Thoughts, prayers, moments of silence – and action.

The subject came up during a break in a much unneeded meeting: what’s causing this rash of school shootings? “Social media,” said one teacher. “Video games,” said another. “No, no, it’s the easy access to guns,” said one more. “It’s complicated,” I added, but no one listened. 

Didn’t I just say that? After yet another wasted session of thoughts and prayers and moments of silence? It’s complicated! It’s all of the above! Instead of rewriting, I’ll say it again. 

Who are the next school shooters or mass shooters? How can we recognize them, and how do we stop them?

It’s a complex problem, and stopping the mass shootings that are becoming all too common will require a complex solution.

Activists work to tighten gun laws. They want to outlaw guns like the AR-15, guns with only one purpose: killing. They want to require background checks, thorough background checks, any time a person buys a gun.

Mental health advocates work to help people who might consider carrying out such a shooting. Depression, anxiety, and more can be factors in producing a killer of many.

Not to be forgotten are the National Rifle Association (NRA), those who work to keep gun laws weak and widespread access to weapons strong.

It’s a complex problem. After Sandy Hook, after Columbine, after Parkland, expert and not-so-expert analysts look for red flags, events or ongoing stresses that might have built up the pressure on this individual. After the fact, folks in the know pick through a shooters’ profiles and backgrounds, identifying possible triggers, the proverbial straws that broke the camels’ backs.

It’s a social problem. Was the shooter harassed? Bullied? Excluded and isolated? Did anyone reach out to this person? Did anyone recognize the risk, help this person before the potential for disaster became real?

It’s a medical problem. Mental illness, diagnosed or not, can be a major factor in someone deciding to carry out such a horrific event, taking lives of so many others. Mental health care must be available to all who need it – and mental health coverage must be part of any health plan.

It’s a legal problem, a gun problem. That’s hard for me to say because I know so many responsible gun owners. Hunters, mainly, these friends would never dream of leaving their firearms loaded and accessible to someone – anyone – who might misuse them. That said, no one needs a semi-automatic for hunting game. The AR-15 that’s been in the hands of so many mass shooters doesn’t need to be legal.

It’s an accessibility problem. Felons, domestic abusers, people who have been identified as a danger to others must be prevented from owning guns. License to kill only exists in fiction. In reality, life is precious.

It’s a complex problem, and the solution will not be simple. I wish I had an answer.

Progress – on a lot of fronts

Tomatoes are in their containers.

Computer desk and matching bookshelf and computer are in the guest room/office/La Petite’s former bedroom.

I have plants for the pallet garden.

Laundry is started.

All of these took more effort than we expected.

Tomatoes: I started the tomatoes from seed in March. Not all came up; I was a bit concerned. I did get six Roma plants, four beefsteak, and three large (and very tasty) cherry. Friday I was worried; the tallest tomato seedlings were showing some odd color on their leaves. I wondered if they were under watered – or over watered, for that matter. I came to the conclusion that they needed bigger containers, room to grow. They’re now transplanted to containers near the main raised bed garden – all but the one lone yellow pear tomato plant that’s in a basket between two rhubarb plants.

Computer desk and matching bookshelf took two weekends and time during the week to empty, clean, and move. Darn, those pieces were heavy! They’re all in place now, and everything works. Chuck had a challenge getting the AT&T tower up and running again, and it runs the landline, Internet, and television. He finished Saturday, just in time to pick up Chinese food and bring it home for supper.

Plants for the pallet garden: I have strawberries for the top sections, marigolds for the base, but the Home Depot garden center didn’t have the cabbage or kale I wanted for the large place in the middle. I watered them all, but they’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to get transplanted into the actual pallet.

Laundry. Darn it all, I almost forgot this weekly chore. After I cleaned up outside, collapsed on the couch with my laptop and a bowl of trail mix, I realized that unless I didn’t throw clothes in the washer and dryer, we might not have enough drawers in our drawers as the week goes on.

Laundry isn’t as glamorous or fun as planting the garden, but it has to be done. Now I’m relaxing on the couch next to Chuck, who plans to cook supper tonight. No take-out this time.

