Tim Fall’s excellent post reminds me of the words of Martin Niemöller:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me–and there was no one left to speak for me.
I have ADHD. I was born this way. Apparently, I was also born with a predisposition for suffering depression and was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder 7 1/2 years ago.
Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder is a crappy name. Who wants to be called Disordered? Even if we are all disordered in some way! Here’s a better name: VAS—Variable Attention Syndrome. Continue reading Battling disorder
Policy change.
Pi now equals Tau/2.
I’ll be eating 2Pi, which = 1Pie, on 6/28. Might even bake it in a dutch oven while camping. You bring the ice cream!
Twenty-nine years ago today I survived a car crash that could have taken my life. Rather than perish, I managed to, basically, walk away from it with merely cuts and bruises. Never mind that there was an immobilizing backboard, an ambulance ride, and an emergency room visit in between. Never mind that the subsequent police report read, “Car damage: Total, all sides and top.” In spite of those truths, I managed to hobble through my front door on my own two feet that evening.
Years ago when my husband, Todd, and I were still dating, we traveled to Sun Valley to spend time with his sister.
After a day of skiing (insert memory of my current skiing prowess rather than my prior skiing ineptitude), we were enjoying a few beers at a local watering hole. Continue reading Gutter humor and true beauty
Amanda stood toward the back of the small room singing while mentally criticizing the woman standing front and center. Amanda noted the outstretched arms, the robust singing—nothing wrong there, but something undefinable about her stance screamed self-satisfaction. Her body posture looked less like worship and more like wonderful am I. Less like adoration and more like aren’t I amazing?
In yesterday’s post I mentioned that I have difficulty keeping up with household management. When I left on Friday for my Women’s Retreat, the kitchen looked something like this:
When I arrived home last night it looked like this: Continue reading Proof that I married well
from The Rosie Project:
“ ‘Is Gene all right?’ [Julie] asked. It was obviously a variant on that most common of formulaic interaction, ‘How are you?’
“ ‘He’s fine, thank you,’ I said, adapting the conventional reply to the third-person form.
“ ‘Oh. I thought he was ill.’
“ ‘Gene is in excellent health except for being six kilograms overweight. We went for a run this morning. He has a date tonight, and wouldn’t be able to go out if he was ill.’
“Julie seemed unimpressed, and in reviewing the interaction later, I realized that Gene must have lied to her about his reason for not being present. This was presumably to protect Julie from feeling that her lecture was unimportant to Gene and to provide a justification for a less prestigious speaker being sent as a substitute. It seems hardly possible to analyze such a complex situation involving deceit and supposition of another person’s emotional response, and then prepare your own plausible lie, all while someone is waiting for you to reply to a question. Yet that is exactly what people expect you to be able to do.”
(The Rosie Project, p. 8)
Adapting those last lines to my life would read thus: It hardly seems possible to keep track of and complete in a timely, consistent manner all that needs to be accomplished daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly. Yet that is exactly what people expect you to do.
When life is lived to its fullest, both stunning success and tragic grief will be known.
Three miles south of my home, Bellevue, Idaho celebrated with the world as one of their own, Kaitlyn Farrington, won Olympic gold. They and the entire Wood River Valley are now mourning the death of two others, both of which resulted from two different snow mobile accidents. Continue reading Living life fully: mountaintops and ravines
After some heavy reading today, I decided we all needed a little levity ca
re of Jane Austen. Again we visit Northanger Abbey in which we find the … well, “villain” isn’t quite the right word for John Thorpe. What’s a word for loud-mouthed braggart? For that is John Thorpe.
Here is his inauspicious introduction: