SOME THINGS GREAT AND SMALL

WELCOME TO FLORIDA

2011-05-18T17:46:00.000-07:00

Governor Rick Scott has a million of ‘em . . . jokes? NO! Not a jokin’ around man our Gov. These are Special deals for Special folk - corporate type folk, that is. His latest little "gimmick" is the "WELCOME TO FLORIDA" sign with his name on it. It should say: "WELCOME TO FLORIDA, CORPORATE AMERICA; HAVE WE GOT A DEAL FOR YOU!" And, I believe it should be posted alongside another sign that reads: "GOODBYE, LOSERS - TEACHERS, STUDENTS, ELDERLY, UNDER-EMPLOYED AND UNEMPLOYED. DON’T LET THE DOOR SMACK YOUR BEHIND ON THE WAY OUT!"

Were the Florida voters asleep when this man was elected? And are we still sleeping? Something needs to be done! In a very short time, he has managed to cut jobless benefits and Medicaid reimbursement rates, and passed nearly $4 billion in budget cuts that will result in the lay-off of thousands of teachers and government employees. Not one bill has been passed to create jobs, which was what he promised to do when he campaigned. The cuts to Medicaid Reimbursements affect our elderly in a big way - and not in a good way. Nursing homes are losing their Medicaid reimbursements to the tune of $180 million – but not to worry because at the same time, a bill has been passed which lowers the minimum number of hours of direct care that homes have to provide for their residents – in other words, we’re giving you less money with which to care for your residents, but you will be allowed to spend less time caring for them.

And how about education? Have we lost sight of the fact that our children and grandchildren will be America’s leaders in the not too distant future? Don’t you think we should provide for them the best teachers and schools so that they will receive the kind of education they need to become enlightened citizens and leaders of a great country. It boggles the mind to know that we can raise incomprehensible amounts of money to fund a political campaign, but we can’t come up with enough money to keep our schools open or pay our teachers a living wage. Potentially great teachers choose careers other than teaching because they (who knew?) need to be able to pay their bills and put food on the table. When did we decide that paying less taxes was more important that educating our children and insuring this country’s future?

Oh, and yes, our illustrious Gov. returned a basketful of $$$$ to Washington, depriving Florida of high speed rail and the thousands of jobs that would have been created through that project . Way to go, Gov. – creating new jobs and all.
Time to wake up and smell the stench! Something’s rotten in Tallahassee - and it isn’t fish.
"WELCOME TO FLORIDA - WE USED TO BE PROUD"

LIFE IS GOOD - TODAY

2011-05-01T07:50:00.000-07:00

Today, I am home trying to recover from a nasty bronchial infection - being sick makes you realize how wonderful it is to feel good!

Being sick makes you slow down enough to see the beauty that surrounds you. The tree is so lovely, but taken for granted day in and day out. Yet it never complains; just continues to provide cooling shade, nesting and perching opportunities for the little feathered singers who do appreciate it, and indescribable beauty for me to enjoy.

Being sick allows you to contemplate all the opportunities that are available for you to consider as well as all the things that need to be done that you have been meaning to get to one of these days. Also, just sitting and listening to the radio - I had almost forgotten how much I love "Prairie Home Companion" with Garrison Keiler. What a wonderful program.

Being sick allows you to relegate all the "cares" of the world to the back of your mind. I just don't really want to hear about the world financial issues, or political in-fighting, or climate change, or crime, or . . . anything! I can just pamper myself and not feel a a bit guilty about it.
Life is good - today.

LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE . . .

2011-04-15T10:58:00.000-07:00

There must be a good many people running around with their pants on fire these days. I know I’m not alone in wondering if any one of our "leaders," anywhere, is telling us the truth about anything. There is a disturbing lack of trust that permeates beyond borders to every part of the globe. When people in positions of power make those reassuring remarks regarding issues that concern us, we find it almost impossible to sift through the crap to get to the truth.

For instance: when we are assured that we needn’t worry about radiation resulting from damage to the nuclear plants following the Japanese Tsunami, can we believe them? When we are told that the oil that lies below the surface in the Gulf of Mexico has dissipated and that the fish finding its way to our tables is totally safe to eat, completely unaffected by the oil, can we believe them? Are we to believe that in the short time since that catastrophic spill, everything in the Gulf of Mexico waters is back to normal?

Can we believe that we’re getting the truth regarding our activities in Iraq, and in Afghanistan, and in Pakistan, and in Israel, and in Libya and in Yemin, and in other parts of the world where unrest is taking place. There is a super-abundance of "facts" - most of them conflicting - that we are being fed on a daily basis. It just depends on who is telling the story.

Can we believe that our elected representatives are working for our best interests while they bicker about the myriad of financial issues that burden this country. The only thing we can be absolutely sure of, is that they are working for their own best interests, including being re-elected. And while our dwindling "middle class" continues to carry more and more of the burden, those at the top and their corporate buddies get richer and richer. We can believe that.

Our leaders have evolved over the years from people of character, integrity, idealism and strength to self-serving bureaucrats. We can’t rely on them to listen to us and actually represent our interests. They simply do whatever they have to do, including outright lying, to get our vote. And we, average Americans, have forgotten how to think for ourselves and stand up for what we believe. We are a nation of lazy, "feed it to me" people. We allow the "news" commentators to feed us information, tell us how to think, mold our opinions, and ultimately to control our destiny. Shame on us!

It was painfully clear when Katrina hit the gulf coast, that our government was more interested in looking good in the face of unmentionable pain and devastation than in actually doing everything possible, as quickly as possible, to meet the needs of their constituents. Can we ever believe our government when a natural disaster or man-made disaster occurs? Have they ever told us right up front the painful truth about what has happened and why, in terms of government assistance? Have they ever given us the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Nonsense! They just feed us "crap" and we swallow it.

Are we so stupid, so prone to hysteria, so incapable of hearing the truth that we must be spoon-fed tiny dribbles of the truth along with large portions of half-truths or outright lies, over an elongated period of time so as not to become unmanageable? And is that the ultimate goal? To keep us ignorant so we can be "managed?

I’m sick of being fed lies and half-truths. I’m sick of not knowing who to believe, or even if anyone can be believed. I’m ready to become "unmanageable." This country desperately needs some honest leaders who care more about the health of America than about their re-election campaigns. And we need more people who will put forth the effort to learn the facts and who won’t settle for less than the truth.

