What's all that stuff about tomorrow anyway, Annie?

"The sun will came out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow they'll be sun. Just thinking about tomorrow clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow 'till there's none..." Oh really, Annie?

It's Tuesday morning and Washington official speak according to the news media is that the national recession is almost over. But perusing the local paper I note that unemployment in Florida continues to hover at around 12%, the real estate market is continuing to struggle with close to seven out of ten sales being either short sales or bank owned homes. The median price has dropped from about $250,000 when the recession began to just under $100,000. Construction starts are few and far between, as you might suppose. People are leaving the state not moving in since the job market is so poor. Technology jobs are practically non existent and the government is all but killing NASA. As far as I know, we have not seen any of the federal stimulus money here. Oh, the banks are fine; they're just not lending. So, maybe you should just stuff it, little redheaded chick.

Here, tourism took a hit from the BP oil spill. It seems that all we've got going for us now is our alluring weather. But, wait a minute, its still in the nineties in late September. Scratch that thought. At least we still have Harry Potter at Universal. Without Harry, the hotels would be hurting cause Shamu and Tinker Belle can't cut it alone these days. Especially at Disney's prices.

Looking beyond the local, things aren't so rosy either. People who have been around a long time, like former President Carter (84 years young), say that they don't remember a time when our country was so bitterly divided. Nobody in DC can agree to work together on anything. Global warming is upon us whether we like the weather or not. Can't even buy an egg without risking death. We're morally compromised, fiscally piled high an deep, and still spending big bucks losing the mideast to Al Quaida and the mullahs. And Iran, who is itching to roll over Iraq says we did 9-11 to ourselves. Some folks probably actually believe that too, more's the pity. Best to put the paper down and avoid Fox and CNN, too. I can only feel worse.

So, I'll just go back to working on my dragon book, walking the dogs, and doing yoga as much as I can. Hit the beach as many times in the RV as possible. Live today for tomorrow may be worse. Or with luck, it may get better. There's nothing I can do about it anyway. Meanwhile, I'll just stick earplugs in when the kid is belting out her show stopping number and wait it out.

Like Scarlett, I'll think about tomorrow tomorrow. Today, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.

Wishes

Well boys and girls, life is interesting isn't it? I love the changes that come from being open to new experiences. Recently, I have reflected about how our needs and preferences, interests, likes and dislikes alter with our age and the various stages (or passages if you prefer) that we go through on our journey through our physical life.

I am now in what is probably the last quarter of my life and I am finding out what my grandparents knew: that material things eventually weigh one down. I am less and less interested in entertaining and in maintaining my home of fifteen years. The house is bigger than I need now with children long gone and small grandchildren that visit only a few times a year. It is overflowing with decades of my own possessions and my mother's things since her death several years ago. I want to de-clutterfy, discard, sell, give away, etc. I want to keep only what serves my current needs and pleasures. I am ready to downsize. Not to move into a condo or apartment since those come with rules and regulations like not having three dogs as well as a lack of the privacy I still crave.

So, I am thinking that I am ready to move on, even though my house is paid for. If the economy would only pick up enough to sell, I would like a smaller place as home base maybe in the country with enough land for the dogs and the capability to keep the motor home on site. With a well and a septic tank and place for a garden. Ya know, a mini homestead. Somewhere in Florida, coastal Georgia, or western NC. I would like to see as much of the country as possible in the RV. With the dogs. And my laptop to write more books as I go. If wishes were horses, that's what I'd do. Danny is drooling at the thought.

I might add another wish that someday we could travel almost full time...but that one has to be on the back burner. Long term wish. Cause, Danny still has to work. So, a job of some sort has to be a part of the near future wish. Done, wish, second part.

It all has to stay theoretical for now thanks to the worst economic situation since my parents were kids in the Great Depression of the past century. But, still its good to have something to wish for. In the meantime, I'm counting my many blessings, enjoying life as it is, and resolved to begin the de-clutterification process...tomorrow.

Update

Dragons and boy wizards and class A motorhomes, oh my! It's Fall, although you wouldn't really know it by stepping outside. It is still steamy and sultry. I put out the autumn faux pumpkins (real ones die fast in Florida) and the faux sunflower wreath for the front door. Hasn't helped me believe.

We went to Universal's Islands of Adventure last Sunday and walked through Hogsmeade at Harry's Wizarding World but wintery ambience generated by the faux snow covered roofs did not stop us from sweating miserably in the upper 90's heat and humidity. After riding the Flight of Hippogriff and perusing the merchandise at the shops we got in line at Hogwarts Castle for the main ride. And got back out again less than five minutes later. Despite the relatively short 30 minutes posted wait time, we were just too hot and starting to feel sick. So we limped and staggered to the always icy cold Cat In The Hat ride and went home. That's what you do when you have annual passes. No pressure to stay cause you can always come back when the weather's better. If it ever gets better and I am beginning to wonder if summer will ever let go...

