tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8788819182536538182024-03-13T17:07:07.449-05:00Heroic MomentsLisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.comBlogger358125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-78179012398092054852023-08-22T10:22:00.000-05:002023-08-22T10:22:04.838-05:00Women in the Far-Right MovementI recently subscribed to <i>The Guardian</i>, thinking a British news source would give more unbiased reporting of US news. I was vastly incorrect. Take this <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/aug/12/conservative-women-tradwife-republican?utm_term=64d8c5ccc2567209c81184050c4109d0&utm_campaign=GuardianTodayUS&utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&CMP=GTUS_email" target="_blank">article</a>, for example: it is implied in the first paragraph by MacKenzie Ryan, the author of this "unbiased" account of alt-right women which <i>The Guardian </i>chose to file under "US Politics", that she will be reporting information from people who track how the far right mobilizes, self-reports, and recruits. Yet nowhere in her article does she give actual qualifications <b>in this area</b> of the people she cites. We have a Professor of Media and Communications; an Assistant Professor of Philosophy; and a PhD student who is also a researcher (subject[s] researched is not shared with us). Nor does she include any interviews with actual women she considers to be far/alt-right.<div><br /></div><div>"[Far-right women] have a lot more power than you think". That's Dr. Sandra Jeppesen, Prof of Media, etc. at Lakehead University in Ontario. Yep, Canada. At least she, presumably on the liberal side of things, recognizes that conservative women are not "held down" or "submissive". There's power there!</div><div><br /></div><div>Ryan says alt-right women are mobilizing against inclusive education. I think she's been misinformed. Women (and men) of a more rational bent are not against <b>inclusion</b>, but against the <b>forced</b> infliction of a deeply flawed theory of education. </div><div><br /></div><div>We're told some women on the far-right are wealthy and in social media production, because, as Tracy Llanera (Assistant Prof of Philosohy, University of Connecticut) is quoted, they are "the acceptable faces of conservative propaganda". I'm sure there are no wealthy, social media producers on the far-left at all; least of all those that might be the faces of liberal propaganda. Or if there are, we're not told of them; perhaps the other side of the story comes in a following article? Although that hoped for balancing article isn't mentioned either.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jeppesen claims alt-right women don't go into politics for altruistic reasons. Alt-left women do, I suppose. No hidden agendas with them. She says women, like men in the far-right "movement", believe there's a crisis and they have to commit to extraordinary action. Surely this is true of all people who see a crisis? And the action may be "extraordinary" in different ways. My husband and I saw several crises in the world. We responded by: remaining true to our faith; staying married through adversity; having more than 2.4 children; keeping one spouse at home with our children; homeschooling our children; teaching our sons how to respect women as something precious without denying their own masculinity; teaching our daughters how to be independent without ditching their own femininity; <b>never</b> using credit; living within our means; reducing, reusing, recycling; continuing to grow, do, and <b>think</b> for ourselves. In other words, when we saw the culture of the United States, we became "counter-cultural". </div><div><br /></div><div>Ashli Babbit was killed in the Jan 6th debacle on Capitol Hill (that would be the one in 2021, not the one that happens annually in the Capitol). Jeppesen says Babbit was promoted as a "martyr" to the conservative cause. "Women make better martyrs in 'the alt-right'."<b> ??</b> Was Breonna Taylor a lesser martyr to the "alt-left"? And why are we quantifying martyrs? <b>One</b> person dead for <b>any</b> cause other than Christ is one person too many.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ryan then begins to "discuss" Moms for Liberty; a group with "a fervent membership of conservative mothers". Llanera is quoted, "Mothers protect their offspring, out of the private sphere where they are most relevant." What?! <b>Every </b>woman is most relevant in their private sphere! Unless they don't have a private sphere. Emily Dickinson:</div><div> How dreary - to be - Somebody!</div><div> How public - like a Frog -</div><div> To tell one's name - the livelong June -</div><div> To an admiring Bog!</div><div>The Bog doesn't love you like a "private sphere" would. To the Bog, you are...irrelevant.</div><div><br /></div><div>The PhD student Ryan cites, Iowyth Ulthiin, is working toward her doctorate at Toronto Metropolitan University and researches...something...at Lakehead University. Canada again; even the same institution. I don't understand how this article can be filed in US politics when two of her three sources are Canadian? I don't understand how this can be classified as US <b>news</b> at all. It's clearly an opinion piece. An editorial from someone who neither did any real research nor any active, clear reflection on her subject at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>So long, <i>Guardian! </i>I'll have to keep searching for truly balanced articles about the US. It's a shame I can't get unbiased reporting about my country <u>within</u> my country.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-3153084282236734412023-01-01T14:30:00.004-06:002023-01-01T14:36:44.216-06:00New Year, New Goals<p>The beginning of a new year. I used Jen Fulwiler's Saint Generator, and was chosen by St. Paul the first Hermit. His patronage is of the clothing industry and weavers. Fascinating, as I hope to include sewing and woven jewelry into my projects this year.</p><p>I also used Jen's Word of the Year Generator. My word is PURPOSE. I love it! I know my purpose is to get my family to Heaven and my chief commitment is to family and home. I pray daily that my kids...<i>anyone.</i>..may only see Christ when they look at me. And now that I'm healthy and have energy I can bring order and peace to our home.</p><p>My purpose is also to be a fitting helpmeet to my husband. I feel a great urge to <b><u>pray</u></b> with him daily and to do more to help with expenses. I hope to make a boatload of sellable crafts and set up a booth at craft fairs, bazaars, etc. As I get more proficient with more complex items I may set up on Etsy - but that will be a few years down the road. I'll need to start small and build up. I'd like to recruit some of the kids to work with me and perhaps pay them with the proceeds. That too will take some time. We'll see how it goes.