Someone once said, "The truth will set you free." It’s the truth!

MONDAY BLUES

2011-04-11T11:26:00.000-07:00

What is it about Mondays? I no longer have to go to the office on Monday morning, since most of my work is done from home these days, and the Wash-day Blues are a thing of the past (most young people have no idea what that is), and being the first day of a new week, Monday should bring with it a sense of anticipation, even excitement. Instead, it's Monday . . . ugh!

Hmmm - see, on the weekends, we keep pretty busy with yard work, family time, church on Sunday and then Sunday dinner with the kids and we have very little time to dwell on the problems of our world, our country, our state, our community, our finances, our health, etc. And then comes Monday and it all comes flooding back. There is on-going strife in Lybia, on-going war in Afghanistan, on-going bombings in Iraq, on-going nuclear danger in Japan, on-going search for folks lost in the earthquake, on-going politicking in Washington, on-going on-going on-going. It is harder and harder to maintain a positive attitude in today's world.

I'm considering turning off the radio and TV and staying off the internet for a while to see if I can be like the ostrich. He seems to be able to pretend that life is good if he can't see it; I think he may have something there! Life is good. You know what? I'm still breathing and I feel pretty good. Chocolate and red wine are still very tasty; my animals still love me and loving on them makes my blood pressure come down; the birds are still singing in the back yard and the hummingbird is still a beautiful little gem; the roses are blooming and there are tiny tomatoes on my plants in the garden; new mown grass still smells wonderful and even the weeds have pretty little flowers on them. Life is good.

Happy Monday!

A WET MONDAY

2011-04-09T10:18:00.000-07:00

It's raining again and the raindrops obscure my tear-stained face. My sweet Annie, whose photo you see here, has begun to show signs that she is, indeed Pit Bull, a reality I have tried to deny from the time she began to grow into the undeniable "bully" body. When I adopted Annie from a local rescue group, I was told she was a Boston Terrier mix and at eight weeks old, she certainly could have been. The color and markings were not unlike that breed and she was very sweet. She is still very sweet, well-trained and mostly obedient. When she refuses to be obedient is when she is chasing other animals in the back yard. Some time ago she caught and severly injured an opposum, which did manage to get away in spite of her injuries. Of late, Annie has managed to catch and kill four squirrels. Yesterday was the worst. I heard the squirrel squealing and I ran out with the broom and tried to make Annie drop it from her mouth. She stubbornly held on until the squirrel stopped squealing and breathed its final breath. When Annie finally dropped it, I was in tears and sick at heart. I was faced with the reality that when she has "prey" in her mouth there is no stopping her. I took care of the dead squirrel and, through my tears and utter disgust, washed the blood from Annie's face, and pondered how I could possibly live with a dog who takes such pleasure in the "kill." Because . . . if she can do that with squirrels, could she one day do it with a child? Or an adult? She has shown definite signs of being more territorial with my sixteen year old dog lately, growling and even attacking her if she tries to go under the bed to sleep; Annie considers "under the bed" to be her "den" and when she's under there no one else may enter. To be completely honest, I hesitate to stick my hand under there when she's there, although she has never shown any signs of aggression toward me. I recognize, however, that I should not even have a second thought about that and since I do, somthing is not right. When I first brought Annie home, she came down with Kennel Cough and I nursed her through that illness like you would nurse a baby. And she was my baby; she loved to cuddle and I loved to tuck her in close to me in the early morning just before we got up. She grew quickly and clearly was not Boston Terrier. She is high-strung, and a little timid with strangers, particularly men, but I never thought of that as a problem - until now. So what to do? I talked with my Veterinarian yesterday and he suggested a Pit Bull Rescue group. This makes my heart ache - how do you just give away your child? And how would Annie cope with that when she considers me her Mommy (okay, Master). Some would say I am crazy; this is a dog for heaven sake. Or even, she's killing squirrels, for heaven sake. Good riddance, too many sqirrels anyway - etc. And, I hear those arguments and understand the logic. This isn't about logic. The Vet gave me some anti-anxiety medication for Annie (maybe I need some too). We're going to see if the meds will calm her enough that she won't be so prone to have to kill any wildlife in the back yard. She will chase and the exercise if good for her, but we hope she won't be so determined to catch and kill. We'll give it a try before we make any decisions. I'm not sure I could just give her up to a rescue group. It would feel like abandonment to me. It seems to be it would be less painful for Annie (if not for me) to have her euthanized. She would never have to understand that her Mommy has given up on her and she is very smart; she would know. So, it's raining today and I'm still crying.

SIMPLE GIFTS - CONTINUED

2010-07-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

I have discovered that it’s not so easy to make eye contact with strangers. Here’s the way it goes: I am walking toward a person in the Walmart or Target store and as we get close, I make an effort to look directly at him/her and smile. Very often they miss the smile because they quickly look away as though I might see something in their eyes that will give them away. I wonder what I might learn about them if we make eye contact. It’s an interesting phenomenon.

If I say “hello,” he or she will sometimes respond but even then without looking directly at me. When I have actually managed to make eye contact, smile, and say something, the response has been mixed. One time, I noticed the dress that a lady was wearing and said to her, “I love the colors in your dress; reminds me of spring flowers.” Her face literally lit up and she thanked me but quickly moved on. On another occasion, I caught the eye of a lady who was looking at shampoos while I was searching for my favorite hair spray. “Don’t you wish they would stop changing the packaging on these things? I don’t recognize the product I usually buy.”

She merely grunted, shrugged her shoulders, grabbed her shampoo and left. I wondered if I looked like a mass murderer or something. This is harder than I expected. I had suspected it might be just me who avoided eye contact, but I’m finding that it is rather the norm. Is this a result of spending so much time communicating with and through computers and hand-held devices that we have become more comfortable with technology than with actual human contact? Is it a trust issue? Are we suspicious of everyone? This is one instance when I wish I was more educated in the area of human psychology..

I was checking out at Publix where the cashier was a very pretty young oriental woman with whom I was able to make eye contact. Her smile was bright and genuine. I told her that she had gorgeous hair (it was the absolute truth) and she grinned and thanked me enthusiastically. I think her day was already bright, but I might have added a little ray of sunshine. I know she made me feel better simply by looking directly at me and honoring me with that beautiful smile.

