This has been an odd Thanksgiving for me. I realized a week or so ago that it's been ten years since I've spent this holiday with my family. And even though I'm not really sorry to miss some parts of it (the drama), I do miss the people. ( More... )

I had a birthday on Sunday. My thanks again to those who sent greetings.

Things are bleak here. I can't find other work, I'm behind on everything I owe, and today will apparently be the last day I have a cell phone because the choice is to renew it or buy groceries, and food is more important.

I know that offering sales doesn't usually bring me much business, but I'm trying anyway. Through November 30, 2009: 10 percent off everything at Rebeccaworks. Spreading of the word is most appreciated.

I'm trying to raise as much money as possible.

Another thing: if you plan to sign up for that big-name movie delivery service, please do so through the affiliate link at the bottom of the page linked above. It won't cost you any more, and I'll make a commission. There's also an affiliate link there for one of the large department stores, if you're so inclined. I'm not mentioning names to avoid any violation of terms of service.

Feel free to share this entry with anyone you think might be doing any shopping!

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Late Wednesday evening, when I was thinking I wanted to write something about my mother on what would have been her 98th birthday, my computer's power supply decided it wanted to create some excitement of the "let's short out!" variety.

I used the last of the battery power to post to Facebook and Twitter, knowing that about 90 per cent of the people who know me online would check there. Then I shut down the computer and started thinking how to deal with this.

I decided I'd go see my friend Chris, who works with business machines and knows the ins and outs of power supplies, to see if he had any miracles handy. For several reasons I couldn't go on Thursday, but Friday morning I called to ask if he'd have time to take a look at it. He did, so off I went.

While I was there, I visited with him and his partner, Bradley, and saw the setup for their new-to-me shop (Bradley deals with mostly vintage dolls), and got a lot of attention from their dog, ChoCho, who is utterly adorable and a very loving girl.

The visit would have been wonderful under any circumstances, but it was even moreso because Chris could fix the adapter. I am extremely relieved, because I definitely can't afford a replacement.

I spent time last night getting caught up, and have more of that to do today. I'm so happy to have my computer working again!

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Things are exponentially better than they were last night. Money came in early this morning, and I took myself to the rental office as soon as they opened.

I have some breathing room, and I'm infinitely grateful to all who have helped, however that help has come.

This is a summation of how it is I got to where I am today. It's behind a cut since it covers material some of you already know, and it's a bit long. ( Read on... )

I've finally managed to post pictures of the first nine pieces of costume jewelry for sale, and written an entry with brief descriptions of them. Instead of cross-posting this one, I'm going to share the link. If you're interested, please go look!

I hate naysayers. I was reminded of this when someone went all naysayer-y on a friend of mine, and upset my friend in the process. But it goes way back for me.

I particularly hate the kind of naysaying where someone tells you that you're going to fail at something before you even get started. You know---the people who have no faith in you and/or no particular knowledge of the endeavor you're attempting.

That sort of naysaying often has me wanting to ask the sayer, "Who the hell do you think you are?" Since being able to do that is a little unusual, I usually just wind up grumbling to myself (and now to you!) about people thinking they have some magic knowledge of my future.

The more I thought about the subject, though, the more I realized that far more important than what some stranger (or even friend) has to say on the subject is that we not become our own naysayers. We must not tell ourselves that our hopes and dreams will come to naught. That way lies a real potential for us to give up on ourselves.

I've tried very hard to avoid ever naysaying to anyone else. Now I have to remember to be my own yes-sayer.

Yes, Becky, you can.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I am saddened by the loss of Senator Edward M. Kennedy. I watched the memorial gathering and the funeral, and was deeply moved. Along with the rest of the nation, during the past few days I was reminded of (or taught from the beginning about) how many laws of the land were a direct result of his work. He made countless lives better.

One thing that I really appreciated was the family's generosity in setting up a Twitter account, perhaps originally planned for news organizations and others who had real need to know what was going on, but open to all who wished to follow.

I did, and from that learned that the memorial gathering on Friday would be live streamed on the website. (The funeral was live streamed, also, but I watched it on television instead.) I appreciated our being allowed to participate in the laughter and the tears on Friday night.

The funeral bulletin was also made available, for download as a .pdf, here.

Another thing on the website is a place for anyone who would like to leave memories of Senator Kennedy and/or messages for the family.

I'm glad he had the chance to live out his life, and hope that he rests in peace. My condolences and a wish for peace and grace to the family.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, I've just been busy with work things.

