A Long-Overdue Post

So I haven't posted for a while. But after a spectacular day with Anarkey and her family yesterday, I thought I would follow her good example and try to post more.

Thanksgiving was lovely - great food, wonderful company and games. Just perfect. To crown the day I got an acceptance on a short story as well. It's based on the concept Belinda is based on, and Belinda is what I'm trying to finish for the start of next month. It's close, really close (about 40 pages left to write) and I have somewhere to send it. The deadline is what's making me write and having a book done by the end of the year and sent would be wonderful. I'm also going to try an clear the marketing, so I have nothing sitting waiting for an edit in January. If I'm successful in this, I may even meet the submitting one thing a week challenge from the beginning of last year.

Game is also some fun at the moment. Sophia is back - with all that entails, and it looks like the praxis wheel has finally left St Louis, so I can dip my toe in other politics.

In other news, I joined the Catholic Latin mass choir, because I missed singing in Latin. The choirmaster is in the Welsh choir. I love the music, and the people are pleasant, but I'm very worried about the more crazy end of the church. I almost left twice over the second amendment, but reasoned that I can probably discuss it better with those with opposing views now I know what they are being told from the pulpit. I'll be singing a little solo stuff for midnight mass.

Teaching is going very, very well. I'm coming away from Monday lessons feeling I can make a difference. I wish people would spend more time giving one another confidence rather than taking it away. Self-belief is so easy to lose.

Winter is coming. This makes me happy.

Talk like a Pirate Day

...is tomorrow landlubbers

Disasters and how people make them better

We are here. We are safe, we are well. The recent storms seemed to knock out a good deal of U. City but our little house only lost power for a few moments. I was in South County and after spending some time clearing and checking to see if roads were opened, I made it home after the first storm. People were panicing even on that first night; filling gas stations and grocery stores which didn't have the power to cope. I went to sleep, imagining that everything would be fine by the next day.

Everything was not fine. People were still without power, the heat was scorching and, to a couple, deadly. We called around a little to offer our spare, air conditioned space. A family from Tim's lab came to us. A few others said they would brave it out, moving downstairs or into basements to sleep.

Yesterday things seemed to be looking up. Much of the city was back on again, or looking like it would be soon. Then we had another storm rip through. More power out, I noticed that our roof shingles didn't look as sturdy as they ought. I was still supposed to be working on a couple of mall jobs.

When the weather calmed I headed out to the Mills mall to find it dark, yet the doors were open and some people were wandering deserted corridors under butterflies and flowers left in the darkness. Some enterprising coffeee shops were still open. I headed to the Gallaria. It was swarming with people, too busy for comfort. I did the job I needed to do with Viderick's assistance and we ran over to Clayton for coffee. I needed one more thing before Carbondale, a single business card from an optician on a side street. While turning onto the side street (I was stopped, indicating and otherwise behaving as a good motorist should) a white transit van drove up my trunk.

Viderick was hurt, I was shaken. Despite my best hopes I think my car is now dead. There is no trunk left, the crumple went right up to the rear windshield. I can see the fuel tank. It took more than two hours for the police to deal with their stuff and the tow truck to arrive. It was six o'clock before I was home and could tell Teabringer. Viderick and I went out drinking...there was little else for it. I owe him more thanks than I can give for staying with me and holding my hand throughout (even through dealing with insurance companies-above and beyond) and cheering me with thoughts of a new car when I looked unsteady. I think we were very lucky it wasn't worse.

So tonight there will be a party and we will celebrate how good it is to be alive, and with good freinds.

Lets hope all the power is back on again soon.

Maybe I should try something new...

Which OS are You?

I have no clue how I would operate it 'though.

I like this one much better, but it's probably my ego talking...


Which File Extension are You?

Adult Education

Saturday was teacher training day at the Y for those of use volunteering to teach adult literacy. They started in the middle of the night (8.45 am), but as I managed to get to sleep before 2.00am the night before it wasn't too painful. We covered a lot of material in six hours, including some fascinating information regarding the difference between teaching adults and children, and the reasons why adults who have never read in the past come to the classes.

