The Way Things Should Be

That little boy
whose passion is music
and computers
and vacuum cleaners
and cricket phones
whose whole being is Joy
is far away.


That little boy
on stroller walks
who sat content

and babbled mystery talk

whose laughter meant
everything
is far away.


That little boy

who loved to be a dog
and his boyish things
bare feet in clover
and playground swings
eating bread reserved for
ducks at the pond
who was fond of apples
and broccoli "trees"
who missed his mama
whenever he was somewhere else
with us . . .

is now going to light up the day
and point out the moon
for others who love him

just as much
as we do.

How I miss that little boy,
Jack.

Love Always ~ Mimi


Good fortune and happiness to James, Trisha & Jackson in their new home in Bakersfield, CA.

Attraction

It's trail time. I'm leaving the city behind.
The sky is forever
The contrast of shadow and light
Alternating cool and hot-white
Play on fractured rocks as old as time.Too fast for my camera:
Ground squirrels and song birdsAnd bold little hummingbirdsUnknown things that rustle the undergrowth
as we pass by.The beautiful day
is the early Sonoran Spring
too soon for wildflowersbut bursting with life
and beauty
too subtle for some to appreciate.
They look at the open landscape
and say,
"It's just desert..."
It is. It really is.
And we'll be back.

Is There an Artiste in the House?

Feast your eyes on this little gem:

Is it an impressively expensive, custom piece

from some posh little boutique in Santa Fe or La Jolla?

No.

Is it, you say ~ a charming treasure snatched up from an elite Palm Springs dead movie star estate sale?

No, it is not.

Is it a long, lost item from Frida Kahlo's forgotten seaside vacation home?

Que lástima.

Is it a trendy cabinet by an up-and-coming contemporary ethnic artist offered at a high-society silent auction?

Nope.

But it is a deliciously sensational find by a Phoenix registered nurse who, in a moment of genius pressured the antique shop to meet her price with a smile, and then gloriously hand-painted by the same with common craft acrylics in a little longer moment of more genius. While it is true the design is not original, her execution of it far surpasses the grossly over-priced version she spied at the shop which first inspired her fit of marvelous creativity. I know, because I saw it. The swirly knobs are to die-for.

(I'd like to see what she does when suturing a cut or wrapping a sprain). Well done, my friend Cathy Mitchell, R. N. extraordinaire!

The Mouth is the Window to the Soul

Sign me up for Wife Swap so I can slap that creeper around! Did you see that?! How do they find this segment of society? Are there more of them? Is it catching? Can we immunize?  

This week's episode featured (probably the first time ever) a perfectly normal American family vs some psycho-licious weirdos who live on a pseudo "farm" and worship the "natural" life as they see it. Upper-most on their list of ritualized devotions is the practice of eating raw meat. Not smoked, not pickled, not sushi ~ just do-it-yerrownself-home-butchered-quivering raw meat. Even chicken. 

For special occasions they bring out jars of putrid, expired raw meat and gobble it up with lip-smacking satisfaction. They don't believe in bathing daily or brushing their teeth. Their house was certifiably and utterly filthy. The four of them had emotions about as stable as sweaty bottles of nitroglycerine. 

The visiting wife took them to a restaurant for dinner so they could experience normal food. Within hours the 2 weenie teenage kids were moaning about how the strange food had made them sick. The camera focuses on the dad virtually collapsing into a fetal position in the bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably because his children were suffering. He accused the stunned guest wife of trying to poison them all.

On the opposing home front, dead-raw-meat-raw-egg-sucking-green-juice-drinking-swapping wife assaulted the host family non-stop. She was scary; long, ratty hair, baggy sweats and wrinkled super-sized t-shirts and a stream of outrageously aggressive demands that her lifestyle was the best thing since soap (er - not that) since carpet-dusting your house with manure. This was all fun and frivolity until we were treated to a close-up glimpse of her mouth. Just a peek. I came out of my seat. 

(Remember Princess Buttercup, presented to the common folk - berated by the old hag? "Boo! Filth! Queen of Putrescence! Rubbish! Filth! Slime! Muck...!")

Can you say "Gingivitis"? "Trench Mouth"? "Anug?" Acute Necrotic Ulcerating Gingivitis? 

