversation I was not included in, my sister acted like she was my stepmother's best friend. So who is being two-faced? She criticized my stepmother for bailing out my stepsister all the time. Yet who is supporting all four of her adult children, none of whom work?
As for No.4, the proof of the pudding was when we met up with my sister, one of her sons, and her latest grandchild. We met in a mall and ate lunch. My sister had asked me to ask my dad to come along. My dad wasn't going to come because he disapproves of that particular son for not working and fathering a child out of wedlock. We had quite an altercation because I can't see why he disapproves so strongly of this son when we have others just as bad or worse in the family. It's the out-of-wedlock that bothers him most apparently. He went on about how responsible the woman my nephew got pregnant is. So responsible she got herself pregnant when she wasn't married, I replied. That shut him up. Anyway, he talked with the Lord and decided he was no one to judge others (Uh, duh!)
Back to lunch. We ate. My nephew regaled my kids with stories of how he got himself and his son ejected from Toys R Us five times (that's something to brag about?). The bill came. No one made a move for it. Not my sister. Not my dad. Finally, I did. OK, they're in bad financial straits. But we're not exactly rolling in it. We paid the bill for all of us. My sister made a very weak attempt to pay her share. My dad said nothing. OK, we're staying and eating at his house. We'd planned to take him and my stepmother out when we were staying on the beach, but they scuppered those plans. Instead, we took ourselves out.
Perhaps the worst crime my dad and stepmother committed was to make my kids feel less than welcome and to show their obvious favoritism toward my stepbrother's and stepsister's kids. I was stewing about it when my dad brought the subject up. He asked if there was any way he was deficient in his relationship with us. Well, I'd still be there if I was completely honest. But I did say he'd made my son feel bad by ignoring him when the stepgrandkids were around. My dad was shocked and went and apologized to my son, who then got mad at me for bringing it up. But I felt I had to. If I hadn't, I'd have kept that poison inside of me and spread it to my kids (which I've already done a bit of).
It occurred to me that having us stay for 10 days was maybe a bit much for them (though my stepmother is not above telling me we can't stay, as she has in the past). And so we decided No. 3, if we can swing it one day, would be a sensible option.
So I felt a lot of anger and hurt this visit. But when I explored those feelings, I discovered underlying them are disappointment and sadness. I would like to be closer to everyone in my family but the extent of their self-involvement disappoints me and that saddens me. There is no one in my family I would turn to in times of need. Someone else will always be more dysfunctional, more in need.
So it was, so it is, so it will ever be.
But enough of the whining. How was my trip? Well, I am pleased to report that my stepfather has made an amazing turnaround. He can not only dress himself, but he gets out of chairs more easily than my mother, no longer uses a cane to get around, and is talking of driving the car again. Levadopa is a miracle drug. Will it last? If he has PSP (progressive supranuclear palsy), most likely not. If he has Parkinson's, the prognosis is more positive. My mother has let herself go a bit. No, a lot. Her twin sister, while weighing 20-30 pounds more, looks much better. She colors her hair, gets it permed, and her face is unlined. My mother's hair, on the other hand, is a wiry, gray mess. Her face, while not overly wrinkled, shows the stress of the past few years of looking after my stepfather. Not that I told her this.
While in Wyoming we took a road trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota. What a beautiful place! The roads were clogged with middle-aged and older motorcyclists on their way to Sturgis, the Mecca for bikers. There's a certain style that goes with riding a motorcycle -- call it biker chic. The men for the most part had to have facial hair, though it was mostly gray or white. The women wore form-fitting tops (and the forms weren't very fit) and shorts or jeans. Both sexes wore bandanas of some form. The motorcycles were mostly of the Harley Hog variety. We saw one group stopped by the side of the road. The men rode their bikes. The women followed in their cars. Quite sensible, I think. I saw very few wearing helmets or protective clothing. Not that those make a difference if a semi-truck decides to make an illegal turn and takes them out in the process.
But back to the Black Hills. We went to Mount Rushmore. Wish I could have stayed longer but we had Crazy Horse to see next. And what a contrast. Mount Rushmore took 14 years to complete. After 50 years, Crazy Horse's head is complete. It cost $10 to park at Mount Rushmore and admission was free. It cost $27 to park at the Crazy Horse monument. Then they want a further $10 for the bus up to the monument. We were fuming about the ripoff cost as we went into the guest center. I fumed a bit more while looking at the pictures of the "progress" of the monument. Then I started to explore the center and realized that the Crazy Horse monument has been mismarketed. It is much, much more than a monument of Crazy Horse. It is a monument to the Native Peoples of North America. Again, we didn't have enough time so I didn't get round the entire center. But in the car I looked at the brochure and saw that this is quite an ambitious undertaking, with plans for a university on the grounds. But it appears disorganized. They should concentrate on finishing the monument before starting up another phase of the project. They need to market it differently and put up a sign advertising the cost of getting in so people don't feel so ripped off when they get there. The Crazy Horse monument isn't a national park and doesn't get national funds as Mount Rushmore does. It is reliant on donations. But why can't they get some of the money going into the casinos on the reservations?