A smile is free; doesn’t cost anything, does it? Well, maybe it does. For instance, if you’re having a really awful day and someone catches your eye and smiles brightly, you may have to exert yourself to return the smile. But I’m convinced that having done so, you will have released a bit of the tension that was weighing you down.

I wonder if the reason we avoid actual communication with one another is that we can’t spare the time to be civil. Our lives are unbelievably busy; complicated; demanding; frustrating; busy . . . busy . . . busy. OVERLOAD! Computers when they become overloaded simply shut down - or crash - before they are ruined. We could learn from them. Maybe we need to simply shut down on a regular basis and refuse to answer the phone or check our email or . . .

I’m old. But one advantage to being old is that I can remember when life was a bit simpler. When we received a letter from someone, even if it required a “quick” response, no one expected that response to be instantaneous. “Immediate response” didn’t mean what it does today. The person who sent the letter knew he/she would have to wait for return mail which might be two or three days, maybe even a week.

I remember “party lines.” When I picked up the phone to call someone, there might be someone else using the line (someone not living in our house). I would have to wait my turn. And unless it was an emergency (someone in our house was bleeding to death), I had no problem waiting. Most people think that we’re better off today, but I’m not sure about that. I think a lot of people feel like they have far too much to do and not enough hours in the day. Hurry, hurry, hurry!

What do you think?

SIMPLE GIFTS

2010-07-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

This morning when I opened my bible a little piece of paper fell out. On it, handwritten was the following:

“Middle age is when the narrow waist and the broad

mind begin to trade places.”

- Bud

I chuckled as I remembered this dear man who made so many people smile with his never-ending supply of little joys to share. Bud always had a joke to tell or a little piece of paper to slip into your hand with a cute saying, maybe an uplifting verse, or even scripture and always the quotation was signed “Bud.” Most of the jokes were what we would call “lame” and folks would shake their heads and arch a brow when they saw Bud heading toward them with “that look” on his face.

Whenever Bud told a joke, he’d watch your face and say: “There! “Made you smile, didn’t I! You’re beautiful when you smile, you know.”

Or: “Made you laugh, didn’t I? You know it takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown. So you might as well smile and save your energy.”

Bud was always delighted when he could make you laugh out loud at his jokes and he’d slap you on the back and remind you: “I’ve got a million of ‘em.” And I believe he probably did have a million of them. And I believe his lovely wife, Charlotte, had heard all of them a million times during their sixty years of wedded bliss. Nevertheless, she stood by his side and smiled patiently while he shared his "simple gifts."

Bud also liked to visit friends and fellow parishioners whenever they were hospitalized and bring a little happiness into their room. He was never solemn or sad, and always seemed to know the right thing to say to bring a smile to the faces of the patients and their visiting family members. More often than not, he’d bring a small bouquet of roses from his rose garden and explain that he, not Charlotte, took care of the roses. He was proud of his green thumb.

I haven’t thought about Bud for a long time. He passed away about eight years ago after a long battle with prostate cancer. This morning, he made me smile again and started me thinking.

I reflected on how that little slip of paper had brightened my morning - maybe even my day. Such a simple thing as that silly little joke became a special gift. And I began to wonder if I could find simple little things to do every day to brighten someone else’s day. I mean, I wonder if I could make it a habit to find just one little thing every day to do to put a smile on someone’s face or to make someone feel a little better about himself or herself. Might there be some little word or gesture that might help change a bad attitude or outlook.

I thought about how often I walk through a store without making eye contact and probably miss many opportunities to say “hello” and actually see a person who might need to feel “visible” that day. A simple greeting, a tiny bit of small talk (which I’m not great at) might make all the difference to someone. A genuine “thank you” to a clerk with a “You sure look sharp today! I love the color of your shirt,” can start that person on the road to a great day, maybe the best day they’ve had in a while. I have a feeling that the person who receives this little gift will pass it on several times during the day. Kinda like the movie. What was it called? “Pay it Forward,” I think.

And I thought about how many times when greeting friends and acquaintances, I say,

“How are you?” And they respond, “Fine, thanks. How are you?”

And that’s that. And off I go. But you know, that’s not that. They may very well NOT be fine - and maybe with just a little follow-up question like, “Are you? You look a little tired. What’s going on with you,” indicating a sincere interest in their well-being, will result in some meaningful conversation or at the very least, that person feeling like maybe someone really does care how they are. And that may be enough to lift their spirits and make them feel a little better. And, yes, I might find myself on the receiving end of TMI, but I’ll call it time well-spent.

And how about a hug. Okay, you can’t be hugging anybody and everybody. But hugs are so therapeutic, maybe even magic. Bud used to say that everyone needed at least five hugs everyday to stay healthy. He was a great hugger! A firm handshake can be beneficial, but a hug says I care about you, you’re important to me, I wish you well. I believe hugs could replace most anti-depressants!

I think that Thoreau’s quote went something like this: “Most men live lives of quiet desperation.” Things haven’t changed a great deal since Thoreau’s observation. We tend to be so busy with our own individual and family needs and necessities that we generally have no idea what our friends and neighbors are going through or how utterly lonely or despondent they may be.

I’ve decided to make a list of little things I can do – like maybe write out short scripture verses, or uplifting quotes, or poems or “little funnies” and passing them out when I am out and about. And maybe each day trying to make just one person feel good about himself or herself by saying something nice about how they look or their smile or their demeanor or their service - just something to lift their spirits. I can’t fix the world by sharing these “simple gifts,” but if I can make someone feel better, even if only momentarily, it will be worth the effort. And if the smile is passed on, then our world is a tiny bit better – am I right?

I think I will dedicate this effort to Bud and maybe he’ll look down and see that what he started is being perpetuated. A living memorial to a sweet man who made everybody smile.

WHERE'S THE LOVE?

2010-05-23T16:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I received another email oozing hatefulness against our President. It’s not that this person, a dear friend of mine, simply dislikes our President or disagrees with him. The email, which had been forwarded, and who knows how many other people have received it, was spewing hatred loud and clear and was outright disgusting. I’m deeply disturbed by this type of message which exhibits a complete lack of even elemental respect for the Office of the President of the United States of America.

I’m not suggesting that we should all line up to pat him on the back and give him kudos for the great job he is doing. We may have huge differences with him regarding his policies and/or politics. But he IS the duly elected leader of this great country and as such should be treated with a modicum of respect. But more than that, the question arises: “Where’s the love?”