What an idiot. Some of these people are so crazy, and their behavior so offensive to common sense, you wonder if they are just making it all up for the momentary notoriety. Here was proof  of at least one fact: they really do abhor first world hygiene.

Now - if I had been the wife, I would avoid the pit-falls of previous contestants; the futile, constant clash to usurp the host family's cherished ways in favor of your own righteousness. In this particular instance, my path would have been clear. Handing the kids a mirror, I would have chosen the power of illustration over argument. 

First, I would use a toothpick to scrape off a bit of the active, seething plaque colony on their teeth as exhibit number 1. Second, I would ask them to drink some punch (or organic Kool-aid) - and then have them look in the mirror again at the expansive wasteland of brightly stained and aglutinative bacteria. There needn't be many words at a time like that. Just a little thoughtful observation. Next (apologizing sweetly for the hanky I am obliged to hold demurely over my nose and mouth), I might ask them which they prefer; chewing their tetched meat with healthy, organic teeth? Or blending it up in a blender?

Will Shatner move over. I am a negotiating genius.

Hide and Seek

Sometimes Life feels a little like Hide 'n Seek ~ you never know what might be around the corner, but we have Faith it will be worth the count-down.


We prepare for the day with an awareness of what's out there.



We keep our eyes open for daily lessons learned, and surprises enjoyed.















We are shod with the power of our personal convictions, which guide us & protect us in our walk through life.
Taking time out for reflection is always nurturing . . . and it keeps us humble.

The view of the world at times can be a little scary; but we try not to let our fear over-come our desire to grow.
Conflicts require our focus and resolve. We eventually learn a key to survival: patience.










And when it's just too much, a good cry can be cleansing.






















Hope can prop us up.

Joy is kin to Hope. It lifts us, and reminds us of our better nature. For some, it is a natural response. For others, it comes as a gentle, latent assurance of what we had in us somewhere - after all.

Love is an outward expression of that inward Joy.




Love is a life force we often take for granted.

We should seek it as if we were gasping for air. We should hold onto it as if it meant everything in the world.



It seems a simple thing to perform life's necessary rituals.


But we sometimes forget how truly simple they are, and consider them just the opposite.

Our obligations to ritual and the mundane are just so many drops in the bucket. Even they are required to fill the bucket eventually, which then is the means by which we wash ourselves and immerse ourselves in the reality of Life. Nothing worthwhile was ever accomplished while ignoring the little things.

We don't want to forget the thrill of a peanut-butter sandwich. It needn't be ordinary. It can be so much more. Sharing with a friend, dressing for the occasion, and just making a picnic of our simple things is probably a wise policy.

We dream.

It shouldn't be startling in the least that some of our dreams are silly or awkward or utterly meaningless.

What matters is that we can.


Dreams are only undefined until we grasp them, and create a means by which to open them up. This is hard work.



And it is not always successful.

But the more we are willing to work on our dreams, the more open we are to seeing possibilities that were just around the corner; only, we didn't know it yet.

We are often drawn to beautiful things.




















Our instinct to look forward has everything to do with our success in Life, and as a person.Our best sympathies, our best moments of generosity and caring for others ~
show what we are made of.

Stepping out into Life with a confidence Heaven saw in us since the very Beginning is a gift we all have as children; and some how lose later as we begin to doubt ourselves.



I can think of only one place one might walk with satin shoes. Sacred places are a full-circle of what we once were, and where we are going.

Senate Seat Sitcom

Camelot Caroline Kennedy is out, the "Nanny" is in. If sitcom darling Fran Drescher can chit-chat with Governor Patterson about her offings towards the U.S. Senate seat vacated by the Hillers, then so can I! We can work out the whole residency thing later, I'm sure. Given the obvious dumbing-down for Senate prerequisites, my qualifications are totally awesome; and once I have a chance to present them to his excellency, the spot is mine.

