NRU super mish mash

Too many of these have been open on my desk top, so some will make it here with minimal to no commentary -- but you will get the sense of what has caught my eye, at least...

This story, hard as it is to get through, is a fascinating look at the inside of an investigation -- both from the perspective of the detectives as well as the victims (though less so here).  It is also the companion piece to This American Life's episode (I haven't listened to it yet).

One of the many and varied jobs I had involved reading death certificates, and it was fascinating. So not hard to see why I would be interested in an article about what you can find in these.

Justice delayed and/or justice denied ... Guatemala's female war victims getting their day in court finally... what will become of Bill?

Uh oh ... P-22 apparently knows how to get into and out of enclosures at the LA Zoo and made a snack out of a koala... and some stupid councilman is suggesting P-22 be relocated.  I am not really the animal rights take priority person, but in this case, P-22 is not in the wrong.  The zoo officials admit as much but let politicians get their hands on this and it will not be good for our roguish, handsome cougar.  I love that guy so much!

In the ridiculousness corner I will put all the naked selfies (please no more, save it for your significant others, the ones you live with not the ones you tweet with - please), I put the ruckus over a Vanity Fair cover.  Really?! You know Donald Trump is about to become the GOP presidential candidate, and it is large measure because you are paying attention to this shit.

To commemorate her life (?), someone drug up an old piece Harper Lee wrote on love and published in Vogue in the 60s.  Here it is for you with love (of course).  If you need more love, here is something from the NYTimes (that is your beware it will be long message) about what women get from friends that they don't get from significant others...lastly, on the issue of love, a new series set in LA titled LOVE.

The rest still open on my desktop will just have to wait til next week... cover letters and resume edits and and and

Poetry Thursday

I am digging 

the dirt to find 

a way to the sea, 

I see how 

the water of soul 

is imprisoned 

in the vortex 

of this body. 

It's your road, 

and yours alone. 

Others

may walk it

with you, 

but no one 

can walk it 

for you.

 - Rumi

making pie out of limes...

While watering the plants last week (yes, before it started raining), I found several of these cute Mexican limes.

I guess I should call them dwarf limes.

Regardless, they are sweet and cute. And there were about five more inside the house.

What to do?

Make key lime, make that Mexican lime, pie! 

I almost forgot to take a picture of it. 

Only a few pieces missing in this picture. 

Only one piece left in real life.



Oh ... plus lovely house guest made the crust -- a unique creation of meyer lemon cookie and (triple) ginger snap cookie crust.

DELICIOUS!

NRU the unexplained...

Don't ask where these came from ... I have been opening posts from fb again.  Not always the safest choice, but I enjoyed these.

This pieces is about near death experiences... and claims to relate to the oldest reported event.  Hard to gauge if this is really the earliest in the world, just in this person's experience.  Still interesting... and TNT what happened to that series I was watching?

Witches and women ... what is the deal? This piece tries to explain, if not untangle, the was history weaves women and witches...as it reviews the movie, The Witch.

How Catherine de Medici Made Gloves Laced with Poison Fashionable -- um, does this headline even need commentary??

Ok... my favorite author is doing research on Dorset and stumbled on this, plenty of unexplained goodness going on there.

Scenes

from barrel tasting weekend...  these caught my eye, don't ask why...

I have been too busy drinking wine and hanging out with my friend to even get a NRU up... stay tuned.

Gifts from the universe

Tea time .... and my tea bag came with a little gift.

         
it was a bit of wisdom, or a reminder:

 
INDEED!

On that note, I am headed to barrel tasting in Sonoma county.  Only time will tell if I get wet or feel the rain! ;)

Poetry Thursday

Sadness is 

but a wall 

between 

two gardens. 

-Kahlil Gibran

Man v Nature

I have been wanting to take some pictures where humankind and plant life intersect, sometimes people want plants to grow in a particular way, or in a certain area, and sometimes plants just don't care. Sometimes people win, too, but not today:

Pancakes!

why can't I take a focused picture? this is just done...

some raspberry jam for sweetness

I woke one day earlier this week thinking about what to make for breakfast.





I really wanted french toast but had no bread in the house. [It was a theoretically well-laid plan to keep me from carb loading for no good reason.]  

What could I possibly need in order to make pancakes?

in all their glory, a little blurry.

I look it up on my phone, Mark Bittman's recipe on the New York Times.

Flour, milk, baking powder, a bit of salt and sugar and some butter (optional).

Surely I had what I needed in the house.

Alas, there was barely enough milk for my coffee, so off to the store I went. Bought some bread, too, for good measure, and then girl scout cookies, too.

Oops... what happened to that well-laid plan??

pacing myself..

I used regular flour the first day, and the second day, I realized I could make these a healthier choice with whole wheat flour.

