Post-Casserole Life

The Internet is buzzing with individuals and groups who are coming to the aid of the tornado victims across the south, most predominately in Alabama.  FEMA is there, as is USDA for farmers.  Everyone wants to help.

This is my home state.  Of course I'm concerned about the people.  But I'm not helping.  Not yet.  With all the influx of money and goods and offers of help, my help won't make any real difference right now.  Instead I pray for them.

Is it callousness that prevents me from helping?  No.  On the contrary.  I am very worried about what will happen to all those families, young people, elderly people, farmers, small business owners, whoever they are.

I'm waiting for the phenomenon known as the Casserole Period to end before I offer help in terms of time, talents, and treasure.  Anyone who has lost a close family member -- parent, spouse, child -- knows exactly what the Casserole Period is. 

On average, it's about six months long.  During those first months after the funeral, neighbors and church members and friends bring casseroles and frozen dishes for the family's supper.  They ask how you're holding up.  They offer to help in whatever way is needed.  And then it stops.

People no longer ask how you're holding up.  They worry if you look sad or teary-eyed after what they think is sufficient time to be over your grief.  They no longer bring casseroles.

And so it is with natural disasters.  Our focus moves on.  Remember Banda Aceh?  McDowell County, West Virginia?  New Orleans?  Port-au-Prince?  Christchurch?  Sendai?  Fukushima? 

There will still be a need for assistance six, nine, eighteen months from now.  Who will be there to bring casseroles after another trip around the sun?

In Case of Emergency, Remove Bra

For your dirty-bomb-terrorist-attack, shelter-in-place, hysteria-inducing survival kit, load up on plastic sheeting, duct tape, and red frilly bras. Not that you’d need the bra for entertainment. Usually if one is holed up in an airtight space with poisonous gases outside and a limited amount of oxygen inside, any type of undergarment would be superfluous. But a bra just might save your life.

A Ukrainian doctor has invented the Emergency Bra, inspired by her first-hand eyewitness of the effects of Chernobyl. Once off, which most adults can do one-handed, the cups separate into two masks which are then placed over the nose and mouth to filter out harmful particulates.

Now whenever a terrorist drops a dirty bomb in the city center, we women have the means to save our lives. And we get to pick which nearby man we might also want to save. Choose wisely, gals, ‘cause he better be eternally thankful.

Finally! A legitimate excuse for men to nuzzle women’s chests without getting slapped. “But I was just trying out the gas mask.”

Trees Tag

The undersides of both of my upper arms have deep purple bruises from armpits to elbows. It’s the way my arms stopped my fall from a wire 40 feet in the air strung between two trees. There was a harness involved, as well as two carabiners that alternately locked onto the wires.

The stretch of the ropes course trail that caused the bruises was a series of 1X1 slats strung up in a series of trapeze-style “swings” lined up end to end. The object was to walk across the series of 1X1 swings to the next tree platform. It takes coordination, balance, agility, and strength. It’s not a timed course. Thank goodness.

Halfway across my quads and biceps were in need of a rest. I straightened my legs and stood up on one of the 1X1 “swings”. That felt good. My balance was there. My legs were straight. No strain on my quads from reaching for a swinging 1X1 with one foot while the other one was positioned on a different one. All the while the 1X1’s are swinging in opposite directions due to the pressure my feet are exerting on them to swing away from my center of gravity.

Pull those inner thighs together to bring yourself into a standing position rather than letting the 1X1’s get farther and farther apart until you’re doing the splits 40 feet in the air with just your two little (gloved) hand and two biners holding you up. Jumping the back foot to the next 1X1 swing and trying to push into a standing position at the same time threw off my balance. Down my arms came across the support wire.

It didn’t hurt at the time. Adrenaline has a funny way of keeping the pain at bay until you’re safely down on terra firma. It wasn’t until the drive home that I even noticed the bruises. Massive. Dark. Tender to the touch. Some with welts underneath.

But what a thrill ride the ropes course was! The trails are rated like ski slopes with one double black diamond. Next time I’ll try that one. Nothing like swinging in the trees on a gorgeous late fall afternoon to really make you feel alive!

Let's Go Fly a Light

Saturday mornings are meant for sleeping late, not being awoken with the phone ringing at 5:15 a.m. Our phone announced the incoming party’s name, the parents of our second daughter’s best friend. The friend wasn’t at home and the parents didn’t know where she was. The father called to find out if she was with our daughter. Which she wasn’t. First thought in my mind, “Oh, no, not another runaway!”

In the past month, my eldest daughter’s friend ran away from home. The police came to our house to interview both of the teenagers about if they knew of the girl’s whereabouts. Which they didn’t. The girl finally surfaced five days later at a friend’s house.