</p><p>I also chose a Focus Word: LEAN. Since gastric bypass surgery I've lost about 80 pounds. I continue to lose weight and am determined to reach my goal of 135 pounds by April 13th (one year out from surgery). About 30 pounds to go - it <b>is</b> doable. I wish to exercise daily; core exercises every other day with other targeted areas on the off days. A walk daily with Bill and the therapy pool as often as possible. My body will get toned and lean; I'll be strong enough to answer any call of God and will be taking care of my temple.</p><p>LEAN has other meanings as well. I plan to <b><u>lean</u></b> into our Father, relying on His Strength and Providence. To do this I need to speak with Him daily, get to Mass regularly, try to add a daily Mass or two to my schedule, Lectio Divina, continue my Adoration hour (it's SO fruitful!), volunteer when needed, practice hospitality. Add these in a little at a time so there's no overwhelm. Make good habits.</p><p>It's obvious I need some kind of schedule. There's always appointments to get to, Monica has school, meals and prep time need to be added...it may be challenging but it will be doable.</p><p>I also want to blog this journey. Sunday is a good day to do that: one day a week is a good starting goal.</p><p>Whew! Exciting plans! I'm a turtle, though, not a hare. Slow and steady wins the race. One goal at a time will be implemented. That way all will be accomplished well. I'll refer to my list of goals often, I think. Otherwise I'll forget my motivation and lose my way. It's a "long and winding road" that leads to God's door, but I'm on the way. One foot in front of the other and I'll finish the course. Walk with me.</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-47066441397790887902022-05-20T09:47:00.000-05:002022-05-20T09:47:08.059-05:00Unexpectedly Caught Up...And Yet,,,I am one month and one week ot from gastric bypass surgery. That first week, I lost about twenty pounds of excess weight. What?! The next week I lost two pounds. What?? Did I do something wrong? <div><br /></div><div>From then on, it's been two-four pounds weekly. I know this rate of loss is much healthier. I can't expect the pounds to just melt off, twenty pounds a week, until I'm at that impossible-seeming goal; the proper BMI for someone my height. I was unexpectedly caught up in the numbers on the scale.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did this for my health. The weight loss was secondary - I wasn't interested in that. A nice bonus, but not part of my health goal. And yet...it is. The more weight I lose, the less my knee hurts (I currently have a disability tag in my car in order to park in handicapped spaces because the knee pain and instability were so bad. I had to use a cane, and scooters in the store.) The more weight I lose, the less my SI joints hurts (four injections over a year; none helped for long.) The more weight I lose, the less stress on my heart, my blood vessels, my legs and feet...the less inflammation in my body. That means even less pain; possibly an end to migraines, less arthritis pain, less fibromyalgia.... Since this journey began, I've had one day of overall pain...I felt as though I'd been beat. Everything hurt. The day before, though, I had WAY overdid it. Not even cleared for exercise, and my Beloved and I wandered around Allerton a long while the day before. By the next day, after the pain day, I was fine. Once I had a headache. Just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill headache. Don't know when that last happened. Before, all headaches slipped into migraines almost before I could register them. Incontinence even seems to be gone. I have no idea what the mechanism behind that is, but I will take it!</div><div><br /></div><div>So. I did this for my health, thinking the weight loss was just a happy benefit. And almost despaired when I realized I was so shallow as to get caught up in how many pounds I'd lost. Vain. Fitting right in with society; pervading, invasive American culture. I wanted my mind on HEALTH, not weight loss. And yet, weight loss is health.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have lost 24% of excess body fat. I have lost 5 BMI points. No longer considered morbidly obese, just obese. I'm on my way to health through weight loss. Please pray for me.</div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-75498250690713533402022-05-02T09:40:00.005-05:002022-05-20T09:55:58.650-05:00the Work of God<p> I've often, over the years, asked God how best I could serve Him: what could I do to make an impact for His kingdom? I didn't find an answer in my angst-filled teens. I did go to an Evangelical Bible College and got a degree in Bible with an emphasis on Biblical Counseling. For one reason or another using that degree was blocked. It seemed I couldn't serve God that way. I drifted through my twenties still asking how I could serve. </p><p>Then I stopped asking. I turned my back. I made one disastrous decision after another until I lost everything: boyfriend, job, bank account, living arrangements...even my truck broke down as I was trying to return to my parents. I still wasn't asking; I was half-way turned back to Him, but still resentful. I figured I'd be alone the rest of my life; whatever job I got would fill my days; I'd live with my parents until I got on my feet again.</p><p>Then I met my Beloved Bill, married, was slammed into our first difficult pregnancy. Shortly before our marriage, we had started attending Church (Mass for him, service for me) and the question started echoing again, "How can I serve you?"</p><p>With Christopher's birth, I knew my service in that season was to raise godly children. I threw myself into that; and the babies, the heartaches, the joy, the big decisions kept coming; but I knew where my service lay. With my family.</p><p>Then depression, illness, LIFE happened. I was bedridden much of the time. I felt useless. What could I do then? My wise husband told me I could always pray. And I knew I could offer up the constant pain for someone else's benefit. Yet I felt I didn't do either very effectively. In James 5:16, we're told "the prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective". I wasn't righteous. And I was so wrapped up in my pain I forgot to offer it up - it was wasted. Just...pain.</p><p>I wanted to be USEFUL. I wanted to be ACTIVE. The things I was trying to do seemed so <i>static.