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Thursday, November 11, 2010
Hallelujah Chorus at Macy's
I came across a link to this in a newsletter I get and almost didn't look at it. What a joy I would have missed! Here you go and enjoy!
http://www.creativeminorityreport.com/2010/11/awesome-pop-up-hallelujah-chorus-at.html
http://www.creativeminorityreport.com/2010/11/awesome-pop-up-hallelujah-chorus-at.html
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
HOOD TO HERO
Tomorrow is Veteran's Day. Please take a moment to thank a veteran, no matter what you think of war. They have sacrificed more for you than anyone other than God.
HOOD TO HERO
by Joseph Walker
As a high school senior in the early 1970s, there were a lot of places I wanted to go: Europe, Hawaii, backstage at a Chicago concert, the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders locker room. But there was one place I actually had a chance of going where I definitely didn't want to go.
Vietnam.
Don't get me wrong. I was as patriotic as the next guy. I loved my country. I was almost an Eagle Scout. And I could play a version of "The Star Spangled Banner" on my tuba that could bring tears to your eyes. At least, it brought tears to my band teacher's eyes.
And it wasn't that I had strong feelings one way or the other about the morality of the war. I registered for the draft like I was supposed to when I turned 18, and I wasn't thinking about burning my draft card or moving to Canada or anything like that. The fact is, I didn't know all that much about the war's political implications, and I didn't really care -- not like I cared about my '62 Caddy, my collection of Neil Diamond records and somehow getting a date with a cute little sophomore named Becky.
When it comes right down to it, I didn't want to go to Vietnam because... well, there just isn't any other way to say this -- I was scared. Scared of the jungle. Scared of the Viet Cong. Scared of napalm. Scared of Agent Orange. Scared of Russian weapons. Scared of body bags. Scared of being injured. Scared of being killed. Scared of my high draft number.
Of course, that wasn't my public position. As far as everyone else was concerned, I was just really focused on getting my college education. And doing some volunteer work for my church. And getting married and starting a family. All of which was true. But the cold, hard fact of the matter was, I was interested in those things because they were a lot less frightening than Vietnam -- notwithstanding the prospect of finals, homesickness and potty training.
So it was hard to know what to say when my high school classmate, John, told me he had joined the Marines and would likely be shipping out to 'Nam before the school year was out.
"They can't do that, can they?" I asked, worried almost as much for him as I was for me. "Don't they have to let you graduate from high school first?"
"I'm 19, almost 20," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He smiled at the puzzled look on my face. "I got held back a year," he said, smiling. "Maybe two, I don't remember." Suddenly I felt less embarrassed about how easily he had pinned me during a 9th grade wrestling tournament. It looked like man against boy, because it was.
"Look," he said, "you know I've never been much good at this school stuff. About the only thing I'm any good at is fighting in the parking lot after football games. So I figure I might as well go someplace where they don't give you detention for fighting -- they give you medals."
For the first time in the six years I had known John, I saw peace in his eyes. Peace -- because he was going to war. It didn't make sense, but then, few things did those days. I just knew that John, the parking lot warrior, had found his nobility. He was willing to go someplace and do a job that a lot of us were unwilling to do. In fact, just the thought of going there and doing that scared some of us to death.
And that made him a hero -- at least, to me.
I don't know how many hoods have become heroes in the service of their country. But every Veteran's Day I think about John and others like him who fought for peace.
For their country, and for themselves.
-- Joseph Walkermsn.com>
HOOD TO HERO
by Joseph Walker
As a high school senior in the early 1970s, there were a lot of places I wanted to go: Europe, Hawaii, backstage at a Chicago concert, the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders locker room. But there was one place I actually had a chance of going where I definitely didn't want to go.
Vietnam.
Don't get me wrong. I was as patriotic as the next guy. I loved my country. I was almost an Eagle Scout. And I could play a version of "The Star Spangled Banner" on my tuba that could bring tears to your eyes. At least, it brought tears to my band teacher's eyes.
And it wasn't that I had strong feelings one way or the other about the morality of the war. I registered for the draft like I was supposed to when I turned 18, and I wasn't thinking about burning my draft card or moving to Canada or anything like that. The fact is, I didn't know all that much about the war's political implications, and I didn't really care -- not like I cared about my '62 Caddy, my collection of Neil Diamond records and somehow getting a date with a cute little sophomore named Becky.
