1419 The power of one

Friday night we enjoyed a lovely dinner at Abigail's (restaurant in Lakeside) with two other couples. There is a rumor that building is held together by the grape vines, but I don't put much stock in that--I think it is the wall paper. We'd all been looking forward to the Abigail's great perch dinners. One of the men, an expert on China who teaches in the foreign service and recently returned from two weeks in Japan, provided us interesting details on China's economy (it's the size of Italy's) and its growth (growing at a phenomenal rate, and in a few years the average income may hit $800 a year). Someone asked him what would replace the current government if that could happen, and sadly he replied, another totalitarian government because that's what China has always had.

On our walk home, my husband mused, "That was certainly a reasonable meal," and then he stopped and thought about it. He knew we couldn't both eat for $14.00, perch dinners plus dessert. So he headed back to the restaurant, flagged down the swamped hostess and had her refigure the bill. The waitress had dropped a one someplace, and the bill was off by $10.00.

1418 Photo album at an antique sale

Yesterday's antique sale at Lakeside was well attended and appeared to have about the maximum number of dealers the place could hold. Many are set up outside, and during showers, they just spread plastic over everything. I didn't pay much attention to antique sales until the early 1970s, then I noticed things I remembered from Grandma's house in Franklin Grove, IL. Then in the 80s, I began to notice things I remembered in my parents' home, and now I'm seeing items that I received as wedding gifts.

At this sale held the last week-end of August I usually can pick up a few pieces of my silverplate, and keep an eye open for my mother's, just as a memento. Occasionally, I see old photographs from the 19th century and pause to wonder if the little children grew up or if the young couple made it. But yesterday I saw a dealer of the mid-20th century with several photo albums. I leafed through one that looked just like the one I started when I was a little girl. It was dated 1950 and most of the black and white photos were of stock car races in Michigan--proud drivers standing beside their cars. Parts of it were the picnics and swim parties that the young people had who followed these racers. Just small and perfectly placed black and white brownie Kodak snaps--beautiful 20-something girls in swim suits and guys posing like "Charles Atlas." The dealer said the albums had come from a Toledo estate sale.

At dinner I told my husband about the album--mystified that families let these little treasures go. Although I still remember rescuing the box of photographs from his grandmother's apartment after she died. No one else seemed to see the family connection but me--and she wasn't even my grandmother. We talked a bit about digital images, wondering if family memories will be lost long before the 55-years- after-estate sale. Many people don't go to the trouble to print them, and just view them on the computer or TV screen, sort of an update of watching slides of the family get-togethers. You do it once, put them away, and rarely pull them out again. We have boxes of his parents' slides--the color is fading, and we have no idea who or what is on them, and when enough time has passed I'm sure we will dispose of them--acres of trips and scores of parties with friends, viewable only if we find a projector that will take them. Will the next generation of computers even be able to bring up today's digital photos? Or will you always have the wrong port or USB cord?

But there they were at the antique show. Black and white photos snapped by an amateur, dropped off for developing at the corner drug store, and then carefully pasted with little corners into an album 55 years ago, just as clear and crisp as they were when those young people were out having a good time at the stock car races.

1417 Parents and Science vs. Religion

It's really not that simple, is it? Many parents are angry at all the "social science" baggage that accompanies evolution, which at its core is anti-God, which throws it into teaching religion in the schools. That said, it's not like these same parents don't have other alternatives. There are books, videos, classes at church, sermons from the pulpit (I've never heard such a sermon, but I think they are out there), and intelligent conversations at the dinner table. Yes, it means you'll have to tell the kids not everything they learn at school is true. Yes, it means you will all have to be in the same room together for 10 or 15 minutes. But you can do it. Teach them to ask questions. Teach them to think if the school isn't doing it.

