How we get around

One of the subjects I've become interested in since my retirement is urban transportation. I have a list of blogs and web sites I check frequently for local and national and even international news and insights. I subscribe to Mode>Shift>Omaha's email notices, I've bookmarked several bicycling web sites (I have a bike now! It's not ride-able yet but once I've got the health stuff behind me I'm hoping to get back in the saddle!) I've said here often that I need to walk more, and take more advantage of our bus system.

Here are some web sites I've found interesting, entertaining and helpful:

Poynton Regenerated - Rumor has it that the construction chaos out at 90th & Maple Streets is going to be revealed, when the dust settles, as a giant roundabout. Single-lane roundabouts are no longer strange sights in Omaha, but somehow the idea of scaling that up to two lanes scares the hell out of people. Big cities the world over have long had roundabouts - usually scapegoated humorously by Americans such as the hapless tourist taking his life in his hands to get across the Place Vendôme. But if they can do it, we can do it. This 15 minute film is fascinating, showing pre-project doubts and conditions, and post-project opinions and benefits. They used a number of known approaches to increasing safety for pedestrians and keeping traffic moving. There is a whole *world* of ways to make our lives better through the design of transportation projects. This is a good video to get your toes wet.

Mode>Shift>Omaha - for citizens to keep up on local transportation issues.

Mode>Shift>Omaha onTwitter (pro tip: you don't have to "belong" on Twitter to read other people's Tweets; you just can't respond to them if you haven't registered. I haven't. I lurk. If I feel the overwhelming urge to comment, I'll send the Tweeter a private email. Doesn't happen often.)

Human Transit - pro planner Jarrett Walker's excellent blog about issues in transporting human beings through their cities and lives.

I love the web site Streetfilms. You get to see videos from cities all over the world about dealing with human transportation issues in humane and intelligent ways. It's inspiring!

Charles Marhon's video dissecting an engineer's video of a "diverging diamond" intersection is an entertaining 10 minutes that will get you started actually *seeing* the kind of insane transportation environment we've all become accustomed to. Marhon's blog Strong Towns is full of insightful discussions, videos and interviews about how people are trying everywhere to make towns and cities about human beings again. He pulls no punches when critiquing his profession's blind spots about designing for people.

There's a lot going on locally in this arena. If you've ever wondered what the heck is going on in Benson - cruise through Omaha By Design's website to find out.

Last October I tried a month-long experiment to see if I could live without a car in Omaha. I didn't make it the full month; read about what I learned, starting with this post.

Getting into a summery frame of mind

I dunno, just had a sudden yen for lemonade and a good book...and a cool place to settle in and laze...I also have my Number 1 Chief Assistant, O'Keefe who's glued herself to my lap. And it's warm and sunny outside giving just right amount of appreciation for the cool indoors...

That was taken on a summer morning.

The red flag.

That's it. You may have to look very very closely before you see it.
A tiny dot.
A tiny RED dot.

This is not a subject I would choose to address in a blog post. But it might be important to someone else so here it is:

If you are a woman who's past menopause for a few years, and you see that tiny red dot in your panties, and if there is no known reason for it - see your doctor. NOW. Put everything else aside, because nothing is as important as getting to your doctor. 

Post-menopausal female plumbing should not bleed. Not at all. Not even such a tiny amount as that itty bitty red dot like the one above. That tiny red dot is your body doing the best it can to wave a gigantic red flag in your face: get help now.

I did, last week, and Thursday I heard those words you never expect to hear: "It's cancer."

So everything else gets set aside and I go to a succession of medical pros, and at this point we know it's Stage Grade 1 endometrial adenosarcoma. ["Grade" and "Stage" are two different things, describing different things. Grade I means it's the least aggressive form, it takes the longest to spread. Until the post-surgical analysis, we won't know what "Stage" it is - this is the familiar "Stage I, II, III, and IV" which tells us how far it has or has not spread]*.  I'm going to get a CAT scan in 3 days that will tell the surgeon more. We know I'm going in for a complete hysterectomy July 13th, and after that they will be able to tell whether it has spread, whether I'll need chemo and/or radiation, exactly what that nasty bugger is doing/has done. 

I was scared until I could see the oncologist yesterday, who would relate to me everything they know so far. I'd have moments of existential dread and despair, alternating with long periods of not thinking about it, going about my usual daily business. 

