Monthly Archives: July 2012

Rain! Rain! Come to stay, but….

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Rain! We had rain! Do you know how to tell the difference between an optimistic environmentalist and a pessimistic environmentalist? One sees the rain barrel as half full, the other sees it half empty.

Hint: my tomatoes are happy. The pepper plants aren’t so sure; I think there’s a mole tunneling beneath that part of the garden. But back to the rain – we had rain twice in recent history. The first shower only lasted long enough to inconvenience Chuck, and didn’t even top off the rain barrels.

Sing it – I’m grillin’ in the rain, I’m grillin’ in the rain!

The steaks, by the way, were delicious.

The next storm was more substantial. My rain barrels are now half full, and the garden soil is soaked. This storm also brought with us a little entertainment in the form of loud noises. I thought the wind had knocked over my deck table or stolen its umbrella. Nope. Look again, Daisy.

Do you see what I see?

Here, look more closely.

Wow. Just wow.

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Notes to Self: Encore Presentation

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As summer goes on, I develop a Farmers’ Market habit and much, much more. This post originally came up last June. Enjoy!

Note to Self;
Never leave gardening gloves on top of the rain barrel. You’re just asking for them to get soaked. Then again, maybe it’s like a rain dance; put the gloves on the rain barrel, and the rain will come. Try it during the next dry spell.

Note to Self;
Don’t get too excited about the fact that Amigo likes asparagus. Remember when Chuck complained we had it too often? Amigo responded, “I like asparagus; it makes my pee smell funny.” Gah.
Note to Self;
The weekly visit to the Farmers’ Market is uplifting. Make the effort to go no matter what the weather or mood.
Note to Self;
One discouraging experience does not have to make a serious setback. One meltdown is okay; then move on. Remember, depression recovery is more like the tortoise than the hare.
Note to Self;
Now that La Petite is moving out, start planning the conversion of her bedroom to office & guest room. Yes, Amigo’s bean bag chairs may live there for now.
Note to Self;
Now that Chuck has a new car, find a reusable shopping bag and “hide” it in his glove box. Then train him to use it. Snicker. Tee-hee.
Note to Self;
With three word games on the Kindle, hide Kindle from Chuck if you ever want to read on it again!

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Battle Fatigue and Injustice

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There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest. 

~ Elie Wiesel ~

The wild and woolly recall election was over a month ago. The scars are fading, but they’re still visible. I have three meetings on this week’s calendar, all in some way political. I keep plugging away, but some days it just seems pointless.

Why do I bother? Does one person’s effort really matter? The big money sources are working to make sure their own puppet legislators are in power. Those on “my” side keep begging for donations, and I can afford only to give them time. Does volunteerism count for anything in the long run? On June 6, my efforts and energy seemed – oh, I give in, it seemed wasted. Totally wasted.

Then I ran into the above quote from Elie Wiesel.  Holocaust survivor, journalist, writer, teacher, leader in human rights causes, Elie Wiesel’s quote reminds me to keep active. I may not have the money, but I have words and I will make the time. Tonight, messaging workshop at the OFA office. Tomorrow night, City Council. After that, a couple of days off to rest and reconnect with my family.

And then, after that, despite that occasional powerless feeling, I’ll keep protesting injustice and helping others fight the good fight leading to the Tuesday after the first Monday in November.

The Overpass Light Brigade, a creative tactic born in Milwaukee

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To Market, to Market

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Tuo market, to market, to buy – you fill in the blank. I didn’t buy pork, so the original “to buy a fat pig” doesn’t really work.

It was a typical Saturday, mostly. I woke up later than intended and ended up going to the downtown farmers’ market by myself. Chuck had a commitment that he couldn’t miss, so we didn’t go to market together, as is our normal Saturday. I picked up my usual collection of bags and found my way to our parking ramp.

Then I stumbled and twisted an ankle. Ouch. I stepped on it gingerly, determined it was a minor pain, and continued into the marketplace called College Avenue, our town’s equivalent of Main Street.