"Nearly 30 years of teaching evolution in Kansas has taught Brad Williamson to expect resistance, but even this veteran of the trenches now has his work cut out for him when students raise their hands. That's because critics of Charles Darwin's theory of natural selection are equipping families with books, DVDs, and a list of "10 questions to ask your biology teacher." " Christian Science Monitor

I grew up being taught nothing but evolution. I just can't figure out when there was a golden age of Christian values in education, because I'm 65 and we didn't have it. We may have had more consensus on behavior expectations, but one town I lived in had 1,000 residents, the other 2,800. Most Americans don't live in small towns. I learned it; I passed the tests. We are not going to turn back the clock. I passed all the required college-prep science courses, was in all those honor societies even in grad school. And I never believed a word of it. Even when I was a liberal humanist I could open my eyes and see there was a creator. I maybe didn't believe much of the standard protestant theology, but I certainly knew that much.

I think the parents going after Intelligent Design and Creationism in the schools should turn their efforts to hiring better teachers, offering broader range of courses, reinstating standards for some basics in speaking and writing, and then take care of religion at home and church. Just as you don't think the school should be passing out condoms, many parents don't want your religion passed around either. Let them give their kids birth control if they think it is important, and you take care of the other type of creation.

1416 Where have you been?

And then she told me.

1415 Maybe there is no Cindy Sheehan

Her family doesn't seem to recognize her or her cause. They remember a brave soldier, Casey Sheehan, who volunteered, supported his president and the cause of Iraqi freedom. Her Casey seems almost unrecognizable, and I doubt he'd approve of his mother's camp followers prostituting his death. But maybe it's just her. Maybe she's been dreamed up by Moveon.org?

Kodee Kennings didn't exist and for two years people followed her story, too. (Although I think they were pro-war.) Two students thought her up and published her sad tale in The Daily Egyptian, school paper of Southern Illinois University. She'd lost her mom; now the 8-year old's sad letters to her dad in Iraq were published in the paper. But it was all phony--Jaime Reynolds pretended to be the girl's guardian and another little girl, Caitlin Hadley, posed for the photos thinking she was part of a documentary. Things were going along pretty good until they decided to "kill off" Kodee's dad. Then someone finally did some fact checking.

Daily Egyptian's acknowledgment of the hoax, but I didn't notice an apology.

1414 Tickling the ivories

Last night was the final performance of the Lakeside Symphony and the guest artist was a pianist who performed Chopin. It was OK, but my mind drifted. She was a small, pleasant looking woman, 60-ish near as I could tell from where we were seated. Something about her reminded me of the pretty graduate student we jointly hired to teach us piano back in 1966 or 1967. I had purchased a piano with my grad student stipend shortly after we bought our second house. A home didn't seem right without a piano since I'd grown up listening to my talented sister fill our home with music. It was a Baldwin acrosonic in a lovely warm walnut. It stayed with us for 30 years until I finally gave it to my daughter when she bought a home in 1996.

<----It sort of looked like this. The problem was, I played poorly and almost never, and my husband didn't play at all. But it turned out, he'd always wanted to learn, always admired people who could sit down and dash off something terrific. Because I was working at the university and one of my co-workers was an opera student, I think I asked him for a suggestion and he gave us her name.

Sometimes we went to her studio and sometimes she came to our house. But regardless, we were hopeless. I could play the piano, but not in front of anyone, including the teacher. It was worse than math test nerves. My husband who had grown up with no music in the home, none in school, no band, no chorus, no church choir, just couldn't grasp even the most basic concepts and couldn't hear any of the chord changes. She had begun with such enthusiasm, such a positive attitude, and I think we must have totally demoralized her. After a few months, we all agreed to stop the pain.

But my husband does have pleasant memories of that botched attempt--it makes a good story to tell our more musically talented friends. And he remembers a lovely, glowing, vibrant young woman with red hair whose career goal was to be a concert pianist. So when I whispered in his ear last night in the dark that "she reminds me of our piano teacher," I think I ruined his evening.

1413 In the local fish wrapper

After purchasing a few items to get us through the week-end at the local walk-to market, I spotted a photo on the front page of The Beacon. The caption read, "Last weekend, the son of actor Richard Thomas (John-Boy on "The Waltons"--far left) married Besty Burkett of Fremont. The rehearsal dinner was held at Mon Ami and the reception was held at Catawba Island Club." I'm guessing the extra woman in the photo was Alma, the groom's mother, although John-Boy is the only one identified for certain.

