I am a Bumblebee, You are a Bumblebee....

     I am now somewhere around middle aged...although, if I were to listen to my doctors, I am a lot closer to the end of life.  I have to remind myself often of my age, because I simply do not feel it. Until I see myself in a mirror, or try to tackle sports or yoga, I feel 17 still.
     I have lived my life like that. Blissfully ignorant. When I was in college, a good friend told me I was a bumblebee.
     You see, physicists, mathematicians and other scientists have tried to figure out how a bumblebee can fly. To this day, nobody has been able to prove with science and math, that a bumblebee can fly.
     A bumblebee does not follow the rules of physics. It has a chunky furry body and teeny tiny wings. It is not aerodynamic at all.
     The bumblebee has no idea.
     The bumblebee doesn't really care. It has things to do.
      When I was a small child, I thought people were all pretty much the same. Yes, I was aware that different crayons may need to be used to draw them: different hair color, eye color, skin color... Essentially, I really thought we were all the same.
     It wasn't until I was around four years old that I found that perhaps we might not ALL be the same.
     My dad began taking me to air shows. "Look at that F-16. Can you see it?"
     "Yeah", I would mumble. I could see blue. Lots of blue. I could not see a plane.
      It was about two years later that I received glasses. WOW! I could not believe how much more there was to the world.
     Mind you, I had learned to read and to do basic math when I was four. I began kindergarten at the age of 4 1/2 and was able to look up words that I didn't know in a dictionary when I read books.  Somehow I was able to do this without being able to see more than six inches away from my nose.
     I excelled in math in elementary school. I played soccer and other sports, but in fifth grade, I again noticed that maybe I wasn't the same as everyone else.
    Twice each week, we began our day by running a mile. I was the only kid who could beat anyone at baseball and dodgeball, but could not run a mile without staggering across the finish line. I was gasping for air and feeling as if I was drained of all energy. It didn't make sense.
    Later, in middle school and part of high school, I played competitive sports. I played various instruments in music. I had a full life. On the weekends, I mowed the yard and did many other chores.
    There was nothing remarkable about my life. Just occasionally, I noticed that I really really had to sit down and get a large drink of water.
    When I was 14, many things began to happen.
     I broke my tailbone and had to slow down for a couple of weeks. The day I was to be released to regular sports activities, I woke up unable to move my neck.  I had to wear a lovely collar for a couple of weeks and then three weeks later I broke my tailbone again. 
    Softball season began and I was playing very competitively. We began the season well, and soon we were known as the "undefeated team".  Three games before the end of the season, I was injured during a softball game. Oh, the pain shooting through my leg.
      I finished the game, but after my Tuesday practice, I was in so much pain that I visited a doctor.
      Xrays were taken, physical therapy and muscle relaxers were ordered and things were supposed to get better on their own, but they didn't.
    Four weeks later I was taken from the physical therapists office to the emergency room. I was no longer able to walk. I could not feel my left leg at all.
     Several tests and a CAT scan later and I was sitting in a surgeon's office with my father.
     "We knew there had to be a reason why a very healthy, very fit 14 year old suddenly could not walk and we have found the culprit." He started.
     He pointed to my scans on a lit up board. "There it is."
     I squinted. Okay, so I don't get it.
     He explained that my back had become fish hook shaped after the original injury, two herniated discs and that they continued to swell and press on this area... this area that still did not mean anything to me.
      He told us that he could perform surgery, but that I would have to lay on my back for the entire summer, not moving and that he really thought that would give me a 60% chance of being able to walk again.
     That spot on my CAT scan was spina bifida. I looked at him in horror after the 60% comment. "Young lady, you were fortunate that you were ever able to walk. You were born with your skin in tact, but you have a hole in your spinal column."