I used TJ's fancy berry medley with a little hot water to make a little sauce. 

Also added in a bit of raspberry jam for sweetness.  Yes, count those fibers ... whole wheat flour, berries... at least 15 g of fiber!

Super delicious... who knows what will happen next with the flour ... oat bran?

Why did I ever buy pancake mix??

Oh, and yes, I had thin mints for breakfast dessert... oops!

NRU The Kitchen Sink

The usual suspects
on homelessness and tone deafness:
Los Angeles, like San Francisco now and New York before it, is waging an unneeded and cruel war on the homeless (again).  Here is the latest missive on their tactics.  I can barely stomach to read them, but it is important as citizens to keep an eye on the policies we unleash on the least protected, most vulnerable in our societies.  I was so sad to see that piece after I had opened this one to read and found this other one to read.  In the first short piece, there is not just empathy, and that power of connecting with source energy of others, but hope.  Hope that simple gestures of respect and honor can help people to regain and reclaim their humanity.  What a gift!  And in the second, which I realized after I opened, I had already read and probably shared last month, is another way for people with significant resources and skill to connect with those in need.  Hope, again, all dashed when you see the city taking away the pieces of dignity so lovingly and with empathy bestowed on those without homes.  Ugh.  Utterly heartbreaking.

political corner:
During a contentious political season such as this, it is incumbent on citizens to become knowledgeable about the issues being discussed by candidates. Therefore as the GOP candidates continue to rail against immigrants, particularly those undocumented, these are some facts that need to be investigated and weighed against the policies espoused by these candidates:
"'Undocumented immigrants, like everyone else in the United States, pay sales taxes. And they also pay property taxes—even if they rent. Plus, as ITEP points out, “the best evidence suggests that at least 50 percent of undocumented immigrant households currently file income tax returns using Individual Tax Identification Numbers (ITINs), and many who do not file income tax returns still have taxes deducted from their paychecks.' In sum, according to ITEP, 'undocumented immigrants living in the United States pay billions of dollars each year in state and local taxes. Further, these tax contributions would increase significantly if all undocumented immigrants currently living in the United States were granted a pathway to citizenship as part of a comprehensive immigration reform.'"

I searched in vain for "good" news or even "silver lining" news -- maybe it is just me and I am feeling gloomy, or maybe it is all bad news, I don't know.  But in lieu of good or not so bad news, instead, I am going to give you travel porn.  You are welcome.  If you clicked and didn't see the bodies you expected on the beach, sorry, you must not have met me.  You are lucky it wasn't the ten best cemeteries to travel to in the world, that is my ultimate travel porn.

Non-Mainstream Media
I am not always sure why we need outlets like Medium of TheMighty.  Aren’t there already myriad ways for people to publish their writings? Then, you read something like this.  And the need for an alternative media source that compiles/publishes “the other side” of stories becomes readily apparent. When I wrote I am not always sure why we need Medium it was not meant to imply that what they offer is not of substance, useful and often compelling.  It is just that I am not always sure why these voices are not present in our mainstream media.  This article itself is demonstrative proof of the need for *alternative* outlets.  I cringe when I write that … our media should always contain a variety of voices, viewpoints and opinions.  These are the days I am glad we have the internet.

This is a letter a mother writes to herself on the day she receives the official diagnosis her son is autistic.  I won’t belabor the point.  This kind of *reporting* is not full of references to clinical studies or long treatises on the history of treatments or government regulations or school level interventions.  This is the kind of real deal information that mothers and fathers who are worried about their children need to know.  Thank you to the internet, again, for providing the means to disseminate this info.  Oh, and, of course, thank you to the parents who are willing to share of themselves.  Your ability to be vulnerable and strong, open and fierce, loving and disciplined is greatly appreciated.

NRU Education, again, I can't help myself!

Every day, I say, I won't read pieces on education.  Sometimes I use my online retail therapy approach for poor people: put items in cart, close browser window before buying (sometimes I go all the way through to the cart for fun).  In this instance, open articles I want to read, leave them open in browser until I can stand to close the tab.

These stayed open to long and I read them, oops..

Stumbled upon this piece on resiliency, so interesting ... and deserving of more research.  My research feelers go crazy for this stuff.  I need to figure out how to get my research on without it feeling like phantom limb pain.

I found someone on fb that seems to specialize in occupational therapy aimed at children/youth/adults with developmental disabilities including autism and adhd [I will not go down the rabbit hole of how I feel about adhd diagnoses or diagnoses in general].  I have been gorging on the articles he posts.  Some I will store here for future reference, some I have already closed.  I am brewing, stewing, considering potential new careers (more on this soon or later, why make promises I can't keep, might not keep), and these articles are providing fodder for lingering thought.

