Odie and Sapphire's side of the story

Sometimes I'm called Bowie but only by a certain, very occasional
visitor scribe who can’t get over my gorgeous two tone eyes.

Yes, I’m a bastion of tolerance and maturity.
I didn’t get the nickname Goodie Four Paws for nothin’!

Jenny and John felt it would be just and fair for us to hear Odie and Sapphire's feelings and opinions about their new rommate. Of course!

Day 6: Odie's take on his new sister:
Well, it's been a week since Stella came clamoring into our lives. I'm 9 years old, so I still remember what it's like to be a young pup, who thinks the world revolves around me. I believe I’ve shown remarkable restraint with this little spitfire, who thinks she's all that and a hot fudge sundae. At first, she growled and nipped at me if I even dared walk past one of her many, precious "toys." J and J's friends, Alex and Armando, gave us each a really cool toy for Christmas. You can hide treats inside, and when you throw them, they bounce like a ball. Of course, she has confiscated my toy. But my patience with her has paid off. Today, she actually allowed me to sniff one of her toys without getting her panties all in a bunch.

Oh, I just can’t!
John, please fetch me a catnip mouse and a flute of spring water.
NOW!

Bonnie, AKA The Saint

The cat, who was traumatized at first, now walks right up to her and rubs his face against her. Of course, Sapphire had to put Stella in her place a couple of times before she figured out not to mess with him. I actually enjoy a little playtime with her for short bursts and John and Jenny think she's a good influence, as far as getting me off my butt once in a while. I also get more walks with Stella around, so, she's been a good influence on them too.

I have to agree that she is kind of fun. But I'm also happy when she retires to her kennel at night and when John and Jenny go out. There is no end to the mischief she can conjure up when left unsupervised by the humans.

Jenny says we are going to walk to the pet store today, and see if we can get some chew toys on sale. Stella’s destroyed several tennis balls and chew toys that were not up to snuff. But they've also found a couple that are up to the Stella challenge. We'll see if we can't find more today.

John took Stella to the vet yesterday, because she brought a kennel cough home with her. The vet said she has a "big" personality. Well, that's much nicer wording than I would have used. "Obnoxious" is the word I’d have chosen. She DOES grow on you though. And I take back what I said earlier about her letting me sniff her toys. She just growled at me for sniffing one.