     Yeah, I still didn't like it. I was able to walk before. 60% really didn't make me happy.
    So I shook his hand and told him I would consider the surgery.
    It was a long two hour ride home in the car. I asked questions out loud, but really, I was not looking for external answers from my dad.
    "I was able to walk, run, everything before, right?"
     My dad occasionally answered me.. I think he realized I was trying to just walk around in my mind and look at this from all possible view points.
      All summer..for 60%? 
      I did not chose the surgery. I can walk. I had physical therapy five times per week for over a year. Four months later I was able to walk without an assistive device.
      That same year, I began passing out rather randomly.
      I found that to be more inconvenient than necessary, so I went to the doctor. He took my blood pressure while I was laying down and then told me to sit up. I immediately got light headed and he took my blood pressure again.
     He told me all I needed to do was to slow down and pay attention when I was standing up or sitting up.
    That worked for the better part of 24 years. I had a few problems when I was pregnant, but really, I was back to feeling like I was just like everyone else.
     Then, when I was 38, I woke up one morning and realized that I could not breathe.
     Later that day, I was diagnosed with a congenital heart condition. Wolff Parkinson White was my new enemy.
     I say this because everything began to spiral.  I was informed that it caused "sudden death syndrome", a term I was extremely uncomfortable with.  Two months later, I had an episode, my heart stopped and I collapsed onto a concrete floor. I had anoxic brain injury and a severe concussion.
      I could not read, speak well, understand people or walk without appearing to be drunk.
      After two months, I was told I would not be able to go back to work and that I should begin the process to file for disability. I had extreme short term memory issues and once I began to read, it was at about a second grade level.
      It just did not seem right to take their word for it. Yes, I felt different. Yes I was frustrated with my new deficits. No, I didn't think that was the end of the story.
      I went back to work in October and although it was NOT easy to filter out all of the noise distractions, drive, and read memo after memo, by November, I was able to do the same job I had done before the injury.
     After I was a bit more stable, I had the heart surgery I needed and here I am... Alive, walking, talking, working, teaching.....
      I am a bumble bee.  I am not special, just as a bumblebee is not special. There are millions and millions of bumblebees leaving the hive each morning and flying.
     There are millions and millions of us. We have been told, "You can't_____", and we didn't listen. 
     Scientists, mathematicians and doctors do not know everything yet. Yes, they can guage the situation based on their knowledge and experience, but my path was not written by them. Your path is not written by them.
     I will not tell you that I have no limitations. I cannot leap off of a cliff, flap my arms and believe that will work out well for me. I cannot fly.
     I still have struggles, but every day, no matter how impassible an obstacle may seem, I remind myself: You can walk, you can talk. The rest is just frills and thrills.
     I am so fortunate that I never truly believed what people said to me. I am so fortunate that I was able to begin my life completely unaware of the spina bifida or the life threatening heart condition. 
     I have a point, as I always do.
    Now, in the 21st century, we have diagnostics for so many things in early childhood. So your child is diagnosed with some disorder or another. Deal with the medical issues, but please remember that your child is a bumblebee.  I have a couple of little bumblebees.  Both have life threatening medical issues...and I could indeed be perfectly right in protecting them from everything. I do make adequate preparations for them, and have taught them to, but I have always found as many ways as I can for them to fly like a bumblebee.
    So, when I was a kid, I was wrong...and yet I was right. There are more differences than can be expressed with crayons, but we are all the same. We are all people. We are all imperfect. We each have our battles. Not everyone has a medical battle, but we all have our battles. We just have to remember that we are ALL like bumblebees.