I bought my usual goodies  quickly, and didn’t dawdle for more. I wanted to get off my feet (and ankle) before overdoing and causing myself trouble.

Of course I took pictures!

Many Pleasures from The Market

A close-up will show what I have planned for later this weekend.

Pickling Cucumbers!

You can see I’ve already made one batch of bread and butter pickles. Last year I made two, and we went through each and every pickle. Yum! Maybe I’ll grind up the ends for relish instead of compost. Maybe.

But first, I settled into the recliner to watch my Milwaukee Brewers play their hearts out at their home field, and rested my silly twisted ankle.

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Out, out, dang bunny!

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Last year I caught a rabbit lounging in my lettuce.

The Compost Critter was at it again this season, too.

Then there was the morning I found another woodchuck under the raspberries.

The last straw  was finding this tiny, adorable little sweetie in my tomato patch. In my tomatoes!

The Backyard Baby Bunny

We found the source of the invasion, the gap in the protective barrier.

See the fallen board? Doesn’t look like much, but —

If you look closely from this angle, you can see a gap big enough for a baby bunny.

Mind the gap!

Chuck played Santa and brought out the hoe, hoe, hoe.

Witness: the GC44, the tool du jour.

He re-dug the trench, replaced the board, and straightened the wire fencing above. The baby bunny stayed hidden behind the rain barrels and watched as we denied it access to the salad bar.

A work of art, the tomato jungle.

For now, at least, the tomato plants are safe. Stay out of my jungle, baby bunny. No matter how much cuteness turns up, I will not share.

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Friends? – Facebook and the Affordable Care Act

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I’d posted, shared, a short graphic about the Affordable Care Act. It contained examples of people who benefit from the law. I usually post items like this on my blog page in Facebook, rather than my personal page, but this one needed to reach a wider audience –  or so I thought.

from DCCC by way of Facebook

An acquaintance from my undergraduate days – dare I call him a friend? – commented “Single Entry Accounting…”

Background: This acquaintance was someone I liked and respected. He was and I’m sure still is a very intelligent and multi-talented man. He fell into the category of people we called book smart, but not people smart. Thirty years ago on our small college campus, he was known as very, very intelligent, but not very wise.

So this slam, and yes it’s a slam, still hurt. It stung more than a little to hear this former friend, now a business owner in the financial field, thought I had posted something misleading. .

I have strong feelings about the Affordable Care Act. Biased? Absolutely, I am. I can go down the posted list and find family members and friends affected in each and every category.

Pre-existing conditions:

  • Congenital blindness
  • Autism
  • Anxiety
  • Depression
  • Asthma
  • Tension headaches
  • Cardiac conditions
  • Let’s not consider being female a pre-existing condition, at least for now.

Retain coverage through parents’ plans:

  • My oldest is 25. She lives independently, and is starting a new job in her field even as you read this. She’s a college graduate and a young woman with a strong work ethic. None of her employers thus far have had health insurance available for her.
  • My youngest is 20. Blind since birth, on the autism spectrum, intelligent, creative, talented, outgoing and friendly. He might qualify for Medical Assistance or he might not. If he doesn’t, he’ll need to remain on my policy until he finds a full time position that offers benefits.

Seniors: I’m not there yet, but my day will come. In the meantime, this affects:

  • mother
  • stepfather
  • mother-in-law
  • father-in-law
  • many extended family, including several with “pre-existing” conditions that need ongoing treatment

Lifetime limits: what if you, your family, or your friends have —

  • cancer
  • pre-cancerous conditions
  • MS
  • heart disease
  • asthma
  • clinical depression
  • vision impairment
  • hearing impairment
  • high blood pressure
  • severe allergies
  • autoimmune diseases
  • Have I left anyone out? Family? Friends? Anyone?

Now that I’ve shared my reasoning and rationale for sharing the graphic in the first place, I’ll address the criticism.