Not sure if this is really education, it is in the sense of the word educacion in Spanish it is.  How do we talk to our kids about race? Is there one way to do it?? Here is one fairly facile version.  The reality is that talking about difference, in general, is more complicated ... and changes with the age(s) of your child.  For sure, it is important to engage as often as necessary and appropriate and to "normalize" these kinds of conversations so your kids will know it is alright to come to you with questions, quandaries and uncertainty.

These are the ones that I really wanted to read, but decided it would be too much heart ache ... so, without any editorial remarks:
Teaching not for Introverts (subtitle: why introvert teachers are burning out)
LAUSD's Miracle ... 
Here's one about a lawsuit regarding special ed in Pasadena, I may just read this someday, but right now it hits a little too close to home.
Apparently the charter school miracle is getting exposed.  Even though I predicted this ... I still can't bring myself to read it just now.

Just haven't gotten to these but I will read them, soon:  Washington Posts' What Parents and teachers don't know but need to understand about ADHD, part 1 and part 2.

[It the links don't die, I guess I can come back and read them if I get over my own burnout.]

Cita de jueves

From the spot where we scattered my sister's ashes...

La memoria del corazon

elimina los malos recuerdos

y magnifica los buenos,

y gracias a ese artificio,

logramos sobrellevar el pasado.

 ~Gabriel Garcia Marquez 

El amor en los tiempos de colera

Right Now!

Knee deep in resume hell... thirty minutes to cattle call with the local school district... off to finish that resume, print it and figure out how to look presentable.

...

Don’t run away from grief, O soul.
Look for the remedy inside the pain
Because the rose came from the thorn
And the ruby came from a stone.
~Rumi

I have been weepy lately. 

I struggle to imagine in a few short months it will be three years since we lost my sister (and 3 years and 7 months since we lost my brother).

The pain is still so fresh.

I ran away from grief so much for the past few years.  Maybe that is why it feels like yesterday.

Sometimes it feels like now.

I wake from dreams (nightmares really) in the hospital, unable to do anything to change the situation.

Really the dreamscapes are not in the hospital, but every other conceivable situation where you are watching the accident happen -- sometimes over and over -- unable to do anything to change the outcome. 

I wake exhausted as if I had not slept.  I feel like I have been through a grueling workout -- uphill both ways, shall we say.

And I weep.  The tears pouring out because I know that there is no way to stop them, and, indeed no reason to.

And there are waking dreams, too, where I am lead back to other hurts and losses that haven't been fully processed in order to release them.

I wish I could say weeping makes me feel better, that it was some kind of release or catharsis.

But it is purely an expression of grief.  I grieve all the days I will not have with them.  I grieve the loss of the me that only they knew, that they took with them to their graves.

I grieve for the adult relationship we will never have.

I grieve for the tears in the fabric of our lives that their deaths rented.

I shudder when I remember they will not see their children grow, that they will give no advice, not see their grandchildren born. 

I sometimes feel I will break under the pressure their absence heaves on my shoulders.

I cannot be them; I cannot do their bidding; I cannot substitute or compensate.  In fact, how often have I felt that the thought of me being the one left to my parents or my younger siblings has caused them (and me) more grief?

I can only be me -- and right now I am weepy.

I want so desperately to be on the other side of grief, if there is one.  I am not always convinced that it is possible.

But like the squeegee hunt, with grief, there is only one way -- through it.

As hard as it is, I am grateful to have finally allowed myself to be open enough to feel this grief.  Grateful for friends who encourage me and hold me in their thoughts, willing me the strength to do this.  Grateful to the universe for holding this spot for me until I was ready to jump in it.

NRU more mishmash

This one is old, from 2013, but it just popped up, somehow, on fb and I adored it.  So, I am sharing. It is the story of a couple who collected art on their civil servant pay for 40 or so years.  Maybe longer.  I am not sure what part of the story I love more:  that they were frugal but able to spend on what they loved; or that they became so intimate with the art community in part because of their pure love of art.  This is a love story on many levels.

These articles are burning a hole in my browser, but I cannot actually bear to read them.  I keep imagining I will have such a good day that reading sad, disturbing stories won't bother me.  And what counts as sad and disturbing one day can be just fine another day, so don't worry if the stories above and below seem exactly the same sadness and disturbing ...  without editorial remarks I leave them here, you may read and report.  I may get the courage to read if the links don't die:

Why the Deaths of Latinos at the Hands of the Police Haven't Drawn as much Attention ... and what would a day without Latinos look like (redux and WI addition, who knew?!). 

So many political articles, what with the crazies running for president and the justice from hell dying ... these are not necessarily the two best articles, but they are the ones that were the last open in my browser. 

