Day 23 of the #AtoZChallenge
WTF!
Wait, what? How is this happening?
What does volunteerism mean to you? To the women of the Jr. League of Lancaster (JLL) it means commitment to promoting voluntarism, developing the potential of women and improving the community through the effective action and leadership of trained volunteers. The purpose of the JLL is exclusively educational and charitable.
The women of the JLL are women who lunch, who have kids, who have jobs, husbands or boyfriends or girlfriends, or who are single, who write, or act, or play, who have cancer or eating disorders, whose husbands are sick and they carry the load, whose children get sick, sometimes so sick that they die but who keep going because they know no other way, who have hopes and dreams that they often put to the side to help others with there’s. They are women who show up and put a smile on their face with or without their makeup. Women who do their very best working for some group, some cause, for someone whose need is greater, someone other than themselves, and despite their own lives and schedules and maybe even insurmountable obstacles, they keep showing up.
I am proud to call these wonderful women of the JLL my friends, colleagues and co-conspirators in change, trying to inch the world along in the hopes that we will leave it in a bit of a better condition than where we found it.
So find yourself a group — or maybe come join ours — and keep showing up. It’s amazing what a small group of committed people can do when we work together.
I’ve written quite a few things about the dog and the cats are feeling a bit miffed and giving me attitude as cats do. They threatened to pee in the dog’s water dish. Frankly, I don’t think Apollo would care since I have caught him eating out of their litter box on the rare occasion that they use it. Since they’re indoor/outdoor cats they take advantage of all the perks Mother Nature has to offer. Okay, this is a stretch for “U,” but technically it works so don’t be a hater. Read on…
True confession: I am a reluctant dog owner. It’s not that I don’t want a dog. It’s just that they are so much more work than cats and I already have more things on my wish list than time to accomplish them, but here we are.
When we were kids, my mom had a no animals policy. Read more here…
So my 15-year old calls during her study hall this morning and asks if she can go with a friend to Millersville to see Bernie who is appearing at the Millersville gym.
“Wait, what?” First of all, when did that plan happen and second, these kids are so tuned in they practically know about something before it even happens. But if Bernie’s coming, I’m going, too. I call our friends who we have plans with this evening to see if we should change them and all go to see Bernie. After a lot of commotion and hoopla and gnashing of teeth, we decide that we won’t go — because of the crowds, because the doors open at 4:30p and the event starts at 7:30p and it’s first-come-first-serve basis, and because we don’t have patience to stand around for three hours and wait. My friends did a lot of these rallies back in the day, but I’ve never attended a political rally. I feel like I’ll miss something if I don’t go, and then I remember how much I no longer can stand being in those kind of crowds. We’ll send the 15-year old and have her report back. And then the realization — Bernie Sanders has more energy and enthusiasm than I do!
The day the dog ran away the SPCA got a cool $100 for a half hour stay in their lovely little pet resort. It started like this. My husband was trying a new approach to dog walking. Apollo, our lovely Border Collie/Lab mix would walk/run beside him while Scott road the Segway he’d converted from standing to sitting to accommodate some health issues. The Seqway really zips around because the only feature that’s been changed is the way you ride it. Run away here…
It’s getting a bit harder this post everyday thing, but we passed the halfway point so I’m confident I can do it, although my posts are getting later and later. By the end, I’ll be posting at 3 a.m. So without further ado, today’s post:
Question Authority, especially if it doesn’t agree with your mindset. I’m not saying be disrespectful, or hide in the weeds, or tell lies, or sabotage someone’s vision to get what you want, but maybe ask questions and feel the veracity of the answers. If it doesn’t agree with your own energy then vote with your feet (i.e., walk away). The Buddha said “believe nothing no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and common sense.” It’s doubtful that’s a direct quote from the big B, but because I’m pretty sure the words “common sense” weren’t used in 6,000 B.C., let’s call it a paraphrase. Read more here…
Spare me the OPD — other people’s drama — I have enough of my own, yet OPD is running amuck in our society, taking over the airwaves and the newsfeed and the TV. Think Donald Trump or the whole American political system. Think the Kardashians. We’re sucked in, strung out, hung up, mired down, enabled and enabling. The energy on the planet is cray-cray, to use the modern lexicon for completely batshit crazy, and the more we put it on display, talk about it, and show case it to each other — “Did you hear? Did you hear?” — the more we mirror back the crazy and the more the crazy grows. read on…
The honey bees, our fuzzy four-winged friends responsible for pollination of about 70% of the foods we eat are dying at a rate of about 30% per year and getting harder to replace. The conundrum of the disappearing bees is vexing. We used to keep bees, but two years ago, our two remaining hives died, although that’s a misnomer since they didn’t die, but simply disappeared. Sadly, this is year two that we’ve had no bees. My husband doesn’t want to start again without replacing all of our equipment. He thinks it’s contaminated with pesticides and that any hive that moves into those boxes is destined to meet the same fate as the previous occupants. Read more here…
Peace
Day 15 of the #AtoZChallenge
Peace
With apologies to Warren Zevon, we’ve tried lawyers, guns and money and it hasn’t worked. It’s time for a pragmatic, system-fixing, allomothering contingent of Nanas, Bubbies and Yiayiás to head to Washington before the shit hits the fan. Certainly, they will find a way to bring peace to our ailing nation. More nanas here…
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