We also toodled round Custer State Park (it was an action-packed day). We took the wildlife loop and felt ripped off again because all we saw were white-tailed deer. Then, on our way out, the traffic was stopped. We peered out the window to see why. A herd of buffalo were crossing the road was why. They came straight past the cars with no cares or worries. It was truly an amazing sight. I've been to Yellowstone many a time and never saw anything as incredible as this. I leaned out my window taking pictures of these magnificent creatures till one came towards me. I rolled that window up pronto. The human response to this was also amazing. One fellow in his giant SUV decided he'd seen enough and wanted to leave so he flashed his lights and tooted his horn at the buffalo in his way, as if that would make them move. It didn't, but one did decide to leave some buffalo chips in front of his car. Another woman, also impatient to move, actually bumped a buffalo with her car. Eventually, the road cleared and we drove on. As we came past cars parked on the other side of the road, we heard one biker say loudly about us, "They don't care; they're not on vacation." Ah, ignorance!
We decided to go back next year to the Black Hills. There's so much more to see. And my mother enjoyed getting away for a few days. I also decided to organize a family reunion of my mother's side next year (I'd better get on it too). I told my aunt about it and I think she'll be taking over. That's fine by me. I would like to see family I haven't seen in years, and my kids expressed an interest in meeting up with more of the American side.
Now for the Florida ordeal. OK, it wasn't that bad, but it was close. Why? Because of the family in Florida. The Wyoming part of the trip is all about hiking and playing tennis and bonding with the kids. The Florida part is all about theme parks, the beach and endless streams of dysfunctional family.
I came to a few conclusions: 1) My sister and stepmother have more in common than meets the eye. They both have dysfunctional adult children whose dysfunction they encourage; 2) My stepmother sets the parameters of the relationship my dad has with us, he allows it, and we go along with it because we're afraid we'll have no relationship with him unless we do; 3) I am sick and tired of sleeping on uncomfortable beds in cramped rooms and my kids sleeping on blow-up mattresses when we visit the family. I want to buy a house in Florida when and if we're able to afford it; 4) The Florida side of my family have no clue about my life.
I'll start with No. 2. We had rented a beach house from a school friend of mine for two nights and invited my dad and stepmother to join us. My stepmother took two hours to get ready to go, packing the entire contents of her refrigerator for seven meals. I gave them the master bedroom and their own bathroom. Everything seemed hunky-dory till we came in for lunch on the second day. My stepmother announced that she had a client making an offer on a foreclosed property she had listed and she HAD to GET BACK that day as soon as possible to fax him something. I assumed she was going on her own. No. She then informed me that my dad had forgotten to bring his diuretics and his feet were swelling. I looked down. They didn't look swollen to me. I asked if they were coming back. No. She might have another showing the following morning. We had lunch. My stepmother twittered on about having palpitations because it had been 18 months since she'd had a closing on a house. I glowered at the two of them. I finished lunch and cleared up the kitchen. My dad disappeared upstairs and came back down five minutes later with all their stuff packed. He loaded up the car, she took a few things out of the refrigerator, and they were gone. He never even came back in to say goodbye. I was spitting mad, but didn't want to ruin the rest of our time there. I decided I'm not inviting them next year if we do the same thing. Yes, I know the real estate market has been difficult in Florida. But she just got on the foreclosure bandwagon that other real estate agents seem to have been on for quite a while.
This woman has been, at best, a thorn in my side for 33 years. I could devote an entire blog to her. She also has been told she has calcification in her breast that is either cancerous or pre-cancerous. So I sound like an insensitive wretch complaining about the beach house. Also, her drug-addicted, alcoholic daughter is back on the scene, and my stepmother, for all her going on about tough love, has fallen back into the same routine of rescuing the ungrateful bitch. Did I mention my stepsister has two children being raised by her brother because she was such a lousy, negligent parent?