</i> Stagnant. Worthless. Of course, the Word of the Lord had the answer all along. Jesus had just multiplied the loaves and fish. The crowds had seen the apostles leave on a boat to Capernaum without Jesus; but in the morning, he wasn't there. (He had joined his disciples overnight, walking on the water.) So the crowds found him again in Capernaum. After a discourse by Christ, they </p><p> "said to him, "What can we do to accomplish the works</p><p> of God?"</p><p> Jesus answered and said to them, "This is the work of </p><p> God, that you believe in the One He sent." --John 6:28-29</p><p><br /></p><p>Now obviously, it isn't quite that easy. But with belief IN Him, comes love OF Him. With love OF Him comes the desire to be LIKE Him. With that desire, combined with action, in whatever season of life, you're automatically doing the will of our Father: because that's what Jesus did, and we're imitating Him. But it all starts with faith. Love. Only then will we have hope of eternal life.Yet we do need strenghth for the act of service. Jesus announces in John 6:27 that what nourishes man is a spiritual food which gives us eternal life. God is the One who gives us this food and He gives it to us through His Son. We must eat His body, drink His blood, in order to continue receiving power and virtue; in order to continue the work of God which is believing in the One He sent. The Eucharist is REAL, thank Goodness! My Lord and my God. + Amen +</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-23155516044422548962022-04-29T09:45:00.001-05:002022-05-20T09:50:03.648-05:00Freedom from...is this a sin?<p>"He does not ration his gift of the Spirit." --John 3:34</p><p>"Thou hast multiplied, O Lord my God, thy wondrous deeds and thy thoughts toward us; none can compare with thee! Were I to proclaim and tell all of them, they would be more than can be numbered." --Ps 40:5</p><p><br /></p><p>I never thought my eating habits were a problem. When I cooked for the family (which, admittedly, was rarely) we had a meat, a starch, and a non-starchy vegetable. Since I often was nearly bedridden, my husband or , again rarely, one or more of my daughters cooked; the servings of starch went up and the vegetables pretty much... disappeared. Now I really can't complain, right? He's doing this wonderful service for me, which shows he loves me, because most of the time he's wiped out too. Brain work, requiring concentration and attention to details, many times is more taxing than physical work. So we'd end up in a "carb coma" for a short time, needing a nap, and wake ready to nosh. Eating much more than intended, and much more than necessary, on a particular day. Is this a sin?</p><p>I was/am? also an emotional eater. Angry with one of the kids? Stuff that emotion down with some chips. Frustrated with Bill? Push it in with some cheese and crackers, A LOT of cheese and crackers. Simply bored? Popcorn, nicely buttered, is always a panacea. The list goes on: grieving, exhausted, sad, happy, energetic, lonely, need a reward...all were "satisfied" with unhealthy, in nature or in portion size, food. Is that a sin?</p><p>Yes. They both are sins. The first: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple." (1 Cor 3:16-17) </p><p>The second is a sin because I'm not relying on the Lord, I'm trying to fill a God-sized hole with food; it doesn't work. "For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit... ." (Rom 8:5)</p><p>Our family is quite fond of the Aubrey/Maturin series of books written by Patrick O'Brien. In <u>_Blue at the Mizzen,</u> before telling Captain Jack Aubrey about a naval attack on Valparaiso, Chile, the naturalist, spy, and ship's doctor, Stephen Maturin says, "I tell you most solemnly that I must be fed." "Well, if your god is your belly, I suppose you must worship it," said Jacob.</p><p>Our god has been our belly. We are to "abstain from every form of evil." (1 Thess 5:22) "I appeal to you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship." (Rom 12:1)</p><p>"Nevertheless,He did not come to abolish all evils here below, but to free men from the greatest slavery, <i>sin</i>, which causes all forms of human bondage. (CCC #549)</p><p><br /></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-10655347636402928662022-04-24T11:42:00.005-05:002022-05-20T09:47:44.486-05:00Health and Mercy<p>"The last degree of love is when He gave Himself to be our Food; because He gave Himself to be united with us in every way." <span> ---St. Bernardine of Sienna</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><span>On April 13th I had Roux-en-Y Gastric Bypass surgery. I chose to do this in order to gain some form of health; type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, constant pain from fibromyalgia, arthritis, migraines, back issues (my SI joints were getting routine corticosteroid injections) ... lingering pain from knee replacement surgery done in 2008 and mildly damaged in 2015. I had no energy, no stamina, virtually no hope. I mourned the person I used to be: capable and strong. I no longer canoed, or hiked, or camped, or socialized, or just about anything. I didn't have the spoons. If I did have a good day, inevitably I did too much, and would have to spend the next few days in bed doing nothing. When does invalid become in-valid? For that's how I felt: isolated, useless, forgotten. And there was unrelenting pain.</span></p><p><span>After some research, I realized this surgery would help more of my conditions than anything else. I had accepted the fact that my body's set point for weight was around 250 lbs., a lot to carry on a 5' 4" frame, but there you have it. I took this option for HEALTH. The weight loss was just lagniappe.</span></p><p><span>So. Surgery the 13th. I followed all the rules preparing for the surgery - a highly motivated candidate. My last blood sugar pre-op was 197: the first post-op was 115. Half of my medications are gone: my body can no longer absorb them properly. Others have lesser dosages. My way of eating is forever changed, of course, and exercise must become my good friend. it's worth the cost...I've had more energy the last week than I've had in years! My family has to keep reminding me to take a break. There has been no pain other than the incision sites. Not a headache, let alone a migraine. I have stamina. BP readings are on the low side of normal. I've lost 9 lbs. (as of Wed. I only weigh once a week.) I'm 11 days out from surgery. If it can make a difference that quickly, just imagine the possibilities! Oh, I've been. </span></p><p><span>This surgery has been a Blessing: a Mercy.