Which means the costume jewelry sale got put off. But I haven't forgotten, and will try to get that posted this week.

In the meantime, one day early this month I took my camera with me when I went out errand-running. On my way back to my apartment, I saw something a bit unusual, and thought you'd enjoy seeing it, too. I have no idea why this scooter wound up where it did. Strikes me this would make good writing fodder fodder for someone.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

A long time ago I was at dinner with a couple of friends. One looked at me and said that I always seemed so strong and able to take care of myself that no one thought I needed assistance. I knew at the time he was right. ( long entry... )

I've been quiet because July was a month filled with me being depressed, trying to make ends meet, and trying to both do my work and look for more. As August begins, all the above is still true.

I'm dealing with all of it, but it does tend to make me want to stay away from words.

Those of you who know me or who have been reading a long, long time probably know I'm a believer in second chances (and sometimes third, etc.) in almost all cases. This is something that has long been true for me, and has served me well.

It served me very well on Saturday. I went grocery shopping, and decided to use the taxi company I normally use for the trip home. Yes, this is the company from the trip in April that had so many complications. I decided to call them because with rare exceptions I have had excellent service from that company over the years, and decided they needed another chance.

Now I may be nice but at the same time I'm not stupid. This time, I told myself ahead of time that I would under no circumstances go outside to wait. I also made careful note of the time I placed the call, and planned to call back if a taxi hadn't shown up in twenty minutes. And those two things decided, I settled in to wait the "few minutes" the dispatcher had said it would take.

I only looked out the store window two times. The taxi was pulling in the second time. I got my things and we were on our way.

I'm not sure exactly how much time elapsed between my call and the taxi's arrival at the store, but I am sure I was home within ten minutes of making the call.

I'd say that definitely paid off for all concerned.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

May 10 and Mother's Day and birthdays and anniversaries are all whacked together this year, in ways I couldn't make up if I tried.

Last year, two of the best mothers I ever knew died. These two women were pretty much lifelong friends of mine.

The birthday of one of them was May 10.

And the other one died that day.

And of course I've thought of, and missed, my own mother.

So it would be fair to say this day has been a little prickly for me.

But at the same time, I've had the pleasure of several lovely trips down memory lane, thinking of our times together.

And was grateful. Oh so very grateful.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Ending first: I'm fine.

I knew I needed to get groceries today, even though it's going to be cooler tomorrow. Aside from the fact that I have a package coming tomorrow, I was close enough to being out of food that waiting wasn't an option. So the already over-stressed lady headed off to the shopping center, list and bags in hand

I had paid careful attention to the temperature, and it was fine when I left home. I got to the stores, got what I needed, and called my customary taxi. I was told it would be ten to fifteen minutes, and was fine with that. I sat down to wait, on the bench inside the store. I stood and looked out the windows periodically, but no taxi.

After about twenty minutes, I decided I'd check outside. It was a lovely day, and still didn't feel too hot, especially since there was a breeze. So I stayed outside. And that was my wrong guessing. I thought the taxi would be there in another few minutes. I wound up calling them again after I'd been outside about another twenty minutes. And went back inside, because I realized I was starting to get hot.

I thought I'd be fine once I got back inside, especially if the dratted taxi would just come get me. But I wasn't. I was overheated and dehydrated (though I had been drinking water) and I wound up fainting.

The store manager and an assistant were with me as I came to, and had already called paramedics, who soon arrived. The paramedics were wonderful, and didn't hassle me when I refused to go to the hospital. And I did refuse, because I already know this was the same old heat exhaustion. They did get me ice and a soft drink (used separately), hoping to cool me off and help in the rehydrating.

The cab company got two more calls -- from the store manager this time -- and two hours and fifteen minutes after I called them the first time, my groceries and I got home. And yes, I'm planning to give this taxi company's competition a chance the next time I'm in need of a ride.

And as I said up top, I'm fine.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Today is the thirteenth anniversary of my mother's death. She's been on my mind most of the day. Mercifully, this year I haven't remembered so much the last days of her life as other, much earlier days.

During this week, I've been remembering a time that Mother helped a young man who was trying to obtain conscientious objector status during the Vietnam War. She started out tutoring him in college Spanish, and went on from there.

Another of the wonderful memories.

I got my idea of how to be an activist from Mother. I later on learned the quote, "In a quiet way, you can change the world." And that's how she did it. She did make noise a few times, but a lot of times, she was doing her thing behind the scenes, supporting the things in which she believed.

And the people in whom she believed.

So on this day, I raise my coffee cup to her in love as I remember some very good lessons.