When it comes right down to it, I didn't want to go to Vietnam because... well, there just isn't any other way to say this -- I was scared. Scared of the jungle. Scared of the Viet Cong. Scared of napalm. Scared of Agent Orange. Scared of Russian weapons. Scared of body bags. Scared of being injured. Scared of being killed. Scared of my high draft number.
Of course, that wasn't my public position. As far as everyone else was concerned, I was just really focused on getting my college education. And doing some volunteer work for my church. And getting married and starting a family. All of which was true. But the cold, hard fact of the matter was, I was interested in those things because they were a lot less frightening than Vietnam -- notwithstanding the prospect of finals, homesickness and potty training.
So it was hard to know what to say when my high school classmate, John, told me he had joined the Marines and would likely be shipping out to 'Nam before the school year was out.
"They can't do that, can they?" I asked, worried almost as much for him as I was for me. "Don't they have to let you graduate from high school first?"
"I'm 19, almost 20," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He smiled at the puzzled look on my face. "I got held back a year," he said, smiling. "Maybe two, I don't remember." Suddenly I felt less embarrassed about how easily he had pinned me during a 9th grade wrestling tournament. It looked like man against boy, because it was.
"Look," he said, "you know I've never been much good at this school stuff. About the only thing I'm any good at is fighting in the parking lot after football games. So I figure I might as well go someplace where they don't give you detention for fighting -- they give you medals."
For the first time in the six years I had known John, I saw peace in his eyes. Peace -- because he was going to war. It didn't make sense, but then, few things did those days. I just knew that John, the parking lot warrior, had found his nobility. He was willing to go someplace and do a job that a lot of us were unwilling to do. In fact, just the thought of going there and doing that scared some of us to death.
And that made him a hero -- at least, to me.
I don't know how many hoods have become heroes in the service of their country. But every Veteran's Day I think about John and others like him who fought for peace.
For their country, and for themselves.
-- Joseph Walker
Post Surgery Update
Good morning friends,
I am now a week post-hysterectomy and finally get past a few hitches in the healing. There are many concerns with abdominal surgery and even more when the bowel tears in the process of the surgery. It has been repaired, but keeping the plumbing working with meds that work against the plumbing has been a bit of a challenge. Nausea was pretty intense as well,so the dr. prescribed a drug for that and I now feel nearly human. My energy levels are still reducedand that's OK. As long as I have no problems sleeping, I will sleep.
I admit to having cabin fever, though. The highlight of my day is when someone calls or comes by to check on me. It does matter. I am looking forward to going to the Empowerment Network monthly meeting this Saturday and seeing friends and making new ones. Perhaps if things go well next week, I can get back to actively mentoring my mentee. We'll see.
The dietary transitions are going fairly well. I can definitely tell when I've had wheat, though. The meal sits heavily on my stomach and gives me gastro issues. More convinced than ever that the changes I'm making will benefit my health greatly.
I am now a week post-hysterectomy and finally get past a few hitches in the healing. There are many concerns with abdominal surgery and even more when the bowel tears in the process of the surgery. It has been repaired, but keeping the plumbing working with meds that work against the plumbing has been a bit of a challenge. Nausea was pretty intense as well,so the dr. prescribed a drug for that and I now feel nearly human. My energy levels are still reducedand that's OK. As long as I have no problems sleeping, I will sleep.
I admit to having cabin fever, though. The highlight of my day is when someone calls or comes by to check on me. It does matter. I am looking forward to going to the Empowerment Network monthly meeting this Saturday and seeing friends and making new ones. Perhaps if things go well next week, I can get back to actively mentoring my mentee. We'll see.
The dietary transitions are going fairly well. I can definitely tell when I've had wheat, though. The meal sits heavily on my stomach and gives me gastro issues. More convinced than ever that the changes I'm making will benefit my health greatly.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Gotta Read The Labels
Since researching the effects of soy on endometriosis, I have made a commitment to go soy free. I must admit that of all of the dietary transitions I've made, this one is the one that is proving the hardest.
