Tuesday, October 30, 2007

It breathes me.

A saying in yoga about how to imagine breath entering you from the universe: “It breathes me.” You are to picture the universe breathing you, instead of the other way around. Try it—it’s amazing.

Anyway, I feel the same way about fall: it breathes me.

Something about it makes me more open to moments of delight. Fall was breathing me while I watched 4-year-old dance to his new favorite tape. Which happens to be “I Wiggle My Torso” by Janeen Brady. Anyone else grow up on Brite music? I remember being so resentful of the evenings my mom spent away from home because she was selling Brite music in home parties like Tupperware. But I’d say all those nights without her were worth it for me to have the joy of watching this kid with his fuzzy headed buzz-cut “wiggling his torso” to the beat. ("I clap my hands; I stomp my feet; I wiggle my torso and then I repeat. My hands, my feet, my torso once more--jump up, turn 'round, then fall on the floor.")

And I ate heavenly homemade carrot soup for lunch. And homemade salsa with my chips. (Just some other examples of fall breathing me.)

Here’s the recipe:

Carrot Chowder

Brown 1 lb. hamburger. (I was thinking today that this could probably work really well with black beans instead of meat.) Drain fat, then add:
½ t. salt
½ t. garlic salt
½ t. pepper
1/3 c. chopped celery
½ c. diced green peppers
1/3 c. chopped onion.
Cover and simmer on low until veggies are tender (10 min.). Meanwhile, combine in a large saucepan and bring to a boil:
1 ½ c. water
4 c. tomato juice
2 cans cream of celery soup
2 ½ c. grated carrots
1/8 t. marjoram
1 t. sugar.
After it comes to a boil, add the meat mixture and simmer for 30 minutes. Serve with grated swiss cheese on top.

Tastes like fall in a bowl. Tastes like heaven.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Vouchers, again

P.S.

Some people say that vouchers are good because “a free market improves quality for everyone.” To that I say: wasn’t it a “free market” that created child labor? and mass pollution from factories? Even now “free market” means sweatshops in China and elsewhere to support our Wal-mart low prices. Free market is not always good for EVERYONE.

“OK then,” you say, “I mean, free market with some government-imposed standards.” Fine. That sounds reasonable, especially since government will be subsidizing them. Only let’s impose the standards fairly and unilaterally.

A true free market in education would mean that EVERY school would require teachers to be licensed, to meet certain standards, and to pass background checks. And EVERY school be required to accept whatever student wanted to come there, regardless of ability to pay, regardless of baggage they might bring like learning disorders, handicaps, behavior problems, poor parental support. Even regardless of inability to get, physically, to the school location. Let’s make it a true free market and require every school to bus their students who live too far to walk (and, if the student needs a special handicap bus, require that, too). I’m talking FREE buses, folks. (Oh, but then the parents who can afford to drive their kids will whine. I know! Let’s give them transportation vouchers!)

Saturday, October 27, 2007

School Vouchers (wince)

Most of my loyal blog readers do not live in Utah. You might be aware, however, of the steamy fight going on over school vouchers. We will have a chance to vote on this topic next week.

I’d like to work out my opinion about vouchers here because I can think more clearly through writing. I don’t, however, want to crusade. I am deeply uncomfortable with animated, two-sided, engaging discussion when it comes to political issues. (Which is silly because I love it when it comes to literary issues.) Maybe because I feel more deeply than I can articulate about some issues. Probably it is from a basic insecurity because I know so little about political things and am terribly naïve when it comes to analyzing solutions. What I’m saying here is that I do not mean to try to persuade anyone. I don’t mind if you disagree with me, and I won’t try to change your mind. But this is my blog, my forum, and I don’t want to host a debate here. If you disagree with me, feel free to e-mail me privately (daryoung at yahoo dot com) and say why. The response you’ll get will be a polite thank you. I will most likely not read all of the documents and web addresses that you include in your argument. I am going to selfishly use this forum to state my position and then not let anyone argue with me here.

So sue me.

I am against vouchers. I’m going to try to articulate why. (And by the way, I need to tell you that my husband does not necessarily agree with any of the following.)