Are you laughing out loud? Sure you are. But, let me ask it again: “Where’s the love?” I’m standing out here on a limb now and it’s creaking, but I just can’t sit back and pretend I’m not bothered by the hatefulness that is being circulated, affecting my relationships and my respect for the people of this country. I believe that God created us all and I believe that He created us all to work together under His guidance and with His purposes in mind. It was Jesus who told us to give Caesar his due – in other words pay your taxes and don’t undermine your government (the Gospel according to Lois). If we believe that ultimately God is in charge, then we must know that no matter who is in the office of the President, we should be praying for him and if not supporting him, at least not inviting outright “assassination” and that includes character assassination, spiritual assassination and even physical assassination which is entirely possible with all the “patriots” out there who espouse Obama’s evil nature and intent.

Do you disagree with Obama? That’s certainly your privilege. And it’s a wonderful privilege, granted by virtue of being a citizen of the United States of America. We are free to voice our opinions and we are privileged to vote for our leaders. I certainly had issues with the previous Administration and intensely disliked Cheney and the way he operated. And while many felt as I did, there was never the level of outright hostility that there is today. I believe that Obama has had to deal with a boatload of problems created by the Bush Administration. Has he done everything right? No. Could you? Could anyone? This is not a job for Sissies and if nothing else, I respect Obama’s willingness to try to climb a mountain that most of us would never consider. This is not an evil man. This is a man trying to do what he thinks is right.

Instead of constant criticism and fault-finding, the people of this country need to go down on their knees and pray for America; pray for our President; pray for our environment; pray for our troops; pray for Love to gain victory over the Hatred that is so prevalent today. We need to focus on what is good about this country. We need to focus on our hope for the future of this country and the future of our children and grandchildren.

Let’s raise ourselves out of the dung heap and become the people we were created to be. Let it be said that America leads the way toward world peace. That journey must begin here, in our homes, in our churches, temples, synagogues, on the job, on the internet, on the phone, on the roads, in our city, county, state. It can’t be legislated. But it can be achieved. We can choose love over hate.

Come on, Friends, let there be peace in America.

WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?

2010-04-28T08:38:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting here in my well-worn wicker chair enjoying a perfectly peaceful morning, watching the Cardinals and Titmice feed and the hummer darting here and there with spectacular agility, and it’s hard for me to imagine the chaos, desperation, and despair that at this moment in time is rampant in other parts of my world. Earthquakes, tornadoes, wars, disease, famine, murder and general mayhem all around me, everywhere. I know that my world is bigger than my lanai; bigger than my immediate family and my circle of friends; bigger than my city and my job; bigger than my state and bigger than my country. This big world of mine is so troubled. And here I sit . . .

Our Pastor recently asked the question that we have asked ourselves since time began: “What is your purpose here?” As Christians, we believe that our purpose is to love God and serve Him. Scripture tells us to love God with all our hearts, soul and mind, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. So, is my purpose served when I attend worship on Sunday; when I am friendly and kind to people I meet there or in the store after church, or on the street; when I give a dollar or two to the panhandler on the corner; when I send a few dollars to World Vision to help the children in Africa; when I occasionally visit a nursing home or Alzheimer Center? Or is more expected of me? Is it enough that I grieve for the victims of the Earthquakes. Is it enough that I grieve for African mothers, fathers, and children who are dying from Malaria or AIDS?

When I ask myself if I have “loved my neighbor as myself,” I have to answer truthfully that I haven’t. If my home was destroyed by an earthquake, and if I lost family members due to some tragic natural disaster, I would be there for me . . . I would spare no dollar nor effort to rebuild my life and the life of my loved ones who are so much a part of me. Yet, all I do for those fellow members of the human race who suffer such pain is send a few dollars and sit on my porch enjoying my peaceful life.

Several years ago my home was damaged when Hurricane Charlie blew through with great gusto and took my roof. Charlie was followed by two more hurricanes which were big rain-makers and although my roof had a tarp covering it, the rain made it’s way into the attic space and soon I stood in the living room and watched the ceiling fall. It’s difficult to describe the sense of loss that I experienced as I watched my home fall apart. This loss, of course, doesn’t compare with what the earthquake victims have experienced. But it helps me to get closer to understanding how devastated they must feel and to admire their strength and resiliency as they struggle to recover. Their catastrophic losses, so sudden and horrific, call for unbelievable courage and strength just to go on living. Is there something I can do to help? Is there some way to love them in the way God calls me to love them?

Seven years ago, I lost my husband after a long battle with cancer. His death was not unexpected but knowing it was coming didn’t alleviate the pain. Looking back, though, I understand that had he been taken from me suddenly and without warning, I would have suffered his loss in a very different way. Even though his long illness was difficult and painful, we had time! Time to say the things that needed to be said. Time to love one another in a way we hadn’t loved before. Time to remember all the good times and laugh at the not so good times. We were able to hold one another at the end and whisper our good-byes. I will be forever grateful for that time.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all had that kind of time to prepare . . . but life isn’t always wonderful and folks the world over suffer enormous losses, suddenly and without warning, without understanding, and without the means to recover. Am I called to do more? What is expected of me? What is my purpose?

IF WISHES WERE HORSES . . .

2010-04-09T08:03:00.000-07:00

When I was a girl, Mom’s response to my many daydreams and wishes was always: “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

I wasn’t absolutely sure what that meant other than it was unlikely my wish would be granted. She was right, of course, most of those wishes didn’t come true.

For instance:

“I wish we were rich like the Hendersons, then I could have a horse.”

“I wish I could grow up to look like Loretta Young.”

“I wish my nose wasn’t so big.”

“I wish there wasn’t such a thing as cancer.”

Mom has been gone for many years, and I am still wishing, but some of those wishes have changed. Here’s a few of today’s wishes:

“I wish there was less hatred in this world.”

“I wish politicians cared more about doing the right thing than about being re-elected.”

“I wish no child would go to bed hungry tonight.”

“I wish people didn’t need drugs and alcohol to cope.”

“I wish Christmas was more about the gift of Love and less about gifts.”

“I wish the food I love didn’t make me fat or clog my arteries.”

“I wish there was no such thing as cancer.”