Queens origins aside, what's she got? We love Drescher for fitting into a size 2 and advocating women's health issues, and certainly respect her status as a uterine cancer survivor. Just because my uterus has not been the subject of meaningful dialogue before doesn't mean it couldn't happen. Even her award-winning Hollywood experience does not promote her chances as much as she thinks it does; everyone knows her agent handled all the contract negotiations - the only thing she had to do was show up in heels and read her lines. If a positive attitude was all that was required, then she would be a delightful shoe-in. But seriously, successful Senating is not all about personality. Some things should change - motherhood should definitely automatically set the standard for performance. Hillary only has one, Fran has none, and yours truly has 5. Rose Kennedy had like 11 or something. See what I mean? Nebulously-defined Life experience is now what it's all about.

Here are the top five reasons I should be considered for Clinton's New York Senate seat:

5. I have ample foreign relations experience.
If the Oral environment isn't foreign territory to 99% of the population, then I don't know what is. Can you tell the difference between a bi-cuspid and a 3rd molar? A fistula and a bifurcation? Where is tooth #7 located in your mouth? When would a 558 carbide bur be preferred over a 335? And could you correctly anticipate gelfoam for packing a "bleeder"? These are pressing questions that effect real change in real lives. I can't even count how many times I said, "Sigame, por favor" or "Abra la boca"and "no te muevas" in perfect Spanish. I not only have experience, I speak the language.

4. I have implemented tough policy.
"I'm sorry, but I must insist you wait here while we address little Tiffany's dental needs. Thank you!"
"You must wear this lead shield, or we cannot proceed."
"Mr. Jones, I can tell that this is not today's lunch. It is not even yesterday's lunch. You are failing to maintain proper oral hygiene."
"Consuming alcohol is not an acceptable pre-operative sedation. We'll have to reschedule."
"You may only play nintendo requisite to the amount of time you first read 'Robinson Crusoe' or some other suitable classic."
"I didn't ask if you wanted to. I said you will..."
"See your MySpace? See this delete button...?"
"Hand over your cell phone. Now."

3. I have lofty principles that will not be compromised.
I believe in fluoride. I will not recommend commercial mouthwashes, or electric toothbrushes - even Butler. You can be an Aborrigini in the bush chewing on a stick and achieve better results; it's all about technique, technique, technique.
I believe you have a right to express yourself freely and without reservation, before 9 PM.
I believe your petition to go out tonight is commensurate with the degree to which your room is clean and the bathroom does not look like a crime scene.
I will never attend a church "trunk or treat" because it is a "safe" Halloween alternative.

2. I have bold leadership skills and collaborative experience.
I chose the Southern plantation owner's side in a civil war unit role-play in high school. My ability to thoroughly research my divinely superior position and present it with a bubble gum cigar in hand and thick, Southern accent reduced my weenie "we're all created equal" Northern Abolitionist opponent to tears. Class had to be dismissed early. I got an 'A'. ~ (p.s. it was role play - pretend)
I served on the Newspaper Committee in Young Adults.
I threatened the Creighton School District with media attention if they did not correct their fondness for rouge school buses holding kids hostage for 2 hours while their non-English speaking driver got lost clear downtown by Bank One Ballpark. They conducted the emergency parent meeting as per my demand, and let us chew up the idiot depot manager to boot.
I can manipulate 13 Nursery kids to conform to my will for several 1o minute stretches at a time.

1. I am experienced in sensitive domestic negotiations.
Yesterday, I politely informed the next door neighbor his motion-sensitive security light was on steady all night and made our bedroom like Las Vegas. He apologized and fixed it.
19 years ago, I informed 4 year old Angie at 6AM that she could not play with Leiland for 2 reasons; we were all asleep and, she was totally nude.
I am comfortable re-phrasing my communications with some people until they demonstrate a passable understanding of what I said.
Ditto for choice 'educators' oft encountered in our swirling-the-drain public school system.
I am a quick-study; I could probably 'carelessly' over-look paying thousands of dollars in taxes, send sexually explicit gay e-mails to young Capitol Hill pages, flash gay hand-signals in a public potty, accept bribes from lobbyists and majorly remodel my kitchen, be casually chummy with William Ayers, valiantly admit to a seedy laison with a Madame or hire illegals with the best of them ~ if only given the chance.

Safari-rama-bama

I'm going to Kenya for the Obama safari. You should too, as daily there are more and more close relatives of the American President-elect popping-up out of the bush, eager to host your welcome visit. Of course, this burgeoning family tree seems to be more a branching out of capitalistic opportunity than blood-lines, but that's beside the point.

