And Now for the Rest of the Story
First you have to read the Celestine Prophesy Post before reading this one--I don't know how to move things around on my blog.
Well, we moved into this great sandstone house with wood floors, beam ceilings. It was two bedrooms, one bath, but beggers can't be choosy, and rent was only $50.00 a month. (long time ago). Well, it turned out the house was a duplex, and the other side of the house was the alcohol halfway house for the Res. The guys were all very nice, we were just warned not to give them cough medicine, alcohol wipes, or mouthwash if they asked, but other than that, they were cool.
The house we had been moved into had been the residence of the half-way house manager. He and a couple of his staff had gone to a conference in San Diego and "got lost", so while he was AWOL, they moved his furniture out of the house and moved us in. About two months later, he shows up at the door. I told him that all his stuff had been taken to his mom's house, and he left without a comment. Never saw him again.
Lots more stories about this house, but I will save them for another post.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
My Version of the Celestine Prophesy
I don't know how many of you guys have ever read any of the Celestine Prophesy Books, but I wanted to share one of those moments that afterward makes you think "hmm".
My first major job in Public Health was working for the San Bernardino County Health Department in California. I didn't stay long (culture shock of moving from a small southern town got to me quickly). However, while we were there, we kept visiting Arizona. We made a trip to the Grand Canyon and travelled through the Hopi Reservation. Now my experience with American Indians prior to that was a couple of trips to Cherokee, North Carolina. My exhusband (see previous post) and I were somehow drawn to the desolation and drama of the area. After growing up on the East Coast, Arizona is like an alien planet.
Well, when we had decided that we didn't belong in that West Coast Rat Race, I started scanning the LA Sunday times for jobs, when what should catch my eye? There was a job listing for a Health Educator for the Hopi Tribe, in Kyokotsmovi, Arizona. I sent my application in, not expecting to hear back. Yet, a couple of weeks later, I got a call asking if I could come out for an interview. So, we packed up the kids (just 2 at that time), jumped in our old VW Bug and drove to the "Res". The interview went well, and the health educator from Keams Canyon took us on a tour of the reservation.
Well, there aren't many trees out there, so as we were driving down Second Mesa, there were a few Cottonwoods by this old warehouse building, with a sandstone building across the street. We were informed that there was also a sacred spring, and right up the road were the "Corn Rocks".
I told my ex at the time--if I got the job and we moved to Hopi, I wanted to live in the stone building-with the trees.
Well, at the end of the interview they asked if I could bring a mobile home out with me if I got the job, because housing was very scarce. Me, just out of grad school, up to my neck in student loans--nah, if you don't have housing, I couldn't take the job.
So, we returned to California and figured that was that--
Well, two weeks later, I got a phone call--We have a house, will you take the job? My only question was "Indoor plumbing?", Yes it was, and I was moving to Arizona.
Well, they told me that they would have someone meet me at the Second Mesa Trading Post to take us to our new house. It was July--crossing the desert in a U-Haul pulling a volkswagon with two kids was loads of fun. As we pulled into Flagstaff, a thunderstorm came up and the temperature probably dropped 20 degrees.
We make it on over to the trading post and waited. Up on the top of the mesa, you could hear the Home Dance with the tortoise shell rattles echoing down to the folks pumping gas and buying grocieries. It was an amazing introduction to our new home.
A pick up truck pulls up and the couple inside motion for us to follow them. We started up the mesa, right up the same road that went by the trees, the sacred spring and the sandstone house. They pull into the driveway and indicate that this would be our home. The house I had seen during the interview, the one place with a few tall trees, and a sacred spring, just down from the Corn Rocks.
We lived there for 4 1/2 years. I have never been more aware of my ties with Mother Earth than my time on Hopi. It wasn't always easy, but some of my best memories still take me back in my mind's eye to that day and that house in the trees.
I don't know how many of you guys have ever read any of the Celestine Prophesy Books, but I wanted to share one of those moments that afterward makes you think "hmm".
My first major job in Public Health was working for the San Bernardino County Health Department in California. I didn't stay long (culture shock of moving from a small southern town got to me quickly). However, while we were there, we kept visiting Arizona. We made a trip to the Grand Canyon and travelled through the Hopi Reservation. Now my experience with American Indians prior to that was a couple of trips to Cherokee, North Carolina. My exhusband (see previous post) and I were somehow drawn to the desolation and drama of the area. After growing up on the East Coast, Arizona is like an alien planet.