But, I know . . . “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

SPRING HAS SPRUNG

2010-04-03T17:34:00.000-07:00

After an unusually long and cold winter in Florida, Spring arrived in my back yard, chasing out the “Old Man” and bringing with it new life. At first, I noticed tiny green tufts on the “B.S Tree” just outside my lanai. This tree belongs to the birds and squirrels, thus it’s name.

These days there is a cacophony of song out there along with some rather suggestive dance routines involving fluttering wings and bright colors in odd places. For instance, the Cat Bird has a very bright orange patch directly under his tail which you and I could miss entirely, but which is apparently something that the female Catbird must see before she’ll dance.

In not more than two or three days, those tiny green tufts on the BS Tree have already developed into full-fledged Spring Green leaves. Spring green, as opposed to autumn green, is fresh, bright and bursting with vitality. The color alone causes my spirit to soar and fills me with anticipation. No wonder the birds sing with such abandon (or it could just be the little orange patch.)

I planted seeds and welcomed the rain which would help them grow. They will be miraculously transformed into colorful Cosmos in a few weeks. All around me are signs of new life. The March winds do their job of blowing away winter debris and coating my lanai with a fine yellow dust, which results in sneezing, snorting, watery eyes, and some complaining. Not my favorite spring gift, but a necessary one. Now as the last of the crisp brown hangers-on float to the ground giving way to the Spring Green new-borns, my Oak trees seem to stand taller and prouder, promising summer shade for the garden.

When I next look, I see that the seemingly lifeless little seeds that I had placed in the dirt a few days ago have sprung to life and I can’t help but smile. How is this possible? My logical mind cannot understand this miracle, but my heart understands. Our God is an awesome God!

I am reminded anew that we are the recipients of a precious gift every morning: God’s unfailing love, freshly wrapped today in the promises of Spring. At this time of the year, the words “He Lives,” become in my heart, “We Live.”

In my Garden, where he walks with me and talks with me, I am thrilled and humbled by the breathtaking beauty of His creation. I am forever grateful for His enduring faithfulness and love expressed in so many ways every day, every season of the year, throughout our lives. And words are not enough to express my gratitude for the gift of eternal life purchased by the blood of God’s own Son, Jesus.

And as if that wasn’t enough, He gives us Spring. What an awesome God!

MIND IF I GRIPE?

2010-03-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

I can’t figure out why we are so interested in what other people do in their bedrooms, or even in bedrooms that are not their own. Why so much interest in the sex lives of complete strangers? Is it just me, or do you also wonder what the fascination is.

Watching the on-going media coverage of a sex scandal involving a celebrity or politician is like watching piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Oh, My God! Tiger Woods has slept with countless women (some who have probably never been within arm’s length of him) and has to undergo therapy to help him overcome his “sex addiction.” P L E A S E! And politicians – ah, yes, by the numbers, can’t seem to stay out of bedrooms that are not their own. SO? Do I care? And, if so, WHY?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that “sleeping around” is okay. It’s not okay for me. But what does it have to do with me? Seems to me that those who have difficulty being faithful to their significant other will have to answer to someone who has a greater interest and perhaps the ability to bring about change and offer forgiveness. And that ain’t me.

Okay, the other little irritant today . . . Why so much media coverage and constant talking about the Veep’s little bleeped whispered word to our Prez. Let’s see: we have never heard such language? We have NEVER said a curse word? Our elected officials are pure as the driven snow and should be above uttering such obscenities? Let’s get real. That non-event doesn’t begin to warrant the coverage that it received. What is the matter with us? Obviously, we need some excitement in our lives; something significant to focus on.

Maybe we should turn off the “News” until someone gets the idea that what we’d really like to know is: “What does Michelle wear to bed?”

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

2010-03-24T11:37:00.000-07:00

Who said, “hope springs eternal?” It’s true. Recently, I wouldn’t have given you a nickle for the future of this country or the millions of people who are desperate for a little ray of sunshine in their darkest hours. That ray of sunshine blasted through over the weekend when Healthcare Reform finally became a reality and my hope for this nation was renewed. Oh, I know - this is not the “Great Fix” for all of our ills, but it is certainly a step in the right direction in spite of the hysterical rhetoric of the Tea Partiers and our lunatic friend, Rush.

I am saddened by the racial and cultural epithets being hurled around so freely. I think we are better than that. I’m disturbed by the not-so-well disguised threats of violence and suggestions that we should “get our guns ready.” I know we’re better than that. We don’t need guns to bring about change – we have the vote. We don’t shoot people with whom we disagree, we try to work things out and if necessary, agree to disagree. We will never all be on the same page, but in this country we are all allowed to have an opinion and express it. We don’t need to express it in hateful and hurtful ways. WE ARE BETTER THAN THAT!

This country has been a great example of democracy in action through the years and my hope is that we will continue to exemplify greatness - great hearts, great minds, great spirits. See, hope does spring eternal!

ROSE

2010-03-13T17:06:00.001-08:00

Rose doesn’t talk any more

Really?

The last time I saw her she talked

And sang with me, smiling; even laughing

Showing her many missing teeth

But not today. Today Rose doesn’t talk any more

Says the care-taker on duty

With a finality that troubles me

Rose’s head hangs low, almost resting on her chest

Eyes half closed, seemingly disinterested

Maybe lost altogether . . . but maybe not

I touch her hand and kneel before her

Rose, don’t you want to sing today?

She can’t hear me, or won’t

We’ll sing some of your favorite songs, Rose

Her eyes close

I strum the guitar and begin to sing

Oh, Susanna, Ain’t She Sweet, My Bonnie, Just a Closer Walk

Finally, Jesus loves me, this I know . . .

Rose lifts her head and smiles at me

I love you, she says.

HOW BIG IS YOUR WORLD?

2009-10-23T08:12:00.000-07:00

Sarah ate a quarter. Not a quarter of an apple, or a quarter of a grape

Sarah ate a quarter of a dollar.

Sarah was always eating something or other (mostly other)

she wasn’t supposed to eat.

Sarah believed that your world is as big as you make it

And Sarah’s world was getting bigger all the time

Sarah’s world was filled with so many curious things

And she wanted to taste them all

Sarah had a big belly ache one day, a really big, bad belly ache

So bad, her mother took her directly to the hospital

Sarah would probably have loved this new adventure

But her belly hurt so much she could only cry

Sarah’s mom was angry and said some bad words to the hospital man

She wondered why, but her belly hurt too much to pry.