First, I am basically a democrat at heart, at least economically. Which means that I believe that it is the moral duty of a citizen to contribute to society—yes, in the form of taxes—for the good of others in the society who are not as able to take care of themselves. (I think, for example, that to cheat on your taxes, or to bend the rules on your taxes, or even to cleverly hide assets in “legal” ways in order to avoid paying your share is unethical and, frankly, dishonest.) I feel that it is my job as a Christian to look out for my neighbors—even the ones who seem to be lazy (because, maybe, their parents didn’t teach them to work?).

I feel it is our duty to make sure that not just our own kids but the kids of our neighbors should be taken care of. This includes all those kids on the west side that are such a drain on the property taxes of “us east-siders.” That includes the kids whose parents don’t care enough to research public and private schools and use vouchers to make sure their kids get what’s best for them.

If the voucher proposition passes, every child whose parents care about him will be put into the school, public or private or home-based, that his parents think will be best for him. But what about the kids whose parents don’t care, or who are overworked or undereducated enough not to be able to research what’s best? They will be left in the public schools. These kids are often the ones who use the most resources from the education system, in the form of teacher energy and other, more measurable resources.

And that’s an important point: not all children use the same amount of resources at a school. The amount that the school board reports as being your child’s share of costs is an average number. Actually, your child uses a lot less of that amount. The excess goes to pay for the children of other parents—ones who require more resources. Those kids will still be in the school after you take your money and leave. (But, you argue, the money I’m taking is extra. The school won’t lose money on my leaving. Au contraire. After a few years that money will be gone and it won’t be replaced.)

A common attitude is “Why shouldn’t I be free to do what’s best for my kids with my own money?” I’m good with that. What I don’t like is what you want to do with government money. And the point is that the money that’s been allocated for public education should be used just for that: to educate the public. Because I don’t care whether you’re homeschooling, private schooling, or childless: you are directly affected by the quality of education that OTHER PEOPLE’S KIDS are getting. Your society will suffer, and that suffering will influence you, if you do not support quality education for ALL kids. These are the kids will raise the kids will run the country when you are in old folk’s homes, people.

Besides being the Christian thing to do, it is IN YOUR BEST INTEREST to look out for the best interest of ALL kids, not just yours. I do not see how some—many, even—will be left behind in the voucher mess that will come about after this.

(And of course, if this passes, there will be more messes around the corner. What about when the homeschoolers start asking for vouchers as well? What about monitoring the quality of education that will come to kids whose parents start homeschooling just to save money? Where will the money come from to monitor them? What a mess.)

And to all you strict Repulicans who believe that when we leave more money in people’s pockets they will naturally, out of the goodness of their hearts, continue to contribute charitably in ways they think are appropriate, I ask: how many of you plan to donate money to public education once you take your voucher money and kid out? Really, will you double up on your property taxes just to help out the kids who were left behind?

My other big reason for being against vouchers is that I don’t believe that it is moral to whine that a system isn’t working and then jump ship. I think the right thing to do is to fix public education, not abandon it. People who are unhappy should join school boards, volunteer in their schools, lobby for more and better asset allocation within districts, etc. If all of the caring parents start jumping ship, it will sink. And, once again, what happens to the kids left on the ship?

I don’t know a single public schoolteacher who is in favor of vouchers. And why is that? You’d think that they would recognize that more private school students means more job opportunities for them, right? Well, it probably does. But the reason is that the kind of people who are choosing to become schoolteachers these days are doing it for only one reason: they care about education. There is NO other reason a person would become a teacher in this world. And the people who really care about education in society (not just about their own kids’ educations) know that the voucher system is not good for society.

There you go. I’m glad I got that off my chest. I will now duck so that your tomatoes don’t hit me.

p.s. In case you’re still with me: some of you are wondering what I think of the latest AML fiasco. I’ll post about that. . . once I can do it without profanity. Sheesh!

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Fall


Thin, wide light.
A clean porch.
The smell of leather, books, blankets on a favorite bed.
Cold ears and warm toes.
Falling asleep.
Soup and bread, kitchens and fireplaces.
Returning.
A deep breath.
Continuous meditation.
It tickles the corners of my eyes.
A cat in a patch of sun on the livingroom floor.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Psssst . . . guess what?