Hey, old “friend,” I know you’re in a different position professionally than I am. I know you’re a successful business leader in the private sector, and you look at taxes from that angle. Since you’re in the financial field, I respect your knowledge of standard accounting practices. When I posted the chart, I made no secret of my bias. I did not claim to share both sides of the issue, including the overall cost of implementing the law. Your comment was an obvious put-down. In fact, you may have hoped that I didn’t know the meaning of the term “single entry accounting” and meant to imply my ignorance.

Old “friend,” I hope you always have the health coverage that your family needs and you never have to worry about being dropped or excluded. If you or your family need care, I hope you have no trouble finding medical specialists and paying their fees. I wish you and yours good health now and as you age. As for the Facebook bit, I don’t plan to unfriend you. The divisiveness in our nation is severe and widespread already, and I’d rather not add more. Indeed, you may have already taken me off your news feed or friends list. If you don’t want to read my updates any more, I’ll understand.

Sincerely, your old college pal, Daisy

In conclusion, a Note to Self: Attend the messaging workshop at the local OFA office. Learn the best ways to make a point. Thicken skin and prepare for more attacks. Don’t stop believing, though. Health care for all is far too important to lose. 

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Math in life as we know it

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Once in a while, something like this catches my eye.

Once in a great while, references to Pi abound. That’s when it’s fun to be a teacher, and especially fun to teach sixth grade math. You see, readers, I was lucky enough to hold virtual class on March 14, 2012. 3-14, of course, is Pi Day.  Get it? 3.14 is the fourteenth day of the third month. Got it now?  3.14 is the number commonly used to represent the proportion we know as Pi. Twenty-two sevenths? Later, class. Later.

Okay, we’ll go on. The same day I saw the above image on Facebook, Jeopardy had an entire category devoted to Pi. I impressed myself by sweeping the category – that is, for you non-Trebekies, I knew all five answers in the column. Impressive, I thought. No comment from the peanut gallery, brother. Shh.

Later that night, I saw yet another math reference on Facebook. My cousin is enrolled in classes on her way to a career change, and she dreads her math classes. As she puts it, “I care more about the prime directive than prime numbers.” At least she’s straightforward with her attitude. Give my Trekkie cousin credit for knowing her mission.

But seriously, folks, knowing a little math is handy. Adding and subtracting decimals – keeping the checkbook balanced. Ratio and Unit Rate – which size package is the best deal? Basic percents – figuring out sales tax or a discount. Calculating a decent tip for the waitstaff? Use your knowledge of percent again. Look at the bill, move the decimal point to find 10%. Find half of that amount (5%, naturally) and add it to the first number (the 10%, remember?) Now you know how much to leave for a 15% tip. If you can’t do the math, trust me, the server can. You will risk under-tipping, which leads to potentially insulting the server, in which case you can never go to that place again. You might risk over-tipping, which raises expectations or makes you look like you’re math incompetent. Really, people, Math matters.

In addition to the above cartoon, I’ve had a lot of fun with the Sunday Comics pages. When a math geek character makes reference to the Fibonacci sequence, I can rattle off “0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8,” and so on until the punch line makes sense. Look it up, friends. Really. It’s worth knowing. 

And when my friends and family are really struggling to figure out the discount or the tax or the tip, I’m reassuring them in a thoroughly verbal linguistic manner.

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Thinking in Broad Terms: The Broad Side

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In my circle of acquaintances, online or In Real Life (IRL), it would be hard to find anyone who doesn’t read or hasn’t heard of The Huffington Post. HuffPo, for short, provides commentary on many current and fascinating topics. HuffPo, however, isn’t the only sheet of value out there on the Interwebs. Since last autumn, a new face is gracing cyberspace: The Broad Side.

Recent Broad Side articles dealt with the Supreme Court decision on the Affordable  Health Care Act, sometimes called Obamacare. Here, have a taste.

A guest commentary by Nancy Gruver states:

“The fact is that healthcare is a product like virtually none other in a capitalist economy. It isn’t governed by rational consumer decision-making. And it never will be.”