Here are some of the facts/stats that we were given:

General

- 90 million (nearly half) American Adults have limited basic reading and writing skills.

- 17% of Missourians score in the lowest five levels of literacy.

- 950,000 Missourians age 16 and older (28%) do not have a high school diploma.

- Children of parents who drop out of school are six times more likely to drop out than children of parents who finished school.

- Children's literacy levels are strongly linked to the educational levels of thier parents, especially their mothers.


St Louis City (pop age 16+: 306,308)

-35% at Level 1 (National Adult Literacy Survey)
-66% at Level 1 or 2
-37% lack a high school diploma or equivalent


St Louis County (pop age 16+: 775,060)

-16% at Level 1 (National Adult Literacy Survey)
-37% at Level 1 or 2
-17% lack a high school dipolma or equivalent


Missouri (pop age 16+: 3,939,284)

-17% at Level 1 (National Adult Literacy Survey)
-46% at Level 1 or 2
-25% lack a high school diploma


National (pop 191 million)

-21-23% at Level 1
-25-28% at Level 2 (46-51% at Level 1 or 2)

"Literacy experts believe that adults with skills at Levels 1 and 2 lack a sufficient foundation of basic skills to function successfully in our society."

Many factors help to explain the relatively large number of adults in Level 1: 25% of adults in Level 1 were immigrants with limited English. 60%+ did not complete high school. 30%+ were over the age of 65. 25%+ had physical or mental conditions that kept them from fully participating in work, school, housework or other activities. Almost 20% had vision problems that affected their ability to read print.

-adapted from NIFL: Frequently Asked Questions


There are, of course, more students than tutors. We do this all one to one. The students come to us requesting assistance, often they don't want freinds, family or collegues to know that they are learning. They need more people to help, it requires an hour or two of commitment a week and two Saturdays for training, they provide materials, locations for teaching in (public venues), matching tutors to students and assesing the level of the student. It is worth it.

In other news, I watched a hawk carry off the rabbit that had been eating my veggies today. Spectacular.

A Trip to Hermann

The invitation came in a thick cream envelope, and in the hand of a friend. I remembered that she had been pessimistic about this place on her first visit, more than a year ago. This time the pessimism was mine, for a different reason. I come from farms, from rolling countryside. I know it isn't romantic. I don't like mud, or biting insects, or long periods in the sun, or sleeping under the stars. I have a stubborn fondness for indoor plumbing and hot water. But the friend who gave me the invitation promised guest houses and good food, so on Saturday we threw drinks and lawn chairs into the car and headed out to our destination.

We arrived to see the Harpist, sitting under the tree, harp between his legs, playing 'The Ash Grove'. He told us that the others were inside, eating cheese and cracker for lunch. We went and introduced ourselves to the few who had arrived. Within the hour we were down at the creak. Something of the child had been released in me, I climbed a tree (despite the heels), and paddled in the stream (having tied my skirt up). One person fell in, the cows lowed, alarmed by the interruption. We lost Teabringer down there for two hours and he found snakes, Cray fish and minnows.

Our host took us on tractor rides (a tiny 4x4 in reality), and let one of the party drive. I sat for a long time taking with The Harpist, and he looked through my music and played for me while I sang. Dinner was served as a thunderstorm passed by to the North. Many of the people cooking also write for Sauce, and the spread was magnificent. We ate and drank. As the sun set we all moved towards the newly-lit fire and sat around it. I tried some of Transylvanian Dutch's white port. Papers, flies and musical instruments emerged. Everyone who had been invited had a talent to offer.

Readings and music went into the night. The red sparks from the fire drifted to join the steady stars in the sky. Lighting bugs flashed to their own music in the prairie. The frogs in the creak were audible from the farmhouse.

We left a little before midnight, after the host had gone to bed and the party was winding down. And I knew that we were lucky to have found such great friends here.

