Archive | July, 2008

Out of the pens of babes

My first thought was: Should I be worried?  A friend who’s a mental health professional says, No. Says I should be more worried if she’s drawing faces with no mouth, or no eyes, etc. Weelllllll, okay, I says, marginally convinced.

I put it to the lil’ monkey.

Baba: Wow, sweetie, that’s quite a drawing. Can you tell me what you see here?

Punky monkey: You tell me. [Where the hell does she get that, little smartass. Ooop! Moi.]

B: They look sad to me.  Or angry.  How did you feel when you were drawing this?  Were you upset?

M: No.  This one is silly [points to upper left one, sans eyebrows].  The rest of them are angry.

B: So these are angry people.

M: Yep.  Silly, angry people.

 

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This is what people mean when they say it’s going to get worse before it gets better***

 

An out-of-work truck driver accused of opening fire at a Unitarian church, killing two people, left behind a note suggesting that he targeted the congregation out of hatred for its liberal policies, including its acceptance of gays, authorities said Monday. (AP)

Tennessee gunman targets church over its stance on gay rights (Times UK)

Breaking: Shooting in Tennessee — Knoxville church had just put up gay-affirming sign (Pam’s House Blend)

Found in Adkisson’s Home… the Big Three Conservatives (Pam’s House Blend)

Unitarians oppose anti-gay marriage ballot measures (The Pew Forum Religion News)

National Gay and Lesbian Task Force Responds to Shooting at Tennesee Church (NGLTF)

Deepest compassion to all in the UU congregation in Tennessee, and particularly to the families of the victims.

Seems like every day, the choice just gets clearer and clearer: we’re saved by love, or we’re cooked by hate.  This is the time for everyone who believes in love to take a stand.  

When?  That would be now.  Right now.

Where?  Arizona, California, and Florida this fall, to start.

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Not napping

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notnap4

What are you going to do?

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Grocery list: check. Pint-sized handcuffs: check.

My recent braggy fit about our daughter’s budding literacy might have left the impression that we’ve rushed out and purchased a set of kid-sized Latin flash cards. We are thrilled for her, and cliché-proud, and daily taken aback by what goes on in her feverishly active little brain. But we’re more tempted by the “Good Manners” flash cards (yes! they actually exist!).  Because below that brain lurks a heart, and it’s the heart of a three-and-a-half year old. Which spells F-R-E-Q-U-E-N-T   S-A-T-A-N-I-C    P-O-S-E-S-S-I-O-N. We’re holding off on the Nobel nomination just yet.

Three weeks back I alluded cryptically to a nightmarish shopping expedition. The short version ( “Short version?!” some of you just blurted out, sputtering coffee on your monitor, since you know better than to think you’ll find anything other than the long version at Casa LD), ahem, the shortish version is that somewheres about the canned goods aisle, the lil’ monkey realized something. She realized that when Baba is shopping with her and her little brother, Baba will not stray very far from the cart in which said little brother is parked. It didn’t take her long to draw a connecting line between this truth (Baba is a slow-moving, cart-tethered object) to the realization that she could wreak havoc all over the store, limited only by my will to chase her.

She still doesn’t quite understand what I mean when I refer to my “many paws” (it may confuse matters that I always paw the air when I use the word). But she does know that it means Baba can be guaranteed to chart the path of least resistance, so as to avoid boiling her own blood, or flipping a switch and behaving like an angry monkey at the zoo.

The girlie began testing her epiphany with delicate little forays further and further toward end of the aisle. Finally I called out to her, using the absent tone of a parent unaware of the holy hell that’s to come.

“Punky, sweetie, stay where I can see you, okay?” 

Giggle giggle.

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Comments in a holding pattern this afternoon*

test-pattern

Howdy, LD reader! If you were going to keep your thoughts to yourself this afternoon, great, never mind this note.