Angie Lynch talks about being fortunate enough to have good health coverage and adds:

“Before today, we were one of the lucky ones. From today forward, we are among the millions of U.S. citizens who do not have to worry about being lucky.”

Is Chief Justice Roberts a political mastermind or the destroyer of conservative hope? Find out one opinion here.

And finally, but not the last word I’m sure, one of my favorite pundits, Joanne Bamberger, weighs in here. A few sound bites? Of course I’ll share, with a Daisy reaction, of course.

“According to news reports, Republicans who were in the courtroom as the justices read their opinions had their jaws drop and their eyes rolled back in their heads. They did NOT expect this.” Oh, I wish I could have been there to hear the *thunk* as those jaws hit the floor.

 

“…this is amazing news for families who have been cut off from insurance because of pre-existing conditions, lifetime limits on insurance coverage and who couldn’t come up with out-of-pocket payments for preventative services, like mammograms, that some policies wouldn’t cover.” Yes, readers, Daisy and family resemble this remark. With two disabled family members, a history of depression for one, family history of cancer, and a young one approaching the magic age of 26, this ruling is a relief. 

 

Looks like they need a Plan B (no, not that Plan B!) for attacking the President.  Exactly. I couldn’t say it better. 

 

 The Broad Side: see for yourself. Real women, real opinions.

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I teach, and I pay taxes – a still-timely encore

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This was originally posted in February of 2011 when the wild rumpus in Madison had just begun. I was on medical leave recovering from a severe depression when Gov. Walker’s, er, proposal broke open. The post, unfortunately, is still relevant. The phrase “My Tax Dollars!” is so hurtful when it’s misused, and it’s getting misused daily. 

I teach, and I pay taxes. Or should I say “I pay taxes and I teach”?

Folks who’ve seen the Wisconsin budget drama on CNN or Fox News or CSNBC probably wonder. “Daisy, you’re a teacher! You live in Wisconsin! You’re a progressive thinker and you’re active in politics! Why have you said nothing about the demonstrations? Or the disappearance of the Senate Democrats? Or Governor Walker’s bad hair and desire for make-up any time a camera is near? Never mind that last one.
I haven’t posted yet because it’s so upsetting. Today I’m checking in periodically, but I’m minimizing my TV news time. My news junkie self is not compatible with the depressive self, and I’m in a pretty bad state right now – pun intended.
Instead, I’d like to share a few facts about union history. Consider it a history lesson featuring the American worker.
Early railroad worker unions were primarily insurance providers. The workers could not get standard insurance because their work was considered too hazardous, the workers too risky to insure. From Railroad Labor and its History
The first organization of working women to organize was the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association, a group of young women working in textile mills. For a descriptive piece on the Lowell Mills Girls, look to this piece, an overview of women’s labor rights at the time. From Women and Unions, early efforts
Unions helped outlaw child labor and protect worker safety. The horrible Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire spurred further movements to keep workers safe at work. Work also means outdoor work. Remember Cesar Chavez? The United Farm Workers are glad he took the lead to improve their treatment.
Unions are about people: working people. Unions help regulate working conditions, wages, and employee rights. Benefits in union contracts include paid sick days, working conditions, grievance procedures, opportunities for advancement or changing positions, length of workday, and more. My current contract has 182 pages, single spaced. It’s a complex, thoughtful agreement between the school board and the association that represents the district’s teachers.
Every paycheck I receive has taxes taken out. Yes, I teach. Yes, I pay taxes. Yes, I’m a union member. I’m proud of all three.

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The trees! Save the trees! Or… or… not.

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Observe: one of the trees that our neighbor wants to save. She circulated petitions and called our alderman and forced a review of the situation. Unfortunately, she’s not thinking logically. 

A blustery day in the neighborhood

It’s a big one. The branch cracked and fell due to a wind gust – just a gust of wind on a clear but windy day.

Big tree, big branch.

In conclusion, the trees are lovely, and they’re lived good lives. Saving these trees (and tearing up the roots with the road construction) isn’t a logical decision.

Remaining limb – and proximity to wire

 

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