1337 The Grieving Mother

This woman hanging around Crawford, TX is in a lot of pain, and it will only get worse if she lets the anti-war protestors take over her dignity and loss. If you read through the various accounts, the Bush Administration has been very patient with her, but for some reason she will not be satisfied until she has convinced the President by personally talking to him, that he should wave a wand and stop this war. Her grief has made her crazy. I feel very sorry for her. But you know what? That won't bring her son back, and then she'll find something else.

I watched my grandmother grieve for the last 20 years of her life after her son was killed in the China Burma India theater. She wanted answers, but never got them. And I'm so glad. Just two years ago we found out what happened to him. What a terrible, horrible waste of a fine young life caused by the incompetency and arrogance of his commanding officer. My grandmother's uncle was a teen-ager when he ran away and signed on to be a soldier in the final months of the Civil War, long before she was born. He died of dysentery and is buried in Tennessee. Grief? His family left his name out of the family Bible, and we didn't discover him until we started doing genealogy. Look down through history and find a war that doesn't have grieving parents or dissenters.

When my oldest son died over 40 years ago, I demanded answers from the hospital, the pathologist, a pastor, my friends and my family. (I didn't think to ask God because I wasn't a believer then.) I was not a nice person and I was really angry. If camping out at the summer White House would have given me answers, I probably would have tried it. There is no response in this world that heals that grief, you can't hug it away or talk it away or listen it away. Losing a son who volunteered to be a soldier in a time of war, to protect his country, who loved the Iraqi people and believed in the cause his mother doesn't like must make it all the more unbearable for her. I just wish she weren't dishonoring what he believed in by pursuing what she believes in.

1336 47,000th visitor

Some time during the night or early morning my blogodometer turned over to 47,000. Today the Truth laid Bear says I'm #441, which isn't bad considering there are over 14 million blogs out there. This changes all the time--once I was down in the 200s, and last week I think it was 700 something. I truly don't understand these rating services--I think I get rated on the basis of the ratings of the bloggers who link to me. Does that make sense to you? And always, always, Mr. Bear says I have an average of 71 visitors daily. No matter if 300 or 15 stop by, it is always 71. All of that is a fabrication, too. If my site gets pinged because someone strung together the words like "playful xxx kittens pursue Canadian librarians" and my little photo of librarian Susan's kittens comes up on the list, but reused on someone else's site, the site-o-blogger gives me a nod.

I'm now on a California consortium/list--I'm considered an ex-pat Californian because I lived in Alameda in 1944-45 and in Fresno in 1957. Wow. The right is really out there on the left coast. I've contacted an Ohio list, but haven't heard back. Maybe 38 years isn't long enough time to be an Ohioan? I say "warsh" just like a native.

1335 It's Peace Week at Lakeside

And therefore, my least favorite week to be here. In fact, this may be only the second or third season in 31 years that my visits have coincided with the peacenik vacationers with their long faces, home-made banners and candlelight marches. Now that I'm retired and have the whole summer to spend here if I choose, I'll probably come across them more often. These aren't the "peace in our time" folk I knew growing up in the Church of the Brethren, but the "Let's bring about peace by humming and meditating and pretending we understand Eastern religions" groupies. These are not "Christian pacifists" who seek the peace that passes all understanding, although some may espouse a syncretistic form of Christianity, but the "I won't talk to you if you aren't open minded" pacifists.

Here's some offerings this week, and I'll leave the leaders/instructors nameless so I won't be gossiping. They wrote up these descriptions, and are a good match for last week's "health and wellness" crowd (earrings, tatoos and hard bodies). Aside from the nuclear proliferation, gap between rich and poor, and beyond the rat race lectures/meetings which I think are pretty standard from year to year (nothing like 80 year olds discussing the rat race), we have these gems:

". . .gather in a circle, sing a simple song. . .connect with each person in the circle, sense the wonder and delight that comes from meditative and lovely openness to all in the circle."

". . .spiritual chants, sung repetitiously, brings the strength of spiritual power into our group as we gather together to share in our glory to the One God." Children welcome if they are old enough to sing.

". . .Look at developing more deeply our own connection with Spirit. . . Only open mindedness, positivity and solution allowed!!!"

YAWN. Sounds like 1970s left-overs.