But the dread is gone now; I know what it is. I know what we're going to do about it. I don't know what will come after that, but I will, as time passes. I have a lot of hope that catching it "so early" (as every one of the medical people I've been to see said) means they can get it all with surgery. I have a lot of hope that even if that's not so, it hasn't gone so far that we can't still kill it with medical science. I even have a lot of hope that if it eventually kills me, I will still be able to remember what an incredibly lucky life I have enjoyed, and what dear, loving and loyal family and friends I have. 

But if you see a tiny red dot, and you know it shouldn't be there - see your doctor NOW.

This isn't going to become a Cancer Blog. I might mention it now and again but I hope to have other more interesting and fun things to post.

My kids gave me a tee shirt before I got the diagnosis. It says, under the atomic symbol:

"Keep Calm and Trust Science."

That's my motto these days.

*I edited this Monday, June 22nd to make it more accurate.

Sometimes you just need to take a break

If your heart is a little heavy maybe this guy catching water in his hands for his goldfinch to take a bath in will ease the soreness a little.

Reality.

Not much has been happening worth blogging about, but stuff has been happening. Haven't decided yet whether to blog about it all. The basic life stuff marches on: trying to keep up with the yard work, carry out my over-optimistic plans (if they're not over-optimistic, what's the point?) for various plantings and features. Also keeping up with just ordinary chores. Family's coming for a visit this week which is exciting and very, very welcome.

But running always behind and beyond any life stuff, good or bad, fun or work or ordinary or exciting, is a kind of ... hum. It's a baseline in the back of my head from ghods know where, childhood or whatever. My lifelong constant background of feeling inadequate, incompetent, not good enough, not smart enough, not Enough enough. And it's exhausting because on top of the energy required to keep the house and the yard and my own interests and friendships and family-ships going there's this 10 Ton weight of Inadequacy I have to haul up the hill, every time.  I don't know what I'm doing, I've NEVER known what the hell I was doing, and I never will and if I don't make a complete lethal disaster out of it (whatever It is) it certainly won't be my doing.

I think maybe I should save up for a week at a spa where you don't have to do anything at all for yourself. Somebody else cooks and serves the food and somebody else does the laundry and there are no decisions and no responsibilities and you don't have to think about anything at all for a week. Sounds good to me.

Fantasy vs. Reality, again

Here's how it works in my head.

Sometime in late April, after mowing the front yard and sweeping all the trimmings up and making everything all neat and tidy out front, I take all the plants I have nurtured through the winter - the geraniums, the begonias, the pretty bright raspberry-red-leaved things, the Swedish ivy, the Pothos that vines so nicely indoors - and arrange them all, biggest to smallest, in the garage after having made a temporary workbench out of the two barstools and a half-size plywood sheet - and gather all the outdoor pots. Gather the potting soil, the compost, the sand, gravel, and stones, the watering can and water...the hand tools...the 1970s-era macramé plant hangers for the two hooks on the front porch pillars. Then I serenely and cooly take the biggest plants (the geraniums) out of their pots and put them in their new ones.  I place them out front on the steps, one, two, three. I go back to the garage and take the Begonias, ivies, and raspberry-red things and put them in the hanging pots, and then hang the pots. The rest of the plants are indoor plants and each will go into the next-size-up pot. All go back into the house to their appointed places. I go out and clean up the garage, the few crumbs of soil and a dead leaf or two. Then I come indoors and have a tranquil cup of tea and read a mice mystery novel.

Here's the reality: It's May 21st. I did mow the front yard, once, a couple of weeks ago. Since then it's either been pouring down rain, or I've been sick, so the dandelions are now on their third generation. Today the mower won't start at all. (Makes me so glad I paid the people $180 for its annual spring makeover! He's supposedly coming this afternoon to figure out what's wrong. Any bets it'll turn out to be my fault?) It's now 4 p.m., and only the hanging pots have been planted and hung and it took me two hours and the garage looks like an entire kindergarten class was let loose in there with the open bags of dirt and the hose. I'm hot and sweaty, covered in dirt, and I'm not at all sure the plants in the one pot are going to survive, after I unceremoniously dumped it upside down when trying to insert it into the macramé hanger.  All of the macramé hangers are now in the trash can. Fortunately I had plenty of 16-gauge galvanized wire, and I cobbled together hangers for those pots. (One of which, it turned out, is broken. I'm hoping the double round of wire under the rim will keep it together.)