Stop Creating Emergencies.

Sometimes I call it “panicking over nothing.” But then I have to remember that whatever’s causing the panic might not be important to me, but it’s important enough to upset someone else.

In the book Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, there’s a chapter that advises the readers not to create their own emergencies. For example, it’s okay to buy cookies from a bakery instead of baking them from scratch. Pick up an already cooked rotisserie chicken instead of prepping and cooking a big meal. It’s not what I’d do every day on normal days, but sometimes it’s wise to step back and avoid creating unnecessary emergencies.

Right now, those emergencies are either kitchen or garden related. The kitchen remodel is coming sooner or later – most likely sooner. We have a lot of clearing and purging and emptying to do before demo day. We had to clear space in the guest room/office so that we could move the computer desk in there, and soon we’ll need to move the computer desk, the shelves on top of it, and the computer itself and all its cords into that room.

Garden! I started tomato seedlings and herb seedlings, and now I need to prep the containers. Yes, that’s right, the tomatoes are going in containers this year. I have the containers, I have the bags of soil, and I’m ready to start making those ready.

In addition to the containers, I have the pallet. It was glorious last year, and I have plans for the pallet garden again. I just haven’t had a moment to pull out the old, dead plants and fill it in with new soil and move it to its new home six feet away from where it is now – you get the picture. I want to do it all, and I want to do it all right now.

So, Daisy, why can’t you get outside and do it all right now? What’s stopping you? Regular readers, friends, and family all know that I’ve been sick lately. It feels like the last three weeks have lasted more like three months. I’ve been spending a lot of time resting, rehydrating, resting, icing or heating a sore back and sore knee, and resting. You get the picture. In between, I’ve visited doctors and pharmacies. Somehow, I managed to teach a few days and grade a lot, and I do mean a lot, of research projects.

It’s when I’m resting that it’s hardest. I might be sitting on the couch with an ice pack on my lower back and a glass of a refreshing beverage by my side, but I’ll be thinking that I really, really want to break up the soil in the main garden plot. It’s common to find me closing my eyes for a bit and then coming back to wakefulness with an Oh, No, I Need To — fill in the blank.

I’ve managed to sidestep cooking emergencies with the help of a crock pot and a well stocked pantry. I even filled the Stamp Out Hunger bag for the Post Office food drive. But as I patted myself on the back for that, I remembered that the spices will need a new, temporary home, along with the taco mix and my favorite sloppy joe mixes.

And then I say Stop. Little by little, all will be well. For now, I’ll rest and recover so I’ll have enough strength to cope when a true emergency comes along. I don’t need to create my own.

ER Observations and Random Thoughts

I wasn’t totally coherent two weeks ago when we went to the ER, but I did notice a few things.

Doctor paused before coming in the room and asked if I’d had influenza yet this season. I answered no, and he grabbed a mask before he came in. One of the first tests they ran was the swab for Influenza A. Fortunately, it came back negative. I don’t hear well to begin with, and if I had to listen to doctors and nurses through masks, I might have given up trying.

Based on that, I’d gather that flu isn’t through in our fair city. If the ER folks are still concerned, I’m glad I finally got my flu shot.

Today, almost two weeks later, I’m dealing with major dehydration – so much it’s causing lower back pain. Kidneys? Maybe. Doc On Call also had me cut back my blood pressure medicine for a few days. It’s a medicine that can also be a diuretic – in other words, can dehydrate. See how much I’ve learned?

Yesterday Nurse On Call said, “Let’s keep you out of the ER this time.” I liked her attitude. The pain level today, along with the weakness and other garbage, came close to sending me right there again. The big difference this time was that Doc On Call saw me yesterday, and I now knew what to do to fight back. Doc On Call was quite thorough with her testing; I hope, hope, hope it’s all covered.

Meanwhile, a dear coworker is dealing with something much worse. Her sister had a rare and oft-fatal complication during labor. Both mother and baby have made it through the first twelve hours; it remains to be seen if they’ll survive, and if so, what the damages might be.