The Editing Draw

I finally faced it today. The last possible thing to do before I absolutly have to get on with the novel. It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked. But the time I'd sorted it out I had discovered two short stories which were essentially done and I'd forgotten I'd written and the rest wasn't too painful at all. Between tonight (when I intend to do that getting up in the middle of the night to work thing, the only solution in this heat) and tomorrow, I hope to have everything I possibly can out. So I have no excuses. No draw of editing, no 'I could just do some marketing'. I think it will come to about 13 stories of various quality, genre and length to go out in the next couple of days (some of these are re-sends). That should take me to about 20 out. Someone has to give in at some point.

The plan for next week is to get the editing and formatting done on Black's Magic so I can send the first 23,000 words to Sun Junkie, who I hope will be joining the small group when we get back together again. Then I'm going to aim for 1000 words a day (in slightly less than NaNoWriMo fashion). I really want to see the end of this and get it out into the market. Having read some synopsis, however, I am determined to re-write my own. This may be the first task I give myself as I think it will help structurally.

For now, I'm looking forward to a night on the Hill with Teabringer this evening, and a day's dress shopping and movie watching with a good friend on Tuesday. With any luck all this marketing may buy me the new summer dress I crave to help cope with the unbearable hotness.

There may be something for WUTA on Tuesday, but I doubt it.

Shopping on Manchester

I spent a very plesant day with a great friend browsing the shops on Manchester. Some of the best shops in St Louis are over there, including The Book House, Pom Pom and Elizabeth House. I bought book (predictable I know, but there we are).

There is a little news which may sadden some of you; the book house is being sold and may be closing. They are, however, having a large sale at the moment, and are now open on Sunday afternoons. Get there while you can.

A mental workout of perhaps some worth

N-S-R You scored 88% Non-Reductionism, 22% Epistemological Absolutism, and 22% Moral Objectivism!