This is my favorite picture of her, with her (our) much-loved dog, Malcolm.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I told part of this to a friend earlier today, and thought I'd make record of the whole story because it's a favorite of mine, and one Mother loved telling on herself.

The preface: my mother was 41 years old when she got pregnant with me, and I'm an only child. Her mother had died when she was in college, and her sister's only child was born when both women were in their early 20s.

So for the first three months my mother was pregnant she thought she was in menopause and was explaining to herself that being sick in the afternoons meant she had picked up a virus. But finally she got tired of the afternoon ick, and went to see her (our) Uncle Bob, a physician. Uncle Bob was Mother's father's brother.

Uncle Bob listened to her tale of stomach bug woe, asked a few questions, and told her she needed to go see her ob/gyn.

Mother's response to that advice was to ask why. Uncle Bob looked at her and said, "Mary, for a smart woman, you can ask some really stupid questions!"

A few months later, Uncle Bob kept Daddy company in the waiting room while I was being born.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Facebook has given me pretty much what I wanted. The new homepage feels a lot like the old Live Feed, without so much information I didn't want to see, thanks in large part to the ability to more closely filter the types of information shown.

At the same time, I think the page is a little cluttered, mainly by the addition of the Highlights section. I appreciate that some people might think that's the best thing since chocolate, but to me it was distracting.

Mercifully, some generous person good at writing scripts disliked it, too, and made a Greasemonkey script for Firefox users that makes Highlights disappear. It also makes several other appearance changes, described in the description on the download page, which is here.

For the whole day I had the new Facebook before I got the script, I was filtering Highlights out using Aardvark, a Firefox add-on that blanks out parts of pages for the time you're there. (It's also useful if you're on a message board and someone has posted something so large it breaks a table.

I was actually looking for something else on Greasemonkey when I ran across the above-mentioned script. I had done a search for ways that would allow filtering certain folks off a Twitter stream without unfollowing them. Let's just say that I love college basketball, too, but damned if I want a timeline that's nothing but play-by-play, which came painfully close to happening yesterday when Carolina was playing Florida State.

And lo, such a temporary filter does exist. I've spent part of this morning testing it, with two of my followees blocked, but as soon as I restarted the browser they were back. And not to worry, neither was really ignored; the filter doesn't block them on TwitterFox, just the main web page.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Early this morning, by the clock, I watched Archbishop Desmond Tutu talking with Craig Ferguson. He was the only guest on the show, and the conversation was excellent. I think my favorite thing about the Archbishop is his lovely sense of humor. I am sure that helps him quite a bit as he goes through life, doing service and inspiring people.

And I remember that he spoke twenty-some years ago at Duke Chapel. His plane was late, so a hymn-sing was rather hastily organized to fill the time before his arrival. The congregation was singing one of the American folk hymns (and I'm sorry, I don't remember which) when he arrived. I remember thinking it was so great that someone who was so unassuming was welcomed by a folk hymn.

Later today I thought about this day last year, when Eve Carson was killed. There was a memorial service today on campus, at which people were urged to live out her legacy of service. More on Eve and memories of her are available in the Daily Tar Heel.

And yes, if you were watching "American Idol," this was the same person mentioned by Anoop Desai.

It was interesting to think of Archbishop Tutu and Eve Carson today. When I think of either of them, I think of a person who has inspired goodness.

The world can do with a lot more people like that.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I am so very glad that my life is such that I could devote much of today to paying attention to history. History years and years in the making. I have witnessed history before, but this is one of the happiest, most joy-filled events ever.

I spent time on Twitter and Facebook today, and one thing that stands out for me is how many people who are not United States citizens were paying attention to the events of the day, sharing in the hope and joy and the excitement.

At various points I'm pretty sure we were passing around the World Wide tissue box, because most everyone I can recall was tearful at some point.

I've heard a lot of people say they never thought they'd live to see the day when a black man became President. I don't want to sound dismissive, because I understand waiting and hoping and fearing.

But honestly, it never occurred to me that a black person wouldn't be elected in my lifetime. I've had a hard time articulating just why that is, but I think it really comes down, for me, to having hope.

I'm glad that President Obama is in office. I'm glad I and my fellow Americans and fellow citizens of the world are able to celebrate. And I'm glad we realize that there is much work to be done, and that so many have indicated willingness to help it be.

The mood in this country as I write tonight is one of hope...and so is mine.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

This entry was written and posted in 2005. It's one of my favorites, and I've reprinted it for Epiphany this year on "Becky Says...." Over there, I added a few paragraphs about Holidailies, which really don't need posting here.