Meantime, back in our well air conditioned house, we've been watching all the Harry Potter movies in order and I'd forgotten how good they really are. We are real fans. After all, you are never too old to be a wizard. Look at Dumbledore!

My real time dragon book manuscript is in the capable hands of my editor friend, Lisa. So, I am not worried about Tim until he returns to me for more tweaking.

For no logical reason at all I quite unexpectedly turned my attention to getting a bigger motor home for new and improved vacation adventures. (Have I been bespelled?) See my other Blog, NanNan and Dan Dan for the story. Suffice to say, if all goes as planned, we will sign the papers for the new 31 foot Serrano this weekend. Danny suggested we name it 'The Badger' in honor of his favorite Hogwarts school of wizardry house, Hufflepuff. Since the exterior is badger colored, I like the idea.

We're off to a family wedding at the beach this weekend, too. Probably the last flight of the Parakeet for us before she gets traded in. So, somebody who can, cast a spell and blow any potential hurricanes away from Florida. Live long and prosper.

Dogs, gods of frolic

Dogs are the gods of frolic. I don't remember who said that, but it is true. They are classic optimists: no matter if they've chased birds and squirrels for years unsuccessfully: each time they spot one or the other in the yard they give chase. "Maybe this time," they seem to grin, "the birds won't have wings. Maybe this time I'll beat the squirrel to the tree." Never mind that they never do. There's always next time.

Of course, this may be because while they hold the memory of smells in their brains for decades, they don't seem to hold much else. They certainly don't hold grudges or pout from injustices. Pat a dog and he will forget that you smacked his nose for robbing the garbage can an hour before.

I don't think they hold guilt either. Or anticipation of consequence of behavior. If they did, would they rob the same garbage can an hour later even after you screamed at them and smacked their noses? Dogs aren't stupid, not at all. it's just that they mostly live in the moment. When a moment is over with it's delightful garbage feast its over. When the screaming session as you clean the kitchen floor is over its over. There's a bird in the yard isn't there? Let's go!!

They do hold patterns in their brains, definitely. That's how they recall what to do when they spot a piece of agility equipment even if several years have past. They have an innate sense of time patterns, too. I don't understand how they know exactly when its time for their feeding bowls to descend to the kitchen floor full of their favorite kibble, or when its time for the school bus to drop off the kids, but they do. Even when daylight savings time changes the hour.

Dogs have a pretty big vocabulary for human words. If there's something of canine interest attached to the word. Such as walk, dinner, biscuit, dog park, car ride, cat, bird, squirrel, etc. They are not as good with words like come, no, bad dog, leave it, but they will learn them eventually after you've worked up a pretty good headache trying to teach them.

Dogs tend to have pretty short attention spans, actually. The 'in the moment thing again' probably. They get bored easily. They need something to do to keep them busy, happy, and out of garbage cans. Unfortunately modern dogs are primarily pets and their original functions denied them. Which accounts for a lot of the garbage cans runs. Or maybe they would make time for those anyway. Who knows.

Dogs do worry, they do form strong attachments to people and other animals. They do grieve. Perhaps this is more that they like patterns than that they are thinking of the missing person or animal. Maybe it is because they are pack animals. I have lived with dogs all my life and I don't really know.

Dogs are heroic. They will give their lives to protect an owner or a pack member. Dogs are infinitely patient. Anyone who has lived with dogs knows this for truth. For these things and for their ability to live in the moment and roll with life's punches without holding grudges, we humans should give thanks and emulate them.

Dogs will not desert you because you make a mistake or lose your job or your house. Just throw the ball for them and they're happy. Dogs don't care if you are young or old or fat or thin, beautiful or ugly. It all smells the same anyway. Just be kind to them and they will be at your side no matter what comes. Can't say that about people mostly.

So, they track in garden dirt, chew the tassels off the oriental rugs, and might have the occasional flea. So you have to give up brocade bedspreads and light colored upholstery. So what. We will not mention overturned garbage cans here... or chewed up shoes either. Dogs will tackle a burglar, warn you of an impending storm, and make you laugh with their clowning around. Their footpads smell like popcorn, they are great to cuddle up to for an afternoon nap and they are always ready for the next adventure.

They are not called man's best friend for nothing.