Meanwhile, I'll be doing up the laundry from a fabulous week-end of wonderful, interesting guests, a week-end with the ballet, a concert and a little jazz flute ensemble. A cool front moved in and it was another unbelieveable thrill to enjoy the lakefront, especially Sunday with an ice cream social and a town band from (someplace nearby?). Sue and Jim have lived all over the USA east of the Mississippi, but despite 10 years in Columbus had never been here. I think they enjoyed themselves, and we certainly appreciated their fresh take on the sights, and their wonderful stories.

Here's what I'm looking forward to this week seven at Lakeside: two more lectures on China by Dr. Eugene Swanger, a class on creative writing, and a watercolor class. There's a paper making class that's back to back with the writing class, so I'm not sure I want to be THAT involved in the arts, but I'll consider it.

1334 Do you feel safer?

Martha Stewart has had her house detention extended. Golly, I sure feel better. Michael Jackson and O.J. are on the streets, but we are all protected now that Martha, charged with perjury and who has done her time with her head held high, still wears her ankle bracelet. And the NYT is really on this story, too. Captain's Quarters tallies up their stories on Martha (perjury) as against the Air American scandal (misuse of public funding--taking money meant for poor kids).

In these columns are the number of stories in the liberal media for the Air America / Gloria Wise scandal, compared to the number about Martha. NYT reporters must have waaaay too much time on their hands. Captain's Quarter's figures:

Media outlet.....AA/GW......Martha
NY Times..........0...........16*
Wash Post.........0...........10 (14 day search)
LA Times..........0...........3
CBS News..........0...........1
ABC News..........0...........4

What does this show? The Exempt Media has plenty of resources to continue coverage of a single celebrity who allegedly engaged in insider trading over 4,000 shares of ImClone stock, avoiding $51,000 in losses when bad news hit just afterwards. (Stewart wasn't convicted for insider trading, but obstruction of justice and perjury.) That amounts to 1/18th of what Air America got in misappropriated public funds by sucking money out of Bronx charity -- money intended for poor kids and Alzheimer's patients. Yet the New York Times has mentioned Martha Stewart* in 16 articles over the last 30 days, some of those in-depth reporting on Stewart and her ongoing legal struggles, but have not managed to put "Air America" and "Gloria Wise" into the same article even one time -- despite the misappropriation of public funds occurring in the Paper of Record's own back yard."

BTW, Happy Birthday Martha--best wishes for the huge comeback I know you'll have.

1333 Friday's Feast On Sunday

When I checked on Friday, the list wasn't up yet, so here it is, late. Not like me to be late.

Appetizer
Briefly describe your living room.

Fabulous view of trees, yard and creek. Peaceful decor; cream walls with khaki color crown molding; cream colored rug on dark marble; bamboo colored couch; deep blue and cream colored side chairs; antique rocker with blue and maroon upholstery and a few family pieces from our grandparents; glass top coffee table and end chairs; arts ‘n crafts style oak entertainment center; 50s modern side chairs with Frank Lloyd Wright pillows and rosewood secretary; walnut bookshelf with memorabilia and books galore; easel with painting; 7 or 8 watercolor paintings; lamps.

Soup
List 3 things you'd like to accomplish before the end of 2005.

I don’t set goals. And you can't trick me into it!

Salad
When you're online, what do you spend the most time reading/playing/doing? Suggest a site for us to visit.

I read political, religious and personal blogs and news sites. I skip entries even in my favs if they are potty mouth'd and cranky. I like Michael Yon in Iraq. Wonderful, sensitive photographs.

Main Course
What would the title of your autobiography be?

You're looking at it.

Dessert
What time do you usually go to bed?

About 9:30 or 10. Earlier if I can work it in.

1332 After stem cell, then what?

Unshelved has a good one.

1331 Do you like applause?

The caption under a photo of a musician in today's paper read, "Spencer Marks soaks up the audience's applause. . ."

For some of us, applause is the water that hydrates and invigorates and allows us to bloom more brightly. Is it the money? The sense of power over others? The memories of mom saying "good boy?" I watch performers every evening here at Lakeside, from amateurs performing in "Our Town" to professionals, some on their way up and some on their way down the important venues. Through their agents (or parents) contracts are signed, dates are blocked in on their calendars, rehearsals are set, hotel rooms and limos are reserved, and receptions and dinners in their honor are planned. But it seems to be about the applause, doesn't it? Applause pushes away the doubts of not measuring up--it comforts the grieving, warms the cold feet, and soothes the churning tummy--until the next time.