Absurdity

   I am a pretty literal person. If I say it, I generally mean exactly what I say. 

    I have been reading a lot lately. I have been looking for recipes, gardening tips, and general instructions. I have mentioned that I have also begun to learn about preserving my own meals this year. 

    Inevitably, this has led me to complete distraction. It seems when learning to dehydrate my garden fresh tomatoes, or "can" my own soups, stews and salsas, I have seen several links to doomsday type informational web sites. 

     I am still reeling from a lot of what I have read. 

     I pay attention in class; meaning that I have listened to the stories my grandparents have told about growing up in rural western Oklahoma during the Depression and Dust Bowl.  I have also listened to my father describe visiting nations with overnight explosive inflation. I have heard the horror stories.

    I have read about possible nuclear fallout, EMP's (electro magnetic pulses), rapid inflation and general demise of our local infrastructure. 

     It absolutely boggles my mind that these horrors have happened and could happen again. It disgusts me that somewhere in the world today, people will line up for a small bowl of food and could not even begin to hope for a simple vaccination.

     I am left with the impression that although people can be resilient and amazingly hardy, people are just not quite smart enough yet.

     We have abundant resources on this planet. We have amazing technology and knowledge.  We have all of this and yet we continue to starve each other out.

     This is where I just find myself completely batty. I once worked for a company that provided a service. In fact, that company was supposedly the largest in the world at providing that service. The employees were the best paid in the industry. Yet there was one teeny, tiny flaw that kept rearing it's horrendous head. That company did not make any money on their "service". The math just did not work. So that company chose to sell additional "fluff" items to supplement the income. These fluff items had NOTHING to do with the service the company is known for. Hmmm.. how to explain...

     Think of this. If I were to work at building railroad tracks. I would have to spend the money on supplies, and purchase a train and then sell tickets to provide a service. Now, if I were to go to a bank for the loan, they would expect my ticket prices and expected customers to provide enough in the till to pay for the work on the railroad tracks, the fuel, the train and other necessary expenses as well as provide me, the only employee, with an income. If I could not show the bank on paper how solvent this idea is, they would NEVER loan me the money.

      Okay, but we are all about creative accounting, right? So I realize that I am out of money, the bank won't loan me any, and I have no paycheck to pay for my food, clothing, etc. What do I do? Do I raise the price of my tickets? Why, of course not. There are others building tracks right now. I will make an agreement with the bank that I will sell their credit cards. Then I will make an agreement at the local diner that I will advertise their meals and sell reservations to that diner. Since I do not have to provide any tools or materials, those sales become mostly profit.

     Absurd. My train is not making any money for me. 

     A lot of companies are like this.

     We can see the impact of importing goods on our own families, and yet when charged with a large project at work, we decide to use the lowest bidder so that we can pocket just a bit more money. Wait, the lowest bidder happens to be a company in another country. What is the profit in this situation? There were no U.S. materials used, no U.S. labor used.  We just made things a little harder for a few more U.S. companies.

      It is a bit like defecating in our own bathtub isn't it?

      So, those companies are forced to sell credit cards...to people who will also lose their jobs and not be able to pay...

     Wait, my train appears to be derailing.

      We have plenty of resources. We have plenty of people who are experts at marketing those resources. (How else can you explain people purchasing organic produce and then chugging an artificial energy drink?)

     We just need FOCUS.  That is all. We need to work TOGETHER on a common goal.

       Oh, that is where it is not so simple. We do not seem to be able to view this as US, or WE anymore. We seem to have turned to a ME and MINE society.

      Sigh.

      I am in charge of nothing. I have little influence. I could not even guarantee that the way I do things is the right way. 

      I can tell each and every one of you to look around. How many absurdities are you participating in?

      I can tell you I have more absurdities than I know what to do with. I try to watch labels. I try to support local business. The next thing you know I have purchased baseballs only to discover that my BASEBALLS were made in CHINA!  How in the name of all that is right did that happen?

     How did we ever allow BASEBALLS to be imported from China?

      Sigh.

      These are things that shake my brain in a way that I simply cannot describe.

       Come on America! We are better than this! We can do better! Insist on it!

      This is an election year.  You are being told every day and in every way how important your vote is.

      Guess what, you are voting on even more crucial matters every single day. With every single purchase, WE are voting on what is acceptable.

      If you want to promote local business, VOTE for local business by spending your money locally, to help an AMERICAN keep their job.

      If you want to vote for healthier, safer foods, purchase the healthier, safer foods. Do a little bit of homework.

       Let's make our actions match our words.

      Let's be very literal about this.

      WE can make a difference. There is proof of that in every store. It is our choices that have made the center of the grocery store so large. We wanted our convenience foods and snack foods. Well, we have gotten them, in abundance. I see grocery carts full of everything from the middle and just the top front of the cart (child seat) contains their fresh fruit, vegetables, meats and eggs.  I have seen grocery carts with nothing but frozen dinners and beer. Lovely diet.

      We have also voted consistently enough that even the mega stores now have organic produce. We did it! We made THEM change. 

     We can continue to do this if we can FOCUS and work TOGETHER.

        Purchase locally. If your neighbors still have a job, then they are able to purchase from your company.... The cycle can continue in a positive direction. 

