Pat Bertram's Blog, page 116

Dona Nobis Pacem

Today, along with thousands of people all over the world, I am blogging for peace. If words matter, this is important.

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People always talk about the human race as if we are warmongers, and yes, some people are, most notably those who make money and take power from wars, but think about it. How many wars have you personally started? For the most part, we (you and me, anyway) are peace lovers. We shy away from violence. We seldom start personal conflicts, though sometimes we do unwilling get involved in contretemps we don’t quite know how to end.

Although I don’t think we can do much on an individual basis to bring global peace, we can try to find peace within ourselves. If all on this earth were at peace with themselves and those they see every day, then our human world would be at peace.

Environmental scientist David Orr wrote in his book Ecological Literacy: Educating Our Children for a Sustainable World, “The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these qualities have little to do with success as we have defined it.”

Let us be peacemakers. Let us find the freedom that only peace within can bring.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

 

Tea Time

When I was on my trip up the Pacific Coast a year and a half ago, I stopped at a dear friend’s house. We’d never actually met until that time, but we’d been online friends for so long that there wasn’t even a moment of awkwardness. We seamlessly moved from online conversations to offline conversations.

There was much about that visit to savor: her wonderful library that included my books, a trip to the nearby rhododendron garden, learning to do cryptic crosswords . . . and tea. Although she herself isn’t a tea drinker, she had a lovely box filled with a variety of teas.

Ah! Tea envy!

I’ve never been a big tea drinker, but lately I’ve become something of a teaphile. (There is no such word, but the suffix “phile” means lover of, as in the case of bibliophile, a lover of books, so teaphile should be a word.)

Ever sinc[image error]e I got my own kitchen, I’ve been collecting teas, but so often, a box of one kind is too much, so I finally ordered assortments of teas that come individually packaged. Now this teaphile (me) has a tea file!

I’ve been making tea in the microwave, but to my surprise, the Twinning packets says “Do not microwave.” So naturally, I had to research this. Apparently, microwaved water is not heated through and through but contains pockets of colder water, and the unreliable temperature makes for a bitter tea. Because green tea steeps at a lower temperature, it could be okay to microwave green teas. (Water for black tea needs to be heated to 212˚, but green tea does fine at 176˚.)

I imagine it would also be okay to microwave herbal teas since herbal teas aren’t really teas. They are tisanes. Real tea, such as green tea, black tea and oolong tea, come from leaves of the Camellia sinensis plant. Herbal teas are made from herbs, of course, as well as spices, dried fruits, and flowers.

But, being a teaphile comes with some responsibility, such as making tea correctly. So I’ve been boiling water in my borosilicate glass teapot, which supposedly does not transfer any contaminants to the water as some tea kettles do. (The original Pyrex was made with borosilicate glass, but ever since 1998 has been made with the inferior lime glass which does not handle heat nearly as well.)

I have two different borosilicate glass teapots, one says not to microwave, one says not for stovetop use, which doesn’t make any sense, so I wrote to the manufacturer. Haven’t heard from them.

But only one teapot is necessary, so I’ve been using the one for the stove top, and it’s working fine.

All this writing and research is making me thirsty. I think I’ll go make myself a cup of tea.

Will you join me?

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

A Long Slow Conversation

For the most part, despite writers’ groups and online discussions, writing is a solitary occupation. You spend years writing a book, months rewriting it, and perhaps a year or two editing it. (Unless you are participating in National Novel Writing Month as hundreds of thousands are doing this November, then you spend . . . gasp! . . . a whole month writing your book!)

During the time you are writing, you have only your vision to sustain you. You wonder if anyone will ever buy the book. You wonder if anyone will like it. You don’t need acclaim, because writing is an end in itself. Still, readers connect the circle between you and the culmination of your vision, and in an odd sort of way, they finish the book. They take your vision and make it their own.

Many writers don’t consider readers during the writing process. They write solely for themselves and are proud of that fact, but what they don’t realize is how often their story fails to reach beyond the confines of the cover to allow the reader to participate in the story.