For some international flare on the political scene, I offer you an article about Bolivia's president and his "love scandal." I guess it's good to know that we are not the only ones talking about what is not important.  It is far more pressing for the Bolivian people to talk about what it would mean to lift restrictions on a fourth term.  I don't know what is right for them, as a people or a country, perhaps pretend democracy is better than real democracy (who has that anyway?!) at this time.  But I am pretty sure that this scandal is not what matters.  And as to whether or not he is handling the "truth" and his affair in a particularly good or bad way, well that has nothing to do with whether or not the people of Bolivia should sanction dictatorship with electoral reforms and elections in general.

stream of consciousness

Sometimes, technology doesn't like me ... even when Mercury is not in retrograde. 

But, right now, Blogger likes me ok, so I am going to keep writing here while I wait for LinkedIn to stop losing its damn mind.


Yesterday, I walked around the lake.
I usually walk the lake once a week -- whenever I am in a mile deficit because it gets me almost 5 miles. 

This week I walked the lake at least twice.

Usually, I walk with someone, so I am noticing what is going on, but also usually having a long, involved (or several) three to four mile lasting talks.

Yesterday, I should have known it was going to be different when I walked by the young woman on the phone. 

I wish I could remember exactly what she was saying, something about I am not saying you are a bitch, but you are wasting my time making me talk to you like you are a bitch.

It was evocative, in its way, and I was trying to memorize the two lines so I could write it down.  But I was late to meet my walking partner.

Little did I know that our first encounter on the lake would be our neighborhood flasher (walking partner does not like me dubbing him that as he might not be moving into our neighborhood). [Hereafter known as NF].

My friend was waving wildly, even though she hadn't seen me when I was waving at her from across the street.

Turns out she had been scrutinizing NF -- she had seen him once before, downtown with his goods hanging out of his pants. 

When she noted NF, he was walking near a woman, talking and walking fast.  The woman, pushing a stroller, was visibly disturbed, and my friend was trying to figure out how to help her. 

As it happened, she helped by getting NF to pay attention to us.  She had me turn around before she explained any of this and we got his attention.  She asked, "Is he following us?" and I said he wasn't, in an attempt to calm her.

But he was.  

And even though he was short, he caught up to us.  I shooed him away by saying no to whatever he said (after good morning, because there is no need to be impolite). 

He backed off, and I shrugged my shoulders and kept walking.  Later my friend repeated what he had said, I honestly hadn't paid attention to the words.  I knew my role was to reject and shut down.  So, I did it.

Apparently he thought by looking over at him we had indicated a desire or a need for his private parts.  So, being the amiable NF, he offered it directly to us. 

Turns out my rejection was apt. 

He was single minded in his quest, and presumably continued looking for the one (or ones) that had such a need.

As I told my friend, and then her husband when he joined us, sometimes you just have to keep asking until someone says, "YES!" It might not be the one you intended .... you just never know.

-------

And because I don't want to start another NRU draft file, here is a little piece on First Fridays (which I love but haven't been to since I moved back to Oakland) and whether or not Oakland is about to lose its artistic soul.  You don't really  have to read the article to know what it is about, but it's here if you do want to read it.  Needless to say, I am feeling Anyka's rent pain as I try to find a place I can afford...

Poetry Thursday

Oh soul, 

you worry too much. 

You have seen 

your own strength. 

You have seen your own beauty. 

You have seen your golden wings. 

Of anything less, 

why do you worry? 

You are in truth the soul, 

of the soul, of the soul.

~ Rumi  

More Oakland

I keep saying I will make time to finish those blog drafts, or start the pesky life blog posts hidden in my heart.  Alas... I am applying for jobs, that is refining my resume, and helping people organize their lives and trying to get fit...

So, here is another bit of the pictorial of my wanderings last week... enjoy

NRU more mishy and mashy

Ok, so this will be some "old" news and some more "current" events because it turns out I had more articles I was hording but not ready to write about for the last mishmash.

If you are in LA or its environs during the heat wave, this sounds like a great way to spend the day -- reading and pedaling on the water: a floating library in the middle of a "lake!"

This is the story of the cab driver who unwittingly picked up three fugitives who had just broken out of jail.  It is really stranger than fiction.

Continuing with the theme of "you wouldn't believe it unless it was in a novel" is a story about the death of two prominent citizens in NJ ...I won't tell you more except the cops think one thing and the family doesn't see how it could be possible.

It is so interesting when "friending" someone that you don't really know on fb can lead to stories you want to read and share.  The writer of this piece on having difficult conversations with loved ones about death is the candidate for whom my friend works.  I would never have seen this if I hadn't "liked" his page for my friend's sake of getting the candidate more likes!

Oakland...

 I had the time to walk a bit in a part of Oakland where I don't spend too much time, and I snapped a couple of pictures...

 This eclectic bit of scenery is a big part of why I love Oakland.