      Let's please reduce the imports and give business a chance right here in the United States.

      At this rate, it will not be a meteor, a nuclear war or an EMP that will destroy us. It is our own wallets. Use your votes well.      

Preppers - Sigh

      I have been doing a few new things.  I have been learning to put food in jars and preserve it.
     OK.  Wait.  Don't click the X just yet.
     I have been trying to make as many low sodium meals as possible, which has meant eliminating a lot of canned items from the store.
    After the insanity of actually reading the labels of the items marked "low sodium" and creating a list of ones that were within our needs.... I began to cook everything from basic ingredients. Actual vegetables and meats.
     This solved our sodium issues, but then there were other issues. Generally, the recipes that worked created more than three or four servings.
     So now we either had to deal with leftovers or find another solution.
    Since so many of my recipes had ingredients in common, I began cooking one day per week and dividing everything into four serving sizes and freezing.
     Ahhhh.. This has worked rather well. I had been creating four main meals and of each batch, I was able to divided those into three or four containers.  Add an impromtu roast or soup during the week and my freezer was becoming well stocked.
     I then realized that I was paying money every month to freeze these items. I have a large upright freezer dedicated to this. 
     Hmmmm.... I wondered if there was a way for me to use just the freezer space in my refrigerator.
     Well, not with my current methods of preparing for the week.  My current methods were making me happy.  We had a selection of twenty different meals in the freezer. We rarely eat the same thing twice in a month as I continue to make new items.
     I also happened to grow a larger garden this year.  There were a couple of weeks that produced more harvest than we could eat. We gave some away and then I decided to begin a new project. I would learn to "can" my own salsa, soups and whatever else I could learn.
     Now, I have since become pretty good at canning. I have made beef vegetable soups, two types of salsa, chicken vegetable soup, bean soup, apple butter and strawberry lemonade concentrate. 
     If you are familiar with canning, you realize that I have done both water bath canning and pressure canning.  Knowing both methods is pretty important.
    In my search for canning recipes and information, time and again I see links to "prepper" sites.
    When I posted a picture of some of my successes on a social networking site, I was asked if I was a "prepper".
     BAHAHAHAHAHA!  Okay, so I am not a prepper.
     I have written about this before. If by prepper, you mean that I could survive a week without going to the grocery store, then the truthful answer is "yes".   If instead, you are talking about the SHTF and other terminology that seems to include field medical kits, bug out bags and other such items, then "no", I certainly am not.
    No need to break into my house unless you are looking for a half jar of peanut butter.
    But seriously, I noticed a theme. There is a LOT of focus on food storage.
    So, let me take a moment to explain a few things. Food spoils.  Whether it is preserved or not, sealed or not, frozen or not...it all eventually spoils.
    It is not okay to tell your readers that home canned meats can be edible for five years. The tested information suggests using within one year and heating to a boiling point for a specified amount of time before consuming.  
    It is not okay to tell people to fill every cubic foot of space with foods. You do not know how much space that family may have. My point is that I have seen photos of people with their "stockpile" containing 30 or 50 bottles of ketchup and mustard. 
    Why would I point out condiments?  Check the best by dates. I know, I know, I would have thought mustard would last a century or so. I was shocked to find that mustard needs to be consumed much more quickly. The dates I have seen have been within a year of the purchase date. Hmmmmm.
    Well, surely that canned chicken and tuna from the store will last forever. Again, please check the dates. It doesn't last as long as  you think.
     It is irresponsible to tell me that if the SHTF and I have no access to decent medical care that I should eat foods that are well past the dates that are considered acceptable.