Well, when we had decided that we didn't belong in that West Coast Rat Race, I started scanning the LA Sunday times for jobs, when what should catch my eye? There was a job listing for a Health Educator for the Hopi Tribe, in Kyokotsmovi, Arizona. I sent my application in, not expecting to hear back. Yet, a couple of weeks later, I got a call asking if I could come out for an interview. So, we packed up the kids (just 2 at that time), jumped in our old VW Bug and drove to the "Res". The interview went well, and the health educator from Keams Canyon took us on a tour of the reservation.
Well, there aren't many trees out there, so as we were driving down Second Mesa, there were a few Cottonwoods by this old warehouse building, with a sandstone building across the street. We were informed that there was also a sacred spring, and right up the road were the "Corn Rocks".
I told my ex at the time--if I got the job and we moved to Hopi, I wanted to live in the stone building-with the trees.
Well, at the end of the interview they asked if I could bring a mobile home out with me if I got the job, because housing was very scarce. Me, just out of grad school, up to my neck in student loans--nah, if you don't have housing, I couldn't take the job.
So, we returned to California and figured that was that--
Well, two weeks later, I got a phone call--We have a house, will you take the job? My only question was "Indoor plumbing?", Yes it was, and I was moving to Arizona.
Well, they told me that they would have someone meet me at the Second Mesa Trading Post to take us to our new house. It was July--crossing the desert in a U-Haul pulling a volkswagon with two kids was loads of fun. As we pulled into Flagstaff, a thunderstorm came up and the temperature probably dropped 20 degrees.
We make it on over to the trading post and waited. Up on the top of the mesa, you could hear the Home Dance with the tortoise shell rattles echoing down to the folks pumping gas and buying grocieries. It was an amazing introduction to our new home.
A pick up truck pulls up and the couple inside motion for us to follow them. We started up the mesa, right up the same road that went by the trees, the sacred spring and the sandstone house. They pull into the driveway and indicate that this would be our home. The house I had seen during the interview, the one place with a few tall trees, and a sacred spring, just down from the Corn Rocks.
We lived there for 4 1/2 years. I have never been more aware of my ties with Mother Earth than my time on Hopi. It wasn't always easy, but some of my best memories still take me back in my mind's eye to that day and that house in the trees.
Wishful Thinking
One of my wishful thoughts has been to get into the publishing world. I have what I think would be great ideas for books, and sometimes when I'm traveling, I make a mental note of the scenery and how I would make that part of my book.
I have had this one idea for the last ten years or so. It came from some of the scenes out west, when you are driving through New Mexico and Arizona. My plan was to drive to some of the old pueblo buildings that were still standing in different states of disrepair and take pictures of them. The Title of the book would be "Return to the Mother", but in Spanish (obviously I don't speak Spanish, or I would have translated it already). The story would be the development and use of adobe around the world, so of course I would have to travel to other countries that used adobe and take pictures there as well. I saw it as a coffee table book, big, glossy and heavy. But, somehow getting bills paid has to come first.
My other book idea would develop into a series. It would be a travelogue, again with lots of pictures. It would basically be the travels along the coastline of the United States, taking pictures of the little fishing towns, beaches and characters that reside there. I would start in Maine at Eastport, and travel down, around, and across to the West Coast, and then up to Washington. Once this one made it big, I would take the coast of South America, etc, etc.
I figure it would be the best of both worlds, I love to travel, I love the ocean, and I love "money". So, I guess one day, I will just have to find someone to pay me to travel, take pictures, and publish my books. Any takers?
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Far From the City of Brotherly Love
I got to make a quick trip to Philadelphia this week, the "City of Brotherly Love". I had been once before in the fall, and being in Philadelphia during a heat wave is an interesting proposition. Luckily, if you are downtown, you can walk through buildings sometimes to get to the next street, so I spent very little time outdoors. It was the news that was so disconcerting in Philadelphia. There have been 10 murders in the last 3-4 days, one being a taxi driver with four children. My taxi driver told of another story where the driver was held at gun point, but luckily wasn't shot.