</span></p><p><span>Today is Divine Mercy Sunday on the Church calendar. In Dives in Misericordia, Pope Saint John Paul II tells us that Divine Mercy is the ultimate manifestation of God's love in a history injured by sin. John 3:16 declares "God so loved the world that He gave His only Son." In the Easter vigil we proclaim, "To redeem the slave He has sacrificed the Son." Our own despicable situation, caused by sin, is placed by God into the loving heart of Jesus, faithful to the Will of the Father and Food for our souls. That's Mercy.</span></p><p><span>In today's second reading we find, "I, John, your brother, who share with you the distress, the Kingdom, and the endurance we have in Jesus..." We are all distressed. The sin in our life strangles, maims, leaves us spiritually bedridden. Then Christ appears; makes us valid through the Sacraments, shows us the Kingdom as long as we endure in His Way.</span></p><p><span>"Let those who fear the LORD say, 'His mercy endures forever." ---Ps. 118:4</span></p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-35293415362134791072021-08-09T10:14:00.007-05:002021-08-09T11:07:14.235-05:00Book Girl<blockquote>"A woman who reads is a woman who taps into the fundamental reality that she was created to learn, made to question, primed to grow by her interaction with words. A book girl is one who has grasped the wondrous fact that she has a mind of her own, a gift from her Creator, meant to be filled and stretched, challenged and satisfied by learning for all the days of her life. A woman who reads is one who takes ownership of herself, aware that words give her the holy power to seek, to grow, to question, and to discern. She knows that to read is to begin an adventure of self-formation in partnership with the Holy Spirit that will shape the choices she makes, the dreams she bears, the legacy she leaves in the great tale of the world."<br /><br />
Sarah Clarkson Book Girl p 34<br /><br /></blockquote>
<div>I have always been a book girl. I don't remember a time when I could not read. My parents are both readers and I probably picked it up by osmosis, following their fingers across the page as they read to me. I was given the impression that this reading business was <b>fun</b>; but not only that, it was <b>important.</b> What child doesn't want to do important things?</div><div><br /></div><div>I distinctly remember my first days in kindergarten. I was excited; I'd been told I'd learn new things! We learned the Pledge of Allegiance (to this day I distinguish my left and my right from how I stood facing the flag in that classroom). We had a game, song-time, then we settled down to work. On the alphabet. I was baffled - this wasn't new! I did it for the first week, until I felt safe enough with Miss Gibbs (the gentlest of souls but I was a wary child) to admit to her that I already knew my alphabet. I already knew how to read. I said this with some trepidation as I didn't want to get kicked out of kindergarten because I knew more than the other kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>I grew up in a rural Indiana community with about 0.1 percent diversity of any kind. Miss Gibbs was my first exposure to an African-American. She was beautiful, with a well-modulated voice, quiet and warm, and with infinite patience. I loved her dearly. Didn't even mind when she married over Christmas break and became Mrs. Whalen (though it was hard to remember the change). Knowing the alphabet already was certainly possible but she was, understandably, a little skeptical that I could turn all those letters into reading.</div><div>She sat on one of the little chairs, pulled me close to her side, and asked me to read a book to her. She chose, I read. After three books, she was convinced. From then on, at alphabet time, I was given worksheets to practice printing, or math worksheets, or sometimes coloring pages. I wasn't kicked out of kindergarten and I did learn new things!</div><div><br /></div><div>I <b>devoured</b> words. I've read, through my life, anything I could get my hands on. Cereal boxes, of course. Dad's Andre Norton, Mom's current fiction. They didn't curtail my reading. If I had questions, we could discuss. I think I read <i>Valley of the Dolls </i>when I was 10. That was shortly followed by <i>Flowers in the Attic</i> and <i>Salem's Lot.</i> Yuck. That was when I realized that just because it was a book didn't mean I had to pick it up. I stay away from horror, movies and books. The books are more detrimental to me; I put my own images to the words which is much more realistic than the gore pictured on the screen. I read Mom's romance novels throughout my teens, until I was glutted. Then I had a realization. I was growing increasingly restless, not only with those books but also with my life. I wasn't catching a stranger's eye across my algebra classroom. Nor was any handsome rogue eager to rip my dress away from my heaving bosom. And I had a sneaking suspicion that if one tried it, I would knee him in the groin and run away. </div><div><br /></div><div>I came to the realization that I was dissatisfied with my <b>life</b> because of the words I was stuffing into my head. They were giving me unrealistic expectations. My ordinary life didn't measure up. I'm so glad the Holy Spirit led me to that realization. Otherwise I would have kept up my steady diet of the stuff of unreality as a means of "escaping" my ordinary life. This is the siren call of soap operas and porn magazines; any addiction really. Unrealistic expectations.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I cut out romance as a genre of interest (recently I've let it back in, a book here or there, if highly recommended by a trustworthy source). Discernment. Knowing what suits your life, your season and circumstances, your available time...it all matters in the reading life. I can't go willy-nilly through the library stacks pulling out random titles. I have to have a plan. I have a to-be-read list as tall as I am and getting bigger by the day (I put asterisks by titles I <b>really</b> want to read before I die). Then I choose my books to look for by what I want to get out of them in the next month. Am I having trouble praying? I'll choose reading to address that need. Just a bit of fluff? A mystery to read in waiting rooms. I usually have several books going at once, a practice I learned from my husband. And I've learned (though I still feel a little...guilty) to abandon a book if it's going nowhere for me. I once read <i>The Catcher in the Rye</i> for "fun" : I <b>loathed</b> it. And I thought, but this is a <u>classic</u>; I must have missed something. And I read it <b>again</b>! Nope, hadn't missed anything, still hated it. There's no more of that. I've tried 3 times to get through <i>War and Peace</i>; the last time I was more than half-way through. I cannot do it. If I've abandoned a book 3 times at 3 different seasons of my life it's time to throw in the towel. Some people can do this innately; I had to teach myself, to give myself permission to put a book down without finishing it. I have a page at the back of my book journal that simply says DNF (did not finish). I put the title there with a line or two of why the book wasn't for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Through the years I fed many interests and learned much with words. From all the poetry as a girl, confidence-building as a teen, college degree in Bible, other cultures while single, marriage and family, child-rearing and homeshooling, different abilities and love languages. I read my way into the Catholic Church. Books <b>have</b> shaped my life. Let them shape yours.