Oh well. Puppy steps. It's going to be an interesting New Year around here.
 ~~~~~~~~
Sapphire has a few less generous things to say.

Hi, my name is Sapphire, Lord and Master of the Moats-Jones household. Yes, that's my full, legal name, thank you.

I've given these humans permission to reside in my home now for over 10 years. How have they repaid my very generous gift of love and care?

Sapphire, Lord and Master

Well lets see... We had a dog named Bonnie for my entire existence here. She loved nothing more than to harass me for merely being. She made several vain attempts at herding me. Imagine that –  me, the Lord and Master, being herded and by a dumb dog at that. Well, we grew closer as time went on or, maybe, more tolerant is a better way to put it. Then a couple of weeks ago Bonnie was suddenly gone. I wanted to dance with joy. On further consideration though, I realized she had actually been a very good companion over the decade we'd known each other. She barked at any approaching, possible dangers, allowing me to feel safe in this environment.

Just as the hole left by her disappearance started to close up, Jenny and John brought home this new, pain in the ass puppy who also tried to herd me. Being that I'm older, wiser and a whole lot less tolerant, I put this puppy in its place the very first time it came after me. A few claws to the face was all it took for it to understand this kitty means business. The puppy still tries to sniff my hind quarters which is the absolute stupidest dog behavior ever. Who sniffs a Lord and Master's ass to see what they're all about? I personally am much more dignified – I sniff other's food bowls. I digress though, a growl or a quick swipe of a claw is all it takes to send this little scamp running.

Jenny and John, I really think you need to consider taking this mischievous black and white troublemaker back from whence it came! Please huh. Will ya?

Stella Blue the scamp, spitfire and Destroyer of Tennis Balls

Stella Speaks!

Pre-adoption I was a little nervous.

My pals in Phoenix, Jenny and John, just adopted a charming and rambunctious young rescue pup. Stella Blue joins them along with Odie the Wonder Dog and Sapphire, their sweet feline overlord.

This is: The Stella Report: Day 4, straight from the dog's mouth.

My new family seems to be adjusting nicely to me. I have four new family members in my new home and sometimes I have to muster up my best people and animal skills to keep the peace. "John" seems to think he is the authority figure around here. He tries to act tough, but is really a nice guy. He hangs out during the day, while "Jenny" abandons us to go to "work" (whatever that is). For some reason, he thinks it's more important to talk to the phone and send "sales orders" (again, what is this stuff?!) to people, than to play with me all day. But he has been taking me for walks, so I let him slide.

Once here, I had to do some serious investigation.
Will this place work for me?

Jenny and John seem to think it's a problem that I like to nibble on fingers and jump up on them. I get sooooo excited and I just have to demonstrate how much I love them. They are talking about taking me to "obedience" classes. I've heard there are treats involved, so I'm actually down with this.

YES!

Jenny thinks we should do something called "Agility" classes, after I pass Basic. She thinks I would be really good at running and jumping (which I totally am), and it would be a productive use of my limitless energy. Sounds fun. I'm game. Again, I think there are treats involved.

They have been challenging me with various types of toys, trying to find ones that I can't decimate within 24 hours. I do enjoy showing them that most toys are no match for my superior chewing skills. They seem unimpressed but pleased that I don't bother their furniture or shoes.

I've taught them to play "fetch", but they aren't very good at the tug of war part, when I return with the toy. They seem to think I should just drop the it at their feet, and let them pick it back up with no effort on their part. They don't seem to realize that keeping them from having the toy back is the funnest part.

Odie, AKA Goodie Four Paws

Then there's the "shower". The humans get in this thing called a "tub" every day, and let water squirt all over them from the ceiling. I love to put my head in between the shower curtain and the tub, and put my feet up on the side and keep them company. I'm pretty damp by the time it's all over, as is the floor beside the tub but they indulge me, because I enjoy it so much. Once they turn the water off, I jump in, and lick the water off the bottom of the tub. Tub water tastes soooo much better than kitchen sink dish water.

Sapphire, AKA Bed King

Then there's "Odie Blue" ( AKA “Goodie Four Paws"), the big goofy dog they call my brother. I must admit that we do look a bit alike and we have the same last name. So...maybe. Sometimes I have to remind Odie that all toys in the house belong to me. He mostly acknowledges that everything’s all about me. I noticed that Jenny is very careful to tell him what a "good boy" he is, after I've admonished him for getting too close to my toys. Whatever. 

Then there's the cat, "Sapphire". What a stick in the mud! He's claimed "the bed" as his domain – Jenny and John go along with this (???). To keep the peace, I go along with it for the most part and don't go up there. Every once in awhile I forget and am quickly reprimanded by the cat and/or humans. At least the cat has quit growling and hissing every time I get within 10 feet of him.

Oh, and then there's "the crate." I usually only have to go in there at bedtime, so I don't fuss when they put me in. I do get a treat every time. So there's that. All in all, we are getting along very well. There was another family that adopted me before John and Jenny found me, and they took me back to the shelter because their other animals didn’t like me. Huh. I'm glad this family has learned so quickly that I'm a great addition and we all work so well together to keep the peace.

I very much look forward to meeting Stella the next time I'm in Phoenix.

Heart Shaped World

A guest post from my fabulous, caring, activist friend Jenny.
 
Last week I brought a heart shaped quartz crystal back from the Tuscon gem show and gave it to a friend for her Zen room. We went on a hike together this morning and she told me that a couple of days after I gave it to her, she saw a piece on the news about a lady who collects heart shaped rocks and has lined her entire property with these beautiful stone symbols, found over the years.

And then my friend was hiking with another friend a couple days after (on the same trail). This friend told her about a spot on the trail where people place heart shaped rocks they've found on their rambles. I've been hiking this trail for a couple years now, on a pretty regular basis too, and never noticed! As we were talking, I looked down, and, what do you know? There, right under my feet, was a heart shaped rock. I picked it up to place it in the "heart shaped rock garden," which is right on the trail, for anyone to see and contribute to.

I've probably walked by the garden a hundred times without noticing. My heart shaped rock now resides along with the hundreds of other heart shaped rocks that people have found along that same trail.

Similarly, how many times, in our every day lives, do we not notice others doing random acts of love and kindness? If you look for it, it's all around. So many times we are too distracted or in too much of a hurry or just too busy to notice. In our current world (especially since the 2016 election), it's sometimes difficult to see beyond all the hatred and fear that seems to have taken hold of our country.

There are so many examples of love all around us, if we just take the time to notice. Most of the time, they just blend in with the ordinary rocks and, unless it's pointed out, we may walk right past and never notice.

Literally and figuratively, I intend to look for all of the heart shaped rocks, going forward.

Heart Shaped World – Chris Isaak

Celebrating Harry Jones

Harry and one of his great grands

Harry Jones – what a GREAT name! Puts in mind, mine anyway, superhero alter egos – like Reed Richards, Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent. You know, straight forward, no nonsense, solidly good humans.

Harry was my very good friends Jenny, Jeff and Michal’s father. Also Steve’s but I’ve not met him YET. I did however, happily, have the chance to meet Harry.

What follows is the text from his memorial service, happening later today. Yup, Harry checked out of this specific existence. He’s missed BIGLY and remembered with mondo love.
~~~~~
Harry Donald Jones, left this blue marble, Spaceship Earth on May 7, 2016.  He  was born in Punxsutawney Pennsylvania on February 25, 1923.  