I write for myself in that I can only write what I can write. Even though I know the kinds of books that sell in great numbers, I’ve never been able to make that leap. My mind simply rebels — it wants to write what it wants and when it wants. Currently, my mind doesn’t seem to want to write any story; it simply wants to steep in the story I am presently living: new house owner. One day, though, a new story will pop up that I want to write. (I’m already trying to figure out who in my new town will be the victim of my next “Nightmare” story, the sequel to Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare.)

Although I can only write what my mind will allow, I still take potential readers into consideration. I wonder what readers will think. Will they understand my references? Will they find the humor? Is my writing clear enough? I like thinking that perhaps someday a reader will share this as yet unwritten product of my mind.

Malcolm R. Campbell, author of Conjure Woman’s Cat, wrote: “Whether it’s a book, poem, post, review, article or news story, I always hope somebody will say something. One never knows. It’s a slow conversation, so much time having gone by between the moment when something was written and the moment when somebody tells you they found it.”

Such a wonderful description of writing/reading — a slow conversation. I know I’ve read many books where I felt the author and I were having a conversation, silent though it may be. I read and I think about what I read.

It’s quite a heady realization that now I am a writer with readers of my own. I hope they enjoy our long, slow conversation.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

 

Such a Great Adventure

Periodically, I write about the frustrations of being a homeowner, but those frustrations are minor, and generally have to do with workers not showing up when they say they are going to. But even that, now, isn’t much of an issue. I’ve simply adjusted my thinking to accepting the vagaries of the repair business. If they come, they come. Either way, being a houseowner is such a great adventure!

For the past few years, I’ve rented rooms in houses in various stages of cleanliness, though I should say in various stages of filth, since most of the places were not at all clean. (My room was always as clean as I could get it, but the ground-in dust made it difficult to get it truly clean.)

The owner of the last place I lived had a maid who came once a week to clean the common areas, such as the kitchen, but an hour after she left, the place reverted to a state of unpleasantness. I could never understand the stickiness of the kitchen floor, the mess in the microwave, the absolutely disgusting sponge scrubber. I couldn’t believe it was that difficult to keep things clean; I even wondered at times if the problem was me, since obviously, I was the common factor in all those places.

But no.

Now that I have a kitchen of my own, I realize the problem wasn’t me. I continue to clean up after myself as I’d done these past years living in other people’s houses, but now the kitchen stays clean. And oh! I find such joy in the spotless microwave, non-sticky floor, pristine scrubber.

I wasn’t always this way, of course. When I was younger, I could barely make it through a day of work, let alone take care of my apartment too, so dishes piled up, clutter seemed to rule the day, and the carpet didn’t get vacuumed nearly enough. (I’ve always disliked vacuuming. Don’t know why, but it just seems too much of an effort to get out the machine, unwind the cord, and push it around. Now, with wooden floors, I don’t have to vacuum. Yay!!)

Somehow, over the years, I’ve developed a sense of order. (Just don’t look at my desk! That is still one place that my natural disorderliness holds sway.) Which makes things so nice in this lovely little house of mine. And makes the adventure of owning a house such a joy.

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Four Days Until the Blog Blast For Peace!

 

If words are powerful, then this matters.

 

On November 4th, people all over the world will blog for peace. Blog4Peace was created and founded by Mimi Lenox, who believes that because words are powerful, blogging for peace is important.

Mimi began blogging for peace in November, 2006. Thirteen years and thousands of peace bloggers later she — and all those she inspired — are still blogging for peace. On every continent. In 214 countries and territories. In war-torn countries and peaceful villages. Whole families. Babies in utero (yes, really!) Teenagers. Senior citizens. Veterans of war. Poets and singers. Teachers. Classrooms. Authors and artists. Doctors. Lawyers. Cats (many, many cat bloggers). Dogs. Gerbils. Birds. Goats and Bunnies. Scientists. Designers. Researchers. Stay-at-home-parents. Kids. Baby Boomers. From the Netherlands to Kansas. And everywhere in between.

I joined the peace bloggers in 2012. And I still blog for peace. 

This year’s theme is “Change your climate,” and that is a theme I can adopt. Although I do not believe in the possibility of world peace (because war and stressful times are never our personal choice but are fostered by others or foisted on us by circumstances) I do believe in personal peace, in finding peace within ourselves — in changing our inner climate — no matter what happens to provoke us into chaos.