You are an N-S-R: a metaphysical Non-Reductionist, an epistemological Skeptic, and a moral Relativist. If you are simply dying inside to figure out what all this mumbo-jumbo means, then simply continue reading. Metaphysics: Non-Reductionism (Idealism or Realism) In metaphysics, my test measures your tendency towards Reductionism or Non-Reductionism. As a Non-Reductionist, you recognize that reality is not necessarily simple or unified, and you thus tend to produce a robust ontology instead of carelessly shaving away hypothetical entities that reflect our philosophical experiences. My test recognizes two types of Non-Reductionists: Idealists and Realists. 1. Idealists believe that reality is fundamentally unknowable. All we can ever know is the world of sense experience, thought, and other phenomena which are only distorted reflections of an ultimate (or noumenal) reality. Kant, one of the most significant philosophers in history, theorized that human beings perceive reality in such a way that they impose their own mental frameworks and categories upon reality, fully distorting it. Reality for Kant is unconceptualized and not subject to any of the categories our minds apply to it. Idealists are non-reductionists because they recognize that the distinction between phenomenal reality and ultimate reality cannot be so easily discarded or unified into a single reality. They are separate and distinct, and there is no reason to suppose the one mirrors the other. Major philosophical idealists include Kant and Fichte. If your views are different from the above, then you may be a Realist. 2. Realists deny the validity of sloppy metaphysical reductions, because they feel that there is no reason to suspect that reality reflects principles of parsimony or simplicity. Realism is the most common-sensical of the metaphysical views. It doesn't see reality as a unity or as reducible to matter or mind, nor does it see reality as divided into a phenomenal world of experience and an unknowable noumenal world of things-in-themselves. Realist metaphysics emphasizes that reality is for the most part composed of the things we observe and think. On the question of the existence of universals, for instance, a realist will assert that while universals do not physically exist, the relations they describe in particulars are as real as the particular things themselves, giving universals a type of reality. Thus, no reduction is made. On the mind-body problem, realists tend to believe that minds and bodies both exist, and the philosophical problems involved in reducing mind to matter or matter to mind are too great to warrant such a reduction. Finally, realists deny that reality is ultimately a Unity or Absolute, though they recognize that reality can be viewed as a Unity when we consider the real relations between the parts as constituting this unity--but it doesn't mean that the world isn't also made up of particular things. Karl Popper is a famous realist. ***** Epistemology: Skepticism (Idealism or Subjectivism) In regards to epistemology, my test measures your tendency towards Absolutism or Skepticism. As an epistemological Skeptic, you believe that ultimate reality cannot be known in any objective way. The two categories of Skeptics that my test recognizes are Idealists and Subjectivists. 1. Epistemological Idealists believe that knowledge of ultimate reality is impossible. All we can ever have knowledge about is the world of phenomenal human experience, but there is no reason to suspect that reality mirrors our perceptions and thoughts, according to Idealists. Idealists, then, tend to see truth not as a correspondence between propositions and reality--reality is, after all, fundamentally unknowable--but as a coherence between a whole system of propositions taken to be true. We cannot escape from language or our conceptualized world of phenomena, so we are unable to reference propositions to facts and must instead determine their truth by comparing them to other propositions we hold to be true. As a result of such an idealism, knowledge of any ultimate reality is taken to be impossible, hence the Skeptical tendency of idealism. All our pursuits of knowledge, science included, can only reflect a phenomenal reality that is of our own making. Famous idealists include Kant and Fichte. If the above did not sound skeptical or idealistic enough to reflect your own views, then you are most likely a Subjectivist. 2. Epistemological Subjectivists, like idealists, believe that all our knowledge is ultimately of our own making because it is filtered through our subjective perceptions. Unlike an idealist, though, a subjectivist doesn't believe in any universal categories of "truth" that apply to the phenomenal world, because each individual can create his own truth. Either that, or he will hold that society or custom creates its own forms of truth. A subjectivist will tend to regard scientific inquiry as a game of sorts--science does not reveal truths about reality, but only gives scientists pseudo-solutions to pseudo-problems of the scientific community's own devising. It is a type of puzzle-solving, but the puzzle isn't of reality. The definition of truth to a subjectivist may be one that recognizes a proposition's usefulness to an individual. William James is one such subjectivist, who believes that we can "will to believe" certain propositions so long as we would find them useful. The example he gives is being found in a situation where you must leap over a chasm in order to survive. The true belief, in such a situation, is that the leap will be successful--this truth is certainly more useful to us, and in believing the truth we become more willing to commit to the jump and make it successful. So, in essence, knowledge of reality is possible for a subjectivist because they never make reference to any objective reality existing outside of our own perceptions and beliefs--we can have knowledge of reality through having knowledge of ourselves, and that is all that we should ask for. Famous subjectivists include Kuhn, Feyarabend, and James. Another famed critic of Absolutism is Hume. ***** Ethics: Relativism (Subjectivism or Emotivism) My test measures one's tendency towards moral Objectivism or moral Relativism in regards to ethics. As a moral Relativist, you tend to see moral choices as describing a subject's reaction to a moral object or situation, and not as a property of the moral object itself. You may also feel that moral words are meaningless because they do not address any empirical fact about the world. My test recognizes two types of moral relativists--Subjectivists and Emotivists. 1. Subjectivists see individual or collective desires as defining a situation's or object's moral worth. Thus, the subject, not the object itself, determines the value. Subjectivists recognize that social rules, customs, and morality have been wide-ranging and quite varied throughout history among various cultures. As a result, Subjectivism doesn't attempt to issue hard and fast rules for judging the moral worth of things. Instead, it recognizes that what we consider "good" and "right" is not bound by any discernable rule. There is no one trait that makes an act good or right, because so many different kinds of things have been called good and right. In regards to the definition of "good" or "right", a Subjectivist will tend to define it as whatever a particular person or group of people desire. They do not define it merely as "happiness" or "pleasure", for instance, because sometimes we desire to do things that do not produce pleasure, and because we don't consider all pleasurable things good. Furthermore, Subjectivists recognize the validity of consequentialism in that sometimes we refer to consequences as good and bad--but they also recognize that our intentions behind an action, or the means to the end, can also determine an act's moral worth. Again, there is no one rule to determine these things. Hence the relativism of moral Subjectivism. The most well-known of the subjectivists is Nietzsche. If that didn't sound like your position, then you are probably the other variety of moral Relativist--the Emotivist. Emotivists are moral Relativists only in a very slanted sense, because they actually deny that words about morality have any meaning at all. An Emotivist would probably accept Hume's argument that it is impossible to derive an "ought" from an "is"--no factual state of affairs can logically entail any sort of moral action. Furthermore, a emotivist's emphasis on scientific (and hence empirical) verification and testing quickly leads to the conclusion that concepts such as "good" and "right" don't really describe any real qualities or relations. Science is never concerned with whether a particular state of affairs is moral or right or good--and an emotivist feels much the same way. Morality is thus neither objective or subjective for the emotivist--it is without any meaning at all, a sort of vague ontological fiction that is merely a symbol for our emotional responses to certain events. Famous emotivists include Ayer and other positivists associated with the Vienna Circle. ***** As you can see, when your philosophical position is narrowed down there are so many potential categories that an OKCupid test cannot account for them all. But, taken as very broad categories or philosophical styles, you are best characterized as an N-S-R. Your exact philosophical opposite would be an R-A-O.