Sarah’s mom said, “Don’t worry, Sweet Sarah, we’ll find another hospital.”

Again, she wondered why, but she could only cry.

Sarah’s mom knew that if they only had insurance . . .

Someone would be helping Sarah now to feel better

And she began to cry.

Some people live in smaller worlds that don’t include everyone

Such a damn shame!

HEALTHCARE - A RIGHT OR A PRIVILEGE?

2009-09-22T08:23:00.000-07:00

Is healthcare a right or a privilege? And do we, individually, have any responsibility to provide for our neighbor? I think I know how our Creator would answer that question. I wonder what God must think about the fact that we seldom consider what is “right,” but seek primarily what is in our own best interests. I understand that “self-preservation” is a strong human instinct, but I believe more is expected of us.

“. . . one nation under God . . ."

I think most would agree that our founding fathers and early leaders envisioned America as a Godly country, governed by reasonable, responsible and responsive leaders. A country where the citizens would enjoy freedom of speech and freedom to worship as they choose, as well as the assurance of justice for each and every one. I wonder what they would think if they could see and hear what is going on today.

Last week someone said to me: “I don’t want my taxes to pay for someone else’s healthcare.” I wasn’t shocked to hear that, but I am deeply disturbed by the lack of concern that person has for his fellow man and, of course, his position is not uncommon today. I am afraid that as a whole, we are becoming a nation of self-centered, “me-first” people who are willing to allow our fellow Americans to suffer catastrophic losses as long as it doesn’t affect us in a negative way. Have we, indeed, sunk so low? We’ve all heard the stories; no need to repeat the numbers or the facts. We desperately need to provide healthcare for those Americans who have lost their jobs, and as a result, their healthcare. We need to assure that those people whose medical costs have put them on the brink of bankruptcy, are saved from losing their homes and ending up on the streets. We need to be sure that no one has to make a choice between buying the medicine they need or buying food.

"He’s not heavy, he’s my brother.”

I don’t like labels and I suspect that if you have read this far, you may have labeled me either a “religious fanatic” or a “bleeding heart.” I would reject both labels, but I plead guilty to being concerned about my fellow Americans and I plead guilty to believing that God was involved in the beginnings of this country and is still involved in the evolution of this country. I believe that He must be disappointed that His children have so little concern for their brothers and sisters.

We seem to have lost even the ability to allow our brothers and sisters to express their opinions, to vote their hearts, and support their leaders, without vilifying them. Do we need to bring guns to public meetings to indicate our opposition or our outrage. What is that about? Certainly not about respecting our neighbors and their rights. I am frightened by such outright manifestations of potential violence and appalled that anyone would feel right about bring so blatantly threatening.

“. . . indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

If ever the people of this nation needed to be “One in Spirit,” it is today. Yet I have never seen more divisiveness and rancor. I think it was Patrick Henry who said: “United we stand, divided we fall.” Are we heading for the “Fall?” If, in fact, we lose sight of the fact that this country is only as great as its citizens standing together, hand-in-hand, determined to do the right thing, then we are lost.

“Am I my brother’s keeper?

Yes, you are! I believe that as human beings, “created in God’s image,” we have a responsibility to carry our brother’s burdens when we can do it. If, in fact, we are created in God’s image, and “God is Love,” then we do have a Spirit of Love within us - and love does not seek only for selfish satisfaction and well-being. We need to rekindle that Spirit of love and self-sacrifice. Let us, citizens of the United States of American, stand united, one nation - under God - preserving one another’s dignity and serving one another with respect, love, and courage.

“God Bless America, Land that I love. Stand beside her

And guide her. . .”

LIVING WITH ANIMALS

2009-09-10T13:38:00.000-07:00

My daughter and her husband spent the better part of a sweltering weekend installing a wire fence around my vegetable garden to keep the dogs out so that my newly planted seed would stand a chance of actually growing before being trampled into the ground. I thanked them profusely and fed them a nice dinner. I’m sure they had better things to do, but they are very generous with their time and talent.

That night Annie, my younger dog, sometimes referred to as “bull in a china closet,” apparently chasing some wild intruder (probably a cat) drove straight through the gate, bending it completely out of shape. I wonder that she didn’t break her neck, but I knew nothing about the destruction until the next morning when, looking out to the garden, it seemed to me that something was not quite right. It appeared that some of the posts were crooked and the gate was open. Upon closer inspection, it was clear what had happened.

I called my daughter and told her about the damage. She saw the humor in it and had a good laugh. They’ll repair the damage next weekend. Bless their hearts.

When I mentioned this little episode on Facebook, a couple of people remarked that they were glad they didn’t have to deal with animals in their lives. “See, that’s what you get. I’m so glad I don’t have animals,” etc. This started me thinking about what it is like to live with animals versus what it is like to live with human beings. I have to say, that animals win this, hands down.

Let’s see . . . I get no complaints about what I feed them. I don’t have to prepare something different every day; they’re happy to eat the same thing for every meal. Sometimes, I even mix a little of my leftovers into their food and they are completely overjoyed. They never complain if I don’t get home in time to feed them at their regularly scheduled meal time. They simply welcome me home with enthusiasm and smiles and go outside to pee. And then they thank me profusely for feeding them.

Oh, yes . . . They don’t care what I look like, if my hair is not combed or if my makeup is not freshened. They don’t mind if the bed doesn’t get made or the floors vacuumed. Of, course, they can’t help with the dishes, but they don’t complain if the dishes don’t get done right away.

And, bless them . . . they never complain if I’m in a bad mood. Rather, they sense when I need to be left alone or if I need a little TLC. A chin on my lap and sympathetic eyes are such a comfort.

Then, too . . . they never complain. They can be miserable, sicker than a dog, so to speak, and I won’t know it until I see evidence of it in one form or another. I’ve never known a hypochondriacal dog or cat. They hardly flinch when getting a shot from the Vet and while they don’t enjoy taking medicine, it can generally be disguised and administered without difficulty.

And they never complain about their lot in life; they have definitely learned the secret of being content (living with me, of course). They don’t care about world affairs, or bad drivers, or unfriendly clerks or high prices. They just live for the moment and don’t ask for more.