And yes, words are powerful. And yes, this matters.

I hope you will join Mimi and me this year.

How To Blog For Peace:

Choose a graphic from the peace globe gallery http://peaceglobegallery.blogspot.com/p/get-your-own-peace-globe.html or from the photos on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/BlogBlastForPeace#!/BlogBlastForPeace/app_153284594738391 Right click and Save. Decorate it and sign it, or leave as is.
Send the finished globe to mimi@mimilenox.com and TAG Mimi Lenox on Facebook. Your contribution will be added to this gallery.
Post it anywhere online November 4 and title your post Dona Nobis Pacem (Latin for Grant us Peace)

Sounds cool, doesn’t it? See you on November 4!

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

There’s Always Something

I’ve been a house owner for only a little over seven months, and I’ve already learned an important lesson: there’s always something going wrong, and whatever that something is, it’s never simple to fix.

Actually, I already knew that about houses, which is why I never wanted one, but after a lifetime of dealing with landlords and ladies, I’ve discovered that it’s so much better dealing directly with repair people than through a middle party who doesn’t care about the comfort and convenience of renters.

Still, no matter what needs to done, it always entails so much more than originally expected. For example, when the enclosed porch foundation needed to be fixed, it turned out there was barely any foundation at all, so that an entirely new concrete footer had to be built. Then we discovered that the iron sewer line under the porch was rusting out.

And so it’s been going with all the repairs.

My latest “fix” is a pipe. A neighbor told me a few months ago that the kitchen pipes had a tendency to freeze, so the contractor said he’d insulate the pipes before winter. The previous owner said he’d fixed the problem with an insulated cover for the outside faucet, but I wanted to be doubly sure that the pipes wouldn’t freeze in this time of frigid temperatures. So yesterday, the contractor showed up with pipe “noodles” and discovered a leak in the pipe. Not having the time, tools, or parts to fix the pipe, he left with the pipes uninsulated and with instructions to leave the water dripping in the kitchen to ensure that the pipes don’t freeze.

Which I did, but oh, my, it sure was hard it was for my waste-less soul to leave water dripping!

Whether due to the drip, the insulation for the outside cover, or simple good luck, the pipes made it through the snowy night.

And so did I.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Good Deeds Going Awry

It’s really a joy being part of a community. I’ve had a bad cough the past week, and in the past few days, more people brought me soup and crackers or offered to run errands than in all the time I was housebound with my mangled arm.

I’m not worried about paying the favors back or fore (I know the common phrase is “pay it forward,” but that terminology only works if one also says “pay it backward,” and we don’t.) When people need help that I can give, I will do so — it’s all about being part of the community.

Or is it?

I recently watched the movie Pay it Forward. (If you haven’t seen the flick and want to, don’t read ahead. Major spoiler!!)

The movie is about a kid who gets the idea of doing good for people and then having them pay it fore rather than back. As a concept, it’s kind of cool, as long as the person who did you the favor knows you’re going to pay it to someone else rather than to them. (Not that we do favors for others expecting to be paid back, but it is nice when they in turn do favors for us — it helps cement the community bond.)

The kid ends up dead (he tried to rescue a friend from bullies, and got knifed). The finale of the movie shows hundreds of people coming to the house bearing flowers and candles. What was supposed to be a tear-jerking moment, showing all the people whose lives the kid had touched, just made me shake my head. There is no way such a display could bring more than a momentary comfort to the mother. In the cold light of day (and the dark of night), she would rather have her son than this evidence of his impact.

I also had to shake my head at this proof of the old adage: no good deed goes unpunished.

[image error]The movie reminded me of a CSI show in which Grissom told a story about a guy who found a spider swimming in his toilet. For a couple of mornings, the guy watched the spider struggling to survive the maelstrom of flushing. One morning, the guy decided to rescue the spider. He took it out of the water and set it on the floor. The next day, he found the spider dead. “Why,” Grissom asked, “did the spider die? Because one life impinged on another.”