Back pain? That’s nothing. So why am I so near tears?

RIP Bob Dorough

You might not know his name, but you would recognize his voice. If I named one of his hits, you’d be able to name several more.

He set an skater on ice with a song that, despite its simple subject matter, sounded magical and bittersweet.

He reminded the world that zero is a powerful number – superhero powerful.

He sold the world on enriching their language with adverbs.

He taught the legislative process through a first person perspective and a few catchy rhymes.

He modeled a train that hooked up words, and phrases, and clauses.

His name was Bob Dorough. If you haven’t started singing yet (you’re welcome), he was the creative genius behind Schoolhouse Rock.

He was a session player, lyricist, songwriter, and all around talented musician. Dorough was tasked with creating a song based on multiplication facts – eventually, several songs with several sets of multiplication facts. His job was simple: write something memorable for the kids who don’t know their multiplication tables, but can rattle off any song on the radio.

Boomer children heard his three minute tunes in between the pre-cable era Saturday morning cartoons. As the math series proved popular, Dorough branched out with (my favorite) Grammar Rock. America Rock, the American history series that followed, helped many a child comprehend the three ring circus made up of our three branches of government. Hey, he said it first, folks. Three may be a magic number, but Schoolhouse Rock didn’t stop there. Remember Interplanet Janet? She’s a galaxy girl, and she was part of Science Rock.

I use his music in my virtual classes – English Language Arts and Music. I haven’t brought them into the ancient history of middle school social studies, but give me time. I’ll find a way. Schoolhouse Rock songs were written to be entertainment, and also to be memorable. That’s where the teaching value comes from. That, and the idea that and, but, and or will get you pretty far.

No matter why you remember these short animated pieces, it’s certain that you will at least be able to hum a few bars.

In Schoolhouse Rock, Bob Dorough left a legacy that has already lasted through generations, and is destined to last through many more. Any questions? Oh, I forgot to remind you: Mr. Morton is the subject of the sentence, and what the predicate says he does.

Indubitably.

And So It Goes – The Saga of the Lost Lanyard

About a week ago, I lost my ID badge. I put off getting a new one, thinking I’d find it. I coded my key fob to use with the printer/copier. And then I got sick. You see, the last several digits on that ID badge are my pass-code to get into the absence reporting system. I remembered the code Monday morning. By Monday night I was so exhausted I entered the numbers in the wrong order – enough times that the account locked me out. School secretary took care of it for me, thank goodness.

Last night, I figured out how to request my log-in information. Duh! I was quite sick to completely overlook the obvious. I got my info, logged in, and verified that all is well.

And I gave in – I contacted Human Resources today for a new badge.

With my luck, I’ll probably find it tomorrow morning.

Encore – Knowing My Limits, Again

How is it that the more things change, the more they stay the same?  This post aired in April of 2014. Obama was president, and Hillary Clinton was aiming to run in 2016. You all know the end of that story.

By 2014, I’d recovered from a stroke, had a retina reattached, uterus removed, stent placed in a major artery, and aneurysm detected in another major artery. I like to think I was wise enough not to ask the fates, “What else can go wrong?” 

Fast forward to 2018. A few days ago I was diagnosed with (another!) urinary tract infection. The following morning, I was in the ER as the infection had spread into my kidneys. I’m now resting, feeling nervous about getting behind at work, and taking strong, strong antibiotics. 

Four years ago, I set these goals. Today, I reaffirm those goals. I want to turn Wisconsin blue in the fall elections, but I won’t be any good to anyone if I’m too sick to help.

To maintain my physical and mental health, I will NOT:

  • sign online petitions. It’s too easy, and therefore often meaningless to those in power.
  • forward emails that call themselves Memes. It’s a chain letter, people, don’t kid yourselves.

To further maintain my physical and mental health, I WILL:

  • learn about the candidates and become an informed voter
  • vote and encourage my family members to vote, too
  • remind friends and coworkers to vote (even on FB)
  • donate small amounts of money to candidates I support
  • for good vibrations, wear my Team Obama t-shirt from fall 2012
  • blog!
  • keep calm, and garden on. It’s cheaper than therapy, and in the end I’ll have tomatoes.