    It is also irresponsible to tell me to stockpile antibiotics. First of all, the antibiotics on your list are by prescription only. A doctor only prescribes them if you need them. So are you also telling me to skip my meds now so that I can take them after their "best by" dates also?
    The posts that make me really want to scream are the ones about how we need military field surgical kits. Right. MRSA hasn't taken enough people, we should have folks cutting each other up and sewing each other back together.
     Perhaps I just truly underestimate how bad things will be and for how long. Perhaps I just have not seen the light. 
     I am prepared for what would be considered minor issues. Three days without power, five days of icy roads inhibiting my trek to the grocery store, seven days of tornado chaos. I am prepared for those events because we have survived them here.
     I am not prepared for global collapse of any kind. 
     I grow a garden and am very aware that it is purely for my own joy. I do not grow enough food to call my family "sustainable".  In fact, now that I have learned to preserve meals and foods, I am absolutely baffled at how my grandmother was able to grow and store enough foods to feed her family entirely. She only purchased  sugar, salt and spices for years. Everything else came from her land and her hands.  If we had to eat my preserved foods every day, once each day, we would have enough food for 41 days. 
     Oh, I may not have a year's worth of food stored, but today I went through my emergency cabinet. (I go thru it occasionally to make sure we have what we need in case of a tornado or major ice storm.)  In that cabinet is an oil lamp, a box of candles, a few boxes of matches, a weather radio, a leatherman tool, and a flashlight. Apparently, my primary concern is darkness.
     I have been through several emergencies both here and overseas. I live in an area with a fantastic infrastructure so I have never been without power for more than three days. (That includes the May 99 tornado.) I do not anticipate having to survive for long without electricity. I also do not anticipate surviving for a long time without access to food.
     I am sure all things are possible. I am also sure that I will not be feeding questionable foods to my children. Not now. Not ever.  
     I will continue my methods. I have read a lot of the survival blogs, but they seem to lose sight of some basic science. This generation was not taught to be survivalists. My theory is that this generation was taught to fix things. My theory also states that this generation will figure things out quickly and make things better so that I do not have to resort to a camp stove and purification tablets to keep my family alive.
    Oh, I guess if I am wrong, I better hope that we are caught at a time when I have done things to excess... I am known for purchasing THREE of the five gallon water bottles for my dispenser just because it is a hassle and I don't like going very often.
    I make large recipes so that I can continue my habit of not doing any major cooking during the week. Hmmmm... Perhaps we could make it a little longer if you count the rice and noodles and ....
    As long as I do not find myself crossing the line. I do not want to find anyone in my home hiding cans of food under their beds or in their closets.
    I do not want to see a 5 gallon bucket of salt, ever.  
    I'm just doing what I do. Experimenting to see if I can find more ways to do things in my own home. I am not telling you that you should learn to pressure can soups, because honestly, the first time I did it, it scared the beans outta me. If we owned a metal trashcan, I would have used the lid as a shield as I approached the stove. I was that scared.
     I am also not going to tell you to throw away your 50 bottles of mustard. Just think about it. If you do not use that much, don't buy that much. If you are not careful to rotate your stock, please don't keep long term storage. Expiration dates are printed on them for a reason. Suggested storage times are there for a reason with home canned goods. It's not arbitrary. Those dates were given after testing.
     Food poisoning is not only not fun, it can be deadly. Be careful what you are teaching others about food safety. 
     Please do not do surgery on yourself.
    Ahhhhhh... the preppers will just argue with me anyways.... I'm going to look at a few more recipes now.