If, however, you thought you might have a hankering to engage in dialog here, I need to tell you that a mechanic is (or will soon be, or just finished) tending to the proliferation of hieroglyphics in the archival material.  You know, all this [–] poo that’s been littered all over the place? So that you can’t read through half an old post and not step in it? That stuff.

While the database is in the shop, the comments feature has been temporarily disabled.

We are brightly guardedly optimistic that all will be well as of well in advance of not too much later than Monday morning early this week, at which time I anticipate you will be greeted by not only a fresh new post, but neat n’ tidy punctuation and diacritics way back to this blog’s humble beginnings.

Thank you, and carry on.

* [Later update]

Never mind.  Attempt mounted and then dismounted.  Comments may be back in effect, but then so are the hieroglyphics.  Carry on as if nothing strange is happening around here. Even if it is.

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Weekend bonus shot, 07.26.08

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Cup holder, Berkeley, CA.

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Stop the presses!

Stop the presses our daughter’s a frickin’ genius! (Bet you never heard that out of a proud parent’s mouth.)

And we aren’t the only ones freaking out about it. I think she is, too. Just got a call from the preschool that she is on a hunger fast, and won’t leave the couch, where she has surrounded herself with books.

Why? Behold Fig. A, at right: her rendition of the ALPHABET. (A transcribed Fig. B here, for those of you who, due to your not being our daughter’s parent, might not be able to make the letters out .) It was rendered this morning – are you sitting down? – at about the rate of speed it took her to SING the alphabet. And not sing it like she was on Quaaludes, but rather sing it at a fairly decent clip. You know, like about at the pace that your ordinary three and-a-half year-old would sing it. Yes, your ordinary THREE AND A HALF YEAR OLD. Which means, I’m thinking, she’s not so ordinary. (Or could it be that that she’s ordinary, and our love and pride is, too?  Dang, what a ride.)

I’m also now beginning to think that this roiling sea of thought inside her brain, this slo-mo mental super nova, just might be part of what’s been behind her, shall we call them, behavioral tics latelty.

It’s only a theory, but it is mine. About which (behavioral tics), watch this space on Monday. Hint: the appropriate soundtrack would be Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, from The Exorcist.

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BlogStock, WoodHer, call it what you will

[Mega-long post alert! You've been warned!]

By any other name, this year’s BlogHer conference would be as big a deal. I mean, not as Woodstock. But in the same way. Which is to say, it was a Happening for those in attendance, something that helped to illustrate, maybe even define a moment in our online media herstory.

Many of us have known it already: a hell of a lot of us are out there in the blogosphere writing to and for each other, and the online communities we are participating in — as readers and as writers — are clearly making a big impact on us. This may not be breaking news, but it’s news. BlogHer’s recent study of women’s use of the internet quantified this for the first time: BlogHer’s Lisa Stone’s synopsis of the study here, the findings in PDF format here; and here, the Reuters coverage, “New BlogHer Study Shows U.S. Women Increasingly Shifting to Blogs as a Mainstream Media and Communication Channel.”

The gist is that over 36 million women write and read blogs every week and “approximately half consider blogs a ‘highly reliable’ or ‘very reliable’ source of information and advice about everything from products to presidential candidates.” (From the Reuters re-cap.)

My own wee survey of LD readers a week or two back corroborates this on a micro scale (you can see the results here; use “LDsurveyresults” as your password; if you’d like to take it, please help yourself!). With a little over sixty respondents (at most recent count), over half said that the blogs you read influence your sense of community “somewhat” (this would be: your sense of community as a woman, or a progressive, or a lesbian parent, whatever community your blogs circled around). But another nearly forty percent said the blogs you read influenced your sense of community either “a good deal” or “very much.”

Now I’m no sociologist, and heaven my beloved knows I am not good with numbers. Also, this is a sampling among people already reading a dang blog. But the point is still evident: these things matter to a lot of us, in important ways. You don’t have to be a statistician to believe that over 36 million women online is a lot.

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