Yep. No good deed goes unpunished. In the movie, the doer died, in the show, the do-ee did. Generally, no one dies after doing good deeds, but occasionally, as in these examples, the good deed backfires. Sometimes the favor leads to demands and expectations, and when those expectations aren’t met, the benefactor is seen as an evil-doer rather than a do-gooder. Other times the punishment is benign: people resent the interference or are simply ungrateful.

Come to think of it, the destruction of my arm that I mentioned above is another example of a good deed being punished — if I had stood my ground and not done the dance performance as I wished, I’d still have a perfect arm, but because I did a good deed (performed in place of someone who couldn’t make it) I have a humpty-dumpty arm.

I just hope no one is going to be punished for bringing me soup and crackers. I certainly appreciate the favor, don’t resent it, won’t expect more than what was offered.

I’ll pay the favors both fore and aft.

And I’ll hope that none of our good deeds go awry and that we all survive intact.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Colonel Mustard in the Library with a Candlestick

I’ve blogged several times lately about the mystery I wrote for a family night in the local historical museum. Yesterday I posted the scenario, so if you want to try your hand at figuring out who did it, you can find the list of suspects and their alibis here: Spur of the Moment Murder Mystery.

(For history buffs, the historical allusions in the game are correct — Clay Allison did kill Deputy Faber. Rutherford B. Hayes had just been publicly inaugurated as the nineteenth president of the United States, and he’d lost the popular vote but won the most electoral college votes after a ferociously disputed ruling by a Congressional committee. The suffragette referendum in Colorado had just been defeated. Clay Allison had surrendered after the Civil War, and some accounts say he escaped the firing squad the night before he was to be killed; other accounts say he was pardoned. In real life, he died ten years after this fictional murder — he was thrown from a freight wagon and a wheel rolled over his head. I am sure he would have preferred my scenario to the ignominy of his actual death.)

So, in our little game, who did kill desperado Clay Allison?

Well, Colonel Mustard didn’t do it, and he didn’t have a candlestick, and he wasn’t in the library. He was, in fact, in the bar at the time of the murder. The bartender attests to that.

Mrs. White did not kill Clay. She was, as she claimed, hosting a suffragette meeting in the schoolhouse. Flyers and posters attest to the meeting.

Professor Plum did not kill Clay. His birth date, clearly stated on the suspect list shows that he could not have shown up in town until decades after Clay was killed since he was not born until after the murder.

Miss Scarlet did not kill Clay. She was, as she claimed, with Mr. Green.

Mr. Green did not kill Clay, because although he denies knowing Miss Scarlet, it is apparent he is lying. A photo shows the two of them together, and the bartender can attest to their relationship. So, since he is a proven liar and Miss Scarlet is a proven truth teller, we have to believe that the two were together when Clay was killed.

So that leaves Mrs. Peacock. Mrs. Peacock killed Clay. She was furious that Clay went free after the judge ruled that Clay Allison’s actions in killing her brother Deputy Farber were self-defense. Apparently, after donating one of the deputy’s spur to the sheriff’s department, she continued to carry the other one around. We don’t know if she’d planned to kill Clay or if she did it on the SPUR OF THE MOMENT!

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Spur of the Moment Murder Mystery

I missed the murder I created for the museum because I still haven’t gotten over my cough, so I’m reprising the mystery here. This is the scenario I wrote:

It is Monday, March 5, 1877. Rutherford B. Hayes has just been publicly inaugurated as the nineteenth president of the United States. Hayes lost the popular vote but won the most electoral college votes after a ferociously disputed ruling by a Congressional committee. People are out late, some celebrating the victory, some drowning their sorrows at having a Republican in office.

At 9:10, Clay Allison was killed outside the jewelry store, and at 9:15 pm, revelers discovered the body.

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There are many suspects.

Colonel Mustard, the blacksmith, born in 1832, was at the garrison in Gainesville, Alabama when Clay and his Confederate unit surrendered at the end of the Civil War. Mustard swears that Clay had escaped the night before he was to go before a firing squad, and this does not sit right with the Colonel. The Colonel says he was in the saloon when Clay was killed.