Now . . . it is true that if I want to travel, I have to make arrangements for their care and that can be problematic and sometimes expensive. But they don’t expect to go everywhere with me and they don’t give me attitude when I return. Instead, I feel like “Queen of the Nile” when they give me the Royal Welcome after I’ve been away.

I find animals much easier to live with. How about you?

REMEMBERING

2009-09-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

Florida I love . . .

Palm Trees and Palmetto. Sand Pines and Coonti. Myriad shades of green.

Purple, red and yellow hues of the Crepe Myrtle and Hibiscus

Majestic Live Oaks dressed elegantly with hanging moss and supporting on its limbs

The amazing Resurrection Fern which lives & dies & lives again, perpetually

The Mockingbird’s amazing repertoire and the wake-up call of the Sandhill Crane

flying over on the way to the pond with it’s family

The spicy fragrance of Confederate Jasmine and the sweet smell of orange blossoms

The taste of Red Grapefruit harvested from my own tree

A walk on the beach to taste the salt sea air and feel the sand between my toes

The hypnotic sound of the waves rolling in, rolling in, rolling in

To meet the foraging sandpipers . . . and me

Sunshine on my face everyday warming my body and lifting my spirit

But I remember . . .

Trillium and Jack-in-the-Pulpit. The exquisite fragrance of the delicate Lily of the Valley

I remember searching under ancient hardwoods and along old railroad ties

for the elusive, highly prized, Morel Mushroom with it’s incredible taste.

I remember walking on a thick carpet of pine needles

through a silent forest of Magnificent old Pine trees and feeling the urge to pray.

I remember the beauty of God’s Autumn Spectacular.

Color so brilliant it can take your breath away.

Vibrant reds, shimmering golds, deep purples, bright oranges.

And yes, I remember snow, softening the landscape

with a profound hush and slowing the pace on a busy morning.

I remember yellow grosbeaks, and cardinals,

and black-capped chickadees brushing away the snow

to uncover the seed.

And I remember Grape Hyacynths and Tulips

pushing their way through the cold earth to fill our hearts

with hope that winter would finally end.

And Daffodils . . . beautiful Daffodils.

And I will never, ever forget the astounding, incomparable fragrance of Lilacs

Florida, I love . . . But I remember Michigan

Writing Assignment

2009-09-08T17:26:00.000-07:00

Following is a poem that I'm working on for a group assignment. If you have suggestion to improve it, please let me know . . . I welcome all criticism. (But be nice, please)

THE MELODY

Barely discernable above the garbled voices,

Breaking through the static

A melody

A voice, tremulous and elusive

Losing strength in the cacophony

Then growing more insistent

Like the ebb and flow of the tide

inching closer with each wave

Now and then I hear it

Clear and pure and painfully honest

Now and then

I don't

Maybe you would like to hear it

Or not?

If I can tune out the static

and listen to the song

Will it be too familiar?

I fear

The melody is me

BAKED IN A CAKE

2009-09-08T17:07:00.001-07:00

Pretty Persian Pussycat, attitude unchecked

Crawled into a cake pan, whereupon she slept

In comfort so complete, she failed to wake before

her Mistress entered on the scene and shouted No; No more!

So distraught was her maniacal mistress to see such impudence

This was perhaps not the first such show of feline insolence

"Withdraw infernal feline or I may lose my cool,

And bake your silly silky self until you shed your wool.

Then I shall name you Persian Pound Cake

And serve you at the school.

LABOR DAY

2009-09-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

It hasn't been so many years ago that the goal of every red-blooded American working man and woman was to retire as early as possible and enjoy the life of leisure they felt they so richly deserved. Many dreamed of retiring at 55, and many did just that, while others had to make it to 60 or 65, but knew when that day came, their lifestyle was going to change and they would be forever free to do whatever whenever they pleased.

That mind-set has changed in recent years and I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Many people in their sixties and even seventies are choosing to continue to work rather than retire. Yes, many have found that their "nest egg" isn't feathered as well as they thought it might be and may actually need to continue for purely economic reasons.

But, many have discovered that continuing to work is actually good for them physically, mentally and emotionally. Too much leisure time is not always a good thing, even when it is seen as well-deserved. When you are still healthy and capable of working, there is great satisfaction in being productive and enjoying that feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. Doing that job, solving problems, meeting deadlines, and being able to gripe about the boss and the workload is all part of that mental stimuation that helps to keep our brains young.

We are living longer . . . often into our nineties and when we retire at 60 or 65, that means we may have close to thirty years of leisure? Of course, there are a million ways to keep busy with volunteer opportunities all over this country, and those activities are satisfying as well. But I doubt they provide the stimulation and satisfaction that actually working for a paycheck does.

Anyway, on this Labor Day, 2009, I salute all you laborers out there and I thank God that I have a job to go to and a brain that is still functioning at 68. And to all of you who have lost your jobs because of the economic situation, my heart goes out to you and I pray that this country will soon be turned around and you will be back to productive and satisfying work.

THE GOODBYE DAY

2009-09-03T11:29:00.000-07:00

THE GOODBYE DAY

Posted on September 3rd, 2009 by AftedEEduth

Mike carried Lindy and I carried her favorite stuffed animal as we approached the Vet’s office, knowing that Lindy would not be going home with us this time. This time, we would hold her and stroke her and speak our good-byes softly and reluctantly. I wonder how much she understands. She has always been so tuned in to our emotions. She always seemed to understand when I was feeling sad or worried or just tired. She would sit beside me on the sofa and lay her chin on my lap, looking up at me with those lovely sad eyes. She could force a smile out of me every time. When we were upbeat and in the midst of planning for company - maybe a family dinner - there was an extra little bounce in her step and her ears were propped up expectantly. She always knew.
I remember the day fourteen years ago when we found her at the Animal Shelter. We had already looked at several dogs and walked a couple of them, but none of them seemed to be “the right one.” We were almost to the car when Mike said, “Why don’t we go back in and look at the pup that was crated in the front office. She was kinda cute.”
“She was cute, but I think she must be already spoken for.” I said.
“Well, let’s just go in and ask,” Mike said.
We did. It seemed that Lindy had been at the Shelter for almost two months. The girls brought her up front to spotlight her because she was very sweet and they were anxious for her to find a home. They were thrilled that we were interested and Lindy was thrilled when we put the leash on her and took her out for a walk. She was such a spirited little thing with her ears perked up and her feathery tail wagging happily, as though she knew this was her lucky day. We looked at each other and smiled. The connection was made. She had found a home and we had found “the right one.”