God designed me without an applause meter. I'll clap for others--even stand and cheer. But perform for applause, compliments or adoration? Never. Now, money--maybe.

1330 What I think about the new Lutheran hymnal

Not much.

Now these are readers

Occasionally I come across reader/bloggers (readloggers?), people who are such active, intense readers that I can't imagine how they have time to blog. Here is one of them. These two definitely have too much in common. What do you think?

1328 Judge Roberts and his children

There's some rumblings of outrage on the right that NYT is investigating Judge Roberts' adoption of two children from Latin America. Off limits! Outrageous! How low can they go! Well, yes, it's low, but Republicans raised (or lowered) snooping into personal lives to the level where any transaction that involves another person seems to be political grist, whether it's sex or paying social security for your nanny.

Besides, in case you haven't noticed or are not part of the adoption triad, adoption secrecy is not now, and never has been, about the welfare of the child. There have been powerful political and personal interests for as long as adoption went beyond an informal fostering system on the frontier. In Ohio, for instance, adoption records were not sealed until the early 60s. I suppose we'd have to go back and research who was in the state legislature at that time to figure out why children were more protected after a certain cut off date than before and who didn't want to be found or what estate needed to be protected.

Also, it's strictly political that you cannot keep an adoptee from his or her tribal heritage as an adult if they are some minor percentage American Indian, but you can keep them ignorant if they are African American, or Irish American or Turkish American or any other mix and match of cultures.

There is so much money tied up in the adoption process these days with people flying to the Balkans, or Russia or Central America to briefly "reside" that a mechanic and waitress who want a family by adoption are just out of luck. They'd be better off to wait for third cousin Susie to "get in trouble." You'd better have a nest egg of $20,000-$30,000 if you want a family by any of the more exotic methods.

And do you really think adoption by singles or gays is about the best interests of the child? No. It is political and social theory driving that change. It's always been about who has the power. And that ain't babies. What about open adoption? What baby ever asked for that? It's a social theory that by some miracle, children will be happier and less conflicted knowing that B-mom and A-mom exchanged addresses and colluded on this little "just as if" fantasy.

So that brings me to Judge Roberts. This is a powerful man, set to become even more powerful. There may be absolutely, flawless adoption records, but these days, his enemies would need to be highly ethical and moral people to at least not be suspicious. And when have you seen that on the left?

1327 You probably know this visitor

Cuppa at Brown Betty Brew has been battling an unwelcome visitor. You probably know him. He certainly has turned up at our household every time we move. Then drop down one and read her story about "putting the cat out." It's a hoot. I don't know if she writes for a living, but she should.

1326 Bush and Darwin

The left wing thought police are all over this one. But here's a sensible thought on the matter:

"There are those who believe that when someone has expressed his own thesis that it is only fitting that those who disagree with his thesis should be allowed to express their disagreement and objections to it. Indeed, there are some scientists who have even gone so far as to make a point of making the strongest possible case against the very theories that they have taken enormous pains to devise.

The outstanding example of this attitude was Charles Darwin. In his great book, The Origin of Species, he went to enormous trouble to set out all the arguments he could muster against his own theory. And, to his dying day, he continued to be heroically willing to entertain objections to his own carefully thought out position.

Would Darwin have objected to President Bush's seemingly paradoxical comment that both sides in the evolution debate "should be properly taught"? Well that might depend on whether he was permitted to hear the president's justification of his position, namely that both sides should be taught "so people can understand what the debate is about," and the president's further statement: "You're asking me whether or not people ought to be exposed to different ideas, and the answer is 'yes.'" "

Read the whole article here.

1325 What's in your garage?

Does your garage look like this one in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan? Architectural Digest is going to feature it in a fall issue.

Our garage is pretty neat and clean (thanks to hubby), but he only cleans it spring and fall. It is probably holding more "left-overs-and-will-never-use-again" items than necessary. During the winter it holds the deck furniture, which makes it a bit tight for a van and SUV. The former kitchen seems to be in the garage. The last owner in the late 1990s replaced the cabinets with a light white washed birch look and installed the old base and wall cabinets (I think they started out as dark walnut but had been painted several times) across the front of the garage. Last year I replaced the refrigerator and the old side-by-side awaits it fate in the garage, usually holding only a sack of apples or 2 or 3 cans of pop. Holding up its end for history and tradition is a rolling 3 tray metal unit from our first apartment's kitchen. In glorious ovacado green is our plastic kitchen wastebasket from the 1970s which holds a variety of tools too shy to stand alone.