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 83% on Metaphysics You scored higher than 5% on Epistemology You scored higher than 8% on Ethics

Link: The Sublime Philosophical Crap Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Fermented Pleasures

The garden party was pleasing. I think everyone had fun, I enjoyed myself a great deal. Teabringer set up the BBQ and about 25 people showed up to spend some time here. The nesting cardinals seeme to have dealt fairly well with the intrusion and have waited until today to try and pusuade the fledgling to take flight. The food was great (although we'll be eating leftovers for some time) and the company fantastic.

I made rather a mess of arrangements for today, however. The party wound down at about 1.00am and I got to bed at about 3.30 a little the worse for the fermented pleasures, but with the house cleaned up. We woke at 11.30. There was a hike we were supposed to be on at 10.00, although Teabringer mentioned that we might not be there.

We did make it over to the Graphic Poet's new pad, with he shares with the Guy Who Wants to Illustrate For Me (more on that should it emerge...creative enterprise is always much easier in theory). We chatted with them for a long while; it was great to catch up, although I fear I wasn't at my social best (sorry guys, we'll have brunch and make it up). I left to get to the Mage game in time.

Didn't make the Mage game. I was looking forward to it, I really was...but Teabringer wanted another plant, so we popped over to Sugar Creak, and then I was passing the bookstore and I had been recommended a book I was keen to read, so I picked that up. Then we got home and ate, and I realised that time had vanished and I'd missed the first two hours of the game and I was still half an hour away.

Never mind. I finished the novel and enjoyed it a great deal.

There will be a new short story on Tuesday. It is simmering quietly in the back of my mind.

Epiphyte

An open orchid
Epiphytic and insecure
Clings to rough surface
White with fear
Curving to the ground
Bowed by the weight of petal
Killing for beauty

A Disturbing Letter

This morning there was a handwritten letter in the post. It was addressed to Teabringer, the handwriting was awful and there was no return address. I opened it (we open each other's mail, it makes everything run more smoothly) . The contents were as follows, in the same handwriting as the envelope (I'm guessing left handed), all capital letters:

May 14th, 2006

Karen Kostich is right on target about people like you.

I googled the name and came up with the letters page where Teabringer last sent something to the Post Dispatch. So the letter I received this morning is non-threatening in content, but very threatening in style. They have our address and all it would take is a glance in the 'phone book to have my name and our phone number.

What would you do?

This one from Altongal

Which Tarot Card Are You?

You are the Devil card. The Devil is based on the figure Pan, Lord of the Dance. The earthy physicality of the devil breeds lust. The devil's call to return to primal instincts often creates conflict in a society in which many of these instincts must be kept under control. Challenges posed by our physical bodies can be overcome by strength in the mental, emotional, and spiritual realms. Pan is also a symbol of enjoyment and rules our material creativity. The devil knows physical pleasure and how to manipulate the physical world. Material creativity finds its output in such things as dance, pottery, gardening, and sex. The self-actualized person is able to accept the sensuality and usefulness of the devil's gifts while remaining in control of any darker urges. Image from The Stone Tarot deck. http://hometown.aol.com/newtarotdeck/
Take this quiz!