 

Elections and Money – My Money

I’m hesitant this year. I’m no longer a card-carrying Democrat, although I play one on my blog. I just got tired of the endless phone calls and the never-ending emails, all asking for money.

I didn’t renew Emily’s List, despite my affinity for their philosophies. I was tired of the endless phone calls, the never-ending emails, and (are you with me here?) the snail mails. Emily’s List still uses the occasional flyer with enclosed envelope. In the hopes of making donations easy for the old-fashioned folks, no doubt, they still use the USPS now and then.

I haven’t donated to my favorite Senator, Tammy Baldwin, either – and I know a small donation would go a long way. The Koch Brothers and the other uber-conservative fund raisers have her in their sights – sites? Anyway, she’s a high priority target. She needs money. I haven’t donated – yet.

The State Superintendent of Schools is running for governor. I hope he wins the primary, because he could put education back on track to reverse some of the cursed backwardness that Walker has implemented.

There is one race, however. It’s a local/state race for state senator. The candidate was chair of the local Democratic party. She is a single mom of two who works for the Girl Scout council. And now, all of a sudden, I’m considering putting money behind a candidate. She could be part of the Blue Wave that I’d love to see cover my fair state.

Before I reach for my wallet, however, I need to decide exactly how far I will go. How many phone calls will I answer, and what kinds of emails I will open. And then, and only then, can I put my money where my vote is.

 

To Swap, or Not to Swap?

I had plans. Big, exciting plans. I was going to go to a seed swap and seedling sale on Saturday morning before The Boys (Chuck and Amigo) were even awake. Then the blizzard arrived. And not just any blizzard: the blizzard that broke records, records in snow-is-the-norm Wisconsin.

So I didn’t get to the seed swap and seedling sale. Honestly, it may have been cancelled. So much was closed, so many events cancelled, that I don’t even know if the park or the nature center was plowed. In fact, we were at the meat market watching a chef pick up $500 worth of meat for his restaurant when his wife called him to say the staff couldn’t get in and they were closing.

I wasn’t planning on bringing seeds to swap, if I’m honest with myself. I had been thinking about buying seedlings and nurturing them indoors through the blizzard and the early spring that might happen, maybe, someday. I don’t have many seeds, or at least not unique seeds. Or do I?

I have butternut squash, parsley, and dill, all salvaged last fall. Those are such common seeds that I wouldn’t bother to offer them up as a swap. However, when I found myself in the garage after cleaning and emptying a litter box in the middle of the storm — oh, let me start over without the drama.

Bunny’s litter box needed cleaning, so I walked through the garage to dump the waste/fertilizer on top of the snow in the backyard patch. On my way back through the garage, I grabbed a packet of seeds for sweet banana peppers. As long as I was there, I dug through the empty pots on my planting table to find milkweed. On my way to the milkweed, I realized I had saved more than I’d remembered. I searched through yarrow, chamomile, yellow beans, feverfew, baby’s breath, and (how could I forget?) walking onion bulbs!

The ending of the story is this. I didn’t go to the seed swap and seedling sale – if it even happened. But I did find more seeds that I could start right now – right now! – and nurture under my grow lights until spring really arrives.

Take that, Mother Nature.

Back aches and Legends

About five years ago, Chuck slipped on an icy sidewalk and chipped his elbow. He sent me a picture. Cute, eh?

Two weekends ago, he put his back out while doing our taxes. Yes, taxes. He had to shred a few documents, but the shredder was full, so he pulled out the tray to empty it into the recycling bin. As he did that, he must have twisted awkwardly. Ow! He managed to finish the taxes with the help of a heating pad and ibuprofen.

Two weeks later, he is struggling to clear major amounts of snow from the driveway and sidewalks. He’s not in pain anymore, but he is stiff. I worry about him re-injuring his Tax Break, er Back, while he’s handling the heavy, wet snow.

Chuck’s Tax-related Backache is already legend. The Blizzard of April 2018 may become legend on its own.