The Kenya Presidential Heritage Safari is a brilliant supplemental offering to an 11-day game park excursion. The dusty little Lake Victoria village of Nyang'oma Kogelo is the ancestral home of the senior Obama. An Obama step-grandmother still lives in the family home. You may ask for "Mama Sarah" and possibly expect a nice cup of signature Kenya black tea. (Here is Mama. She is actually very regal looking).

Always appreciative of a clever marketing scheme (how fortunate for William Shatner to enjoy the perfect 2nd wind to what might have been a bottom's up career in his very fun and oddly appropriate role as the Price Negotiator!), it is easy to see the rippling benefits of this "Roots" revisited trek.

Nairobi officials are finally considering road works and other desperately needed infrastructure improvements to accommodate Land Rover loads of enthusiastic American pilgrims inconvenienced by pesky, narrow dirt roads. Locals are especially motivated to put on their best 'good neighbor' face in addition to offering a host of affordable, genuine souvenirs. In a place that was very recently convulsing in a violent, bloody ethnic war after their presidential election ~

it is astonishing what can quickly be accomplished in hopes of luring back the tourist dollar from 'in-your-face' Tanzania. What's more, there is a real hope that attention to the new American president's fatherland will generate coveted U.S. relations.

The historic safari with the big name is the marketing genius of a White South African-born travel agent based out of New York, Mr. Kenneth Hieber. Being an entrepreneur with a 6th sense for exploiting popular trends, Bwana Kenny is also doing very well with another travel venture that appears as packed with diversified adventure as it is uniquely exclusive.

Actually, after all my personal interest in the world's cultural and social dilemmas ~ who would have thought that money really would be the solution? First things first: We don't need malaria prevention or clean, potable water; we don't need police reform or cleansing of Brazil's infamous drug slums, we don't even need a lot of attention to complicated government corruption or extremist religious ideology - we just need American tourists. Lots of them. Massive political and social cooperation will naturally re-direct itself towards graciously hosting and promoting a safe and welcoming environment for wealthy foreigners (whom everyone knows will not tolerate the same living conditions your own people have had to cope with forever). Hostilities at last aside, the peoples of the world would instead be focused on protecting and benefiting from their revitalized and oh so generous tourist trade.

Too bad Obama doesn't have more ancestral homes. Now the problem presents of what would act as sufficient spiritual draw to attract tourists somewhere in addition to Kenya...

Thinking Outside the Little Brown Bag

Thank goodness a tiny segment of society thinks differently than the rest of us. I mean, really differently. These are the few, the proud, the gifted - who encounter a problem and wholly dedicate themselves to discovering a logical, scientifically supported solution to it.

The miracle age of antibiotics has blessed us with obvious rewards. However, clever little micro-organisms mutate with each dose of countering antibiotic. Increasingly so they develop into deadly “superbugs” – strains that are resistant to antibiotics. That is old news. Here is the New news:

Flora & Fauna

When the "microbiome'' of our mysterious bacterial ecosystem inside the digestive tract loses the proper balance of normal flora and fauna (after an antibiotic series), an invitation to “the beast”

is issued. A nasty, toxic bacterium identified as C. difficile can move in and play Animal House in your system for a very long time (one patient suffered something like 20 episodes of severe diarrhea a day for a year), and can definitely be lethal.

The Thinker: Fortunately, a great thinker among us has proposed and is achieving an astonishing 90% success rate with a delightfully natural yet totally scientific solution. Danish gastroenterologist Dr. Johannes Aas has humbly pioneered the healing art of The Stool Transplant. Once ridiculed by his colleagues, the technique speaks for itself - often generating an instant cure.

The curious may read fascinating procedural details here. An intriguing phone interview with the good Doctor is documented here. This reading will also answer three of my own searching questions:

1) How does one even think of this in the first place, and

2) What is a probiotic and why should I care

and finally,

3) Who would be a Donor?

Turns out lots of people think about this topic - well, very generally speaking, that is. Personal observation and a quick Google search leads me to assume it’s a guy thing, and the majority of the more ardent devotees definitely must be Korean.

(Read about this unique Korean architecture.)