So I googled and found it here. Turns out his name is Richard Francisco Thomas*, and her name is Betsy, not Besty. When you are the "son of" people forget to mention your name, even if you are the groom. Sounds like Fremont was all atwitter expecting celebrities from the Fonz to Bette Midler.

*Seen at a fan site: "Although Richard Thomas is the fifth generation of men to have the name "Richard Thomas" in his family, he's not Richard Thomas V. Rather, each son named Richard has a different middle name based on the first name of his maternal grandfather. So Richard Thomas is "Richard Earl Thomas" after his mother's father, and Richard's son is "Richard Francisco Thomas" after his ex-wife's father."

1412 Picking up the Press Thread

Jay Rosen has reopened the thread on Austin Bay's post at his site. I know, I know. It's very confusing. But as near as I can tell from Neo-Neocon and Neuro-Conservative, Rosen invited Bay to provide some advice on how the Bush administration could be more open to the press. He wanted to start a dialog (in left-speak that means he wanted to change minds). Rosen got mad at the commentors, even though most of the 35,000 words were really pretty reasonable and well thought out. In academe (which is where I come from) we believe strongly that information or discussion will CHANGE minds. My entire career was built on that! Now when have you EVER changed someone's mind by anything you wrote or said? It's possible you added a missing piece, but you didn't change it. It's usually cummulative based on many life experiences AND bits of outside information. And it isn't just on politics, it could be anything--health, relationships, parenting, religion, etc. My story, for instance.

So here's some comments on the new thread. Not much heat or light here. I have no idea who Mr. Anderson is, his age or profession. Mark Anderson writes at http://poorrichardsalmanac.blogspot.com/ and disregards copyright the way he posts the whole shooting match on his site. These are a few of his "ho-hum why have you bothered and wasted my time" comments. If I were Mr. Rosen, I'd be more distressed by this attitude:

“But at the end of the day, he [Austin Bay] is a man who makes his living as a professional right-wing media operative. “

“every word Bay has to say on your blog is toward the end of advancing the same agenda Hughes and Hewitt “

“What makes Bay more than a super neo-con troll on steroids presenting his design for full-spectrum neo-con media dominance aside from his having better manners? “

“Why do you see Bay's PR strategy as a serious discussion about the future of the press and your commenters [sic] affirmation of the bias Bay self-consciously advances in his post--in precisely the manner he intended to elicit by what he wrote--as dumb bias discourse? “

“Wasting my time reading a respectful and articulate neo-con plan for full-spectrum neo-con media dominance that is not as immediately self-destructive and reality-challenged as Karl Rove's totalitarian approach bores me. . .”

“Austin Bay's bias rant makes me feel dumber. Why do you post it? Why aren't you bored by it? Being annoyed with the commenters' [sic] bias-oriented responses to your posting Austin Bay's bias rant is like being annoyed that Yankees fans show up for Yankees games.” [I think I need to diagram this sentence.]

Jay Rosen conceived a nice religion page called The Revealer, a daily review. . . which I used to read. Now written by Jeff Sharlett. But the little asides from the writers were just too much. Too much editorializing to be "news." Sort of Maureen Dowd with hat and gloves and sensible shoes, but you got the message. Like this pithy entry to Shalett's comments on the Pat Robertson flap:

"Olsen [Christianity Today] adds to the drumbeat of evangelical leaders denouncing Robertson's assassination fascination, with links to denunciations (read: distancing) from evangelical bigs such as Os Guiness, Al Mohler, and Marvin Olasky, coiner of "compassionate conservatism," who, in so many words, suggests that Robertson is a doddering old fool. . ." Jeff Sharlett [Warning: this is a tricky site to navigate; watch your clicks--I'm not even positive Sharlett is the author] Almost drips with scorn doesn't it, as "drumbeat of denounciations" gets downgraded in an aside, like a hurricane, to "distancing" and a compassionate conservative almost says "doddering old fool [he didn't]."

1411 LexisNexis vs. AlterNet

Ever wonder where the left comes up with its skewed views of reality? Is there even a candle flickering down in their data mine? Check out TomeBoy's lastest essay. To be fair, Mr. Nellis (the discussion is about someone discussing him) isn't exactly your namby-pamby left-winger; he's an anarchist near as I can tell, and I think he described himself that way. I try really hard to avoid his repetitive tirades at LISNews.com. Perhaps I misjudge. There is no evidence he is a librarian, so why should I care? Here's his "welcome" at his website:

"In fact, should any of the material on my site offend you, you are probably a religious extremist. In that case, I invite you to invoke the biblical injunction and pluck your eyes out. Frankly, I'd pay good money to see that."

Is that junior high or what?

1410 The Kitty Trifecta

She'd meowed and threw herself against the living room door from 4-5 a.m. Always hungry. But 5 minutes after downing her breakfast, she urped it up on the kitchen floor. Well, at least it's not carpet, I thought. But when I saw it was only undigested cat food, I knew there would be more. NO HAIR BALL. While cleaning that up, I heard her in the living room, so I rushed in there and cleaned up the rest of the breakfast. NO HAIR BALL. While I was cleaning that up, she made a bee line for the guest room, where I snatched her in mid-barf, so the hair ball came up in the hall. Then she headed for the kitty-litter where after doing her business she started to throw up again. But she doesn't like to do that in the litter box, so she jumped out and threw up on the little rug by the back door. By this time, I'd cleaned up in 5 places, counting the saliva puddles. Then to add to the barfing and pooping, she decided to add newsprint. She noticed yesterday's Wall Street under the kitchen table lamp and four times had to be removed from it. Actually, I just finally hid the newspaper since she didn't seem to catch on.
I've posted this before, but it's a favorite
Here's a really great site with another kitty trifecta story and great photos. I can't imagine what their vet, cat food, and broadband bills must add up to. Music, videos, professional design, etc. Don't miss the Scrungy story.

1409 When you let Blogger correct your typos you'll meet your Waterloo

One good reason to write in wp and paste into the blogger.com posting window is the spell check. It is hilarious. Some times I use it just for a morning laugh. It doesn't recognize the word "blog," for instance. Here's some gems from my Vioxx article:


"The Voice case involved a man who had undiagnosed erratum and died. "The pathologist who performed Ernst's autopsy testified during the trial that a blood clot likely caused the erratum and a subsequent fatal heart attack. . .

Well, let me weigh-in with something that IS 100% certain. I've had erratum all my life and it was NEVER found until 1996 when feeling light-headed, I walked a mile to the clinic from my office at OSI and was immediately put in a wheelchair and pushed through a construction zone to the emergency room and admitted. . .

After several days of testing at the OSI Hospital the diagnosis was "adiabatic waterloo fibrillation." . . .

It was zapped in 2002, and I went on new and different meads including comedian, because although the circuit was gone, the pulmonary veins around my heart didn't know the ship had left the dock and continued to flutter and cause problems. They needed to be retrained, and the meads were for that. About 18 months ago those meads (developed by a pharmaceutical company), were discontinued."

You're better off not to look--adiabatic waterloo indeed!

1408 The heart breaks

“The heart breaks for everyone who lost relatives and friends on September 11, as it does for the relatives of the war dead and wounded, as it does for the sons of Paul Wellstone. It does not break for MoveOn.org, Maureen Dowd, and Gail Sheehy, who have not been heartbroken, except by a string of election reverses, and are using the anguish of other people in an effort to turn them around.”

"AFTER THE JERSEY GIRLS, there was nowhere to go but to "Mother Sheehan,"* who, like the Wellstone Memorial, may be about to implode. In her case, her cover as Everymom is more easily broken, as her connection to the Loony Left is far more explicit, and her tongue is a lot less controlled. You might not know it from her televised interviews (where she seems well coached by the expensive media mavens retained by MoveOn.org), but the Internet is alive with her unscripted sayings, and they make quite a collection. To anyone's knowledge, none of the Jersey Girls or members of Peaceful Tomorrows has appeared on a program with Lynne Stewart, the convicted lawyer and friend to Islamic terrorists, and proclaimed her a personal heroine. None has ever said anything like this to a public gathering: "We have no constitution. We're the only country with no checks and balances. We want our country back if we have to impeach George Bush down to the person who picks up the dog s--in Washington. Let George Bush send his two little party animals to die in Iraq." "
Read the whole article by Noemi Emery

Seen at Bookworm

1407 How anti-war people kill

In the early 1980s I worked for a young Jewish woman on a JTPA (Job Training Partnership Act) Grant. She was a Republican and I was a Democrat, but that didn't bother either one of us because we had certain things in common--she was my aerobics instructor and I was accustomed to following her orders. I can't remember exactly what my job title was--something about program--but basically I wrote government documents. I even wrote speeches for her boss (later killed in an airplane crash). It was one of the best jobs I ever had, and she was an outstanding boss.

Her family comes to mind when I hear and see the anti-war protestors, all those dear folk who want to "bring the troops home" because "Bush lied." The naive do-gooders who light candles and string origami birds to take down to the lakefront on hot summer nights. The information that led us into this war was disseminated in the 1990s--I've seen John Kerry and John Edwards and Bill Clinton's names attached to WMD memos. But, that's not as important to me (if it was misinformation in 2002, it was misinformation in 1999) as the number of lives President Bush has saved and the number he as liberated from tyranny.

The protests bring to my mind those of the 1930s--before my time, of course. But I love old journals, and our public library had old bound volumes of Life, Look and Time, and the university too had acres of old musty journals, some unabashedly socialist and communist. It's possible they are gone now--replaced by unbrowsable digital formats where the agonized faces of those fleeing Hitler long before the US entered the war aren't so moving.

"Student organizing was one of the American Left's most successful areas of political activity during the Great Depression. Under the leadership of Communist and Socialist undergraduates, the campus activists of the 1930s built the first mass student protest movement in American history. During its peak years, from spring 1936 to spring 1939, the movement mobilized at least 500,000 collegians (about half of the American student body) in annual one-hour strikes against war. The movement also organized students on behalf of an extensive reform agenda, which included federal aid to education, government job programs for youth, abolition of the compulsory Reserve Officers' Training Corps (ROTC), academic freedom, racial equality, and collective bargaining rights." Encyc. of American Left

Yes, "we" Americans knew what was going on--our press was covering it, but our anti-war forces were very powerful. Just like today. Our politicians were timid and concerned about their legacies. Just like today. We all know what is behind their protests, don't we? Sort of a self-hatred, isn't it? Hitler was marching into poor little Poland the month I was born. I'm sure my 27 year old mom read about it in the newspapers as she wondered what was going to happen to her little brood (then three), because you see, everyone knew. It was no secret.

Fast forward to my 1983 job and my great boss. She told me one time that her in-laws had each lost four children and a spouse in Nazi death camps. They met (widowed and childless) after the war in a camp awaiting relocation to the United States. They married, resettled here, started a new life and had two more children. They have a lot to be thankful for, no thanks to the anti-war protesters of the 1930s.

And so I think about those two brave people (I met them once at their grandson's bris) when you light your protest candle.

1406 What I haven't seen this summer

Yesterday I made a few notes on what I hadn't seen this summer:

• a sunset
• a sunrise
• a live skunk in our yard
• a dead skunk on the highway
• a deer in my head lights
• a teen-age couple under the street light
• the left side of 140 lbs.
• a restaurant outside the gates
• a new litter of feral kittens
• Wall Street Journal

But I'm happy to say that last night we walked down to the dock and with about 30 other people watched a gorgeous sunset. We took along the binoculars and passed them around. Because it is week 9, I think we may have been the youngest folks watching.

Then on my way home from the grocery story I noticed a slight whif of skunk, but nothing like most years. I recognize the little feral kittens from last year's batch--probably someone has captured them and had them neutered. And today I bought a Wall Street Journal.

What I have seen this summer:

• the new director becoming more comfortable and relaxed in his job
• plein air painters
• a huge interest in landscaping and home floral beds (new director's influence)
• large crowds at the lakefront worship service on Sunday
• soaring real estate prices--$800,000 on the lakefront, and $300-600,000 in our neighborhood
• growing interest in community theater
• enormous increase and interest in the arts and crafts offerings
• a new and thriving coffee shop

Way to go, Lakesiders.