Our Vet told us that Lindy was probably a year old and would not likely grow much larger. And then he added, “She’s the perfect size, isn’t she?!” She was, I agreed. Also, he doubted that she was German Shepard mix as the Shelter had surmised. Her coloring was predominately black with a tan face and smatterings of white underneath and on her legs. Her eyes were slightly bulgy, rather like a Pomeranian but not that pronounced, and she had a black outline under her nose that looked like someone had painted a little mustache on her face. In short, she was beautiful.

Our kids were well into their teens when Lindy joined our family and, of course, they welcomed her and spoiled her (yes, it was their fault!) She watched them grow up, go off to school, get married, and come home with babies. She was always delighted to see them when they came to visit and welcomed every newcomer with great enthusiasm.

Lindy never met a person she didn’t like. She adored visitors! We used to joke that if someone broke in while we were away, she would welcome them and show them where the silver was hidden. A watchdog she was not. A friend she was.

For years, Lindy and I went for a walk each morning to begin our day. We both looked forward to it and if, for some reason, it didn’t happen, I was made to understand that she was not pleased. There was never any doubt when she was unhappy. Her tail didn’t stand tall and wave back and forth, rather it hung low and her entire body seemed to sag under the weight of her displeasure. Doleful eyes searched mine and not getting the answer she wanted, she would finally sink into a pile of fur and sigh deeply.

One morning, Lindy stopped at the end of the block and pulled the leash to turn around. She was ready to return home. This wasn’t like her; she was always willing to walk around the subdivision with me for twenty or thirty minutes. I tried to convince her to continue the walk but she was sure she wanted to turn back. Our morning walks became shorter and often just to the end of the block. I would say to her: “Really, Lindy, if I can still do it, you can too.” But she didn’t agree and anyway, by that time, she wasn’t hearing much. She wasn’t completely deaf but she missed a lot. And her eyes were clouded with cataracts. She was getting old and I didn’t want to know that. I didn’t want to know what the Vet told us when we took her in. I didn’t want to make the decision that had to be made. How could I possibly say “goodbye?”

I looked into her eyes that day - that “goodbye” day - and she gazed directly into mine. She understood. She knew. But then, she always knew. I smiled and stroked her and thanked her for all of it. All of it. She was the “right one.”

LIFE IS GOOD

2009-09-03T11:12:00.000-07:00

The older I get . . .

The easier it is to lose track of time

Often wondering what time it is

And even, sometimes, what day it is

I find I can be okay with not washing my hair everyday

It can be okay to not comb or brush my hair right away

It can even be okay to simply run my fingers through it

Some days . . .

I worry that someone will ring the doorbell early in the day

And find me in rumpled and ragged disarray

But I don’t worry enough to put myself aright right away

Days seem to get shorter as I find myself circling the task list

And trying to remember what it was I wanted to do

Reminding myself write it down as soon as I remember

The wonder is . . .

Somehow I manage to feed the animals and myself a well-balanced diet

Most days I put on my walking shoes and take the girls for a walk

And most of the time, I remember their names

I still enjoy a good challenge, like a difficult crossword puzzle or sudoko

And writing an occasional article for my neglected blog

And trying to understand Republican reasoning (oxymoron?)

Even as the days grow shorter . . . I find I like this time in my life.

Life is good!

2009-09-03T11:11:00.001-07:00

CAN WE DO THE RIGHT THING?

Most Americans agree that we need to do something to change the healthcare situation in our country. But is becoming painfully clear that the operative word, “change” is also the scary word, “change.” Many of us fear change and thus are vulnerable to the variety of scare tactics flooding the airwaves these days. It would seem there are folks who will go to any extreme to defeat needed reform, more to further their political ends than to do the right thing for the citizens they represent. Lobbyists are spending boatloads of money to influence our representatives to kill this movement and I fear that our voices will be unheard over the sound of money changing hands.

I am appalled at the vitriolic attacks that have been launched at some of the Town Hall meetings and on some Radio and TV Talk Shows. When did we forfeit our responsibility to think, America? Why are we listening and being influenced by trouble-makers who want to stir up more hatred and cause reasonable people to lose their reason. Thinking Americans need to pull together and discuss this issue with intelligence and respect and let’s do that before somebody gets so stirred up he or she does something we would all regret for the rest of our lives.

Is there anyone reading this who doesn’t know that certain truths are undeniable? For instance, insurance companies are making decisions for us every day. They tell us what doctor we can see (if we want them to pay) and they tell us what medications to take (if we want them to pay). My daughter recounts her recent experience at the pharmacy where she was told that her insurance company would not pay for the medication prescribed by her doctor until she first tried another medication. WHAT?! The insurance company knows better than her own doctor what she needs to be taking? Ridiculous!

Insurance Premiums are increasing three times faster than our wages, yet we are okay with them refusing to pay for medication that our doctor prescribes? We are okay with them telling us that we can only see certain doctors? We are okay with them refusing to cover pre-existing conditions? We are okay with them cancelling us when we lose our job or change jobs?

Come on, America, it’s time for us to be heard above the money-changers in Washington and above the hysterical rantings of Radio and TV wannabees.

I, like most people past the age of sixty-five, am covered by Medicare and am very thankful to the visionaries who fought hard for this “government run” program for seniors. But I know, and you know, that there is room, and lots of it, for improvement in many areas. The President is right when he says that we need to streamline the record-keeping and eliminate duplications in testing, care and medications. I’ll bet most of us have friends or family members who have been made sicker by being over-medicated or even prescribed medications that work against or undermine the efficacy of other medications they are already taking. This is a problem that should not happen and wouldn’t if we had better record-keeping available to all medical providers. And many repeat hospital stays might be eliminated if we had such state-of-the-art records. There is room for improvement and ways to save significant money without reducing Medicare benefits.

We elected a man to lead our country who promised healthcare reform because we desperately need it and because it’s the right thing to do. This is America - land of the brave, home of the free; not land of the sick and home of the destitute because healthcare has bankrupted us. We cannot continue to accept the status quo which allows our friends and neighbors to be forced to make choices between seeking medical treatment when they need it, or putting food on the table and paying the light bill. SHAME ON US IF WE DO.