Can we move on please?

Today I was sent an email with some unforgettable images of the World Trade Centers burning and falling. The email subject line was ‘never forget’. Honestly, how can anyone forget that? Do we really need constant reminders? What about the families that just want to get on with their lives, finally learning to cope with their tragic loss? How are they supposed to do that with things like this flooding our televisions and inboxes?

Don’t get me wrong, I have sympathy for those that were hurt in some way. But Jesus Christ people, when will it be enough? When will we be able to turn on the TV and see a happy story, a good economic forecast or open our email boxes to an uplifting story that doesn’t have us choking on the sappy fake lie someone wants us to believe is real.

I wonder why we don’t have pictures of the devastation from the Battle of Little Big Horn or from the Civil War flooding our minds. There are photos as well as numerous artists’ renderings. Hey, even better, let’s send out mass emails of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Let’s do a television series on all the shitty things we have done to other people. Our society’s gluttony of thriving on other people’s misery is disgusting.

It brings to mind a song I like to listen to. ‘Vicarious’ by Tool. I’ve copied some of the lyrics here. If you get a chance, find the rest of the lyrics online.

 

Eye on the TV
Cause tragedy thrills me,
Whatever flavor
It happens to be
Like:
“Killed by the husband”
“Drowned by the ocean”
“Shot by his own son”
“She used a poison
In his tea
And kissed him goodbye”
That’s my kind of story.
It’s no fun ’til someone dies

Don’t look at me like
I am a monster
Frown out your one face
But with the other
Stare like a junkie
Into the TV
Stare like a zombie
While the mother holds her child,
Watches him die,
Pleas to the sky crying,
“Why, oh why?!”

Cause I need to watch things die
From a distance
Vicariously, I
Live while the whole world dies
You all need it too
Don’t lie.

 

 

HA!

So, I discovered the little ‘blog stats’ thing shows what prompted people to look at my blog.  I knew before that it showed a graph telling me what days had the most hits. But I noticed today that when people do a search for certain things using key words and then visit my page, it tells me. In the last week, I have had 2 hits just from the word ‘hustler’. HA. I find that hilarious. Especially wondering what people might have really wanted to find. Instead, they come to blog where I am shamelessly promoting myself, bitching about the damn minorities in my neighborhood and blabbing about being a whiny bitch. Gee, wonder if they read a bit anyways. J

A dying breed? Not for long.

 

This morning I went to Wal-mart to buy some diapers and other necessities and the fifty-ish checkout woman noticed that I was buying some yeast packets. She looked at them, and then at my 20-something face, my short, purplish hair, and my 18-month-old son in the cart, and after a moment asked, ‘Do you bake bread?’ I replied yes.

With a face and voice filled with surprise, she said, “I don’t know anyone your age who makes bread.”

 

We talked for a few minutes as she scanned my groceries, and I told her that I also can and freeze vegetables from my garden. Since this surprised her as well, I took my opportunity.

“I quilt, crochet, and know how to follow a clothing pattern too,” I said.

She told me her son’s wives had no clue how to cook or clean and don’t want to take care of the children.

It made me sad – not just for her boys, but for mine.

I know there aren’t enough women like my sisters and me and I don’t want my boys to fall in love with a woman who can’t cook, doesn’t want to clean and wants to get a nanny for the children. While I won’t be teaching my boys how to sew a shirt unless they want to, I feel they should know how to cook, clean and do laundry – and that includes ironing. I want them to be able to leave my home with basic skills that too many people don’t know how to do. 

.

I am grateful to my mother, because without her I would not have the skills that I do. My two sisters and younger brother all learned how to cook, as well as sew. While my brother didn’t get too involved with making the clothing part, he did learn the basics and has been known to sew a button back on a shirt or two. I can thank my father for the basic carpentry and plumbing skills. I can change the oil in my car, fix a broken toilet and don’t shy away from the weed eater. I was blessed with parents who passed this knowledge on to me and my siblings. It makes me feel useful.

I could work.

Before having children, I was a well-paid medical professional and could return to a great career. But I enjoy being able to make my son a Halloween costume and have it turn out to his liking.