Mrs. White, schoolmarm, born in 1824, says Clay deserved to be shot for mangling the English language. Clay had bragged that he was a shootist, and Mrs. White says there is no such word. She also says she was at a suffragette meeting that evening at the schoolhouse. The suffrage referendum had just been defeated in Colorado, and she and other women in town were determined to get suffrage for women in Colorado.

Mrs. Peacock, candy-shop lady, born in 1842, is the married sister of Deputy Charles Faber. Clay had gunned down the deputy after the deputy had demanded Clay and his brother relinquish their guns. Mrs. Peacock is not only grieving the loss of her brother, but is fuming that Allison went free after the judge ruled Clay Allison’s actions self-defense. She claims to have been home alone.

Professor Plum, a professor at Colorado College in Colorado Springs, born in 1878, is writing a book about Clay Allison. He came to town to learn more about what actually happened between Clay and Deputy Faber. Plum claims that Clay was long dead by the time he arrived in Las Animas to do his research.

Miss Scarlet, dance hall girl, born in 1860, hated Clay Allison for promising her marriage and a life of respectability and then reneging on the deal. She claims to have been with Mr. Green when the incident occurred.

Mr. Green, bank teller, born in 1847, says he was not with Miss Scarlet, had never even met her. He claims to be an upstanding citizen with pretentions to being bank president one day, though he does admit that Clay Allison tended to play fast as loose with the ladies in town, and should be shot on general principles.

Rules:

Look for clues in the above suspect list and in the photographs provided. FYI: the bartender corroborates the alibies of anyone who said they were in the saloon.

Check off the characters as you learn they didn’t do the dirty deed. When you sort out the truth from the lies, whoever is left, then, must be the killer. Keep in mind, not everyone will tell the truth.

o Colonel Mustard

o Mrs. White

o Mrs. Peacock.

o Professor Plum

o Miss Scarlett

o Mr. Green

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Mr. Green and Miss Scarlet

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So, who dunnit? Who killed Clay Allison?

In case anyone wants to figure out who the killer is, I’ll wait until tomorrow to post the solution.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Generally Considered Safe

After seven months of living in my new community, yesterday I got friend requests on Facebook from a slew of people I’ve met here. It’s lovely, of course, being connected in myriad ways to people, especially when once has hermit tendencies as I do, but . . . (You knew there was a but coming, didn’t you? With me, there always is.)

But . . . once people I know in offline life start seeing me in online life, I have to be more circumspect in what I blog about lest I inadvertently hurt someone by a thoughtless word, or alienate with an ill-advised observation.

This is especially true in a small community where most of the people have known one another their entire lives. I learned that lesson shortly after I moved here. Someone asked me about an activity I had participated in, and I said it was nice except that one particular person monopolized the conversation. It turns out that the monopolizer was a good friend of the woman I was talking to. Oops.

So I try to be careful even in my thoughts because I am one of those people who, if I’m comfortable, will say whatever comes to mind. And after having opened up about my grief and other private matters the past ten years, I tend to be comfortable almost everywhere and with almost everyone.

The solution, until I get comfortable with my posts being available to new friends as well as old, is to be careful what I write.

Local weather is generally considered safe to write about and in fact is something I’ve been thinking about of late. For weeks, I checked the forecast, and the forecast was always the same — high temperatures until about October 21, followed by weeks of temperatures in the 60s. The first day the temperatures slid down the 60s, I planted my bulbs, and it’s a good thing. I don’t know what happened to all those weeks of 60 degree weather, but somehow they evaporated. The current forecast shows frigid temperatures for a long time to come.

Today was a gorgeous day — deep blue skies and warm temperatures. By Monday we might have snow, and by Wednesday, we’ll be down to a low of 2 degrees. Nope. That’s not a typo. 2 degrees. Almost 0. Brrrrr!

I’d hoped to have my garage foundation finished by now to give me a protected place for my vintage VW, but with this forecast, who knows when the contractor will get to it. I just hope he manages to stop by to insulate my kitchen pipes before the freeze hits.

Thanks to everyone who takes a peek at my blogs. I appreciate all of you, even if I do have to be especially nice on this blog for a while.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.