Now, let's tackle No. 1. My sister, the one who wouldn't go out and take care of my mother when she was ill but took credit for helping her because she sent one son (whose way was paid and to whom my mother gave $250) and she sends her vitamins, seems to be on the phone with my stepmother every day. My stepmother emails her for information to pass on to her errant daughter. My sister, when I met up with her, went on about how my stepmother was two-faced and she doesn't trust her. Yet when I saw them together, as they carried on a conversation I was not included in, my sister acted like she was my stepmother's best friend. So who is being two-faced? She criticized my stepmother for bailing out my stepsister all the time. Yet who is supporting all four of her adult children, none of whom work?
As for No.4, the proof of the pudding was when we met up with my sister, one of her sons, and her latest grandchild. We met in a mall and ate lunch. My sister had asked me to ask my dad to come along. My dad wasn't going to come because he disapproves of that particular son for not working and fathering a child out of wedlock. We had quite an altercation because I can't see why he disapproves so strongly of this son when we have others just as bad or worse in the family. It's the out-of-wedlock that bothers him most apparently. He went on about how responsible the woman my nephew got pregnant is. So responsible she got herself pregnant when she wasn't married, I replied. That shut him up. Anyway, he talked with the Lord and decided he was no one to judge others (Uh, duh!)
Back to lunch. We ate. My nephew regaled my kids with stories of how he got himself and his son ejected from Toys R Us five times (that's something to brag about?). The bill came. No one made a move for it. Not my sister. Not my dad. Finally, I did. OK, they're in bad financial straits. But we're not exactly rolling in it. We paid the bill for all of us. My sister made a very weak attempt to pay her share. My dad said nothing. OK, we're staying and eating at his house. We'd planned to take him and my stepmother out when we were staying on the beach, but they scuppered those plans. Instead, we took ourselves out.
Perhaps the worst crime my dad and stepmother committed was to make my kids feel less than welcome and to show their obvious favoritism toward my stepbrother's and stepsister's kids. I was stewing about it when my dad brought the subject up. He asked if there was any way he was deficient in his relationship with us. Well, I'd still be there if I was completely honest. But I did say he'd made my son feel bad by ignoring him when the stepgrandkids were around. My dad was shocked and went and apologized to my son, who then got mad at me for bringing it up. But I felt I had to. If I hadn't, I'd have kept that poison inside of me and spread it to my kids (which I've already done a bit of).
It occurred to me that having us stay for 10 days was maybe a bit much for them (though my stepmother is not above telling me we can't stay, as she has in the past). And so we decided No. 3, if we can swing it one day, would be a sensible option.
So I felt a lot of anger and hurt this visit. But when I explored those feelings, I discovered underlying them are disappointment and sadness. I would like to be closer to everyone in my family but the extent of their self-involvement disappoints me and that saddens me. There is no one in my family I would turn to in times of need. Someone else will always be more dysfunctional, more in need.
So it was, so it is, so it will ever be.
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
And The Winner Is
Do you see the two new additions on the left? My dear blogmates mean mom and MOB gave them to me. I am so chuffed (British word) to be thought of by these fantastic bloggers. I would like to say to any of you who reads this blog that because you read this blog you deserve one of these awards. Have a look and choose what you want. You deserve it.
We're off on Saturday to that great big country across the pond. As I did in April by myself, we will fly first to Newark, then on to Salt Lake City where we'll spend the night. Then we will get up and drive 5 hours to my mother's in Wyoming. While there we plan to take a side trip to see Mount Rushmore. I've never been to South Dakota so look forward to notching up another state. My mother will be coming with us and is so excited about getting away, even if it's only to South Dakota for three days.
Then we'll fly to Tampa, where we'll hit a few theme parks, see friends and family and GO TO THE BEACH. Supposedly, we're meeting up with friends from here that live less than a mile away yet never see. I hope we see them because we rearranged our holiday for them, which meant paying extra.
I'm looking forward to switching off from the stresses of my life in the UK (though there will be equal stresses in the USA between my mother and stepfather and my sister).
I'll be looking out for more money-saving trends too. I probably won't have a chance to post before then so adios for now.
We're off on Saturday to that great big country across the pond. As I did in April by myself, we will fly first to Newark, then on to Salt Lake City where we'll spend the night. Then we will get up and drive 5 hours to my mother's in Wyoming. While there we plan to take a side trip to see Mount Rushmore. I've never been to South Dakota so look forward to notching up another state. My mother will be coming with us and is so excited about getting away, even if it's only to South Dakota for three days.
Then we'll fly to Tampa, where we'll hit a few theme parks, see friends and family and GO TO THE BEACH. Supposedly, we're meeting up with friends from here that live less than a mile away yet never see. I hope we see them because we rearranged our holiday for them, which meant paying extra.