I get a fantastic sense of pride from being able to grow a garden, make clothing or blankets and fix basic problems around my house. I have a pantry with canned fruit and jellies and a freezer with vegetables from my garden. While it may sound old fashioned, it is actually cheaper in the long run and a whole lot healthier to do home canning. Vegetables from my garden taste different than those from the stores, even the organic ones. They have a bolder, livelier flavor and I am surprised at the washed out taste that store bought vegetables have.

Sewing on the other hand, is a dying art, and while it can cost more than buying outright from a store, the satisfaction taken from making something by hand is incomparable. There are people who throw things away because a button falls off or a seam is a little ripped. Some have difficulty finding clothes that fit their body shape. If they knew how, they could sew that button back on or alter the clothing to fit. Quilting is a time-consuming love affair that gives me a welcome sense of accomplishment and quilts make wonderful gifts.

 

Men are traditionally less likely to get involved with such things as canning and sewing, but some might be interested in learning how to coax a small-yard garden to life or in unleashing latent culinary skills. I know a man who can knit socks beautifully and suspect that there are others like him.

 

It isn’t too late to learn.

My brother’s wife, for example, didn’t know how to sew or replace a button, had no clue how to grow a garden. For her, cans were meant to be drained not filled. Her cooking skills were limited, but she wanted to learn.

Timid at first, she began to ask questions.

Within a year my brother had bought her a sewing machine and she has made quilts for her grandparents and clothing for her friends’ babies. I started teaching her the basics of home canning and freezing, and now she is as excited about the prospect of self sufficiency and making what she needs instead of buying it as I am.

While that may not be everyone’s dream, some of today’s women have never been given even the chance to learn these things.

I have a rare set of skills, yet I know there are others like me. I also know that many want to learn, but don’t know where to start.

A place where we can share the skills we have and learn something new.

A place where a dying heritage can flourish while we use what Mother Earth provides us in a ‘greener’ way.

So, I started Fruits of Tradition. It’s in the beginning stages – look for updates soon!

Morning Pages *warning – bitchy content…

So I have decided to do some sort of morning pages. Just to get me writing. Even if it might be meaningless nothings…

On my way to take Logan to school, I listened to a talk radio station. I have no idea which one it was, I just flipped until I found something interesting.

These guys were talking about immigration. hmmm. A very controversial subject – for some. For me, I think it’s a load of crap that people can just walk into my country, take jobs away from deserving Americans, not even bother to learn the language AND GET AWAY WITH IT. What the hell? Seriously. Because my husband works in construction, I hear a lot about this. 75% of the people he works with can’t speak English. How is he supposed to create a safe work environment when they can’t understand him. He has to spend time looking around the job for someone that can translate. Talk about a waste of time, just to tell someone that they are digging the hole in the wrong damn spot. Some might think that he should learn their language, so that he can communicate. Well, his views are the same as mine – this is America, and we speak English. If you want to live here, learn it.

I sound so bitchy. But I get so sick and tired of the minority shit. It’s bull crap. Maybe a few years ago it was a good idea. But now, I can’t find a single student loan. Why? Because I am a white, married female over the age of 25. Now, if I were a minority, oh, well then – ‘HERE take money from me, please!” There is so much available to minorities it makes me sick. What is worse – I am becoming the minority.  I can’t go to the grocery store and ask someone for help finding something. Why? Because they don’t speak English. I can’t even ask the very large family that is blocking the aisle to move. Why? Because they don’t speak English.

My neighborhood is just as bad. Block parties with circus music playing until late at night. I am afraid to drive my car down my street because their children dart out from behind a car just as I am driving by, totally oblivious to me. Driving around the neighborhood with tiny children in their laps.. What the heck? While I am guilty of moving the car from the driveway to the street while Logan steers, I don’t take a joyride around the subdivision.

I like to think I am not racist. I would just like to live in a country where foreign people aren’t allowed to come in and take over. I would like to see people that agree with me stand up and make a difference. It’s not something I can do on my own.  So, after this rant I feel like I need to find out of there is a local group that feels like I do, and join.