I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!
I wrote a novel!


So there!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

What's the line between compassion and despair?

Yesterday I was at the hospital for another test. I am getting very familiar with the hospital, at least the waiting rooms.

For this test, I had to drink some special potion mixed with orange juice and then stand in front of an x-ray every 30 minutes for 2 ½ hours. In between my appearances in front of the camera (standing room only!) I could wander the hospital at will—or read. I read a lot and finished my book. I also did a lot of wandering.

I’m a people-watcher and find that hospitals are very moving places to watch people. People at hospitals are just bursting with stories (as are people at airports). With everyone who walked into the radiology waiting room I asked myself whether s/he was seriously ill or just mildly chronically ill, like myself. I wondered if they were frightened, confident, resigned, crazy with worry, depressed about what their bodies were doing. I wondered if they were surprised to realize that they had been taking their health for granted before now (like me) or if, like me, they began to think of all the people who WEREN’T at the hospital that day because those other people felt perfectly fine.

I saw a lady in obvious distress, doubled over in pain. Her daughter was there with her and I thought about the times I was with my mother when she was sick. I hope her daughter feels the same way I did—a tiny satisfaction at being able to be a giver to someone from whom she’s always been a taker before. I saw a young mom struggling with a toddler and an infant. The infant was coughing a menacing cough and about to get an x-ray for pneumonia. I remember those struggles. There’s nothing more heart-wrenching than thinking your baby might be quite ill, and to have to juggle a two-year-old on top of that was more than any mother should have to deal with. I saw a young boy who had broken his hand playing basketball, accompanied by his overworked father who had to leave him alone in the waiting room to make business calls in the hallway.

To get away from my pain on everyone’s behalf, I wandered down the hall and found a little room called the “chapel.” It mostly had couches and soft lighting but in the corner was a book in which people passing through had written their thoughts. Very personal, painful thoughts. I read one woman’s anonymous letter to her dying husband. I read the words of a couple who had written from the chapel during a time when their infant was in critical care and might not survive. There were other writings from similarly frightened people seeking solace. I read them all and sobbed and sobbed.

I can’t believe how my illness has made me so sensitive to the physical ailments of others. If someone happens to mention that they’ve got back pain or stomach problems, I immediately feel for them, quite deeply. And add them to my prayer list.

I’m starting to wonder, what is the point of this? I believe that it makes me more godly to feel more deeply. But I’m not sure I’m feeling the way God would about these things. At least, I’m not sure it’s leading to good, either in my life or in anyone else’s. Does anyone benefit to know that I am truly, deeply touched by their suffering? I don’t know. Unfortunately, though I have gained compassion and empathy/sympathy, I have NOT grown in ability to know how to relieve suffering. So what’s the point?

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Takin' it as it comes.

So the kids have been back in school since July (with a break last month) and #4 and I are pretty used to hanging with each other. One thing never ceases to amaze me:

He just takes it all in stride.

Every day the boys set off for school and he waves cheerfully to them, then turns to me without flinching. As the day goes on, he placidly accompanies me wherever I drag him to, only occasionally complaining (and that’s only when he’s overtired or hungry). He doesn’t seem to mind at all that he is stuck with me, day in and day out. He happily amuses himself around the house while I work, or asks me to read to him or play to him. But it is mind-blowing to me that he really doesn’t seem to mind that his universe is pretty much him and me for most of the day. It gives me more insight into what “childlike” means. What if I placidly took whatever came to me throughout the day, without judging whether the people I’m stuck with are cool or not, or whether the activities I’m doing are worthy of my intelligence or fun or even interesting?

I have to say that my latest endeavor (the novel) has actually helped me in this respect.

I’ve always been very irritated when I hear other women say, “I have to work outside the home. I’d go crazy if I didn’t. I’m a better mom because I do.” But, as I’m starting to suspect is going to happen over and over again in my life, the exact thing that I walk around being proud of not participating in is the thing I find myself up to my eyeballs in. In other words, I’m eating my words. Because I have found that since starting my novel, I have been a better mom. I feel this weight each day to get my minimum word count in. Hating the weight, I do it early in the day. And then the rest of the day I feel so free. I find myself getting all sorts of odd jobs done that have been bugging me for months. I find myself coming up with spontaneous ideas for fun with my little buddy. I find myself more serene when the others get home from school, more present with them.