Lakeside, Ohio

1405 Fibonacci creator

Two years ago during the great blackout I was attending a class taught by Lakeside's musician in residence, Calvin Taylor. He'd spent a lot of time talking about Fibonacci. Actually, I remember nothing except the name, but it was very interesting at the time and I have my notes someplace. But I recall it was one more reason to believe in a Creator, although I doubt that it came up. Anyway, while visiting and admiring the wallpaper at Gates of Vienna, I saw a little icon for Custom Fibonacci Spirals. Cool.

"The Fibonacci series appears in the foundation of aspects of art, beauty and life. Even music has a foundation in the series, as:
There are 13 notes in the span of any note through its octave.
A scale is comprised of 8 notes, of which the
5th and 3rd notes create the basic foundation of all chords, and are based on whole tone which is
2 steps from the root tone, that is the
1st note of the scale. The Golden Number

"On many plants, the number of petals is a Fibonacci number:
buttercups have 5 petals; lilies and iris have 3 petals; some delphiniums have 8; corn marigolds have 13 petals; some asters have 21 whereas daisies can be found with 34, 55 or even 89 petals." Rabbits, bees, flowers, etc.

Fibonacci series in flowers






God is so good!

1404 New Conservative Librarian

So far, 4/5 of Paul's posts have been right of center (only has 5 I think) which could just push me off the podium to receive Walt's award as the only "right-wing" librarian blogger (there are no left-wing, according to Walt, which Paul's first post certainly proves untrue). He has a very high "conversation" rate with his readers. Stay tuned for more good things from Corrigenda. And I'm hoping he is writing under a pseudonym because he's in shark territory, professionally speaking.

He has an interesting post on second graders reading the latest Harry Potter book, which he thinks is too dark and too teen for a 7 year old. Obviously Mom bought the kid the book, but I don't think Paul approves.

I can't remember exactly what I was reading in second grade--Little House on the prairie series I think. And all the horse and dog stories I could find. Our town library was pretty small and the hours were limited--the librarian didn't want the farmers to get the books dirty. Now there's a switch!

1403 Reminder about the offset

Welcome Jay Rosen readers About eleven have stopped over here to see what an old lady could possibly say. But while I have your attention, here's a public service announcement.

Let me add something that has nothing to do with freedom of the press or a "conversation" between the old media and the new media. I noticed Prof. Rosen is writing at an .edu site, so I'm thinking some of his readers may be from academe, from which I'm retired. He and his readers may have teacher or public employee pension plans. Here's a reminder to start up the "conversation" about private retirement accounts again:

I am faculty emeritus (Ohio State University). We already have President Bush's retirement plan at our house (at least as I understand it): we have a mix of Social Security, private 401k, SEP IRA, a teacher's annuity (403b), a teacher's pension and miscellaneous IRA accounts and savings our executor will have to figure out someday. Because a teacher's pension is considered a government plan, I am not eligible for Social Security--not mine from when I worked in the private sector and not the wife's portion of my husband's. This is called a government offset.

So, just in case you thought you'd "double dip," you won't. OK, as you were.

1402 Amen! shouted the lawyers

Of course. They get 1/3 of the Vioxx settlement. Although I know it will be appealed.

And let's hope those lawyers will personally never need a life changing, disease fighting drug or technology developed by the U.S. pharmaceutical industry. It is a very risky area to invest in--as a retiree, I'll probably look for something safer, something less identified with miracles that can never backfire.

The Vioxx case involved a man who had undiagnosed arrhythmia and died. "The pathologist who performed Ernst's autopsy testified during the trial that a blood clot likely caused the arrhythmia and a subsequent fatal heart attack. The pathologist could not offer 100% certainty that there was a blood clot (not found during the autopsy) or heart attack. The jury demonstrated by its verdict that it believed the theory that a blood clot caused the arrhythmia and that Merck and Vioxx were liable."