To the Christians, Epiphany is the day when the Magi made it all the way to the endpoint of their journey and saw the baby Jesus, realizing Him to be the Christ.

But the secular meaning of the word, "epiphany," is where my head is this day. That would be the "sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something," according to The American Heritage Dictionary.

A moment when the light comes on bright enough that you can see the truth.

I like epiphanies. I like realizing something is true. Yes, sometimes that truth is ugly to behold and painful to bear. But in the end, knowledge really is power, and even the ugliest of truths holds the blessing of knowledge in its grasp. So let it be that a light shines in the darkness, even if the light illuminates an ugly truth.

Ah, but remember those times when the truth's beauty is magnificent. Those moments, for example, when the answer to a perplexing question comes out of the shadows. Those moments when you realize beyond any shadow of doubt that someone loves you. Those moments when fear is cast aside and hope triumphantly takes charge. Those moments when the light that has shone takes away the weight of the darkness, leaving joy.

As the new year unfolds, I hope we all have the talents and tools to deal with the truths our epiphanies bring to light, the ugly and the beautiful ones.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Years and years ago, my mother taught me one of the most important life lessons I ever learned: that no one on earth was better than I, and no one beneath me. That has served me well.

This afternoon I was reminded of it in a rather unusual place...the checkout lane at the grocery store. I heard a familiar voice, and when I looked up the face in the next lane matched the voice.

I stepped over and introduced myself to Senator John Edwards. We chatted probably about a minute, shook hands, and wished each other well.

I had wanted to have a chance to meet him, but had passed up a couple of political gatherings before he got out of the Presidential race last year (more because of timing than anything having to do with politics). I was glad I had the chance today.

It was a grace note...a lovely moment in an ordinary day.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I've had my head buried in my Rebeccaworks site, adding a new product that I love a lot and hope buyers will too (scrubbers). And I've put on hiatus the more expensive of the baby blankets, because it wasn't selling. I want to concentrate on small pieces, so for at least a while I've quit suggesting that the baby blanket pattern also works well upsized to adult afghan.

Coming soon-ish there will be a free pattern for a handbag and an update to the repairs section.

(This is cross-posted from rebeccaworks, which I'm pretty sure none of you read. That's fine; it's just the occasional craft announcement.)

My first reaction the other day when I heard that Rick Warren had been asked to give the Invocation at President-elect Obama's inauguration was quite frankly relief that it wasn't going to be any member of the Billy Graham hierarchy, specifically that it wasn't Franklin Graham. ( more... )

I wrote this entry three years ago. I love it, and think it deserves to be repeated.

I remember Christmas Eve.

I remember when Christmas Eve was doing the last-minute things with my mother, knowing we were doing them because it was our time to share, not because we couldn't have done them earlier.

I remember when Christmas Eve was Donna coming to our home for the three of us to have Christmas. Later on, that included Ronnie and later still, also Candace.

I remember when Christmas Eve was getting dressed up because I wanted to. And staying dressed up because I could.

I remember when Christmas Eve was going to church for a candlelight Communion service, and the one year when I had a chance to sing, under my breath and just for my mother, Adeste Fidelis in Latin, while the rest of the congregation sang in English. She knew it was a gift to her.

I remember when Christmas Eve was coming home from the candlelight service and playing probably every carol I could think of, just to keep the music going.

I remember Christmas Eve.

I know Christmas Eve.

I know Christmas Eve is different, but in many ways fulfilling.

I know Christmas Eve is music and joy and love.

I know Christmas Eve is holding my loved ones close in my heart, especially those going through rough patches.

I know Christmas Eve is being held in their hearts, too.

I know Christmas Eve.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

This is one of my favorite things.

Until I walked into a store one late December day twenty-some years ago, I had never seen a flute-playing angel. But because I play flute, I had always hoped to find one.

I keep her on the shelf by my piano all year.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

I had another visit this morning from a couple of women looking for Hispanics. Neither woman said the name of the organization they represented, but I'm fairly sure I recognized one of them from a recent visit, and on that one the visitors announced they were from a religious organization and were trying to make sure Hispanics knew they were welcome to participate.

This time, one of the women said they were trying to survey Hispanic households. She then went on to ask if I knew any Hispanic people in this complex, and if so, where did they live.

I said I did know some, but was drawing a blank on who lived where. I went on to say something polite about how I was glad to have such nice neighbors, but just didn't pay much attention to who went into which apartment. I wished them well, then went on about my day.