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Scientology - The Real World Technocrats

Wednesday was Open house day at the Scientology building on the loop. Anarky and I were having our usual Wednesday lunch and gossip when we noticed the sign and decided to go in together (figuring they'd have to be really well coordinated to hit us both over the head). It has a Ziggurat - how could I possibly not. We went in. We gave false names (wouldn't you?) and we expressed an interest in the building. Brad, the poor soul allocated to show us around, looked doubtful.

It used to be an old Masonic lodge, I happen to know that the masons now live by the Wellston Metrolink. The building was spectacular, but they had done quite a lot of destructive office building inside. Most of the corners had been rounded, the colour scheme was nondescript. There is no way they showed us the whole building. Maybe the front 1/3, tops. Brad claimed that the third floor was not refurbished and unsafe to view.

The ground floor was bog-standard offices really. Some of the rooms were set up like classrooms, some had books and pictures on the wall. It seemed quite confrontational in the setu: chairs opposite one another at the desks. There was another room where analogue machines looking a little like ammeters, were on partitioned desks against the wall. These I recognised as the 'stress meters' I had seen them use when they were doing their evangelising on the loop. One of the pictures on the wall was labelled with the title 'auditor'.

The second floor was creepy. No other way to describe it. We glanced into a room that Brad described as an 'auditorium' but which looked more like an activities room. There were 6 people in the room. They all wore black and white, not a bit of colour to be seen. On the table closest to the door was a model-making area. There were clay representations on people in circles on it. We walked down the corridor into a room with sofas in it. A door to an office was open to one side. It had a plaque with a list hanging from the inside. It was this list which made me go Argh! Technocrat!

The list had 10 points, and it is here I wish I had a perfect memory. What I do recall is that it started with points running like this: 'Ensure the correct technology is used.' 'Ensure the correct technology is used properly.' 'Ensure the dissemination of the correct technology.' 'Know that the correct technology is right.' Went on to say things like: 'Do not use incorrect technology', 'Ensure that incorrect technology cannot be disseminated'...need I continue?

What with that, the vibe, the fact that the building was far from open house and Brad's reluctance (in fact inability, it would seem), to give us answers which were non-contradictory, we left.

Shudder.

Tired and happy

I'm sorry I haven't updated for so long. Sleep was more important for a while there.

So Mum came and we went to the NBIA Conference at Union Station. We stayed in the posh hotel there and I went to eat with Mum. There were several seminars at the meal times and I travelled out to the incubators one day. It was interesting enough and good to spend time with Mum, but I am worried that she is doing the work of four people and seeing this as normal. The incubation stuff is only a part of the work that she does and others seemed to be doing half of what she was doing with the incubators as one job. But the motivational speaker was Fred Pryor and he was very good at what he did. In the same seminar he managed to pursuade Mum that she was doing too much and me that I should return to my big projects and focus.

The conference had its main reception at the Botanic Gardens, the gardens were lovely and suprisingly different on Tuesday from what they had been on Saturday (the three of us had headed over there on Mum's spare day). They had thier Chihuly exhibit open for the delegates. It was amazing, beautiful, cheering, namely all the things I had hoped it would be. Give the garden your money. See it. It is worthwhile. I will be going again.

Carbondale on friday was a lot of fun, despite the spontaneous decision to go and my having no real plans for Verity that evening. Games have been smaller lately, which I think leads to better RP, but some are disgruntled about. Last night at StL it was quiet too, wouldn't really have been worth my while had it not been for some good ST interaction - it was so predicatable I could have scripted it. Never mind, Wednesday will be more exciting.

Yesterday was also a concert day. The Welsh chior sang at Florissant Shrine for thier town celebration day. It went well enough, only a small audience in attendence, but we sang quite well. I squeezed in The Wonderful Editing Lady's play reading too. I think it went down well. Lots of people showed up and there was a party atmosphere when I left (although Teabringer, who was at a block party in Alton, was much missed).