There was an elderly woman who died in her house because she didn't want to turn on the fans or air conditioners because she was afraid she couldn't pay the electric bill. There were loads of people trying to sit outside because their row homes acted like convection ovens. Everyone seemed to be blaming everyone else. The mayor wanted to bring in more police and state troopers, the police chief wanted the city to raise the pay for the police so they could keep the policemen they have and possibly get more. All in all, a desperate situation, luckily with a short term end in site--a thunderstorm coming down from the north.
Not so for Atlanta, I got back to hear it had been 100 degrees today. I guess in the South we suppose that poor folks, and elderly folks have air conditioners and fans (as we sit in our air conditioned houses).
It's a sad world, not so full of "brotherly love". And then, I got an email from a friend of mine, who is in Sri Lanka working at an elephant orphanage. I want to include her story here because I think it says something that sometimes we forget. We are all in this together. Easy to say, hard to act on. Here is one example of selfless devotion to this thought.
Hope for rain and cooler temperatures.
I have now switched orphanages and I am now at an elephant orphanage for a week. What do I exactly do? The first thing in the morning I clean up, no lie, after 67 elephants who just ate---so yes, I scoop their poop for two hours! Thank God they are vegetarians; their dung is not so bad. Then I feed the baby elephants their bottle with human powder milk and later in the day give them their bath in the river. It is a sight to see 67 elephants stroll down through the bookshops and gift stores as they journey through town to get to the river.
Out of the 67 elephants, 3 of them are disabled. Raja the blind elephant, shot by poachers who also tore his eyes out and he still survived; Punjab with one ear that a hunter tore off; and Sama who accidentally stepped on a land mine and lost a whole foot. So when Sama journeys down the town threw the bookstores, you see her limp and hop to catch up with the rest. I washed Raja several times and he already knows me by my elephant dung smell and because I accidentally scrubbed his eyes (it's hard to tell where they are!). I have a special place in my heart for Sama; even though she is disabled, she feeds the baby elephants with her trunk. I have no problem cleaning her dung.
So yes, my main job description: elephant dung cleaner!
I got to make a quick trip to Philadelphia this week, the "City of Brotherly Love". I had been once before in the fall, and being in Philadelphia during a heat wave is an interesting proposition. Luckily, if you are downtown, you can walk through buildings sometimes to get to the next street, so I spent very little time outdoors. It was the news that was so disconcerting in Philadelphia. There have been 10 murders in the last 3-4 days, one being a taxi driver with four children. My taxi driver told of another story where the driver was held at gun point, but luckily wasn't shot.
There was an elderly woman who died in her house because she didn't want to turn on the fans or air conditioners because she was afraid she couldn't pay the electric bill. There were loads of people trying to sit outside because their row homes acted like convection ovens. Everyone seemed to be blaming everyone else. The mayor wanted to bring in more police and state troopers, the police chief wanted the city to raise the pay for the police so they could keep the policemen they have and possibly get more. All in all, a desperate situation, luckily with a short term end in site--a thunderstorm coming down from the north.
Not so for Atlanta, I got back to hear it had been 100 degrees today. I guess in the South we suppose that poor folks, and elderly folks have air conditioners and fans (as we sit in our air conditioned houses).
It's a sad world, not so full of "brotherly love". And then, I got an email from a friend of mine, who is in Sri Lanka working at an elephant orphanage. I want to include her story here because I think it says something that sometimes we forget. We are all in this together. Easy to say, hard to act on. Here is one example of selfless devotion to this thought.
Hope for rain and cooler temperatures.
I have now switched orphanages and I am now at an elephant orphanage for a week. What do I exactly do? The first thing in the morning I clean up, no lie, after 67 elephants who just ate---so yes, I scoop their poop for two hours! Thank God they are vegetarians; their dung is not so bad. Then I feed the baby elephants their bottle with human powder milk and later in the day give them their bath in the river. It is a sight to see 67 elephants stroll down through the bookshops and gift stores as they journey through town to get to the river.
Out of the 67 elephants, 3 of them are disabled. Raja the blind elephant, shot by poachers who also tore his eyes out and he still survived; Punjab with one ear that a hunter tore off; and Sama who accidentally stepped on a land mine and lost a whole foot. So when Sama journeys down the town threw the bookstores, you see her limp and hop to catch up with the rest. I washed Raja several times and he already knows me by my elephant dung smell and because I accidentally scrubbed his eyes (it's hard to tell where they are!). I have a special place in my heart for Sama; even though she is disabled, she feeds the baby elephants with her trunk. I have no problem cleaning her dung.
