Winning Tickets

Recently the Power Ball ballooned over $200 million.  Someone pointed out to me that I could not win anything if I did not buy a ticket.  That's the kind of off hand advice that I tend to file under "Obvious-Man."  It came back to mind, however, when I was considering how many people I know who have given up outward signs of religion like attending church.  I still go to church which does not make me any better than people who do not.  I know that, but I wonder about their missing something by not being there.  There is the big draw, the Eucharist for us Catholics.  That is the Power Ball.  But there are the small graces like being part of a community, knowing I have this other source of support, the hitting of just a couple numbers but winning nonetheless.  

Furry Creatures

Hedgehogs have become popular so I hesitate to add the Albrecht Durer print to the blog. But it is just so damned cute--not a term often associated with Albrecht.

Wood Anxiety

There is a Pinterest page entitled "How to Distress Wood." The picture in my head is a woman sitting next to a mahogany dresser, one of her arms draped over the wooden top, whispering something like,"You're a dresser today, sure, but we might use you for kindling tomorrow."

So Much Cheer

A migraine and too many things to do that I really don't want to do have led me into a funk. So I am writing as therapy. It has been a drizzly day in the 30s--the kind of weather I appreciate. But the front moving through the area is playing havoc with my sinuses, and I have had a couple of nights this week when sleep was elusive. Now I need to gear up for two Christmas parties tomorrow. So much cheer might just do me in. Maybe I will just retire early with a book of Christmas mysteries and forget obligations and other worries for a while.

Pandas

I got an email from the World Wildlife Fund today entitled "Make the Holidays Panda-themed." So I was wondering if I could configure bamboo into a Christmas tree ( or "Holiday" tree for the politically correct).  I could arrange shoots like cornstalks are used for fall decorations around lampposts. Then everything else would be in black and white, of course. I can see the little stuffed ornaments and foil garland shaped into tiny Chinese characters wishing happiness and luck. I feel a Pinterest post coming on.

Ferguson V

On Wednesday night there was another example of illogic.  My husband and I had retired early to be cozy and watch an Agatha Christie mystery on PBS.  Our bedroom is at the back of the house and I heard something similar to a dumpster lid slamming in the alley.  Normally, I would not think twice about the "thump" but this week has not been so normal, so I peeked out between the blind slats.  There were two figures ascending the steps from the gangway between the school next door and our house. Then they hesitated in front of a crumbling ash pit bordering one of the houses that face the street behind us. By then my husband and I were pretty interested in what the two teenage sized figures were doing. After a few moments they returned to the gangway and there was more noise. Considering the vandalism of Monday night in our area, I called 911 to report the suspicious behavior while my husband dressed and went downstairs and out the door to check on the situation. When I hung up the phone, I opened the window and asked my husband, who was by then in the alley, for the prognosis. The teenagers, our impression of their age, were running up the alley after having broken a large, plate glass window next to the school entrance with a loose brick from the ash pit. So I again called 911 with the more urgent information about the attempted break-in. The criminal mischief makers escaped. The police came. I could not reach the principal on his cell phone, but I am guessing there was an alarm sounding at some remote location. Within the hour, a couple of men boarded up the window. The rest of the night was peaceful, although getting to sleep was difficult.
The illogic is that there was no accompanying protest that evening. The building is a school, a non-offensive establishment. And the particular school is a public charter school which serves a population that is 90+% African American. The next day my daughter reminded me that anger does not necessarily pair itself with logic. I know that.  I also understand that the two people who broke the window may have had nothing to do with the core of the protests, that they threw the brick on a lark. But the breakage becomes part of the larger narrative being read by people who do not know or understand these particular details. I am beginning to recognize how easy it is for a narrative to get away from its purveyors. 

Ferguson IV

This is night 2 of the Ferguson Announcement. Media have had a day to dissect and interpret for us. Businesses on South Grand, around the corner from my home, have had time to board up broken windows. Some volunteers have even painted murals on the raw plywood. And I am checking myself for signs of fear. Some of what I feel could be termed fear, I guess.  I am afraid that damage to small businesses and even franchises might cause them to move away. I am also not looking forward to another night of dumpster fires and broken glass, close by, and major destruction, in Ferguson.  But what I connect with viscerally is anger. I am angry that a young black man's life ended tragically, angry that a young white policeman's life has been all but ruined, angry that idiots who claim the business owners "have insurance" break glass, set fires and loot. I don't want to hide or cry. I want to punch someone. Does that mean I understand the anger of some of the protesters? Maybe, but I know that long term hard work is what we need, not short term violence fixes and media ops.Maturity and compromise may not be glamorous but they just might work.