</div><div><br /></div><div> "Ah, how good it is to be among people who are reading."</div><div><br /></div><div> Rainer Maria Rilke <i>Letters to a Young Poet</i></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-79253928878112227882021-07-18T22:31:00.000-05:002021-07-18T22:31:05.647-05:00Thinking the best<p> Recently, I looked into a repeat breast reduction. I absolutely <b>loved</b> the first one; felt good about my body for the first time <b>ever</b>. Never regretted it until it turned out I was unable to breastfeed my babies. That wouldn't have been so bad, except that at the time we were involved in State programs and I was at the mercy of "breastfed-is-best" nazis who thought everyone in the room should know my business. A little hint: <b>fed</b> is best. Anyway, after much weight gain and six pregnancies, my chest no longer looks as it did after my first reduction. I could get another reduction; if I paid for it myself. The insurance wants their pound of flesh - and they want that flesh to be breast tissue. Apparently, I don't have enough tissue. I have...fat. I also have pain, probably from scar tissue from the previous surgery. But nothing can be done about that because the insurance company has parameters.</p>I'm currently fighting a huge yeast infection and urinary tract infection. I'm absolutely worn out! I'm taking four extra medicines, plus pain medication on a regular basis. I keep dropping off to sleep. I've complained so much to my Beloved Bill. Retiring early, it was more of the same. "I just hurt ever where, and I'm SO tired! And to make matters worse, my right breast really hurts and nothing can be done about it because I'm just fat!" I waited a few beats. "I hate my body!" I said this with some expectation. That my husband would hear and give me a reason, ANY reason, why I didn't need to hate my body. Or that he would get off his rear, come to me, and embrace me. Like so many of my expectations, this one went unrealized.<div><br /></div><div>Then I began to think about marriage; always attributing good intentions to the spouse. How often does Bill wear headphones when working at the computer on an especially difficult project? I said my last sentence quietly; he may not have heard me over the fans. And like many men, Sweet Bill compartmentalizes his life. Family and home are in outside "boxes"; easily accessible, more readily moved among. Work and hobbies on the computer are deeper boxes; harder to shake free of. Not as easily accessible and therefore not as easy to shift to another subject. He's a guy. He doesn't always hear me. That doesn't mean he doesn't always love me. And I love him; and the Holy Spirit, Who reminded me to think the best of him. Sweet dreams.</div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-21673073352182424722021-07-13T10:16:00.005-05:002021-07-13T10:20:58.249-05:00Rain in the first world<p> A couple of weeks ago, we got rain. Deluge, build-an-ark rain. The water table was already high; flood warnings out for the nearby Sangamon River. The front stalled above our house and dropped inches of rain. Epic proportions. </p><p>Our basement flooded. The two lowest boards of our staircase dropped; disappeared. Not just under the water - no longer part of the stair. There was now a two-foot drop at the end of the staircase, though we didn't know this at first. Bill went down to explore, scraped his leg badly as his foot dropped into nothing. Bill is prone to cellulitis infections; it was obvious he couldn't go down again.</p><p>My turn. I put on my pink camo rain boots and headed down. Held tight to the rails and cautiously lowered my left leg down into the water. My boot instantly filled. Hmm. These boots are calf-high. Time for a different tack. I backed up the stairs, emptied my boot, and steeled my courage. In swimsuit and water shoes, armed with a walking stick, I tried again. Down the stairs and into the abyss. Shocking cold water. Up to my hips! Oh my!</p><p>It's <b>never</b> flooded this badly before. We have a submersible sump pump and a back-up; neither seemed to be working. In fact, the back-up was also submerged. Worse, the water was half-way up our furnace/air conditioner (which sits in a lower recess) and 2/3 of the way up our hot water heater. Bill had already turned the electricity off to the basement, of course. As I made my way slowly through the water by flashlight, hunched over from the low ceiling, growing increasingly chilled, my throat started to close. I could feel panic rising in my chest as I inspected the damage. I finally turned and rushed through the drag of the water from a full-blown panic attack, banging my head on some duct-work on the way out. The walking stick helped lift me to the now-bottom step, though I painfully wrenched my knee in my haste.</p><p>It took a week or so for the water to recede; but we're still using fans (no air conditioning) and washing dishes and showering in cold water (no hot water). We don't have money at the moment to have someone check the appliances out before bringing them back online, and didn't have a safe way for them to access the machines even if we had the extra funds.</p><p>Enter my parents. More specifically, my Dad. An industrial engineer by trade, he can fix anything. In my naivete, I thought all men had this gift. Bill didn't even bring tools into our marriage. I was gifted a tool kit at one of my bridal showers; we had that and a socket set Bill inherited from a great-uncle that neither of us knew how to use. He has since gained knowledge from on-line videos and we've slowly amassed more tools, however... My Dad is a Godsend. Thanks to him, we now have two sturdy new steps on the basement staircase. The back-up sump pump has been repaired; the submersible sump-pump has been replaced. My Mom has offered great comfort and distracting chatter. They've bailed us out more than once and we love them beyond measure. We thank God for them daily.