We have enough old unusable rags and too short pieces of lumber stashed around to start a small cottage industry. Until the last spring cleaning, we had probably 5-10 large cardboard boxes sitting atop the cabinets--just in case we ever needed to repack a computer or DVD player or mail something really large. Hanging on to boxes until they get buggy seems to be a problem with us. Does anyone else do that?

We have several neighbors who can barely get one car in their two car garage because of the boxes and tools and "stuff" stacked to the ceiling. They seem to put a lot out on trash day, but the pile in the garage never goes down. I suspect this is a type of respectable, but almost out of control, hoarding.

This person responded at a hoarding OCD board (?) with an answer I thought showed a lot of insight: "I hoard because I hoard. It's a cycle where my home is a complete, unfunctional mess, so I believe that I will use all these items once I clean (or in order to clean) up the rest of the mess. I have known about my hoarding/OCD for a few years and have gone through much BT and it seems to have only gotten worse. I think it's because I truly believe that once I organize my house, I will finally be able to use all the items that have been 'hidden' or in piles or behind other things. So, I have blind faith that I will soon clean up, and that perpetuates the comforting and incorrect belief of future use."

It's exactly the reason we have problems throwing away empty boxes and a frig that we don't really need. Blind faith that we might use them some day. On a continuum, I'm just a hoarder-in-waiting compared to my messy neighbors.

1324 What did you learn the first year of your marriage?

Last night we went out for dinner with Sharon and Eric and Nancy and Ron (46th anniversary). Among the 3 couples, our years of marriage added up to 125. That's a lot of wisdom, Ron quipped. But no one will listen, his wife responded. The Toledo Blade wants to know what you learned during the first year, I said.

You can let the reporter know at tlane@theblade.com what you learned. I took a few notes on this at the coffee shop while reading the paper--it's a lot easier to remember that first year than any of the others, I discovered.

Setting aside the sex stuff (which nowadays everyone figures out by a series of living together arrangements), I developed quite a list. A lot wasn't even about marriage, but about life in general. Here's just a few:

• We had three apartments that first year, all with interesting and/or peculiar neighbors. One had an 80 year old landlady with whom I'd eat dinner; one had a 16 year old mother, married with a baby. Her mother was 32, I think.
  
  
• I learned to cook, budget, manage a checking account, use a laundromat, and keep a car running. I'd learned bits and pieces from watching and working with my mom, but I'd either lived at home or in some type of college housing.
  
  
• I learned to scrounge for used furniture and adjust to another person's taste more conservative than mine. One wooden cabinet with a metal top stayed with us for 41 years.
  
  
• I learned to live on one income and save the other. That plan never failed us.
  
  
• I learned I needed to return to college so I wouldn't be stuck in dead-end clerical jobs and how to file a complaint with the county and sue for my final paycheck.
  
  
• I learned contraception occasionally fails and found out I was pregnant after I re-enrolled to finish my senior year. So along with all the other new things about being married, I learned a lot about my body that year. Although both my sisters were also pregnant and we were all due the same week, we didn't live in the same town so we didn't do much sharing (no cell phones or e-mail in those days).
  
  
• I learned how to teach Spanish to high school kids who knew more than I did.
  
  
• I learned the vagaries of the pre-women's movement laws and regulations that bound women--like becoming an instant Indiana resident and losing my in-state student status because of my marriage; being passed over for a job because I had a husband "who could support me;" being denied consideration for professional work because I was pregnant so I clerked in a drug store.
  
  
• I learned the trick of getting maximum service from a wringer washer that offered 30 minutes of agitation and wringing for a quarter (in the basement 3 floors down). Later I would figure out how to coordinate that with my husband's schedule so I could wash diapers--but that was during year two.
  
  
• I learned that although I thought my parents in-law were loads of fun, I didn't like their values much (my husband loved my family's values but didn't think they were much fun).
  