Until his son Stephen  was old enough to read, Stephen thought that the sign coming into Punxsutawney said "birth place of Harry Jones."  He was preceded in this life by his parents, Alice Shields Jones and  M. Rae Jones, brothers Elias “Kiyi," Jack, Rae and Sister Rachel.  Harry’s beloved wife,  Zureta Timberlake "Timmi" Jones – who he wed on June 29th, 1957 – preceded him in 2010.

Harry graduated from Indiana High School in 1941, was an Ensign in the Navy during World War II and, afterward, attended Bucknell University, graduating with a chemical engineering degree.

He was the owner of Jones Furniture  Company, located  at 1019 Philadelphia Street and later worked for R&P Coal Company until he retired. Harry was a lifelong member of the Indiana Volunteer Fire Company and past secretary of the Indiana Borough Parking Authority. He was also a member of the Benevolent Protective Order of Elks and a Mason. Harry loved to travel and he and Timmi crisscrossed the country in a camper many times. In later life he enjoyed traveling to see his family. He also enjoyed restoring antique furniture. He was a formidable Scrabble and bridge player and took no prisoners as anyone who played against him can attest. Also, anything chocolate was his!

We bid him a fond farewell.

He is survived by his children Michal Jones-Stewart of Shelocta, Stephen Jones and wife Laura of Tucson AZ, Jenny Jones-Moats and husband John of Phoenix AZ and Jeffrey  Jones and husband Mark Secord  of Lisbon NH. He is also survived by his grandchildren Diane ( & Brad) Neal of Seneca Falls NY, Colleen (& Jason) Epstein of South Plainfield New Jersey, Russell and Andrew Stewart of Fredericksburg Va.  Great grandchildren too – Noah and Hunter Epstein of South Plainfield.

I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.
~ Umberto Eco, Foucault’s Pendulum

I lost my father this past year, and the word feels right because I keep looking for him.  As if he were misplaced. As If he could just turn up, like a sock or a set of keys.
~ Mark Slouka 

Great Jones!

At sixteen,  you still think you can escape from your father. You aren’t listening to his voice speaking through your mouth, you don’t see how your gestures already mirror his; you don’t see him in the way you hold your body, in the way you sign your name. You don’t hear his whisper in your blood.
~ Salman Rushdie, East, West

I’d love to know how Dad saw me when I was six. I’d love to know a hundred things.  When a parent dies, a filing cabinet full of all the fascinating stuff also ceases to exist. I never imagined how hungry I'd be one day to look inside it.
~ David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks 

Because Dad told you he’d be here forever. Because I thought forever was like Mars – far away.
~ Kwame Alexander, The Crossover

We never get over our Fathers, and we’re not required to. (Irish Proverb)
~Martin Sheen, Along the Way: The Journey of a Father and Son

Three Years On

Earlier today I reposted Jenny Jones' beautiful, sensible, smart, poetic observations and contemplations on the border crossers, the refugees, the so called “illegals.” The original post is from November of 2011.

Here are her observations today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 I got to thinking about all that has happened in the last three years, surrounding this issue.

Unfortunately, not enough. I, personally, have learned a lot more about how US foreign policy and drug laws are the direct cause of much of the poverty and violence that exists in South American countries today.

 I have learned the difference between "undocumented" and "illegal". It is not illegal to be human and want safety and security for your family.

In Arizona, SB 1070, the "Papers, Please" law has been enacted and parts of it struck down.

 I have participated in rallies, and met good and brave people, fighting for "legal" status in a country they have known as home since they can remember. Local activists (documented and undocumented), like the Puente Human Rights Movement, have put their lives and their families at risk, to stand up for good people who are forced to live in the shadows, and are demonized by far right politicians as leaches and criminals.

Check out Network Nuns on the bus!

The Dream Act has given temporary refuge to undocumented youth, who know nothing other than life in the US, and want nothing more than to be allowed to live, work, and raise their families in this great country. Yet, we continue to tear families apart and deport good, hard working people. President Obama's promises of immigration reform have evaporated, as he steps up the deportation process and politicians on both sides use the issue to pander to the voters.

Individuals, like Dennis Gilman give of their time and talent, to document the injustices perpetrated by our society and tell their stories. Churches, like the University Presbyterian Church in Tempe, and other people of faith, are standing up to the moral injustice of our broken immigration system, and providing sanctuary to families who are threatened to be torn apart.

 As Donna says, this issue is as relevant today as it was three years ago. I would say that it is even more so today.

Pa a northern city
I went to work
I left my life
Between Ceuta and Gibraltar
I am a line in the sea
Ghost in the city
My life is prohibited  

 ~Manu Chao, Clandestino

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jenny Jones is a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, full time job working citizen and a fabulous friend. I'm fortunate to count her as one of my closest amici.

On the Road Again

I seem to be at Logan again. Huh.

Interestingly, today I got from home  to airport and through the security   checkpoints s in  LESS THAN 90 MINUTES!  Normally, a journey like that'll take two hours.

Somewhere there's  a public transportation angel who just got her wings.

This time I'm headed out to Phoenix for a fast visit with Jenny. You know Jenny -- awesome babe, smart as all hell, the chica I went to high school with but never met until I joined Facebook? Yup, that's her.

Oh and if you look in the dictionary under the words gracious and diplomatic, you'll find a pic of her Yes. Fer reals!

Blows my mind how geographically far apart I am from family and best chums. I'm thankful for Jet Blue -- at least until transporter beams are invented.

Jojo was a man who thought he was a loner
But he knew it couldn't last.
Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona
For some California grass.
Get back, get back.
Get back to where you once belonged 

Get Back -- The Beatles

Timmi's Birthday Pie

Jenny's third in from the left

Guest post by the awesome Jenny Jones

It’s approaching mid August, and I was coming up on the last 2 days of my summer vacation. The first five days were spent at our off grid retreat in Eastern Arizona. It’s 30 miles from anywhere and, at 6200 feet, it’s provides a welcome respite from the Phoenix summer heat and the hustle and bustle of the city.  My husband and I cherish the small amount of time we get to spend up there -- it’s a  four and a half hour drive each way.

John needed to get back to his business (Ed. note: Turtles Treasures is a consignment shop with the most amazing vintage furniture and way more. If you’re in the Phoenix area, you just HAVE to visit!) and there were things we needed to do around the house.

Too soon we had bid our little retreat good-bye and head back to the city.  It was now Friday. I had spent the past two days cleaning and organizing, and planned to do the same on Saturday.  Until  I received an invitation from a FaceBook friend to go on a Saturday hike.  It’s Friday 9 pm, mind you.  I’m getting ready to go to bed and this invitation just pops up.  The carpool leaves at seven am sharp from a meeting place that is 45 minutes from my home.