</p><p>And each time I take a cold shower I think of those who would love to <b>have</b> a shower, no matter what the temperature. Or those who have to carry water; they have no ready tap in the house. I think of my first world problems, and am grateful. </p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-15771141199772869472021-07-11T12:11:00.004-05:002022-04-29T11:44:06.771-05:00Quotes<p> I tried to enter my favorite quotes in a profile today; but the format didn't permit that as a category. So I'll just share them here and there's nothing anyone can do about it!</p><p>The first was on a poster in a Junior-high classroom; though I can't now remember if it was my English or Spanish classroom. It struck my teen-age soul and has stayed with me since:</p><p>"You say that I am mad. Indeed, too much sanity may be madness. But the maddest of all; to see life as it is, instead of as it should be." ---Cervantes, <i>Don Quixote</i></p><p>The second quote I found in the early days of my conversion to Catholicism. I've read this man's books only once so far. He and I go 'round and 'round in my head, for he tells me things I don't particularly wish to hear. Convicting things. I absolutely love this quote; it reminds me what I'm doing in praise and supplication:</p><p>"The prayer of a Christian is never a monologue." ---St. Josemaria Escriva, <i>The Way</i></p><p>What are your favorite quotes? Why?</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-79570963221306904642021-07-11T02:52:00.002-05:002021-07-11T11:23:19.952-05:00Wherefore art thou?<p> Been thinking of Romeo and Juliet tonight. Some people say it's an incredible LOVE STORY, in capital letters. I've always considered it a tragedy. A tale of rebellion, obsession, and suicide. They first defied their parents to even meet each other. That very first rebellion led to their deaths. Some will say, "Yes, but they got to LOVE." Uh-huh. A possessive, obsessive "love"; insular, yet uncommunicative. They <i>killed</i> themselves grasping at that love. They each thought they'd found their <i>soulmate. </i></p><p>Nonsense. You don't just <i>find </i>a soulmate; you <i>make</i> one. There is not one someone out there made just for you; someone with "Your Soulmate" tattooed on their forehead. The only Soulmate made <i>just</i> for any of us is our Sweet Jesus. You're compatible with <i>many </i>people: it's how <i>you</i> view them, how <i>you</i> treat them that makes them your soulmate. Cultivate your <i>own</i> virtues so you can see <i>their's.</i></p><p>You meet someone; you hit it off. Pretty soon you're giddy in love; ready to say "yes" to anything. Most of us get married in that state. Are you soulmates? You think so. The endorphins are roiling; you're over the <i>moon</i> with love and happiness on your wedding day! But it doesn't stay that way. It's too exhausting to wake on top of the world every day. The honeymoon ends and the <i>marriage</i> starts. THAT'S when you begin to make your soulmate. </p><p>In the forge of quotidian duties soulmates are fashioned. You're no longer in a transient, giddy relationship; you've settled into a stable, secure, <i>abiding</i> kind of love. Or should. If you don't get distracted by circumstances, or give up when the road is rough. Some of us go into marriage with an "escape plan" in case our partner doesn't "measure up" over time. This leads to - <i>foments</i> - divorce. A wedding should be a solemn exchanging of a VOW. A heart-meant <i>oath</i> to choose this person and to keep choosing this person day after day. A party on the beach or whatever <i>trivializes </i>that choice. It dances around the Sacrament of Marriage, mocking it all the way.</p><p>Soulmates are MADE in the daily. Working together through children and chores and chaos. Always wanting the best for and believing the best of the other. Couples who cannot do this often decide on a "civil divorce". The very <i>idea</i> is hogwash! Firstly, it's an oxymoron. Divorce involves ripping one flesh into two bodies - there is NOTHING "civil" about that. Secondly, a civil divorce is granted by the State. What has the State to do with love or the lack of it? It shouldn't have anything to do with it. Marriage is initiated in the eyes of GOD; and only He should be the One to end it. His Church will grant an annulment of marriage in a relatively few cases. It does not grant the dissolution of marriage.</p><p>I KNOW that Bill and I are soulmates. We've been through fire together. High-risk pregnancies, the discovery of a mental illness, disability, harsh money woes, too many illnesses to count. And we continue to <i>choose</i> each other. Every day. He's my best hope of getting to Heaven and I am his (he's knocking off a LOT of Purgatory time just doing life with me). We've been through things that could have torn us apart if we hadn't clung to our REAL Soulmate, the ever-living God. He's ever-living <i>within</i> us. That's how we've managed to stay in our marriage for a quarter-century.</p><p>You see, marriage is a triangle. The spouses are at the bottom two corners; God is at the narrow point at the top. As the spouses move closer to God, they move closer to each other. Up the triangle as it narrows. When you find God, you find the other. A cord of three strands is not easily broken (Ecclesiastes 4:12). Romeo and Juliet chose death before divorce. A tragedy either way. But they were doomed from the start; they were missing a Strand.</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-12095939254166380582021-07-10T10:11:00.003-05:002021-07-10T14:17:53.648-05:00Catching up<p> It's been a long hiatus; we've been very busy since 2019!</p><p>Recently I checked out of Facebook; BIG time-suck; too many targeted ads. Yet I just signed up for Twitter. Since I'm an old(er) person, I feel quite savvy right now! I'm hoping (fingers crossed) that it won't compel me to be on devices all day, yet give me news of the world. </p><p>The kids are great! Working or in school (community college - go Cobras). Sweet Bill is, as always, my one and only; my heart. We've had health issues - mental and physical. Monetary issues - oh, the joys of being a home-owner! And a car driver! Plus, seven people on one income...I wouldn't change it for the world! For God always provides, but only, it seems, at the very last minute! </p><p>Even when it's not well with my circumstances, it is well with my soul. I need to do some soul-work, but the Triune God is patient. Thank goodness! I'm a slow Saint-in-the-making. I hope to one day be the patron saint of Hot Messes!</p>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-60703329458830905122019-01-01T06:32:00.000-06:002019-01-01T06:32:44.085-06:00ResolutionsNew year. I don't usually make resolutions; why bother, when they've been forgotten by March and I am left feeling like a failure (again)? However, this year feels different. (Hope springs eternal? Remains to be seen.) In fact, I've made three resolutions! One, I know will be broken from time to time, simply because of illness or flares in the pain conditions I have. The others I hope I may keep.<br />