It seems that the food producers - in their never-ending quest to label things 'high protein" - are adding soy protein or lecithin to darn near everything. Even things that aren't remotely related to a soy product - like almond milk! The hubber went to the grocery store and bought me a bunch of gluten free, dairy free and he thought - soy free - products. Several of the products contained some form of soy. Not good. I have started keeping a list of the brands to avoid and why and we will have to refer to it and really carefully read labels. I do but the hubber is learning. He is wonderfully supportive so I appreciate his efforts in this journey.
For someone like me whose body goes into overdrive with estrogen, having an estrogen accelerator like soy is not a good thing.
This is definitely a learning experience.
It seems that the food producers - in their never-ending quest to label things 'high protein" - are adding soy protein or lecithin to darn near everything. Even things that aren't remotely related to a soy product - like almond milk! The hubber went to the grocery store and bought me a bunch of gluten free, dairy free and he thought - soy free - products. Several of the products contained some form of soy. Not good. I have started keeping a list of the brands to avoid and why and we will have to refer to it and really carefully read labels. I do but the hubber is learning. He is wonderfully supportive so I appreciate his efforts in this journey.
For someone like me whose body goes into overdrive with estrogen, having an estrogen accelerator like soy is not a good thing.
This is definitely a learning experience.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
This Week's Beautiful Spot on the Web
OK, I'm a day late and dollar short, but forgive me. I was wrapping up all of the loose ends before today's surgery. There will be no more posts from me until the end of the week. I expect to be home Thursday or Friday.
Without any further ado, here is this week's entry:
http://pearlshomeandgarden.blogspot.com/
This beautiful blog just invites me in and feels like having a cup of tea with a good friend. Beautiful pictures, yummy recipes and wonderful conversation. Jump on over and give it a look! And don't forget to tell them that I sent you.
Without any further ado, here is this week's entry:
http://pearlshomeandgarden.blogspot.com/
This beautiful blog just invites me in and feels like having a cup of tea with a good friend. Beautiful pictures, yummy recipes and wonderful conversation. Jump on over and give it a look! And don't forget to tell them that I sent you.
Monday, November 1, 2010
My Name is Paulissa And I Am An Omnivore
I was given a good round of butt chewing over my use of the term vegetarian while still eating chicken occasionally. To put this into context, I have many friends who while eating vegetarian most of the time, enjoy the occasional fish or chicken dinner. Usually this occur once a month or so. Since they are more vegetarian than not (proportionally), they term themselves vegetarians. I never thought much of having to qualify it with a different term. I posted a link to a chicken recipe and the backlash and vitriol was swift and quite amazing. One woman told me that I would burn in hell for being so insensitive. It was certainly not meant to be offensive. Wow, really?????
To each his own but the vitriol for not using the term omnivore because chicken occasionally ends up on my menu. Oh the horror! I understand that the choice to eat or not eat meat is intensely personal and some people avoid it for moral objections, some people do it because they don't feel the food is safe, some decry cruelty and still others do it because their bodies rebel against the food. As for me, I am going gluten, soy and dairy free because those are the 3 things that contribute to endo and since there is no guarantee of no further adhesions even after the hysto tomorrow, I want to do what I can to keep from having any furtho endo surgeries. So. . .more plants and less processed foods and sugar figure into the mix with the side effect of weight loss.
I just don't believe in demonizing food and what people eat. Sure, some foods are healthier than others, but we have freedom of choice and should allow others to exercise theirs. For the record, I am not a big fan of labels. I believe they negate anything said after the label is used.
To each his own but the vitriol for not using the term omnivore because chicken occasionally ends up on my menu. Oh the horror! I understand that the choice to eat or not eat meat is intensely personal and some people avoid it for moral objections, some people do it because they don't feel the food is safe, some decry cruelty and still others do it because their bodies rebel against the food. As for me, I am going gluten, soy and dairy free because those are the 3 things that contribute to endo and since there is no guarantee of no further adhesions even after the hysto tomorrow, I want to do what I can to keep from having any furtho endo surgeries. So. . .more plants and less processed foods and sugar figure into the mix with the side effect of weight loss.
I just don't believe in demonizing food and what people eat. Sure, some foods are healthier than others, but we have freedom of choice and should allow others to exercise theirs. For the record, I am not a big fan of labels. I believe they negate anything said after the label is used.
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