Also, so far this spring the back yard has never been mowed. Happily, the grass is on its second generation - free seed! But it's knee-high out there so the first mowing is going to be quite exhilarating.  I mean exhausting.

Also, the mowing front and back really really REALLY needs to be done by tomorrow night because my neighbor - the best neighbor in the world - is having his entire family over for BBQ this weekend. He has 9 siblings. I'm assuming they all have spouses, kids, maybe grandkids, and various others tagging along. I don't want my yard to look like the Neighborhood Crazy Lady's yard.

Hope I can get this done.

UPDATE: 5/21/15 5:25 pm: The lawn mower guy came. He pushed the red primer button 7 times (the manuals says 3, and no one ever told me any differently) and guess what happened.

Go on, guess.

Oh rats, you're right: the sucker started right up.

I'd like to know why he didn't suggest that red button thing over the phone.

At least he didn't charge me for the house call.

So, the front yard's mowed! Tomorrow, the back!

Look up "peace" in the dictionary

This is what you'll find.

Thanks, Mom

My mom's been gone since January 1, 2004. I think about her every day.

Ours was far from a perfect relationship, with imperfections abounding on both sides. But I can tell you what I received from her:

A love of nature.

A love of words, and reading.

A love of humor.

And those three things almost define me. I cannot begin to express how important all three are to me. I cannot imagine what I would have been, what my life would have been, without them. It took me way too long to realize this but I did get the chance to write it down and give my thanks to her for them in a birthday card one year. It affected her deeply. She always said she wanted to be buried with that card. Unfortunately by the time it was needed, she had lost it so I couldn't, but I did certainly reiterate the fact and my thanks as appropriate, before the people who attended her memorial service and afterwards, between just her and me.

You gave me the world, Mom. Thank you.

Never was into history

I only took one history course in college, because I had to have one. Otherwise, it never interested me much.

However, as I approached retirement I started getting fascinated with old - as in, The Enlightenment-era - scientific instruments. They are beautiful. Such exquisite workmanship and details. I thought maybe I could center a post-retirement hobby around those. I started reading up on the history of science -- which almost immediately plunged me into the arts, religion, economy, social structures and politics of those times. It was all interwoven. Go figure. My personal non-fiction library started to grow, and I've checked many books on those topics out of the library (AND returned them, in case you were wondering!)

Following are many of my non-fiction books:

My bedside TBR. Only the Habit book is not related to my interests in history. (Note the four library books - not due yet!)

Only the Chesterton here isn't history, though this little bunch is surrounded with other fiction books. The Walkable City, surprisingly, fits right in with my general interest; the author refers often to European cities and how they've developed over the centuries.

I haven't read all the books in these pictures yet, but I aim to. (Side note: I liked that book The Swerve, but I actively loathe its title. Unfortunately it seems to have caught on in the history academic circles. Bleagh.) The one on the far left is Islam, Science, and the Challenge of History by Dr. Ahmad Dallal, of Yale. I tried to crack that one when I bought it but it turned out to be rather dry and dense. I'll have another go at it sooner or later; the incredibly rich scientific history of the Islamic world is (or should be) fascinating.

These aren't nearly my whole non-fiction collection. I have TONS of books on France, and the French language, and many many books in my favorite subject of biology and other sciences.  Every once in awhile I do a thorough comb-through and purge some but it's getting down to the ones I really want to keep now. Books comprise one of my two big vices. Not sure if that's grammatically correct...

I could never sit in a classroom and read this stuff and have to study it and take notes, pass tests, ugh ugh ugh. But very slowly, my reading is accruing layers. It's always fun when something in a book on astronomy clicks with one I read earlier about painting in 15th Century France, and like that.

Collecting a great gift bag for new homeowners

I have no idea why my brain decided to think about this today, but for some reason I was remembering when we first moved into this house in 1993, and how more than once as we were settling in, I found myself having to make unexpected store trips to get items that seemed SO OBVIOUS NOW but which we'd completely overlooked when planning for our move. So without further ado, here's my list. You may notice it's not full of things like $300 monogrammed bath towels, or solid gold lamp finials. This is down and dirty stuff you find really handy when you're getting settled in your new home.

