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Archive for the ‘NanoPoblano’ Category

If you are on Facebook, you most likely have seen the black and white challenge. In the challenge, people are to post one black and white photo each day for seven days, no people and no explanations.

I participated in the challenge a couple of weeks ago and enjoyed it very much. Below you will find some of the photos that didn’t make it on to the Facebook end of the challenge.

 

 

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In a former life, I took the picture at the top of Haleakala, a volcano on Maui. It was a place I had wanted to go to see the sunrise. It had been on a short list of things I wanted to do. In 2004, I was able to take my kids to Maui and we made it happen. I think there’s a post somewhere on this blog that talks about that experience so I won’t go into it. I will say that it was one of the most awe inspiring moments of my life. I would do it again in a heartbeat but I know I, most likely, won’t have that opportunity again. However, in light of the events and situation in the world and in this country, I find myself looking to these moments and these places that demand acknowledgement and belief in/of a greater power.

Sunrise2

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I Forgot

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I forgot that I was going to try to post every day in November. I usually do it every year. I am still going to try, even if it is a short post or even a photo.

Today I don’t have much time to write the post I really want to write. I have about an hour before I have to be at my daughter’s to watch the crucial Game 7 of the World Series. We’ll see how long that goes. Last night’s game was short, less than three hours, if I recall correctly. However, there was also a game that ran over five hours a few nights ago. So who know?!

I will tell you that I am rooting for the Dodgers. I think I posted about them before. I haven’t had time to post a few choice Dodger stories but I might type them up if I get a chance and save them to post on different days to fill my every day in November plan. I’ll tell you that one of them involves my ex-husband and my late father-in-law attending a league play-off game back in the late 70’s. Another story involves my daughter’s desire to catch a ball from her seat…when she was all of about fourteen. I won’t spoil it and tell you what she came home with but I will tell you that I wish this mama bear had been there to fight for her girl! And yet another story involves what was then a record setting game for length of at home Dodger game that I attended when I was expected home much earlier and how mad my mama was!

Okay, enough teasers. It’s on to wait for that last game that will have a lot of fans in tears and a lot others in cheers. I hope I will be on the right side!

 

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I have always been a volunteer. A volunteer for just about everything and anything. If my help is needed, I volunteer.

This year I volunteered to lead a creative writing workshop at the charter school that sponsors my grandson’s home schooling. I volunteered to do a short workshop, with about 6 meetings. They gave me a class that meets at 9 AM every Tuesday morning and has kids from 3rd grade to 5th grade. The kids show up when they want. It’s not mandatory. The abilities range from not being able to write a sentence to one girl who has written an entire book about dragons and castles and magic.

The school is not too far, about a 20 minute drive. However, it’s “over the river and through the woods,” meaning that I travel through quite a diverse terrain. And, like this morning, it is usually very foggy most of the way. Now we’ve entered our winter weather season here in Oregon and we have “winter mix” in the forecast today and “probable snow” next Tuesday.

So I don’t want to do this anymore. At what point do I tell them, I’m not doing it anymore? It’s not like they don’t have anyone. There is a teacher assigned to do it but, because I expressed an interest in teaching a workshop, she gave me her job. I’m sort of stuck. I don’t want to back down on a commitment but this is not working out for me. No one seems to even appreciate it over there, the adults, that is. I showed up one time only to find out that there were no classes because they were auditing and no one told me there would be no classes that week. When I email, I get no reply. When I call and leave voice mail, I get no reply.

Frustration doesn’t begin to cover this.

UPDATE

I got there this morning only to find that they ate canceling classes because the electricity is it in one of the buildings and the Internet is our in all buildings. So I came home, frustrated again. I’m done for the calender year because they have testing next week and the following week is a special holiday event. I guess that gives me time to decide. 

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I was driving home from Seattle on Friday and didn’t have an audio book ready to listen to. I turned on the radio but couldn’t tune in to anything while I was driving. I hit the “scan” button and all I got was static until, just at the point of giving up, I heard a song starting up. I immediately recognized the song. It brought a smile to my face as it reminded me of my brother, David.