  
• I learned that compromise was not a good option for us. It was easier to just watch and wait until something came along we both liked. At least I think I learned that the first year--it's possible I didn't put a name to it for 20 or so years.

I'm pretty sure I learned that my husband was focused, logical, thoughtful, tidier than most men, passive, and non-confrontational. However, it probably took me years to see his personality as my good fortune rather than something to be changed.

It took a quarter of a century to learn this: don't talk your relationship to death. Men hate that. Find a girlfriend and talk to her (i.e., but only if you are female). Or blog it if you just got to get it out.

1323 Blogging doubles in 5 months

Technorati tracks weblogs--somehow when I hit the publish button, it pings somewhere and within 5 minutes, it is recorded. The blogosphere is growing faster than I thought, and apparently world events affect the growth rate both of blogs created and the number of posts published. New features like instant messaging and photo tools also push up the stats.

"As of the end of July 2005, Technorati was tracking over 14.2 Million weblogs, and over 1.3 billion links. Interestingly, this is just about double the number of blogs that we were tracking 5 months ago. In March 2005 we were tracking 7.8 million blogs, which means the blogosphere has just about doubled again in the past 5 months, and that the blogosphere continues to double about every 5.5 months." Technorati Weblog

Because I taught a blogging class here at Lakeside, I can take personal credit for adding 6 more bloggers to the list in one week. And all are over 50, thank you. The tricky part is that 5 of these folks were not touch typists--slowing things down considerably. I'm not expecting frequent posts.

Dave Sifry at Technorati summarizes:

Technorati is tracking about 900,000 blog posts created every day

That's about 10.4 blog posts per second, on average

Median time from posting to inclusion in the Technorati index is under 5 minutes

Significant increases in posting volume are due to increased mainstream use of easy hosted tools as well as simple posting interfaces like post-from-IM and moblogging tools

Weekends tend to be slower posting days by about 5-10% of the weekly averages

During the day, posting tends to peak between the hours of 7AM and noon Pacific time (10AM - 3PM Eastern time)

Worldwide news events cause ripples through the blogosphere - not only in search volume, but also in posting volume

1322 Apple Pie Sailing Weather

My sugar-free apple pie won me a week's sailing lessons here at Lakeside. I don't even own a swim suit, so I was going to try to trade it for something else of comparable value, when my husband suggested he use it. He's had two lessons this week and just loves it.

Each day at lunch I hear about treading water with his shoes on and pieces and parts of the sunfish. Apparently he can join the sailing club for the season for $25 and can use the Lakeside boats, so he's excited about that. For years he has loved painting sail boats on the water, and also in dock (his latest painting of the sunfish lined up on their sides on shore sold for $450). Now they will have a bit more authenticity. His skin is as white as you can be and still be alive, so we have to slather his body and head with 45 spf sunblock. The cottage sort of smells like a beach.

Tonight is the opening of the Lakeside symphony season. Last night we went to the reception at the hotel to meet the symphony members (and to eat tiny, delicious snacky meatballs and cold chocolate covered desserts). I spent some time talking to the viola (i.e., the lady who plays one). She's been in the symphony for 15 years, lives in Washington, and teaches orchestra in a middle school. Her husband, who doesn't come, is a conductor. She shares a cottage with 5 other orchestra members--all men. She says they all get along great, and share all the housekeeping duties. No comment.

My husband's perspective drawing class is going well--except for the heat. He comes home about 6 p.m. just dripping. (Rhein Center has no AC.) He's quite excited about the abilities of one class member with no art training starting college this fall. He says she catches on quicker than anyone he's ever taught. The older class members have more of a struggle. I opted out since there were 9 signed up.

Instead of art classes, I've been attending the lectures on China. Gene Swanger is teaching something loosely titled Christian Response to Buddhist Teaching, and so far we are still in the basics of Buddhism. Then in the afternoon, Kerry Dumbaugh who has been with the Congressional Research Service since 1985 (and was a student of Dr. Swanger) is doing modern Chinese history. Yesterday was the late 70s, and I think today is 2003-2005 with lots of emphasis on the current financial page.

The weather should break today and we're looking forward to another fabulous week-end when Jim and Susan will be visiting us.