Oh wait, there is one ado I want to further: My one big hint for making Moving Day less hellish:

When you're packing your furniture, put the beds in LAST, so they're the first things placed in your home. (Know where you want to put them before moving day, too). And take all the clean bedding you'll need in the car with you - don't for God's sake bury it in the middle of the moving van! Then, when the beds have been brought into the house, put them together FIRST THING, and make them up with the fresh bedding. Then proceed to move your stuff. At the end of that exceedingly long day, you will SO thank yourself for fixing up the beds first - they're ready to fall into when you most need them!

OK, stuff for a goody bag for new homeowners:

Masking tape, one or more widths

a box of adhesive bandages, various

microfiber cleaning cloths

a small calculator

rubber bands, various sizes and widths

tape measure and / or yardstick

pad(s) & pencil(s)

clothespins (honestly, these are CRAZY useful in all rooms of the house!)

two or three spray bottles (you can give them baking soda and vinegar, great less-polluting cleaning compounds, too)

used toothbrushes for cleaning grout and crevices

A box of sandwich-size sealable plastic bags, and / or one of big garbage bags,  will always be useful, too.  A few folds of clean newspaper, clean cotton rags, plastic cleaning bucket...use your imagination! You could also get gift cards at the closest pizza parlor for your exhausted and starving new homeowners. 

Now I have to go scrub off all the Martha cooties I feel like I've attracted...

Freedom of speech

Journalist Leigh Phillips has an excellent article on Ricochet about free speech in the aftermath of the Charlie Hebdo atrocities. If you've seen some of the Hebdo cartoons and thought, "Hey, the world *would* be a better place without that shit," you really really

REALLY

need to read this.

Blasted cats!

No matter how recently she's been fed, no matter how long I brushed her fur and murmured sweet nothings in Her Imperial Ear, no matter how few minutes ago it was that I stopped what I was doing for me and petted her for a solid ten minutes - if I put her down on the floor in a fit of exasperation, O'Keefe adopts the Supreme Martyr Posture and facial expression and sits by my chair with her despairing gaze cast down to the floor. Emanating those evil Martyred Cat waves at me, silently. In her mind, she is the Most Abused, Most Starved, Most Neglected, Most Unloved Cat in all the universe. And I am the Evil Mom doing all those terrible things to her. Simply because I refuse to pet her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

SHE DRIVES ME CRAZY!

What -

well, yes, okay, she was the sick one that kept me awake nights about 6 weeks ago because I was so worried she was dying - or worse, I'd have to decide to have her put to sleep.

What's that got to do with it?

It appears that

a couple of people have somehow, miraculously, stumbled across my blog! So I thought I'd better post something. The freshest thing I have is that I finished reading The Girl on the Train by Paula Dawkins last night. It's on our local library's Mystery Book Club list soon, if not next meeting, so even though I originally requested it because I'd read a review, now it also saves me from having to say about Yet Another Club Selection, "I didn't read it." (There have been some problems with the list. They're getting straightened out. I am not the only one who's rejected The List.)

Anyway - I spent most of this book being really irritated with the main character. As in, if I wasn't bloody well DETERMINED to finish a damn book for the club, I probably would have quit somewhere about page 100. This is a personal thing (of course) I mean it's not because it's not well-written - it is *very* well-written - and it's not because the plot didn't make sense or was inconsistent or unbelieveable. The author did a terrific job, actually. She also used multiple points of view but the changes were clearly marked, and she used present tense which should have been distracting, but it wasn't at all.

No, it was me, and it's a fault I recognize in myself in real life, too: I don't like spending time with people who have character traits of my own which I also hate. This probably isn't unique to me. And maybe my irritation with them is a sign that I really need to work on myself a lot more. (I can hear you: "Ya THINK?")

Also, I'm not someone who tries to figure out the solution to mystery novels. I just go along for the ride. I mean, if I figure out whodunnit, the author has made it thumpingly obvious. In this one, I did NOT see the answer coming. I think I said out loud, "Well damn."

So I can recommend this book because it's very well-written, I think it's a good mystery, and the problems I had with it I believe are all my own. Go for it!