No, can’t do it. Too short a notice, and I’ve got stuff to do.

Well, it just so happened that Saturday would have been my mother’s 90th birthday, had she still been here. This is just the sort of thing she loved to do in her younger years. What better way to honor her memory, right?

I thought my friend, who I had never met in person, would be there and I'd get to meet him.  That’s another good reason to go, right? Turns out he can’t hike anymore, due to a medical condition.  So, I wouldn't know anyone in the hiking group.

I should just stay home and work, like I'd planned, right?

Except, in the three years since my Mom passed away, I have discovered, why she loved the Unitarian Universalist faith so much.  And the group I would be traveling and hiking with would be a sister UU congregation’s Outdoor group. I have found, in my UU brethren, a community of people I can feel comfortable and at ease with. So, I’d be spending the day riding in a car and enjoying nature’s beauty with a group of UU’s. 

Again, how could I better honor my mother’s memory?  So I got a lunch together, threw some stuff into my backpack, and went to bed, looking forward to the grand finale for my summer vacation. The things we do for our mothers, right?

As expected, it was a wonderful group of people, and I now have five new friends.  It was a gorgeous day.  We hiked a trail up to the lookout tower on Bill Williams Mountain, near Williams, Arizona. The trailhead, at about 6900 feet altitude, was a mixture of Ponderosa pine and junipers, dotted with colorful wildflowers and Cliff Rose. It was not too terribly hot, and the trail was very well shaded.  A gorgeous day. 

Are you having fun, Mom?

As we ascended the trail, the junipers turned to aspen, and the birds provided the musical backdrop for some breathless conversation. The trail culminated at a lookout tower with astounding vistas that went for miles and miles before dissolving into the sunny blue sky.

By the time we got back to the parking area, we were all feeling the effects of several  hours of a moderately strenuous hike in our legs, and were famished.  Williams  has a nice assortment of restaurants along their old Route 66 downtown area. Should we go to the Mexican place, or the Italian place, or one of the diners? I was leaning toward Mexican or Italian. But Roger and Barry were drooling over the sign by the Pine Country Café, touting home made pie.  Well, no one makes as good a pie as my Mom used to make, so I wasn’t so taken with the idea of pie, but hey, I’m sure I can find something on the menu to fill my empty tummy.  My huevos rancheros were excellent (yeah I got my Mexican food).

 I decided to bring a piece of that home made pie back for my pie-loving hubby.  They must have had 50 varieties.  When I saw the peach/apple/cherry, my mouth started watering.  And that crust did look really good. Yeah, I came home with two pieces -- which I warmed up for breakfast this morning.  Now, like I said, no one bakes a pie like my Mom (except maybe my sister).  She set the bar way up there for me.  But the crust on this pie was every bit as good as my Mom’s.

Yeah, I think my Mom must have been in that kitchen, directing the baking of the pies, as I was playing in the woods. 

Happy Birthday, Mom.  And thank you.  For everything. This bite’s for you.
________________________________________________
Jenny Jones is a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, full time job working citizen and a fabulous friend.

Hoodies up AZ: Justice for Trayvon Rally - Jenny in Phoenix

My good friend, Donna, asked me to say ‘a couple of words' about the Hoodies up AZ: Justice for Trayvon Rally in Phoenix yesterday. She should know by now that it's impossible for me to say just ‘a couple of words’ but I will do my best not to ramble too terribly much.

It was a very peaceful rally, focused on Community and looking out for each other -- looking out for the children and making sure that the young black men in the community are not putting themselves in harm's way.  Although most of the speeches were directed at our dark skinned brothers and sisters, I, as a white Anglo Saxon, was made to feel included in the community. As much as I wish I could say we are all color blind, I don't think it is realistic to say that will ever happen. That said, I wanted to focus on what happened after the rally. And, specifically, how it was presented by the media. Not that it was presented in a bad light. It wasn't. But it was definitely presented from the White perspective.