Busily Being Beige

Busily Being Beige

By Nancy Wayman Deutsch

I'm standing just behind you

busily being beige

hiding all jollity

or slowly simmering rage.

I'm blending into the backdrop

so nobody knows I'm there

wearing a coat of mousy hue

pretending not to care.

But underneath, Crayola bright

A box of fifty-two

ranging sunshine yellow

to richest cobalt blue.

Laughing under the box lid

while hiding, in plain sight

maybe tomorrow, cinnabar red

just busily beige tonight.

August 2010

As Per Request, another excerpt from Tim's book

Here's some more from The Adventures Of Mungo Tim

For those who wonder, Tim is a young dragon (100 years old) on a fly about, Miranda is a girl on the run from a forced marriage to a not so charming prince, and Will Von Leonhardt is a dis-inerited direction challenged prince, hero, and all around good guy....

The Black Knight

Will crashed through a particularly dry bit of bracken and leaped over a fallen log. Surely the road is just ahead, he thought, emerging into another clearing surrounded by tall trees. Frowning, he scanned the clearing, then sighed as he sat down on the log. He looked down at his boot which was flapping open at the front. Completely done for, he sighed. He looked up, hoping to read the direction of the sun, but the shadows were too deep. “I just don't understand why I keep getting so turned around,” he said aloud.

“Could it be because yer a great stupid oaf who don't know better than to wander the woods without knowing a even a wee bit of woodcraft?” commented a scratchy voice somewhere in the direction of his knee.”

Will looked down, eyes widening in amazement as he beheld a brown skinned man the size of a small child. He was so thin that he looked more like a bundle of sticks tied together than a living man. “Don't know much about taking care of boots either,” added the stick man. He pointed at the ruined boot.“Might as well throw it away, which would be good since you almost stepped on me and I'd rather be stepped on by a barefooted giant than one clad in heavy boots.”

Will pulled off the boot and set it at the base of the log. “I...I...am sorry. I wouldn't have stepped on you. I didn't see you,” said Will.

“Course ye dint, ye big lug. Ye don't see what 's in front of yer face let alone below it. You've nearly trod on a slithy tove and a passel of mome raths and that's just this morning.”

Who are you?” asked Will.

“Now, would I be tellin' that to a giant? Won't tell ye me real name. Just call me Styx.”

“Well, Styx, I am not a giant,” said Will.” Just a rather tall man.” He reached out a hand to the stick man. “I am Wilhelm of Wallesia, a knight errant, sometimes called Wilhelm the Black” he said,” but you can call me Will if you like.”

“What I would like,” answered the little man,” is fer ye to leave the Darkening Wood and stop disturbin' the peace.”

“I'd like nothing better,” answered Will. “That's what I've been trying to do, but I keep getting turned around, somehow. I'm lost. I guess I shouldn't have left the road.”

The little stick man laughed, which sounded like wooden reeds rubbing together. “Don't I just know that. Were bears been following ye as ye stumbled about fer days now. I thought at first they might kill you but I reckon they liked the way ye ran off them scurvy dragon hunters. Appears like they been content just to follow ye ter see what ye're gonna do next.”

“Lucky for me, I suppose,” Will said. “I have no desire to fight were bears. I am a town man not a woodsman, as you have so aptly noted. I'd be obliged if you would tell me where the road is and I'll gladly be on my way out of the forest, for I am hungry and tired and would like to sleep in a bed that isn't made of pine boughs.”

“Road out ain't far,” replied the stick man. He peered upward where a small ball of light bobbed in between the stout oaks which lined the clearing. “Ye wanna take him Dexi, since he has proved himself to be no friend of them dragon hunters?” He winked up at Will. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend thing, eh?”

The small ball of light descended to hover over Will's head. “I'll show him out, Styx, if you like,” said the ball in a sweet piping voice. “I was going that way already so it won't be a bit of trouble.”

Will squinted and beheld a tiny female fairy, her form shimmering with light. “By Odin's black hammer, he exclaimed! “You're beautiful. Like a tiny red gold sun. What are you?”

The fairy smiled and beat iridescent wings, flashing beams of golden light into the air. “I am Dixie Dexi, a pixie,” she said. “Though some call me a will-o-the-wisp. Follow me.”

“I don't know about that, golden one,” Will said. “For, no offense to you, but I have heard that will-o-the-wisps like to lure unwary travelers into bogs and rivers where they drown. Of, course,” he added, “I am probably able to do that on my own with no help from you.”

The will-o-the-wisp bobbed up and down. “Nay, sir, I shall not drown you in a bog but take you all the way to Killarty if you want in return for the compliment you paid me. Most mortals, if they see me as I am at all, do not call me beautiful,” she smiled, revealing tiny pointed teeth. “They fear me for my reputation.” She pointed at Will's sword and scabbard. “You are a knight, yes? There's a tournament at Killarty in one days time.”