I'm looking forward to switching off from the stresses of my life in the UK (though there will be equal stresses in the USA between my mother and stepfather and my sister).
I'll be looking out for more money-saving trends too. I probably won't have a chance to post before then so adios for now.
Thursday, 17 July 2008
Make Do And Mend
Hubby and I have been thinking about what will thrive and/or make a comeback during these difficult economic times. Here's our list, such as it is:
1. Walking/cycling. With the cost of petrol going up and up, more and more people will dig out their walking shoes or dusty bikes.
2. Public transport. See above (though, of course, this is subject to trains actually working).
3. Libraries. Why buy a book or newspaper when you can get one free at the library?
4. Vegetable gardens. Everyone's going to be digging for Britain again.
5. Local shops (if they still exist). You can get your walking in and support your local shops.
6. Charity shops: Why buy new when you can get secondhand? (And walk there too).
7. Dinner parties: Wine is terribly priced in restaurants. You can feed six of your friends for the price of two bottles of wine probably (and have more wine as well). (Don't forget to walk to your local shops for the ingredients, apart from those you've grown yourself).
8. Seeds: Why spend £8 on one plant when for £2 you can get a load of seeds? And you can sell or give away your spare plants.
9. Evenings in watching DVDs (and you can walk to the DVD shop).
10. Appreciation for the truly good things in life. With more and more people losing their jobs every day, this will force the workaholics to sit back and take a good, long look at what they value. Consumerism will, if not completely die, be cut back quite a bit. Couples will have more time for each other. Families will have more time for each other. Being unemployed is no fun, but there can be benefits.
What trends are you noticing?
1. Walking/cycling. With the cost of petrol going up and up, more and more people will dig out their walking shoes or dusty bikes.
2. Public transport. See above (though, of course, this is subject to trains actually working).
3. Libraries. Why buy a book or newspaper when you can get one free at the library?
4. Vegetable gardens. Everyone's going to be digging for Britain again.
5. Local shops (if they still exist). You can get your walking in and support your local shops.
6. Charity shops: Why buy new when you can get secondhand? (And walk there too).
7. Dinner parties: Wine is terribly priced in restaurants. You can feed six of your friends for the price of two bottles of wine probably (and have more wine as well). (Don't forget to walk to your local shops for the ingredients, apart from those you've grown yourself).
8. Seeds: Why spend £8 on one plant when for £2 you can get a load of seeds? And you can sell or give away your spare plants.
9. Evenings in watching DVDs (and you can walk to the DVD shop).
10. Appreciation for the truly good things in life. With more and more people losing their jobs every day, this will force the workaholics to sit back and take a good, long look at what they value. Consumerism will, if not completely die, be cut back quite a bit. Couples will have more time for each other. Families will have more time for each other. Being unemployed is no fun, but there can be benefits.
What trends are you noticing?
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Doh! It was Roosevelt who said it.
As doglover so wisely pointed out, I misattributed the fear quote to Churchill in my last post. In my heart I knew it was Franklin Delano Roosevelt, but in my mind, I heard Churchill's voice say it. It was from Roosevelt's 1933 Inaugural address. Here is an excerpt:
I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days.
Could we have had two better leaders -- Churchill and Roosevelt -- during that time? Certainly in the U.S., Roosevelt turned things around. My dad's parents, on the dole and desperately poor, found employment thanks to Roosevelt. He had his faults, dragging his heels on entering WWII among them, but he did so much for our country too. McCain and Obama would do well to try to emulate Roosevelt (although I recall the Clintons also bringing up his memory).
I can't read the papers anymore without seeing the depressing headlines about the wretched state of the economy. But we're not at the breaking point yet.
Today the weather matches the grey uncertainty of the economy. Raindrops splatter against the windowpanes. The garden looks forlorn, bereft of sunshine. It matches my mood. I worry endlessly about hubby not finding a job. Not just because of the change of lifestyle. I haven't written about my mother for a while. The drama has died down, but the prognosis is not good. My stepfather has been diagnosed with something called progressive supra nuclear palsy. Dudley Moore died of it. Right now my stepfather is responding to levadopa, a Parkinson's drug. But that will be shortlived. Right now he is able to dress himself, get in and out of bed, make his own breakfast. This is the calm before the storm. By next year I expect he will be back in a nursing home. Or even dead.
And what of my mother? The house she lives in is in the names of my stepfather and his two daughters. He built that house with his own hands. I have no quarrel with them wanting to keep it in the family. But what about my mother? Will the daughters tip her out when their father has died? I used to think they wouldn't, but now I'm not so sure. In April I thought perhaps once hubby had found new employment we could purchase something for my mother in Florida, near my sister but not with her. That isn't an option right now.