After the rally a small group of my white anglo Saxon friends and I were catching up with each other when a reporter from a local news station came up and shoved a microphone in front of my friend Sasha's face. The petite Caucasian reporter proceeded to ask her a series of questions about why she was there. Later, when I got home Sasha had posted the following status:

Reminder To Self: If you're white, and you show up in solidarity at an anti-racism event organized by people of color, you will draw news cameras to you like flies to honey. Thus, it might behoove you to either do your homework in advance so that you are on-message and don't accidentally obstruct the movement or learn how to politely but firmly redirect the interviewers toward the ENTIRE PLAZA FULL OF OTHER PEOPLE (many of whom know a great deal more about racism than you do because they actually experience it every day) for an interview instead so that white folks, as usual, are not the ones framing the issue in our media.

Councilman Michael Johnson -- read about what happened to him

Hmmm. The thought hadn't occurred to me at the time.  I commented that I'm sure they interviewed some dark skinned people as well, and it's good to show the issue from all perspectives. Well, you guessed it. I checked that stations' website this morning, and sure enough, there was only one person interviewed, and sure enough, it was my 20 something white friend. Another of Sasha's friends commented that one of the other news stations only showed an interview with a Caucasian, as well.

Yes, our justice system is out of whack. But as long as racial issues are presented only from the White perspective, can we truly make progress? Then again, maybe it takes a white person speaking against racial injustice to validate the issue for mainstream White America. All I know is this, there's lots of work to do, and it will take a community of all colors, sizes, and shapes, to balance the American scale of justice.  And maybe we need to help the media become a bit more balanced, as well.

Post Script: I went back to the local news stations' website tonight, and was pleased to see they had updated their page with a second report, including an interview with a person of color. I felt the two interviews complimented each other quite nicely.
________________________________________________
Jenny Jones is a wife, mother, grandmother, full time job working citizen and a fabulous friend.

Che Cosa è la Famiglia

Scene from Celeste's VERY sober wedding

View from Michal's kitchen

‘the hell is this thing we call ‘family?’

The definition varies from person to person. Really.

For me ‘family’ is a designation that I use for folks who nourish and nurture me, who give as good as they get. Sometimes we’re connected by blood or marriage but, often enough, not. Being kin, merely because we share a bit of biology, a smackeral of DNA, isn’t enough for me to name a person ‘family.’

Jen on Ice

Yes, yez, we ARE still technically famiglia but I don’t necessarily feel the connection or feel the duty/need/pull to save a life tonight (to wax all purply hyperbole).
Elton John -- Someone Saved My Life Tonight

What inspires this? There’s a lot of mother-love/gratitude/missing happening on Facebook lately. Including a funny from my pal Brian.

My fab talented cousin Della

My mother and I were never close. We were far too different and she lacked the ability to understand me in any meaningful way or accept me for who I was. That is, until The Amazing Bob and I married. All of a sudden she could love me, she could be open, more relaxed and supportive. Apparently I'd been a wholly alien being before.

Cindy's wedding

She would’ve been able to go farther still had I been able to have children/give birth but she understood that, due to the Nf2, I could not. She spent most of her life feeling sorry for me -- thinking, because I wasn’t married, that I was unloved and had no friends. Truth be told, I wanted her to accept me/love me on my terms NOT just because I was connected to a man. This being a significant part of why it took 17 years of living in sin (I just love that phrase!) before I agreed to wed The MOST
Amazing Bob.

Jenny's puppies -- Odie and Bonnie

Me, Daddy and Helen

Oni, Jen, TAB, The Green Miles and me

She felt horrifically guilty for passing Neurofibromatosis Type 2 down to me, in large part because this meant I couldn’t risk pregnancy and childbirth (this being no big deal for me. The only children I ever wanted were The Green Miles and my fabulous Helen. Someone’d already gone through that nasty prego shite for me! Yea me -- I won!)

In any case, in her last few years on the planet, I let go of my need for her to understand me. (took me bloody long enough, eh?) and focused on providing her with news and chatter about the things that mattered to her -- children, her relatives, TAB and my friends (who she could see, now that I was wearing a wedding band).