Today, I hope, will be peaceful. Gardening, reading, writing and maybe dinner at Frank and Helen's. The garden here is lovely now. Irises are out and almost all the plants we put in are thriving. The only sad thing is that I lost some seedings when the trays flooded in the storms. But not all of them and those that have survived were probably the stonger ones. It saves me having to thin them. Anyone for cherry tomatoes? I have spare plants.

Huzzah!

In a moment of inspiration I just worked ut how to log on to the DURPS board again. Yay! I can use computer! (I even let the exclamation marks out of the box, look how excited I am).

In other news, there are unkillable tomatoes...

Mum arrives tomorrow, must return to unnecessary cleaning.

Anyone for poetry?

A ghostly form made solid
In the reflection of love
Knowledge of thoughts
Sufficient
Inadequate

A Day in the Life of a Seedling

The sun warmed my new leaf gently as I sipped moisture from the freshly watered soil. My roots were beginning to spread and sometimes they wound around roots from neighbouring plants. One had reached the bottom of the soil and rested upon the black base of the tray where it too could feel the sun's heat.
We were moved this morning. The tinsel which had glittered in the sun and kept the birds away in our infancy was removed and we found ourselves in the shade. I revelled briefly in the cool. There was a commotion at the other end of the tray, seedlings being uprooted and earth scattering over surrounding leaves. Small screams issued from plants as their roots were exposed to the sun and then left to die. The causalities were the small, the sick and the weak, with only the occasional large seedling felled.
The hand which pulled up so many of my fellows approached me. I felt my roots tugged as the places where I had twined with others were wrenched apart. The hand fell to my right, earth showering over my new leaf, leaving it in darkness. The hand descended again, pulling up my neighbour, leaving me destabilised and lurching toward the ground. A finger caressed my stem, righted me. The earth around me was firm and empty.
Soon I was back in the sun; soil washed from my new leaf with fresh water, roots expanding once more to accommodate the new leaves I would grow tomorrow.

Driving

Last night I went over to Carbondale with a couple of freinds to play in the LARP over there. The game was fun. I drove. One of the guys with me needed to be at work at 5.00am. We usually get home at about 4.00. Last night we left earlier than usual and I put my foot down a little (although I confess the putting the foot down wasn't more than usual...I tend to drive a little too quickly).

We were on our way home on Route 3 and had just come over the bridge into MO when I was pulled over by a policeman. I've never been pulled over here before and I was a little nervous. The policeman was nice and pointed out I was going to fast. I was, I didn't dispute it. He asked for all our ID's. One of the guys in the car works for the police mending the radios. He handed over his police ID (and his army ID) as well as his driver's licence. The police officer ran our ID's to make sure we weren't fugatives and send us on our way. No ticket. No nothing. Amazing.

I suspect a little professional courtesy was employed. I deserved the ticket. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

George

Teabringer's Grandfather died last night. He was a good man and an easy friend. Always happy to be alive, George recounted his good luck in being selected for the missions he was on in the war; his good fortune in surviving where so many of his freinds died. His joy at his long life. This was shown in his constant fascination and interaction with the world.

Those of us who knew him will miss him a great deal, but we each hold a fragment of him. A tale, an experience, a letter, a piece of life given to us to be shared. People never truly vanish, they are glimpsed accross years and generations, in happy and fulfilling moments.

Yesterday I saw an exhibit in the Pulitzer and there was one piece which stood, for me, above all the others. Felix Gonzalez-Torres had a exhibit in which a pile of sliver wrapped candies were on the floor. The made up the weight of both him and his lover. Visitors were encouraged to take a piece or two of the candy and consume it.

The best people of the world can be seen in this art. They always give pieces of themselves: to be consumed, to be made part of something else, to be savoured, cherished for a fleeting moment. They show seemingly never ending generosity and sacrifice. Still they shine bright. They always give joy. George was one of those people. He will be missed.


Teabringer has written a Haiku to be added:

Loss is love's worst pain
Regrets, kind words not spoken
to a heart now still