Well, let me weigh-in with something that IS 100% certain. I've had arrhythmia all my life and it was NEVER found until 1996 when feeling light-headed, I walked a mile to the clinic from my office at OSU and was immediately put in a wheelchair and pushed through a construction zone to the emergency room and admitted. In order to be diagnosed, you have to be having an episode during a doctor's visit. That was my third or fourth incident that day and I guess I was just tired of grabbing a wall every time I stood up. I'd never reported it because I've only been me, and I assumed everyone's heart raced after eating peanut butter, or remembering an auto accident, or chatting in a nice restaurant, or walking into the stacks to reshelve an armload of journals. I thought the room went black for everyone when changing positions suddenly. It was never picked up in check-ups, in pregnancy and labor, or in my only surgery.

After several days of testing at the OSU Hospital the diagnosis was "idiopathic atrial fibrillation." That means, "we don't know why you have a heart rate that some times is 50 and sometimes is 300." But they didn't even tell me the worst part. A nurse friend visited me in the hospital and told me I could have died any number of times, or had a serious stroke. The blood pools, then builds up and splashes on through--sometimes in a clot.

After 5 years of medications to control my heart rate, and a generation of heart research and new technology (paid for by investors and inventors in our health care companies), it was determined I had an extra circuit in my heart, fluttering there trying to join the party redirecting the electrical impulses to nowhere land. It was zapped in 2002, and I went on new and different meds including coumadin, because although the circuit was gone, the pulmonary veins around my heart didn't know the ship had left the dock and continued to flutter and cause problems. They needed to be retrained, and the meds were for that. About 18 months ago those meds (developed by a pharmaceutical company), were discontinued.

Jane Galt and Dr. Sanity comment.

1401 The view of Kelley's Island

We can see Kelley's Island from Lakeside. We think being able to see several islands is what makes our view here so lovely. I've been there maybe three or four times in the last 35 years--by ferry, by speed boat, and encircling it on cruises. Our friends Matt and Megan got married on a chartered cruise, and because they own a cottage on Kelley's we cruised by their place.

There was a feature story in the Plain Dealer supplement a few weeks ago that pointed out the following:

1. It is quieter than South Bass Island. Well, isn't every place?
2. It is on the National Historic Register of Historic Places.
3. It is 12 miles from Sandusky, Ohio.
4. It is the largest American Island in Lake Erie.
5. It has 370 year around residents, and 1,500 in the summer.
6. It's a big rock with dirt on it--you may have to import more dirt before you build there.
7. There are no building codes on Kelley's.
8. 600-700 acres of its 2,400 are state-owned park.
9. It has both glacial grooves and ancient pictographs.
10. It's prettiest viewed from the bottom of our street on a clear day with binoculars. (Just kidding; this wasn't in the article.)

This is not me arriving at Kelley's, but I have sun glasses, a bra and a purse just like hers

1400 Catholic Blogs

Excuse me if I'm repeating myself, I've got about 1500 posts counting my other blogs here, here, here, here and here (library land, where there are no left-wing bloggers), and sometimes I lose my train of thought. Oh yes, St. Blog's Parish is an interesting stop. I'm not sure why I didn't see Vox Lauri there. She attends Our Lady of Liturgical Abuses, you know. Recently she wrote movingly about how those who serve often receive more than they give:

"I used to be a Minister of Care (someone who brings Holy Communion to Catholic patients) and when I was I got to meet many people who touched my heart. But one in particular was sent, I believe, from God. This particular patient was dying from cancer- though I did not know he was end stage- and obviously anxious. Our encounter was not memorable other than I recall a nurse phoning around the hospital because this patient missed me when I visited and wanted the Eucharist. I maybe visited him twice, fumbling through a little service I had to read haltingly from a book. The last time I went to visit him, I learned he had died that day. A few days later I looked up his obituary and found in the last few lines a thank you to all who had ministered to him at the hospital. A thank you he had to have placed specifically in his obit as I never met any of his family. He was blessing me, he was concluding his service to me."

Found her in the Parish Hall--Dressing with Dignity. Wow. I'll need to take another look. Looks a bit more my speed than the Anabaptist fashion pages I've found. The Islamic beach wear have even more coverage than the Amish. Good color and good protection from skin cancer. And she has a second blog.

There are also some helpful links in the parish hall for assists with blogging.