Will reached for his boot. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “A tournament is the very thing I've been needing.”

Unconsciously, he patted his pocket with the hidden coin inside. “I guess one more night in the open won't hurt me.” He looked at his boot in amazement. “Its all mended,” he said. “As good as new. How can that be?”

“Yer welcome,” chuckled a brownie in a pointed red hat and green coat, perched on an a oak root that protruded from the ground. “Like most in Darkening Wood, I am no friend of dragon hunters. Go with me blessing, Sir Will. Just have a care not to step on the mome raths on yer way out.”

Will stood up. “I thank you all friends,” he said. “I'll watch my steps more carefully from now on. And if ever I can repay your service, I shall.”

“Let us be off,” then said Dexi. “Ta-ta Styx. Don't take any wooden franken from those were bears.”

“I will not, light of me life,” smiled the stick man, lifting a twig-like arm in farewell.

Will was surprised how quickly the journey to Killarty went with Dexi as a guide. He was in the center of town by full dark. “Thank you, little lady,” he said to the will o the wisp as she bobbed overhead, casting light into the gloom. “I will say good bye here for I must find a place to bunk down. Fare well. I shall not soon forget your kindness.”

“Good fortune be yours,” she answered. “As I think it will, for you have the mark of Lady Luck upon you.”

“If I do,” said Will, “I cannot see it, for I have lost kingdom, and home, and my purse is too often empty.”

“But, that will change soon,” she laughed. “Perhaps, even on the morrow.”

“I hope so, Lady Dexi,” Will replied. “Right now, hope is all I have besides a prodigious hunger and thirst.”

“Then satisfy both at the inn of the Six Swans just down the street on the left. Use the coins hidden in your pocket and see what the new day brings. Farewell,” she added soaring up into the night.

Will reached into his pocket. “I only have one Frankel,” he said into the sky, “which I must use to enter the tournament, although I don't know how you could know that.” He frowned, as he pulled out three franken and a snickel. “How did they get there?” he asked.

The will-o-the wisps voice floated on the breeze. “The world is full surprises isn't it,” she commented, as her fairy light winked out.

My Current Take On a Hot Potato Issue

Recently there has been a whole lot of press regarding the plans of a Muslim group to build a mosque and recreation center in New York in a building that was damaged by the explosions set by Islamic extremists on September 11. The mosque would be two blocks from Ground Zero itself. There are, from what I've read in print and online and heard on TV, a whole lot of strong feelings across America both pro and con regarding this issue. Perhaps it is impossible to be completely dispassionate on the issue: the words Ground Zero and Muslim put together in the same sentence does push buttons for quite a few as the anniversary of the great tragedy approaches.

No rational person can argue that the attack on September 11 by a foreign Islamic terrorist group on American soil that killed thousands of innocent civilian people was a right action. It was entirely unprovoked by a single person murdered on that terrible day. The attack was immoral. The attack was unjustified. The attack was an atrocity. The attack was evil. It cannot be justified by any human being who wishes to be respected. I have heard that AL Quaida claimed that the attack was in return for Western and especially American interference and injustices throughout the Muslim world in the last half century. Indeed, Muslim hard core extremists still blame Christians for the Crusades thousand years ago. They blame America as well for supporting the establishment of the state of Israel after WWII. They use these as excuses for the un-excusable. It doesn't wash.

Okay, so a group of Muslims don't like us Americans and they harbor grudges. I get that. But not liking us does not in any way justify their actions.

I admit to currently having some negative feelings about Islam (if not individual Muslim people). As a religion Islam advocates the elimination or domination of non Muslims either by religious conversion or killing. Yes, this is in the Koran. I've read it. "If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out." (from the Christian Old testament) Our eye offended the writer (s) of the Koran and the devout Muslim was ordered to pluck it out.

Of course, most Muslims today are likely moderate and most likely don't follow their holy book to the letter any more than most Christians do. But it bothers me that I don't read or hear many Muslims condemn what happened at Ground Zero in any way that could be considered more than lukewarm at best. Sometimes by not taking a stand against something a person appears to approve it.

I am reminded here of the average German in the Weimar republic as Hilter's goons took over and began their unbelievably horrible and inexcusable treatment of the Jewish people. The country was failing and the economy was in tatters and 'Joseph the plumber' was having really hard times. The Germans wanted change. They needed change. Unfortunately, they had the bad fortune of getting a Hitler. Joseph and the other average folks probably did not support the crazy Nazi agenda. What would have happened to the German who stood in the way of the SS? I don't think I have to answer that question. Courage and convictions are easy in books and movies but far harder in real life when it means torture or death.

