Monday, September 27, 2010

Respect of Title

Equality has long been a strong belief. As a result I cannot imagine calling anyone “Lord” or “Lady” anything. I’m determined to reject the idea of separate classes in society. I left titles behind in my young adulthood with a casual way of talking to anyone and everyone. But living in the south I’m beginning to feel a little differently on my harsh outlines about stated behavior.

I read an article by Denise R. Kaye is Sunday’s New & Observer titled ‘Respect: Please we are not on a first name basis.’ I newly agree with her. I have been greatly impressed by the good manners of the youth that I’ve encountered here in North Carolina. By youth I mean from four years up through the teens and even into the twenty-somethings. I’ve also experienced moments of embarrassment when I’ve called someone by their first name after just being introduced. Especially a person who I think is older than I am. (Just when I think there aren’t any.) I have no idea where that moment of feeling came from. In Jersey I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But here I do. It seems right and fitting.

Today I see Mr., Ms. and Miss as titles of respect not as a mark of difference in class.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Fall Meditation

From guest writer, Jyoti Wind
www.starshine-galaxy.com
www.writes-of-passage.blogspot.com

Go into nature…a backyard, a park, the beach. If you can, put your back up against a tree or sit next to a bush; lay your heart on the earth at the beach or in a garden or meadow. Give to the earth and trees the energy that churns inside of you, either too much or too stuck.

Just let it flow out. The earth will grow flowers with it.
Then receive the earth’s energies, through the trees or the earth herself,
Breathe long and deep, in and out…giving, receiving. Let it heal you.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Changes

Inspired by a newsletter note from Jyoti Wind, I thought about her words on change. Life does knock us unexpectedly sometimes. While we may be dreading the future in one area, a tragedy happens in another. What we do and how we do it comes from deep within us. Often we don’t even know we had such strength but it’s there in all of us. We just have to dig for it.

Sharing our thoughts and feelings do help to heal those deep wounds that life tosses at us. It’s the flow between friends that keep the wound clean so a heavy scab doesn’t settle from that anguish, just a light mark left to keep a memory alive to draw on when we need it.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Women of World War II

What I really wanted to write about two days ago is the book I just finished reading, A Life of Secrets: Vera Atkins and the Missing Agents of WWII by Sarah Helm. It’s this story that moved me into thinking about women and our place in the world. The changes for women from the 1940s has been remarkable but weren’t brought about by gentlemen patting us on the head and calling us ‘little ladies.’

A book that can raise my ire, to get me stomping around the house in a rage is a book well-written and factual. It isn’t only that the women (radio operators) dropped behind enemy lines into France during that war were beaten, tortured, of course raped-violent men always rape-and tossed into gas ovens. That was certainly terrible but it was a fate suffered by men also and the women did volunteer for the duty.

After the war was finally ended the men in power wanted to keep the bravery of these women, some in their early 20s, secret. “Brush it under the rug and hide it,” they said. “Don’t let anyone know that we used women.” After all, the women who were allowed into military service uniforms were not allowed to actually carry weapons. Yuck. And the radio operators weren’t military. They were civilians.

Like a detective Vera Atkins traced each girl that she recruited from her department who did not return home after the war. She found out what happened to each one, how they died and where they died. She fought for honors and medals for them when the men of the military didn’t want to even acknowledge their existence. Regardless of who or what Ms. Atkins was, she did the right thing by these women. This all happened in England but that patronizing attitude was universal.

We have come a long way.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Jane Austen Calendar

Usually I buy two beautiful-quality- works-of-art-calendars each year online from Pomegranate. They hang side-by-side because I’m always working with various dates. My favorite for a few years now is The Reading Woman depicting various paintings by many different artists. I Love that whole series of calendars and boxed note cards so every year I look for them. Yesterday I was in Barnes & Noble. Since they have always carried the Pomegranate line I headed for the calendar section. I also buy a couple calendars for birthday gifts. Ugh. Not very many calendars offered at all. I’m grossly disappointed because I thought of saving the cost of shipping.

As I was walking away, the corner of my eye caught the words “Jane Austen.” My heart started pumping in excitement. I have looked each year wondering why no one has ever produced a good quality Jane Austen calendar. I mean she has been the hottest thing going, again, for at least fifteen years! Her name is everywhere. The only calendar I’ve ever seen was a puny offering from the Jane Austen Centre in Bath. That one has an exploded dollar amount, or pound really, exchanged into dollars.

My mind raced. Perhaps it will feature Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant or Amanda Root or …………..Egads! The calendar is Jane Austen and the Zombies! That's enough to make me scream!!!!!!!!!