Witching hour is still witching hour, alas. But the rest of the time I am doing better and better. I like myself more when I have a big old writing project going on. Would it be the same if I were working? Probably, if it was work I loved. And if I didn’t feel it took too much away from everybody. So far, this hasn’t, and I’m really enjoying myself.

I broke 20,000 words today (23,000, to be exact), by the way. Tomorrow I’ll hit the halfway mark. Which concerns me, because I think, plot-wise, that I am more than half-way through. It’ll work out, though.

Meanwhile, if you’re still hanging with me, here’s your reward: another recipe for fall. This one comes from another blog-reader, my sister-in-law Jennilyn, homemaker extraordinaire. At least, I THINK I got it from her. Sounds like something she’d make, anyway.

Pumpkin Pancakes

1 c. flour
½ c. cornmeal
2 t. baking powder
½ t. cinnamon
½ t. ginger
¼ t. ground mace (I usually don’t have it so I throw in cloves)
¼ t. salt
¼ c. brown sugar
1 t. orange or lemon peel, grated (I sometimes use juice instead)
1 lg. egg
½ c. pumpkin
½ c. milk

Mix dry ingredients. In separate bowl, whisk wet and combine. Cook over med. heat, 3 T. at a time, 2 min. per side.

These always turn out really dense, almost like little muffins, so I often dilute it with extra milk.

Serve (and this is the magic) with sautee’d apples and cinnamon. At our house, we also put whipped cream on them and yes, we count it as dinner. (By the way, I’m gaining back the weight I lost when I was so sick. Oh well. I said I wouldn’t complain if I got the weight back with my health. And I won’t. [dang])

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

18,796

Isn’t that the most beautiful number?

Since you are dying of curiosity about what makes this number very significant, I will tell you.

It is the number of words I have written on my novel.

Yes, now that I am well into Week Two and have broken the 15,000 mark, I feel it is safe to announce to the world that I am writing a novel. I began it, at least this version of it and with this level of seriousness, on October 1 as part of a challenge to myself to complete a novel in a month.

Some of you have heard of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and know that the official month for doing it is November. I couldn’t wait that long. And besides, I wanted to relax and rejoice over the holidays. So I committed to writing 1,667 words per day for each day of October. At this point I figure that I have done it this far and survived so I am most likely going to finish. So I am going public.

It is way exhilarating, I tell you.

And it is having other effects. I am experiencing lots of ideas for other things I want to write, and having to put scribble down notes for later down the road when I’ve got this vulture off my back. But I like the increase in messages from my subconscious that comes when I am committed to writing every day. As I recall, this happened to me also when I was doing the poem-a-day-for-thirty-days project in the spring.

Anyway, while my mind is occupied elsewhere, I’ll leave you with a little fall recipe. Fall is the time when I start getting excited about baking and cooking again. Here’s my first fall treat. I got this recipe (which was very popular at a recent AML Board meeting, BTW) years ago from my probably-oldest friend and loyal blog reader, Marjorie. (Not to imply that you are the oldest of my friends, Marj. But maybe the friendliest.)

Marjorie’s Apple Cake

Blend:
1 c. sugar
1 egg
¼ c. shortening (I melted it)
1 ½ c. grated apple

Add:
1 c. flour
¾ t. cinnamon
¾ t. nutmeg
1 t. soda
½ c. nuts (optional and let me tell you they would NEVER go into a cake of mine)

Bake in ungreased 8” square pan at 350 for 30 minutes. Serve topped with butter sauce.

Butter sauce:
1 square butter (1/2 c.)
½ c. sugar (I usually do a little less)
½ c. canned milk

Heat in saucepan until thickened but don’t boil (abt. 10 minutes). Add ½ t. vanilla and a dash of nutmeg.