So hubby's unemployment affects more than just us. I know we are not the first -- or the last -- family to endure this. I know by the end of this period of our lives we will be stronger. And I might even be an expert in shelf stacking by then.
I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days.
Could we have had two better leaders -- Churchill and Roosevelt -- during that time? Certainly in the U.S., Roosevelt turned things around. My dad's parents, on the dole and desperately poor, found employment thanks to Roosevelt. He had his faults, dragging his heels on entering WWII among them, but he did so much for our country too. McCain and Obama would do well to try to emulate Roosevelt (although I recall the Clintons also bringing up his memory).
I can't read the papers anymore without seeing the depressing headlines about the wretched state of the economy. But we're not at the breaking point yet.
Today the weather matches the grey uncertainty of the economy. Raindrops splatter against the windowpanes. The garden looks forlorn, bereft of sunshine. It matches my mood. I worry endlessly about hubby not finding a job. Not just because of the change of lifestyle. I haven't written about my mother for a while. The drama has died down, but the prognosis is not good. My stepfather has been diagnosed with something called progressive supra nuclear palsy. Dudley Moore died of it. Right now my stepfather is responding to levadopa, a Parkinson's drug. But that will be shortlived. Right now he is able to dress himself, get in and out of bed, make his own breakfast. This is the calm before the storm. By next year I expect he will be back in a nursing home. Or even dead.
And what of my mother? The house she lives in is in the names of my stepfather and his two daughters. He built that house with his own hands. I have no quarrel with them wanting to keep it in the family. But what about my mother? Will the daughters tip her out when their father has died? I used to think they wouldn't, but now I'm not so sure. In April I thought perhaps once hubby had found new employment we could purchase something for my mother in Florida, near my sister but not with her. That isn't an option right now.
So hubby's unemployment affects more than just us. I know we are not the first -- or the last -- family to endure this. I know by the end of this period of our lives we will be stronger. And I might even be an expert in shelf stacking by then.
Monday, 7 July 2008
The Fear Factor
We have nothing to fear but fear itself.
That Churchill certainly had a way with words. He managed to calm people down and rally them round while all around them their world was literally being taken apart.
I wish he was around today to keep my spirits up. I haven't posted in a week or so because I'm sort of in a fearful panic. Since hubby didn't get that job, I've gone into worrying overdrive. What if, what if, what if. Yet is my world and life as bad as it seems to me? Or is it bad because it seems bad?
I can tell myself over and over again that others truly have it bad right now. Think of the Zimbabweans. And to complain or even to voice my worries might be an insult to others facing the same or worse. And I don't want to do that.
I have come to the conclusion that I must seek work and have spent a bit of time looking online for jobs. But I haven't worked for 16 years, I am 48 years old, and I have no work history in this country. Those are pretty big obstacles. I will stack supermarket shelves if I have to, but I'm a long way off that. I have concluded that I will have to be creative and lower my standards a bit and think outside the box. Instead of one full-time job, perhaps two or three part-time jobs? Then I worry about the children because I am so used to being the one to have sort them out. But I'm not the only parent at home (though sometimes I think I'm the only useful one).
I must remember Churchill's admonishment most of all. I have allowed my fears to cloud my thinking, to allow me to stay in the same rut. I must conquer them and move on.
That Churchill certainly had a way with words. He managed to calm people down and rally them round while all around them their world was literally being taken apart.
I wish he was around today to keep my spirits up. I haven't posted in a week or so because I'm sort of in a fearful panic. Since hubby didn't get that job, I've gone into worrying overdrive. What if, what if, what if. Yet is my world and life as bad as it seems to me? Or is it bad because it seems bad?
I can tell myself over and over again that others truly have it bad right now. Think of the Zimbabweans. And to complain or even to voice my worries might be an insult to others facing the same or worse. And I don't want to do that.
I have come to the conclusion that I must seek work and have spent a bit of time looking online for jobs. But I haven't worked for 16 years, I am 48 years old, and I have no work history in this country. Those are pretty big obstacles. I will stack supermarket shelves if I have to, but I'm a long way off that. I have concluded that I will have to be creative and lower my standards a bit and think outside the box. Instead of one full-time job, perhaps two or three part-time jobs? Then I worry about the children because I am so used to being the one to have sort them out. But I'm not the only parent at home (though sometimes I think I'm the only useful one).
I must remember Churchill's admonishment most of all. I have allowed my fears to cloud my thinking, to allow me to stay in the same rut. I must conquer them and move on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