What is it about NaNo...?

Once again, NaNoWriMo has sucked me in. This time, it's April's Camp NaNoWriMo, wherein you can set your own project and word count goals - well, technically November's NaNo doesn't have power over you, you could set your own everythings there, too, but when I participate in November I go by the original rules.

In this one, I'm not. I'm working - rather, re-working - the novel I failed to finish in November 2013. It has bugged me ever since because I really like the thing. So I'm giving it a second chance, I'm just not doing up the whole big NaNo rah-rah thing, enlisting a "team" of friends to prod and praise me along the way, etc etc. Just trying to do it ... um, well, I haven't been doing it for the past three nights so I should really get off this thing and Just Do It.

But what is it about NaNoWriMo that's so compelling? The years I skip I feel guilty and like I'm missing out on something at the same time. There's that almost-irresistible pull...OK. Off to WRITE!

Should have put this in the previous one

But I hadn't run across the Book Riot piece that made me think of this: do you keep a list of your favorite words? Maybe a tiny piece of paper tucked in the back of your wallet, or a sticky note on your laptop desktop...in your diary...or just in your mind?

I have just a handful that I've thought to write down, and remember. Here are some of mine:

leafy

niggle

plausible

(And no, the first two weren't inspired by Tolkien; they were on my list long before I remembered that story I read 35 years ago.)

I really, really love "leafy." And I'm lucky to live in a leafy neighborhood! (Means tons of leaves in the fall but that's OK, too.)

Doesn't look like this right now, but it will before long! I have to believe it will become Spring for real, any day now!

Took an online quiz...

Can't get the results panel to show up on here correctly so I'll just paste the text...and I see the background now extends over to the right side column - however, it's readable so I'll settle for that. Yes, I am that determined to brag. LOL

You Have Mastered the English Language!

You either aced this mock-exam or got a lot more right 

than you did wrong, either way - Color us impressed! Your

 knowledge of the English language extends beyond a

 solid foundation of grammar and spelling, and into a 

finer understanding of syntax, diction, and rhetoric. 

Reading comprehension is also something you're skilled 

with, something most who are take for granted. Try to 

keep those grammar-based pet peeves in check whilst 

sharing your vast knowledge with the rest of the world!

Jupiter and Europa

NASA photo, my dialog

Hittin' some yard sales

Well, actually, an estate/moving sale and a garage sale, but anyway. It was my exercise for the day, a mile and a half (I was surprised it wasn't more - but then it was very hilly). I scored 7 Cherry Ames books (sans dust covers, and there are two of one title - that'll teach me to read the titles before scooping them up!), a tiny bird book that's lost its cover, so I'll have some fun re-covering it, a box cheese grater, and a brand-new 6" x 6" sketch book. That ate up my $10 cash. Walking to sales is a really good idea - not only is it good exercise, it keeps me from buying a lot of things, or any big things.

Still chilly here - 45° - but sunny and breezy. I heard my first cardinal of the year, but could NOT find the bugger even though there aren't any leaves on the trees yet. He was laughing at me, I'm sure.

At one curb I noticed what seemed to be an over-abundance of official markings: the concrete curb itself had been embossed with the contractor's name; there was a "this drain leads to river" disk, and right next to it was a manhole cover over a storm sewer access shaft. The cover was iron, with the Seal of Omaha:

I stood and stared at this for several minutes, trying to figure out what all the various images mean. But it's the one in the center that baffles me. It seems like it *should* be a buffalo head, but what's that object running down the middle of it? In white in this image - stamped in iron it just looks like a blob. Could be a not-quite-stuffed bag of wheat, maybe? I can't figure it out. Yay, city symbols!

In the rule book, right after

the rule that says the trainee grocery checker who's been holding up 13 customers for 15 minutes gets switched for the fast, experienced checker immediately after you move to a lane with a longer line, is

the rule that says the day after you bookmark a new blog because of a brilliant post you found through a favorite writer, the brilliant blogger walks away from their blog and forgets all about it for six months.

Yeah, I know privileged First World problems. I don't think of them as problems, though. If I remember, and try, I can relax into the thing and enjoy watching the people in the slow lane, and delve into the brilliant blogger's Archives and get to know more about them.