We got on well in those last few years.

I have a lot of fabulous sisters and a few awesome brothers now. Genetic connections not required, nor does it automatically put you outside the velvet rope of my heart.

Song for the Deaf*

*awesome album and tune name from Queens of the Stone Age.

Stopped by my friendly, neighborhood, new fav head shop, Buried Treasures after work today. I only just discovered the joint last week after working  nearby for almost a year. Sheesh — took me long enough!

I had a rough day in the pixel mines and absolutely needed to treat myself. You know, some days it takes more than a Sesame Street cupcake to kick start the old joi de vivre. Today I found just the thing — it’s a light, loose weave, purple tie dyed cotton summer bedspread.

What’s up with my middle aged re-embrace of the hippy, dippy, Grateful Dead following, stoner look? Eh, I blame my friend Jenny’s husband John (not to be confused with Jen of mayhem causing, escapade fame).

John's the proprietor of Turtle’s Treasures in Phoenix, Arizona — a joint packed with unbelievably gorgeous, nicely priced vintage furniture, books (BOOKS! me and Mr. Books, we got a thing going on), tchotchkes AND tie dyed apparel. Put on one of these fab-ola, colorful schmattas and you’re automatically in a better mood or, at least, a calmer state of being. Honest and true!

So yeah, it’s all about mood enhancement and color and shit.

Here’s the extra added cool² bit — the proprietor was on cash register duty when I decided to pry my bones outta there. He asked me if I found all I was looking for — at least I THINK that’s what he asked.

Remember — deaf here. I do the lip reading decathlon all day/most days in my attempt to get by in this happening aural world.

So I says to him, I says ‘deaf here — say that again slow and I’ll give reading your lips the old college try.’  This tremendous shop keep immediately and willow leaf smoothly began communicating with me in a form of sign language. It was more charades than anything else BUT I understood everything he ‘said.’ Everything. 

Turns out he’s deaf in one ear. He’s got a keen, first hand concept of what works and what doesn’t in the vast communication fields.

Too cool.

Meanwhile, in trolling the net for info on lipreading I found an intriguing conversation/argument going on at AllDeaf.com.

It all started with this statement and question:

'In my survey of The Exceptional Child education class, there was a chapter about effectively teaching deaf/hoh students. Each group had to present on a chapter and, unfortunately I was not in the group for deaf/hoh because I would have corrected many of the misconceptions they had. One of the major things that stuck out to me was that the group said: The student should have a sign language interpreter if absolutely necessary, but otherwise they can just read lips because interpreters are distracting to everyone else. They said "just read lips" so nonchalantly like it's an easy thing to do. I'm hearing and trying to read lips along with improving my ASL because I want to know as much as I can about how deaf people engage with the world. Lip reading is difficult and exhausting to have to do all the time and many hearing people think it's just natural for deaf people to read lips and they shouldn't need ASL. (editors note: HAH!)Thoughts on this? '

 The disagreements, the assumptions on all sides, fascinate me.

Queens if the Stone Age -- A Song for the Deaf

Ain't It Good To Know You've Got a Friend -- Take 2

So many people poo poo Facebook, declaring that Facebook friends aren't real friends. To a large extent, that is true. But if, out of 50 of these artificial friends, one becomes an actual real friend, then it’s worth sorting through those 49 not-so-real friends,  to find the true ones.

Through Facebook, I've had a 2nd opportunity to get to know people who I've known casually at one point in my life but never got a chance to really know.  From my current co-workers, to cousins and extended family, to people I knew of in high school and beyond.  Two of my friends, who I barely knew in high school, have become instrumental in lending me the social support and encouragement I need in this life to evolve and become a better person. Both of them have actually flown out to Arizona to visit me. How cool is that?

Jenny

Both of these friends inspire me, as I watch them struggle through daunting challenges, with the tenacity and courage of a pit bull. Donna is one of these friends.  I was very shy in high school. I was not one to join activities; my horizons, in those days, were limited mostly to the people I sat by in classes. Regrettably, I went through the motions in high school and missed out on so much. I didn't get involved in activities where I would meet people with similar interests. 