This would be the perfect treat for me to make for Angela, who, I must be allowed to brag on her behalf, JUST WON $500 IN A FICTION CONTEST!!!! But I am too consumed with envy to bake her anything today. Besides, she should be BUYING ME A TREAT since she is so wealthy now. (Congrats, Angie.)

p.s. Speaking of fall recipes, if you're reading this, Aunt Joanie, I've GOT to have your recipe for zucchini cake. That was so divine. I'm sorry for eating all of it. But not really.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

"Death is everywhere . . .

. . . there are flies on the windscreen, for a start."

Yesterday was really, really depressing. Here are some reasons why:

1.) Earlier this week my kids came back to the house five minutes after leaving for school to tell me there was a “hurt kitty on the street.” Luckily, it wasn’t ours. Unluckily, it was someone’s. Or it had been someone’s, before it died. It was lying in its blood in full view of all the kids walking to school. I went out and investigated, then called my neighbor whose cat I knew it must be. I said, “I hope I’m mistaken, but I think your kitty is out in the street hurt.” I couldn’t bring myself to say “dead.” Of course, the kids have been asking about death ever since.

2.) Roger called to say that a coworker of his, who had been sick off and on for years, hadn’t reported to work in a couple of days. They finally called a relative to go check on him. He was dead. We don’t know any more details than that, but it seems that he probably died alone. This thought is so unbelievably depressing to me.

3.) #3 threw a huge tantrum in the morning that carried over to the walk to school, during which he refused to walk with his brothers. Worried that he would be left behind (and his quite tiny), I stepped outside to watch them make their way down the street, and saw that it would be necessary to accompany him to school. Luckily, I was out there watching because I saw a strange car drove past my kids very slowly one direction, turned around and came back past them, then pulled over and stopped. The driver held up a device (cell phone? camera?) to the window towards MY KIDS. Now, they just happened to be in front of a house that was for sale, so it might have been innocent. But I was watching very closely as I jumped into my car and backed out to catch up with them. He drove off. I got his license number and called the police.

3.) The police were very nice. I had to leave before they pulled away. When I got back, I found a nice notice from them that we were in violation of a city ordinance because our parent’s motor home, parked in our driveway, jutted out past the line of the house. Made me laugh because right next to the motor home, in the neighbor’s driveway, is a junker car that has been there for two years (major violation). The motor home had been there for two days and was going to be moved next week.

4.) #4 raced his scooter down the driveway and into the street, avoiding BY INCHES I TELL YOU being hit by distracted teenager who must be dyslexic because he thinks the speed limit says 52, not 25. I looked at my baby and thought about that cat in the pool of blood . . .

5.) #2 brought home a less-than-satisfactory report card. Now, I don’t care about grades, but I do care about people who perform below their ability because they are in TOO MUCH OF A HURRY TO PLAY WITH THEIR BUDDIES to actually read directions and write with readable penmanship. So I was angry. And I handled it in absolutely the opposite way than I should have. And I am utterly disgusted with myself about it.

So I was ornery and depressed (hating myself) all evening. Blech. Glad to see that day get over with and start fresh this morning.

And, by the way, I am way, way looking forward to General Conference. As always.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

My problem with the Footprints poem

Today I'm blogging over at Segullah. Click here to find out why I don't like the Footprints poem.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Bouquet of fall leaves for you

Here's my valentine to all you fellow 80's alternative rock fans, custom-designed to make you grin on a bright fall day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AsNTmjlf1vI

Those opening chords always wash like a wave of delight over me. I especially like the violinist.

Monday, October 01, 2007

. . . and there was great rejoicing in the land.

Just wanted to share a few pockets of joy from today:

1) We were driving under the skywalk over Bangerter Highway and #4 asked how people get up there. So I parked the car and took him. It's made the highlights video of my life, watching that little four-year-old face up there above the world.

2) Don't you love being able to expose your kids to things you loved as a kid? Today my kids saw their first Muppet Show. (They've seen the movies, but no shows.) They couldn't believe their parents knew all the words to the opening song ("It's time to get things started . . ."). And get this: one of the episodes we got from the library had guest stars Mark Hamil, C3PO and R2D2 (who hijack the pigs' spaceship to rescue Chewbacca). C3PO actually tap-danced. Can you just picture that little family room with four boys glued to the screen? Feel the love, people. Feel the love.