Monday, September 20, 2010

Women of the Western World

In the decades since I came to the adult age (sometimes if feels like 200 years ago and others only two) women have made tremendous strides in taking a rightful place in the leadership and formation of our futures. Since the Dalai Lama stated last summer during his Peace Summit in Vancouver that western women are chosen to save the world I’ve begun to think about how far we have come. It hasn’t been easy for many of us.

Many of those that have taken the dais to balance out the power men have always assumed, are aiming at peace, nurturing, and using the heart as well as the head as guidelines. This is not to say that the world should turn to mush but that intelligence, respect, honesty, and that inner wisdom are utilized in connecting to other cultures and leaderships.

War, aggression, and atomic weapons have not won any country peace for their citizens. Perhaps this is the time for the birth of the Divine Feminine. Think of it. Art, poetry, music, beauty, and learning instead of violence, bombs, the boom of fighter jets and destruction.

What a world we could live in.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Painting the Past

I stand at my easel with brush in hand
facing a blank canvas, ready for the image to emerge.
Today I’ll re-create a scene or castle
or perhaps a medieval doorway I’ve discovered.
Scenes from the past, echoes of another time.

Stories resting quietly just below
the surface, waiting to be told with the brilliant
colors of oil. Or written out,
a painting of written words. Words to accompany
the oils as notes on a page to the musician.

My tale will rest on top of the stories
of men, builders with rock and stone and cast iron.
Monuments left behind to remind us
of triumphs and sorrows of those who loved, lived
and left behind their eternal imprint.

Impressions for me to research, to learn,
to seek, to know their stories are the same as mine.
Heavy, thick, large oaken doors
with black cast iron hardware closing with echoes
bellowing down the stone laden halls.

Announcing that I am here to uncover
the secrets of the past. Though I feel the deep-rooted
emotions vibrating into every room
I stand in ready to absorb. My promise is to enlighten
those that care, but I know…..

the only difference of then and now are the accessories.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Spanish/Portuguese Cod Chowder

Well, autumn is here whether the Weather Gods know it or not. Last week I bought some cod from Trader Joe’s (bless the originator of Trader Joe’s as often as I curse Sam Walton’s business practices) and have been anxious to make some good Spanish/Portuguese Cod Chowder. Today was the day.

I sautéed in olive oil (the gift from the Healthy Skin God) some thinly sliced onions, adding thinly sliced garlic, (please don’t burn) adding some cubed Golden Yukon potatoes, adding some good quality dry vermouth, adding a quart of fish stock (if you don’t make your own from shrimp peels and lobster claws and shells and of fish heads and bones, use water mixed with chicken broth—NOT CUBES) adding some fresh, if possible, or good canned tomatoes, adding a bay leaf, one or two whole cloves, parsley, tarragon, a bay leaf and marjoram. Simmer for approximately an hour.

Add chunks of cod (it’s a blessing of Trader Joe’s that I can get this here,) taste and add sea salt and dried hot pepper flakes to suit your self. Simmer for ten more minutes. While you are waiting with a glass of good, chilled white wine that will improve your taste buds, toast a slender slice of bread-I used a rosemary/olive oil bread-brushed with butter or olive oil. Lay this on top of the chowder after it is in your favorite soup bowl.

I don’t use measurements but I made enough-that’s a bowl full for me for at least two or three days because it is even better the next day or day after that. Adjust amounts to your own likings. Go wild! Be adventurous! Put your own personal imprint on it! Enjoy!

Friday, September 17, 2010

Cats

I know why there are so many books to choose from when looking for something to read on cats. I smile when I see Lady Jane stretched out under the cloth-covered center table in the entry room of my house. The folds of the burgundy damask add a graceful look to the room and Jane adds a feeling of home to it.

Chuckles cut loose from me when I see her white paw reaching out from under the guest room bed. She’s found a cool spot in summer and warm one in winter. Not to mention the peace of that room between visits of dear friends.

Laughter fills the room when Jane practically sits up for some treats. Whoever heard of a cat acting like a dog? But she loves food. And she talks now. Really!

Jane comes to me when her bowl is getting low on food. She wouldn’t do that two years ago. She would notify her sister and Lizzie would come after me demanding that I follow her to the bowl. And she would never come to me for stroking or to smell the food I’m about to eat as she always does now.

A few years ago the fur along the back ridge of her body became matted. I thought it was a part of her breed. She’s a big cat, rescued from the wilds of Bordentown, New Jersey. Well, the wilds being that her mom and dad were feral cats. But she is definitely part Manx. The Manx cats I researched on line looked just like Jane's back. My dog-grooming friend Laura suggested that she trim Jane of the matted fur. A new cat emerged! It changed her personality completely. So I brush her nearly every day and watch closely for any beginning of clumps forming.

It seems my pets must suffer from my mistakes just like my kids did. Fortunately they love me just like my kids do in spite of my imperfections.