A Dream

     I was awakened again at 2:30 in the morning by a very powerful dream. Many times I have dreamed of this woman.  I cannot remember her name. 

   Yes, I dream about this woman now, but this was a real event. In the early 80's, I was attending a school at a cold war military base overseas. It was a small school. The graduating class celebration was for 42 students. The entire school was for 7-12th grade students and yet somehow, this woman made time to stop in at our school and speak to us. I am forever grateful that she did take the time to visit our little school in the middle of nowhere....
     I remember being in our auditorium for a guest speaker. On stage was a chair and a small woman. That was it. No screen to view a movie. No posters on tripods. Just a small woman who looked like she could be anyone's grandmother.  She had short hair with large curls. The way grandmothers did then. She had a kind and wrinkled face.

    Then she began to speak.  The introduced herself and told us where she lived in the United States. Then she began.

    
      The most horrific story ever unfolded from a woman with the kindest face. As she continued her story, her wrinkles seemed deeper and her face seemed a bit sadder.

     She was a survivor from a concentration camp during Hitler's reign. The auditorium was absolutely silent as she told her story. She told us of the most evil, gruesome acts and of watching her family and best friend die in front of her eyes.

     The students at our school ranged from 12 years old (me), all the way to 19 (seniors).  Every single eye was on this woman. 

     After she spoke, we were encouraged to stay behind and meet her and speak to her. I stood in line for a LONG time. I thought and thought about what I would say or ask of her. When I finally got to the front of the line, I grasped her hand, looked deep into her kind eyes and said, "Thank you for telling us your story."

    I was only twelve, but I knew that it must be so hard to talk about such horrible things over and over. I wanted to see in her eyes that her heart and soul were okay.

    She had a message. Her message was to NEVER forget what had happened to her family and her friend. She wanted us to look at her. She wanted us to listen to her. She wanted us to see that she was a PERSON. She was not some strange dangerous creature that should have been hunted, tortured and killed. 

     She has been haunting my dreams a lot lately. Perhaps 9/11, the school and university massacres and the latest Sikh temple killings are bringing her to the front of my mind. 

    I believe that if you see people as persons; as humans, it is very difficult to slaughter them. It is the systematic dehumanization that allows someone to cross that line. 

    Systematic dehumanization? Okay, it is a fancy way of saying, "They", or "Those people".  It is used a LOT in every day conversation in this country. Be wary. Be careful. 

      Sometimes it can sound harmless, "Those Downs Syndrome kids are so loving and happy."   Guess what.  Kids with Downs Syndrome are kids. Some are happy and easygoing. Some throw horrendous hissy fits that could rival John McEnroe at Wimbledon. Some are outgoing and some are introverts.

     "They" are INDIVIDUALS.

      If you find yourself thinking "they" or "those people" maybe it is time to get to know "them" as individuals.

     There is no excuse for hate. Hitler used a LOT of excuses.  He blamed the Jewish people for the fall of the economy and the high unemployment rate. He also stated that the Jewish people were trying to take over the world.  He did this to implant in people that Jews were "different". 

     We are all unique individuals, but we are all people. We have learned so little. We continue to find "them" to target. In this country, we have a pretty reprehensible habit of doing this. Women could not vote, could not hold office, and were treated pretty poorly when our founding fathers wrote our constitution. Well, technically pirates stole people from Africa, we just purchased them... PUHLEEZ.  Wrong is wrong. I grit my teeth when I hear stories of how some one's great grandfather was different: They treated their slaves well? Really? So they released them? They helped them to get a home?

     If we were reading a story of a teenager kidnapped, beaten and forced to work for free, what would we do?  Okay... so it is NOT okay to justify the poor treatment of any human being.

    That is it. That is the entire message. "They" didn't know any better is not a relevant statement.  There were a lot of families who did not own slaves. It was a choice.

     This is the deepest darkest truth.  We should never teach our children to justify their behavior by what is going on around them. The "if they are doing it, it's okay if we do it" is why we have able bodied people using their parents blue parking card to park closer to the store so they can just "run in".   It is wrong. It doesn't matter that you saw someone else do it.

      Oh, so you see that group picketing a funeral so it's okay if you do something less abhorrent? NO, you should be on your most respectful behavior at a funeral.  The family deserves nothing less from you.

        Sometimes no matter how uncomfortable, or boring, or not fun something is, we have to put our collective feet down and say "NO", it is not okay.

       Every time we are using the phrases, "they" or "them" or "those people" in a derogatory or disrespectful manner, we are disrespecting the entire human race. That's right. When it comes down to it, we are the human race. WE. That is a better word. 

      Bad is bad, sin is sin, evil is evil. Call it what it is. Chastise yourself.  Do better.  There are no levels of bad. There are no grades... "Well at least I didn't beat her."

        If you are being selfish, unkind, mean or evil, stop it. 

        Look into the eyes of an old woman. See her kindness, her pain and her life.

       I will never forget her. I will never forget her message. There is not worthy hate. Be kind and get to know people. You do not have to like every person, but dislike that person as an individual. 

       We all deserve to be treated as individuals. We all desire to do the best for our children. We all desire to feel safety, but not at the expense of another.

        There are a lot more things we have in common.  In my dream, I can still see her kind eyes, filled with pain.

         Perhaps we can create more eyes that shine with joy and humor...

       In my dream we can.