And for once, I think my startled brain actually did a good thing, instead of just a mildly bland one. I thought about it later, and realized that since no one had actually said what they were surveying about, the whole thing could have been some sort of scam.

I don't know everything about my neighbors. Nor do I sort out my friends by ethnicity, so I would have had to do a mental tally of everyone I know well enough here to have been to visit. The people at my door didn't need to know that.

What I do know is in my years of living here, I've been lucky to be treated with great kindness when I've needed it (the heat exhaustion times come to mind), watched some great kids outside playing, and in general been very happy here.

And I've decided that what I do know is the best.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

Today all the things I've done this week caught up with my neck, and it started hurting. Non-stop-relentless pain on the right side, continuing down into my shoulder. Nothing I haven't had before, but I did wonder why it just would not let up.

Then I realized I hadn't taken anything for it. Quickly remedied that, and my neck is slowly but surely easing. Love Ibuprofen.

In my defense for this particular bit of not-so-smart behavior, I was exhausted and in a lot of pain.

But while it hurt, I remembered lots of other times when I hurt, mainly with my legendary backaches, which have eased off a great deal in the last several years.

I was reminded of those times because I realized at some point that I was every bit as frantic today as I used to be those times when nothing would work to make my back stop aching, but I had to continue to function as a reasonably sane person through it.

The real trick today was dealing with e-mail and other online correspondence. And I'm glad I realized I was in no shape to answer a couple of things before I even started typing replies.

Otherwise, I would have more to regret than just forgetting to take a couple of pills.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...

A longer version is over at Becky Says.... I was tired last night and didn't want to deal with cross-posting and LJ cuts and whatnot.

The new television was to arrive on Tuesday (yesterday), according to the tracking information. Not sure why I checked again on Monday morning, but I did, and saw that the package was in Chapel Hill. I really had to do a grocery run, but that company (unnamed on purpose, but you probably can guess it) has a sort of typical time to be in my apartment complex, so I stuck around through early afternoon before leaving for the store.

Checked the tracking information again after I got home, and sure enough, it said there had been an attempted delivery. But I knew something was very wrong, because the time of the delivery was a point when I was home and not doing anything that would have prevented me from hearing a knock. Also, no notice at my door.

So Tuesday I resigned myself to being available for all ten hours the company says it makes delivery. Opened the draperies, so I could see anyone on the porch. And at around 1:00, I saw movement and then saw a truck pulling away. No one had knocked at my door. I locked my apartment and went out after the truck, but it got too far ahead of me. Even tried shouting, but no luck.

Came back to find three men near my door; one carrying my package. The driver misread the apartment number and had taken the package to a different apartment (where he had also left notice on Monday). The neighbor signed for it, thinking it really was his or a roommates' package. The information was correct on the label, so I have no clue what went wrong.

All is well, I love the new tv, and am sure I'll soon remember the button locations on the new remote.

And the driver can consider it my Christmas gift that I'm not going to complain. That, in this town and in this economy, could cost him his job. I don't have it in me to do that.

With apologies to sci-fi fans in case I've used some of these words to mean things they don't mean. And names of my fellow humans are replaced with initials not theirs, for their privacy. ( more... )

As I'm writing this, I'm listening for a second time to Bev Syke's video clips from Steve Schalchlin's "New World Waking," which had its premiere at Davies Hall in San Francisco last night, as part of the 30th anniversary concert by the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus.

Bev's word for the evening was "Wow!" And she's right. But this isn't a reprise of Bev's entry, or of Steve's. Instead, this is me. Becky the musician, Becky who has done a smidgen of composing, Becky who has played for and sung in my share of concerts. Becky who appreciates the work that goes into such things. And Becky who is picky about music, but rarely admits that.

And in this case, Becky who really likes what she heard. At least in part I'm impressed because I know enough of Steve's story to think he's an amazing person. And because I heard part of this (the song that lends part of its name to the entry title) before when Steve taped a rehearsal and shared it, so I was primed to like the rest.

Go, if you haven't already, and watch the video. And if you can get through "I'm Rising Up" without clapping or weeping (or both), you're very different from me.

This work is a celebration. It's a set of statements. It's an affirmation of life and overcoming and not losing faith. And should make you think, and sing along, and say no to hatred, no matter what you may have learned prior to this moment. Because there is indeed a new world waking. And we are truly blessed that we can be part of that waking.

Now if you'll excuse me, I want to go hit replay.

Cross-posted from Becky Says...