Just for the record, I’m a terrible mother, according to some of the comments I hear third-hand from parents of my daughters’ friends. Some of the terrible things I do:

*Allowing the kids to choose, once they’ve been confirmed, whether to go to church with us (unless they’re on the schedule to acolyte, in which case it’s non-negotiable)
*Allowing my middle daughter to wear shorts and skirts to school which the other parents think are too short
*Allowing my children to get their learner’s permits without tying the privilege to a certain level of grades
*Allowing my teenagers to take public transportation and/or walk all over the city to shop, eat, and watch movies
*Teaching my children at a young age about human reproduction
*Telling my young teenagers about oral sex
*Offering my children wine with meals at home and tastes of other alcoholic drinks when their father or I order them in a restaurant

But in my defense, my children

*Won’t have a resentful attitude about church as adults
*Will have a respect for alcohol and know their limits before getting to university and the “real world”
*Understand that sex is a normal part of life and, as girls, won’t allow a boy to insist on certain activities without a reciprocation on his part
*Call adults Mr. and Mrs. rather than by their first names as a sign of respect and the boundary between childhood and adulthood
*Know that our home is a haven, a safe-place, not only for them but for their friends as well

Once I insisted that my eldest daughter sit in on an adult education lecture at church. The lecturer was a young female chaplain from the local church-run school. She described the differences in parents by comparing us to tractor beams (à la Star Trek) or lighthouses.

Parents who insist that their children do and say and think and act the way the parent wants the child to are like tractor beams, pulling the child into them. This action is enough in drive the children away or to make the child rebel in ways harmful to the child. Not what we should be striving for.

But lighthouses weren’t designed to draw anyone TO them. If a ship goes TO the lighthouse, it crashes on the rocks. Lighthouses are designed to show ships the way to safety by keeping them away from danger. Parents should strive to show their children the dangers that exist and let the children go. My eldest daughter now refers to herself as the lighthouse to her friends. She’s proud of that fact, but understands that it’s a huge responsibility for someone her age.

Even though some parents may think I’m too lax with my rules, I know to pick my battles. I do have street cred with my children, as when I kept our eldest from going on an exchange program because she didn’t keep up her end of the bargain which was an improvement in her grades. (She’s now taking four AP classes and going on a different exchange trip.) And the middle daughter (who infamously was thrown out of the church children’s choir and was asked to leave the church youth group) knows what it’s like to live under house arrest. (The jury’s still out on whether she’s a lighthouse to her friends, but I suspect she might be heading that direction.) I’m just saving the big guns for the big infractions.

As for the friend whose parents woke us at an ungodly hour on Saturday, she is safe at home. I bet she’s grounded for life. And while I don’t want to cast allegations on the parents involved since they are friends of my husband’s and mine, rather than having a helicopter parent the girl needs a lighthouse parent.

Light a Candle

For those of you who haven't seen this elsewhere, it's very powerful. Check out the video here. Then check out the website here.

Back to Black

Who’s at fault if a vehicle hits a pedestrian if it’s dark-thirty and the pedestrian is wearing black? While taking a friend home last night, I stopped at an intersection. The powers-that-be of my town have made it downright impossible to see oncoming cross traffic unless you pull across the pedestrian crosswalk and nose your way out past the line of parked cars at the curb. As I started forward across the crosswalk, my friend yelled at me to stop. I looked around and didn’t see anything. But then I saw this man, standing in the crosswalk near the driver's side front bumper, giving me a what-the-f*ck look. He was wearing a black topcoat, black pants, and carrying a black briefcase. As he walked away shaking his head and looking back disapprovingly over his shoulder, I muttered under my breath, “Well, if you weren’t wearing black, people could see you better.”

Heed my warning! Don’t wear black if you know you’re going to be out after dark. If you are wearing black after dark, don’t assume that people can see you even if you’re just a few feet away.

Here Kitty Kitty

I hiked part of the Appalachian Trail a few weekends ago with a group of outdoorsy-types. Fabulously beautiful scenery. Spectacular stillness. Warm camaraderie. It was a rare weekend without any family members around.

If you've never backpacked a through-trail, there are some things you need to know before you head out.

• You have to carry everything out that you carry in. Everything. Take a minute for that to sink in. Everything. Bingo! Even your toilet paper.
• You can only carry so much water with you; which means you have to collect and purify water along the trail.
• If water is such a scarce resource, and you have to carry out everything you carry in, washing dishes is elevated to an art form.

We had some of the best meals on the trail. Two ladies had Pad Thai. My tent buddy, another woman, and I shared lasagna and a berry crumble for dessert. Dehydrated meals are not what they used to be. But they leave your mess kit covered with the sauces.

What to do? Wipe your plate/bowl down with a paper towel that you have to pack out? Or find out how Yours Truly got her trail name?

Remember when you were little and would lick the bowl of ice cream or, if you were really lucky and your mother wasn't concerned about salmonella, cake batter? Ever watched your pet lick the bowl for the very last morsel? Getting the picture yet?

I didn't realize that I was creating such a spectacle of myself by plopping down on a rock and licking my plate clean. But I didn't have much washing to do afterwards. And no traces of food particles that would attract visitors during the night.

So my trail name? If you haven't guessed it already... Kitty.

She-Woman

Your result for Survival Test...

Weekend Warrior

16% Death and 67% Survival!

Way to go, you are awesome! Although it has been a rough go, you probably have made it out in one piece...you are alive!

If you are a man you are sure to catch the eye of some fair maiden and sweep her off her feet with those skills...good going.

If you are a women look out, some man will snag you up for your willingness to get out there and rough it... Ooo Baby!

You sure do have some great knowledge, but you might want to brush up on a few things to be a "survivalist". Grab a buddy or two, take all you need to survive and then practice in a safe environment. You guys are amazing!

There are many resources on the web for wilderness survival, please check them out. However, my personal favorite is Hoods Woods.... but decide for yourself.

I would appreciate it if you could vote on my test. Thank you

Take Survival Test at HelloQuizzy