But that was in Germany, not America. I can understand being quiet when a bully is in charge and you are powerless, but in Peoria or Pennsylvania or Portland you can say what you like. Why then don't more Muslims here strongly denounce Al Qaida, their actions and agenda? I don't have an answer.

Overseas, they perhaps do not speak up since in some Muslim dominated countries there is little if any separation between church and state and their personal freedoms are more limited than ours, thus essentially forcing those who might not agree with the more extreme and fanatical persons in control into being silent for fear of reprisals and harm to themselves and family. Or is it possible that they do not care? Do they agree with the fanatics? Do they really hate us? I do not know.

Some people argue that freedom of religion is the right of any American and that the building of a Muslim religious center anywhere they want to is their right and prerogative. This is true. The law of our land supports it. If they can get the proper permits from the city and have the funds, they can build it. I am going to echo a statement of our President regarding change, out of context and with a different reference, "Yes We Can!" But, should we? Should they?

I do not agree with the conservative talk show hosts and politicians on most points but I did find myself nodding my head when I heard Rush Limbaugh say something to the effect (Or maybe it was Glenn Beck who said it; they blur in my mind before I hit the channel changer) that building a mosque near a site that is in many ways a sacred memorial to an atrocity committed in the name of the religion that the mosque stands for would be like Nazis putting their flags outside the gates of a concentration camp where thousands of innocent Jews were brutally tortured and murdered for the sake of the Nazi agenda.

Of course the mosque can be built near Ground Zero. This is America, after all. She is flawed. Love her or hate her and maybe there are reasons to do both for some people, but she guarantees you the freedom of speech and religion.

But should the mosque be built there? Is it somehow disrespectful to the dead and their living still grieving families? Does its placement there stand for religious tolerance or a slap in the face? Could a compromise be reached and the mosque be built elsewhere in the city? Some argue that we must be more tolerant of Muslim feelings concerning their religion and the life style it demands. Some might argue that Muslims become more tolerant of those who have different ideas and customs themselves. I don't know but I do believe in balance in all things. Give and take. Live and let live.

Tolerance and understanding are always to be desired. Learning to know people who are not like us can be a really positive experience when both sides are open minded and willing to compromise and grow and, yes, change some customs and moderate some beliefs that may no longer apply to life in a world changed since they were formed. Should there be mosques in new York and churches in Bagdad? Sure, why not? We can all change. Yes, we can. We can learn. We can evolve. We can become better. It often takes time and starts in little ways. I know, though, change can't be forced down the throats of those who are not ready for it.

Remember the old saying about not knowing a man until you have walked in his shoes? It makes sense. As a non Muslim, I frankly have a really hard time even wanting to walk in those shoes, especially if walking in them was overseas, but if I had to I sure would rather it be a man's shoes than a woman's. Maybe as a Muslim man I'd have to give up eating and drinking some things that I wouldn't miss anyway and I wouldn't mind not drawing a picture of the prophet since I can't draw anything. I could still go to school, run a business, drive a car, be an athlete if I wanted. Even in Arabia. I could remember to pray a few times a day. But as a woman, ah, forget it. Here's where the impossible disconnect comes. Here's where the instinctive unease of Islam comes for me personally thanks to what I've read about the life of many Muslim women around the world.

My impression is that being a Muslim woman in many Muslim dominated countries would mean I could not go to school unless the religious leaders agreed and then I might not be permitted to study certain things. I could only marry who I was told to. I could be killed for resisting an unwanted marriage. In some places I could be killed for riding in a car with a male not a relative. I could be beaten for offending a man with my words or appearance. I would be wrapped up in clothes that hid my identity whenever in public. I could not go freely where I chose. As a 21st century, 12th generation American woman such things are unthinkable and unimaginable. If Muslim women in other parts of the world choose freely to accept such conditions it is not my business. If my sisters do not like the lack of personal freedom but endure because they cannot choose, my heart aches for them.

I would welcome dialog with Muslim women to get a better sense of what they really think and feel about their role in Muslim society both abroad and in America. I have not had the experience or the opportunity to date to do so.

I am not defending a conservative political or religious point of view. I am not happy with some facets of American culture, although I love my country and would defend her agains all aggressors. Am I offended on some level at the idea of a mosque being built near Ground Zero? I think I wish I wasn't. But, honestly yes I am to some degree offended, on an emotional level if not a logical one. I shrug my shoulders and move on to thinking about something else. For now, for today, that's all I can do.