So yes, my main job description: elephant dung cleaner!
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Sex Lies and Sales
Blogging has been an interesting experience. Sometimes I delete things I've written, because once I have written it and gotten the emotion out of my system, I don't seem to need it there anymore.
I have been trying to look at other blogs to see what people are writing, and it is an amazing jumble of sex, lies, and people selling stuff. I am sure there must be a better way of finding blogs that you can relate to, but obviously not by clicking on "next blog". Some blogs need an X rating, stuff I would rather not see pop up on my screen. Some blogs take away all the navigation, and you have to click back, then click next blog to make your way to something else.
I've left some comments on other people's blogs, but other than one person, no one seems to reciprocate. Maybe I need to write about sex, lies, or I need to sell something.
Another reason I have deleted a few things from my blog is that I have shown a couple of my friends at work, and I'm afraid that next thing you know, somebody that I've been complaining about will end up on my blog, so I will try to stay more positive, find some jokes to report, make up some lies (just kidding), and yes, I do have a bunch of junk in my garage that maybe I should sell.
So, after another hot one in Atlanta, may your sex be fulfilling, your lies be carefully constructed, and your sales skyrocket.
I did find an interesting joke:
The Old Poodle
A wealthy old lady decides to go on a photo safari in Africa, taking her faithful aged poodle named Cuddles, along for the company.
One day the poodle starts chasing butterflies and before long, Cuddles discovers that she's lost. Wandering about, she notices a leopard heading rapidly in her direction with the intention of having lunch.
The old poodle thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep shit now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, she immediately settles down to chew on the bones with her back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old poodle exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder if there are any more around here?" Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. "Whew!", says the leopard, "That was close! That old poodle nearly had me!"
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for
protection from the leopard. So off he goes, but the old poodle sees
him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up. The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.
The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!"
Now, the old poodle sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?", but instead of running, the dog sits down with her back to her attackers, pretending she hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old poodle
says: "Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!"
Moral of this story..
Don't mess with old farts...age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill! Bullshit and brilliance only come with age and experience!
Nancy
Blogging has been an interesting experience. Sometimes I delete things I've written, because once I have written it and gotten the emotion out of my system, I don't seem to need it there anymore.
I have been trying to look at other blogs to see what people are writing, and it is an amazing jumble of sex, lies, and people selling stuff. I am sure there must be a better way of finding blogs that you can relate to, but obviously not by clicking on "next blog". Some blogs need an X rating, stuff I would rather not see pop up on my screen. Some blogs take away all the navigation, and you have to click back, then click next blog to make your way to something else.
I've left some comments on other people's blogs, but other than one person, no one seems to reciprocate. Maybe I need to write about sex, lies, or I need to sell something.
Another reason I have deleted a few things from my blog is that I have shown a couple of my friends at work, and I'm afraid that next thing you know, somebody that I've been complaining about will end up on my blog, so I will try to stay more positive, find some jokes to report, make up some lies (just kidding), and yes, I do have a bunch of junk in my garage that maybe I should sell.
So, after another hot one in Atlanta, may your sex be fulfilling, your lies be carefully constructed, and your sales skyrocket.
I did find an interesting joke:
The Old Poodle
A wealthy old lady decides to go on a photo safari in Africa, taking her faithful aged poodle named Cuddles, along for the company.
One day the poodle starts chasing butterflies and before long, Cuddles discovers that she's lost. Wandering about, she notices a leopard heading rapidly in her direction with the intention of having lunch.
The old poodle thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep shit now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, she immediately settles down to chew on the bones with her back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old poodle exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder if there are any more around here?" Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. "Whew!", says the leopard, "That was close! That old poodle nearly had me!"
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for
protection from the leopard. So off he goes, but the old poodle sees
him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up. The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.
The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!"
Now, the old poodle sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?", but instead of running, the dog sits down with her back to her attackers, pretending she hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old poodle
says: "Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!"
Moral of this story..
Don't mess with old farts...age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill! Bullshit and brilliance only come with age and experience!
Nancy
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