Lakeside, Ohio

1321 What the Bible doesn't tell you

Three Bad Fingers mentioned something today I hadn't thought about. All the misinformation of the ancients that was not included:

". . .it is amazing what is absent from the pages of the Bible. The backwards medical practices embraced by the ancient Egyptians never made appearance in the Bible, despite generations of Israelites in Egypt. The four elements recognized in Greek mythology (fire, wind, earth, and water) were never written in The Good Book. But these were all accepted truths at the time of authorship of many of the books in the Bible. Careful Biblical study even debunks the flat earth theory. " Read it here.

1320 Our town performs Our Town

Last night we joined other Lakesiders in a sweltering South Auditorium for a local performance of Thorton Wilder's Our Town, the most performed play in America. Community theater is such fun as you watch your friends and neighbors take on roles. In the case of our little summer community they only have a few weeks to put it together, build props, find costumes, and round up money and volunteers to put it on. It's sort of like those old Mickey Rooney Judy Garland movies where everyone chips in to help.

I first saw Our Town on TV. NBC's Producers Showcase offered it in 1955 with Frank Sinatra as the narrator (stage manager) and Paul Newman* and Eva Marie Saint as the young lovers, George and Emily. My high school English teacher assigned it to the class. My parents didn't have a television set--Dad said he was waiting for color. So I went with a group of friends to the Duffy home on First Street. Mrs. Duffy ran a cafe and she had two handsome sons, one of whom dated my best friend, so it seemed the ideal location for a fun "homework" night.

Last night a first time Lakesider, Josh Bayer, a senior at the University of Kentucky, played the part of George Gibbs. He's done a lot of acting in college, so who knows, maybe he'll go the Newman route. The role of Emily Webb was performed by Alison Park, a long time Lakesider and a student at Ohio Wsleyan University who waitresses during the summer at Sloopy's and clerks at the Fudge Shop. The heavy role of the narrator was done by Josh Olin, an elementary school teacher who's been coming here since he was a child. I don't know how anyone learns that many lines, mostly monologue, while squeezing in a vacation.

The director was young Kay Meyers, who will be a sophomore at Columbia College of Chicago where she studies theater. She has grown up at Lakeside (summers) and her sister runs the art center. Tom Meyers was the Producer (I don't think they are related).

Photo from Toledo Blade.

* Originally, James Dean was supposed to play the role of George Gibbs in the 1955 TV production, but Paul Newman got this role when Dean was killed.

1319 Phhhhht on fitness

What next? The President's smirk? His ears? A New Republic editor/columnist now takes the President to task for his fitness routine. Poor Dubya. He's just too dumb to get get off the treadmill.

"There's no denying that the results are impressive. Bush can bench press 185 pounds five times, and, before a recent knee injury, he ran three miles at a 6-minute, 45-second pace. That's better than I could manage when I played two sports in high school. And I wasn't holding the most powerful office on Earth. Which is sort of my point: Does the leader of the free world need to attain that level of physical achievement?" Crabby Bush Basher.

But then, he doesn't think much of the rest of over half the country either:

"A recent article of mine in ______ defending Bush hatred seems to have worked like some kind of conservative dog whistle, silently summoning drooling right-wingers out of their lairs to bay at the moon...Wait. Did I just lump David Brooks together with a bunch of incoherent right-wing knuckle-draggers?" Borrowed.

1318 The ubiquitous plastic water bottle

Although I don't recall when I first attended a public musical or dramatic performance, I can recall them as a pre-schooler. At church I watched the choirs perform at the Forreston Lutheran Church and the Mt. Morris Church of the Brethren; I attended concerts and watched musicians in the band shell in our little village at age 3 or 4; I sat in the audience at my sister's recitals; I cheered from the sidelines as the high school band performed at football and basketball games; I myself performed as a child with my siblings (we were an early version of the Jackson Five, but we were white and there were four of us); I sang in a ladies quartet and choral group and played first chair trombone in the band; I attended many programs of music and drama during high school and college; I acted in a few little productions as a student; and as an adult I've paid out a small fortune for tickets to on the road Broadway productions, picnic with the pops, community theater, and the last 31 years, have spent many hours at Hoover Auditorium here at Lakeside watching every imaginable singing, dancing, performing and dramatic hopeful who makes a living at the smaller venues of America.

But it has only been in the last 5 years or so that every performer seems to need to bring a plastic water bottle on stage. Am I the only one who thinks this looks really tacky--to turn your back on the audience and take a swig? What accounts for this surge in thirst?