All of my brothers were Raider fans, especially David and Richard. They were very enthusiastic fans and everyone knew it. When the Raiders played (we’re talking Oakland Raiders) David had a song cued on the radio, ready to go when the Raiders scored. And so, if you lived I David’s neighborhood, you didn’t have to listen to the game or watch it because you would know the score…every time the Raiders scored, David would play, at full volume, Another One Bites the Dust! The volume was so loud that the whole house shook. No one ever complained because he lived in Raider territory so it continued.

That’s a story that reminds me of one side of David, a side that makes me smile. So when I heard the beginning beats of the song, even before any lyrics, I knew the song and it made me smile and sing out loud every time that lyric came up…another one bites the dust!

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I was doing a lesson about Thanksgiving with Anderson. We watched some kid videos on the first Thanksgiving and about the pilgrims landing at Plymouth. We talked about what it means to be grateful or thankful for something and about what we each could list as what we are thankful for. He made a turkey out of construction paper and we listed something to be thankful for on each feather.

One thing stands out for me from this lesson that I can’t really discuss much with my six year old grandson. Not yet. But I will get there. What is it?

When the pilgrims arrived, they arrived sick. They spread their disease to the natives who had no resistance to any illnesses coming from Europe. So they died. A lot of them died. And what did Squanto do after most of his people died? He helped the pilgrims learn to hunt and plant things they could harvest for the winter. He helped them to learn how to fight the cold and snow that would come in the winter. And when the pilgrims decided to feast, the tribe came and brought them food.

And what did “we” do? We not only brought them diseases they could not fight but we also took their land and drove them to isolated and barren lands; lands that would bear no crops to sustain them; lands that were harsh. And it continues today as “we” take their sacred land and water and dignity. We take and take and take some more and forget the spirit of giving and helping that the natives showed “us” that first Thanksgiving.

Talk about a sickness.

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Last night, Thursday, just like on Wednesday night, there was a peaceful protest against the Trump win. On Wednesday night it was peaceful but after the protest, there was a lot of graffiti left by Trump supporters, including swastikas, on buildings. Then came last night. The peaceful group assembled in Pioneer Courthouse Square (we’re talking Portland, Oregon) and began their march. Somewhere along the way, outside groups joined in and hijacked the main protest. The outside groups included at least one anarchist group that has been active here in Portland in the past. There were other groups but, because I am not sure of who, I won’t name them. Suffice to say that they were not the peaceful group which began the evening.

It turned violent. It turned ugly. It turned destructive. There were fights. There was spray painting. There was smashing of windows. There was rock throwing. There were fires in the street. The police were severely outnumbered. The group was about 4,000 protesters against a tiny police force. Portland has a total of 500 police, however they weren’t all on duty because things had been so peaceful. So there were just a small number of police against the 4,000 and that made it far too dangerous for the police to go in and break it up. So they marched and destroyed and rallied and got brave.

I wasn’t even aware of it. I had checked in around 6 pm when everything was peaceful. I forgot all about it. Then when I went to bed around 11, I turned on the TV. Lo and behold! There it was. Live. My heart sank. I hate to see that. There is no reason for it. None at all. I was tuned in to the TV coverage. The protesters were very angry. They would not disperse even when riot police confronted them and warned them repeatedly. Even when they were attacked by rubber bullets they remained. It was ugly. It was scary.

Finally, TV coverage ended when the police began to arrest people and things seemed to be cooling off. That’s when I tuned off too. That’s when my heart ached. That’s when I began to write this. I had other plans for today’s blog post but they, like the peaceful protest, were hijacked by these violent anarchists and whatever other groups were out there. My heart is sad.

The only good thing is that the police and the media are aware that the groups that were responsible for the violence and the vandalism were not the original group. That means a lot to me. And I hope that it will become clear to people when it is reported in the media in a couple of hours.

Hopefully, I can gather myself enough to post later on what I was originally going to post.

Violence is not okay. Vandalism is not okay.

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