I knew who Donna was.  I knew absolutely nothing about her.  And I’m sorry to say, at that point in my life, I did not have enough self confidence to go out there and find out.  Donna, on the other hand, had the courage to put herself out there and join in some of the high school activities. Unfortunately, as I found out later, she was bullied on a regular basis. A small group of girls found it quite entertaining to harass her and do very hurtful things to her. I so admire her courage for getting through that horrible time.  This courage has served her well throughout her life and inspires me to take chances in my life -- to get past my fear of failure, which has played too large of a role in my life.

Donna

I wish I had known Donna back then. I wish I had had the courage back then to get more involved and befriend people like Donna -- kindred spirits who could have helped me to become more adventurous and live life more fully. I could have helped them brave the cruelty and bullying that our fellow humans are so capable of orchestrating on those who seem different -- those who are not quite “one of us.”  Thank goodness Donna never has been and never will be “one of them!” My not real Facebook friends give me the support and courage to be myself and act accordingly in my everyday life.

Thank goodness I have, in the last 40 or so years, figured out that I really am a pretty awesome person (do you know how hard it still is for me to say that?).  Thanks to Donna, and many of my not real Facebook friends, I can say that -- AND believe it. I may not be able to gather all of these friends together into a Utopian little neighborhood, where we could be present with each other physically, as well as virtually but I can, for an hour or so a day, be with them as my schedule allows.  I am thankful that, through Facebook, I have been given a 2nd chance at Friendship. I have met many people that I may never meet in person. But I can tell you, they are real. They are like buried treasures that I have walked by a hundred times, never knowing they were there.  It took Facebook to unbury them and point me in the direction of new friendships.  These are very real friendships that help me to make it out there in the “real” world.

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Jenny lives in Phoenix Arizona with her husband, 2 dogs and 2 cats. And she totally ROCKS!!!

Gila Wilderness Visit Part 3

The third and final installment of The Gila Wilderness trip by my awesome friend Jenny Jones
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Day 3: On our 3rd day at the Gila Wilderness area, we explored the Mimbres area of New Mexico.  This time, we headed East on the Trail of the Mountain Spirits. This area is named after the Mimbres Indians, who once lived here. Although the area is a little lower in elevation than the Gila Wilderness area, it was just as scenic. We ambled along rolling hills, pastures, and wildlife, including an abundance of mule deer. We had some excellent New Mexican cuisine at a little bar and diner we stopped at, along the way.

Day 4 took us to Silver City, New Mexico. Along the way, we stopped and explored the town of Pinos Altos, about halfway between our hotel and Silver City. Pinos Altos (High Pines) is located smack dab along the Continental Divide, at a little over 7000 ft in elevation. The town was originally inhabited by gold miners, in 1860. Today’s inhabitants are mostly artists and tourists.

There are several historic buildings in this town, and they provide you with signs to follow for a little driving tour of the points of interest. Among the treasures found here, were an old adobe church, the Buckhorn Saloon and Opera House (which was closed for renovations when we were there), and the old courthouse. The Two Spirits café, in “downtown” Pinos Altos, served us up a wonderful breakfast. The menu offered some unique and diverse cuisine -- I really need to go back there so I can try some or the other dishes!

We hit Silver City on Farmer’s Market day. We enjoyed wandering around the booths, and chatting with the locals. Silver City is a very dog friendly town. The local downtown businesses were happy to have Bonnie come in to visit, and most had treats to offer her. I’m sure she thought we were trick or treating!

The next day, we headed back to Phoenix.  We took the longer, scenic route, back. Highway 180 runs north and south along the AZ, NM border, taking us through beautiful, mountain and high desert terrain. We passed through many old towns, with beautiful old adobe buildings, both restored and not.  We knew that we would need to come back and explore this area in more detail.

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Jenny lives in Phoenix Arizona with her husband, 2 dogs and 2 cats. She works full time as a customer service agent for a property and casualty insurer. In her spare time, she likes to help her 
hubby out with his resale/consignment store, volunteer, and has recently become involved and passionate about  "protesting," AKA advocating for social and economic justice.