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1) Dress daily<br />
2) Write 3x weekly<br />
3) Draw closer to Mary, for she will draw me closer to Christ.<br />
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A new year, full of promise, 365 opportunities to do God's will. A challenge I will attempt. How 'bout you?Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-91059815514708092642018-11-19T09:59:00.001-06:002018-11-19T09:59:54.091-06:00The 17th SuspectThe latest Women's Murder Club novel from the prolific James Patterson and Maxine Paetro. Someone is targeting San Francisco's homeless population, but they haven't yet committed a murder in Sergeant Lindsay Boxer's jurisdiction. Yet, thanks to her confidential information, she has been first on the scene to three different murders, leading her to believe her fellow investigators may be padding their hours. Assistant District Attorney Yuki Castellano, meanwhile, tries a high profile assault case that could change legal precedent, if her client is telling the truth. And the search for a murderer is hampered by Boxer's unusual medical symptoms. But her friends are with her each step of the way. This book is just fast moving fluff. I got hooked on this series from the beginning and read each new one when it comes out. The series is basically a soap opera in book form. I kind of hate to admit I read it....Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-7534490208134413352018-11-13T14:33:00.001-06:002018-11-19T09:39:10.347-06:00Island of the MadOne of the Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes series by Laurie R. King. I love this series! I'm this one, Russell and Holmes help an old friend track down a missing, and aunt. Lady Vivian Beaconsfield has spent most of her adult life in one asylum or another since the loss of her brother and father in the Great War. Her mental state seemed to be improving, but she's now disappeared after an outing from Bethlem Royal Hospital (better known as Bedlam). Together, Russell and Holmes search Bedlam to Venice, only to find the increasing shadow of Benito Mussolini.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-12198708438053917522018-11-13T14:20:00.000-06:002018-11-13T14:20:25.549-06:00Vinegar GirlA modern retelling of <i>The Taming of the Shrew </i>by Anne Tyler. Kate Battista is running life for her scientist father and stuck-up sister, Bunny. She also works at a preschool where the children love her but the parents don't. Dr.Battista is close to a breakthrough, but his brilliant lab assistant, Pyotr, is about to be deported. If that happens, all will be lost. So Dr. Battista hatches a plan, expecting Kate to help him. She is furious;it's too much! Yet the very ludicrousness is touching.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-47759701978545112312018-11-13T14:07:00.001-06:002018-11-13T14:07:13.535-06:00Leave no TraceFascinating novel by Mindy Mejia. Ten years ago, Lucas Blackthorne and his father trekked into the Boundary Waters wilderness; and didn't come out. They were presumed dead. Until... a decade later, mostly mute and prone to violence, Lucas walks out. He is put in a psychiatric hospital. Maya Stark, assistant language therapist, is charged with making a connection. She has secrets of her own, and abandonment issues. She's drawn closer to Lucas, and will risk all to reunite him with his father.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-59407001256954573732018-11-13T13:52:00.000-06:002018-11-13T13:52:45.181-06:00The Shadow of the WindA gorgeous novel by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, translated from Spanish by Lucia Graves. Daniel works with his father in their bookstore in Barcelona just after the war in 1945. He is initiated one night into the secret of the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, where he findsa a novel by Julian Carax called<i> The Shadow of the Wind. </i>Daniel loves the work so much, he sets out to find the rest of Carax's body of work. Only someone has been there first, systematically destroying all the Carax books he can find. Daniel must find the truth of his quest which has opened up one of Barcelona's deepest secrets, or those he loves will suffer greatly.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-65771874468273280742018-08-08T11:35:00.000-05:002018-08-08T11:35:29.665-05:00Catholic Writers GuildI was privileged to attend the live conference of the Catholic Writers Guild this year. It is held in tandem with the Catholic Marketing Network and this year was in Lancaster, PA. I am currently working on a memoir of my child -bearing years; over the course of 6 pregnancies I spent 1 1/2 years on bedrest! I also converted to Catholicism, and received 2 medical diagnoses that could have been devastating. The book will tell how we managed and, I hope, be a tool for women put on bedrest in their own pregnancies.<br />
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I learned much at the conference. I signed up for a non-fiction critique group July 31, and really scrambled to get 10 pages of my manuscript ready to go. Arriving at the group, the leaders had no idea who I was, and had not received my manuscript! We agreed O could audit the session. It was God's hand! As I listened to the conversation and took notes, I realized, my work is not ready to be critiqued. It needs real reworking. I intend to join the Guild, join the online non-fiction critique group, and submit my manuscript a piece at a time then.<br />
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The first day of the conference was informative and interesting. I may have found a niche for myself. I wish we could have stayed longer. We took it as a girl's trip, with my mom, two daughters (we celebrate each girl starting her period by including her on a trip: one more daughter to go), and myself. My eldest daughter and I attended the conference; she is a poet. There was a poetry critique group scheduled, however, my daughter was the only signee. She was rewarded with an hour of one-on-one time with the leader, an established poet. An excellent confidence builder for my girl! But my mom had to be home for another obligation, so we had to leave the second day of the conference. And, although there is ample opportunity for Mass, we didn't get to attend this time. We had a lovely time anyway.<br />
