When All Else Fails Call On The Gods!

As I sit here in the office shivering, the heat at a minimum to save money and the temperatures outside not to break freezing, I decided to see what they're doing in sunny Cancun at the Climate Change summit.

We know the true believers are having problems since science, real science, tends to debunk their theories. Knowing this I guess it shouldn't surprise me that the woman moderating the discussions called upon a deity to guide them. A female deity yet. Ix Chel. The Mayan jaguar goddess also know as the Mayan goddess of the moon.

When all else fails... I've got to tell you this gal wore many hats in her day. In addition to her cat and moon duties, she was also the goddess of reason, creativity and weaving. Ms. Figueres, said moderator, might just be the goddess of spin. As she herself said, "May she inspire you - because today, you are gathered in Cancun to weave together the elements of a solid response to climate change using both reason and creativity as your tools."

In other words, do what you must to make the argument believable!

Back to Ix Chel, or Lady Rainbow, the insurer of fertility, is also sometimes know as the goddess of catastrophe - the woman who stands by while the world floods. An interesting goddess to call upon for guidance regarding climate change! Her name, by the way is pronounced "ee chell". Put an 'sh' before that ee and you have shee chell or she shall. The question is she shall what? Only the gods know!

On that note I'm off for a few days. Enjoy the break and see you late next week!

Helping Those Who Would Help Themselves!

Sometimes, especially around the holidays, one can easily get tapped out trying to satisfy all the hands that are extended for help. We are inundated with stories about those down on their luck. The Salvation Army Kettle meets you at every store, turkey drives, coat drives, toy drives. I've often wondered why the numbers never seem to decrease over the years. Why an ever greater number of hands are extended.

Maybe we should consider what a few, mostly obscure, people are able to accomplish simply and inexpensively! Last night I was watching the Making a Difference segment on the NBC news. It was about a project called Little Dresses for Africa. Simple little pillow case dresses made by hundreds in this country and distributed to African orphans. Through this program the door has been opened to teach these youngsters about nutrition, hygiene and most of all give them a smidgen of hope for a better life. A future.

The program is now expanding to 'Britches for Boys'. To see those kids in their bright new garb and the joy on their faces is enormously heartwarming.

To take it a step further, a story appeared in this morning's paper about the Krochet Kids , a trio of college boys wanting their own distinct style of head gear for winter sports. They spent their summers in developing nations and an idea was born. Crochet hooks and yarn in hand off they went to Africa.

They found the women had a natural talent for crocheting. They are now paid a wage for a quality product that is being marketed in the United States. You want to talk about hope and change? Pillow cases and yarn. What goes around comes around. Simple. Inexpensive. The result? Priceless.

Restrepo ~ A War In Hell

Restrepo - an outpost high above the Korengal valley in a God forsaken part of Afghanistan. But then their god isn't ours. It was named after a fallen comrad. It is also a film following one platoon for one year - for nothing.

I watched it on the National Geographic channel last night and thought, as I fought back nausea over what these young men were experiencing, that this film was the best depiction of the angst, the horror, the gut wrenching fear and the anger that is war. Without seeing a drop of blood shed. The part of the war that produced it's only living Medal of Honor winner.

The macho personas the young soldiers displayed as they were deployed soon disappeared as the reality of what they were to endure set in. Trying to convince village elders they were "good" guys. People with a language barrier and unbelievable cultural barriers. People who knew their lives were precarious at best from both sides of the fight. A knowledge shared by our soldiers. There was no safe side between the villagers and the Taliban. Who might be a good guy? I watched the faces of the elders as they listened to explanations by the American Captain. There was contempt, there was scepticism, there was cunning and hatred. Not an actor in the world is skilled enough to play either the Afghanistans nor the Americans.

If you want to know what the American GI feels, watch this film. Then follow the links to the entire production. Men who have been to war understand it all. Those of us who haven't don't even begin to, though maybe I now have an inkling. It's hard to watch. It's hard to watch them remember, it's hard to know it will always be a part of them, a part that will never totally heal. It will be a part of their families and friends and ultimately it will be a part of the fabric of our nation. It's good these men are like rugged denim rather than satin or silk.

I thought for a time that the day would come when we'd no longer have men seeking high office that had military experience. Iraq and Afghanistan have changed that. Now I will find it difficult to vote for one who lacks that experience. That experience that remembers the repulsiveness of war totally outweighs it's glory.