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I am now in a fibromyalgia flare because we drove from IN to PA in one day. I can't get my mom to understand my limitations. We did break up the trip back; after 8 hours we found a motel. We were heading to IL and 12 hours driving was a little more than mom could do. So I am in pain and fatigued. Apparently, the conference has been in Schaumburg, IL in the past. Perhaps it will be moved back. Lancaster was difficult to negotiate, we found. Still, a good time.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-5283057475364094172018-07-14T12:08:00.000-05:002018-07-14T12:08:48.016-05:00Wives and DaughtersA novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. I read and enjoyed Gaskell's book <i>North and South</i>, so I thought I would enjoy this classic as well. I was wrong. The pace was slow, for one thing, and I just couldn't be enthusiastic about any of the characters. I can see the worth of the novel, but I finally had to abandon it. A rare thing for me. Perhaps it just wasn't the right time and if I pick it up again someday I'll be able to enjoy it. Perhaps not.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-55384408655931704062018-07-12T10:06:00.000-05:002018-07-12T10:06:39.581-05:00What Happened That NightA gripping novel by Sandra Block. Dahlia is a senior at Harvard, successful and pretty. Then, one night at a party, she is brutally attacked. Her memory of the assault is vague, and she is left with a cold rage. Five years later, she is tattooed as a survivor, working as a paralegal, depending on her gay best friend to get her through the pseudo-seizures that PTSD leaves. Then a video of the attack surfaces online; and her rage becomes white hot. With the help of James, the awkward IT guy, Dahlia vows revenge on her attackers.<br />
<br />
The author describes depression accurately. She also is spot on in her description of a character with Asperger's Syndrome, and what he does to compensate for his differences. I saw the final twist coming, but I am intuitive and at one time made a steady diet of books such as this in my reading life. I still stayed up way too late to read this well-crafted novel.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-11704908114130055042018-07-10T14:18:00.001-05:002018-07-10T14:18:11.482-05:00The Girl Who Takes an Eye for an EyeA Lisbeth Salander novel by David Lagercrantz, continuing Stieg Larsson's Millennium series, translated by George Goulding. Lisbeth Salander has never before had access to the secrets of her traumatic childhood, until now. She enlists the help of Mikael Blomkvist, the editor of the investigative journal Millennium. Nothing will stop her from getting answers about her past; and plenty try. She aids a young woman to escape the brutality of her Islamist brothers; a prison gang leader puts a curse on her; her evil twin, Camilla, tries to chase her down; and there are people who will do anything to keep buried the pseudoscientific experiment known as the Registry. You hardly get a chance to catch your breath in this novel.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-32049125800611477612018-07-10T11:42:00.000-05:002018-07-10T11:42:03.350-05:00Code TalkerA fabulous memoir by Chester Nez, with Judith Schiess Avila. This is history at its best. Nez grew up in the Checkerboard region of the Navajo Reservation of New Mexico in the 1920's. He was given the name "Chester Nez" in kindergarten in boarding school and was forced to speak, read, and write in English although he didn't yet know the language. As a teenager, the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor spurred him to enlist in the Marines (Native Americans did not yet have the right to vote at that time).<br />
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During World War II, the Japanese had broken every code the Americans used. The Marines turned to the Navajo recruits to develop and implement a code based on their native language. They created the only unbreakable code in modern warfare and helped assure victory over Japan in the South Pacific. Chester Nez was one of those man who developed the code and used it in battle. This is his story.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-29906876205454544522018-07-10T11:18:00.000-05:002018-07-10T11:18:28.123-05:00The Good SonFiction by You-Jeong Jeong, translated by Chi-Young Kim. 25-year-old Yu-jin has an odd relationship with his mother. She must know where he is at all times, he must be home in their apartment in Seoul by 9:00 pm, he must take his medication. He simply assumes she worries he will have an epileptic seizure. One morning he wakes to the smell of blood and finds his mother's murdered body at the bottom of the stairs. He feels he has had a seizure, and has only a vague memory of his mother calling his name. Was she calling for help? Or begging for her life?<br />
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The novel covers three days as Yu-jin struggles to recapture what happened that night, and to learn the truth about himself and his family. It's an incredibly bloody novel with a highly unreliable narrator.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-878881918253653818.post-10572684068192647842018-07-09T15:48:00.000-05:002018-07-09T15:48:19.731-05:00IncubationBook one of the Incubation Trilogy by Laura DiSilverio, a young adult dystopian novel. Jax is a researcher at her Kube, trying to discover how to eradicate the locust swarms that plague Amerada. Until she finds out the Proctor of the Kube has been lying to her about her parents. Her best friend Halla has gotten pregnant, if she stays at the Kube her baby will be taken away. Wyck, the boy Jax likes, gets his papers to serve as a border sentry; he doesn't want to serve the Pragmatists in any way. So they run away from the Kube. They head first from Jacksonville to Atlanta to try to find Loudon, Halla's boyfriend, an IPF recruit (the Pragmatist's National Guard). They then plan to go to an outpost. But they come up against all sorts of trouble, eventually ending up in an organization known as Bulrush, an underground railroad for pregnant women to get away from the people who would take their babies.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05956096177069385276noreply@blogger.com0