Two Parties For Moderates Is One Too Many

The call for a third party in American politics has been long and plaintive. I don't count the Tea Party because it's not a party. It's a movement made up of discontented voters whose most prominent voice is that of Sarah Palin. It was her endorsement that drove some primaries, not theirs. They but followed her lead by voting for a label no matter how outrageous the candidate might be. No, they don't answer the need.

Then came an article in The Wall Street Journal about a group calling themselves The Modern Whigs. I read about them with great interest. Here was an actual organization aimed at being the home of the discontent moderates, regardless of their current affiliations. I signed on so I could have access to what they are doing. So far there hasn't been enough to make them viable as time ticks away toward 2012.

A more recent Wall Street Journal article introduced me to another such effort - the No Labels. Again, I read what I could find about them. They have funding and big names such as Michael Bloomberg. The big names could be a bane or a blessing. The money is definitely a blessing.

Here's the dilemma. I don't want to see them "tea party" themselves by having too many efforts reaching for the same end. A home for moderates.

At this point I don't have to make a choice as to which to support. They are both in their infancy, yet the No Labels seem to have the stronger organization. I have mentioned in previous posts that I felt the Modern Whigs needed a better PR effort to get their name and cause known. A Facebook page does little good if no one knows for what or whom to search. Both are there. Now you know.

I'll be watching and hoping something comes of one of them. I really hope they will talk with one another and somewhere along the line join forces. The common ground is there.

If they want Idaho they'd best begin in the Boise area. There are too few of us in northern Idaho to even gather for a meeting. Aren't there?

He Should Be Thankful It Was Thanksgiving

For years we've had a holiday tradition in this two person household. We alternate who prepares the holiday meals for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Even with two it can be quite a chore. Maybe even more so than for those who gather with family that provide extra hands. We've always managed rather nicely though the more elaborate the dinners became, in a competition we'd deny, one person doing the duties was difficult at best. Especially when it came to getting everything to come out on time. When it was Hub's turn I'd insinuate myself into the process to help do the dishes and utensils used in prep work to save a horrendous mess at the end.

As we've aged and slowed a bit, or had lapses in memory as to where the heck we left the blasted potholders, we talked about changing the rules. One could plan the menu but we would both help with the cooking. It had gone no further than talk until yesterday.

Being my usual generous self, I told Hub to call me if he needed help, fully expecting to settle in on the couch awaiting his feast. I heard maybe 30 seconds of grumbling before he called out, "Here, you can make this dish!" Surprised, I went to see what my chore was to be. The vegetable dish. It was a brussels sprout and butternut squash combination with a vinegrette dressing.

I looked around for the dishes with the prepped veggies, herbs, etc. He handed me a plastic bag full of sprouts and the squash. "Here." Chopped herbs? Measured vinegar, mustard? "The vinegar is in the pantry, the mustard is in the fridge." Okay. We definitely were not on the same playing field!

"How long does it have to bake?" "I don't know! I'm reading the recipe!" I caught myself short of getting short. After all it was Thanksgiving.

Okay, I had to prep the sprouts, par boil them and put them in an ice water rinse. I had to peel, seed and dice the squash, par boil it and put it in an ice water rinse. Fry bacon. Saute shallots, Chop herbs. Make the vinegrette. "Baking time?" "It doesn't have to be baked but I need to time it with what you're doing!"

Let's look at this. The turkey was in the oven. The stuffing was in the oven. We had finished with the appetizers and cleaned up those dishes. We eat in shifts you see. Helps the stomach settle between courses. The dessert was prepared and waiting in the refrigerator.

All he had left was to mash the potatoes and make the gravey! Of course he decided the potatoes had to be peeled at the same time I had to peel the squash. " Where the heck is that peeler!" "We have two. It's in the drawer."

The wonder of it all is everything finished exactly as it was supposed to and was one of the best dinners we've ever put together!

As we finished eating and were sipping the last of the wine I commented on how our kitchen isn't exactly designed for two people working together smoothly without planning. We were constantly tripping over one another. Hub said, "Yeah. When you give me my assignment for Christmas I'm going to make my little corner of the kitchen off limits and have everything I need right there!"

Want to bet? Oh, he'll have his assignment, all right, but if he thinks I'm going to make it easy on him, I'll have to remind him of my inner Grinch!

Oh heck, I probably won't. It wouldn't be in the spirit of the holiday. I just could have used a little forewarning on the changing of the tradition! And when it comes right down to it, tripping all over one another was rather fun and the dinner a mutual triumph! Who needs competition?