happy birthday to me

Fifty-two does not feel particularly momentous. In fact, it feels an awful lot like fifty-one. The cake candles do not burn brighter than the previous year. This year however, the cake was accompanied by a fire extinguisher, thoughtfully provided by an employee. That was new!

So what fresh ideas pop into my head as a way of marking this annual recognition of time?

I would like to suddenly become wealthy. But even as this idea pops into my head, simultaneous thoughts rush in. 'Be careful what you wish for! Your wealth could be a legal settlement for paralysis! It could attract bad guys who kidnap you and then murder you after they get the ransom! It could be in the form of lottery winnings which might attract crazy people bent on destroying your new, wealthy lifestyle! It could be profits from that newly published novel, which attract a stalker who imagines you as his soul mate!'

I may not be wealthy, but I have a rich imagination.

words, glorious words

On NBC's Today Show recently, Katie Couric used "zeitgiest", "kismet moment" and "American psyche" all in the same sentence. And suddenly I understood, for the very first time, why liberal Democrats (or progressives) lose the rest of the country. We like our intellect a bit too much. We love words and people who don't know words are intimidated. So they do what they did in high school. They create their own circle and they tell the smartypants people that they can't come in. Yes, I know. This is an extreme oversimplification. I don't care. I had a kismet moment. HAHA

oya and sophia

People often ask me how I happened to choose the pen name OyaSophia. I was actually pretty deliberate about it. I wanted to be inspired by the stories and images of Goddesses. Since I knew nothing about Goddesses, I did some research.

Oya is the Yoruban Goddess of storms (or fierce winds or tempests). She is often depicted handling a tornado or some lightning. She is all about change and transformation. She is a Warrior Queen. What a wonderful muse for a writer! Oya is also a nurturing, protective mother. Anyone who has been a mother knows the overwhelming power you feel when you believe that your child is in danger. We would do anything to protect our babies. This is the power of Oya. But by herself, she was a bit too fierce. So I added Sophia.

Sophia is the Gnostic Goddess of wisdom. She is often presented as the most grounded of the divine. In the Gnostic Gospels found in Nag Hammadi, she was presented as the third manifestation of God, but was later altered to remove her feminine identification and transformed into what we now think of as "The Holy Spirit". (She also appears in many other religions, but is most powerful and wise in the Gnostic tradition.) Some people believe that Leonardo Da Vinci painted her just to the right of God in that famous Sistine Chapel painting that shows God reaching out his hand to Jesus. Go take a look!

Together, Oya and Sophia represent wisdom that comes from going through a storm. I often write to try to make sense of situations that I have weathered. I'm eager to learn.

Goddesses are symbols of the divine aspects of the feminine. Too often, women disappear from religious stories, or are regulated to minor roles. Any woman who has made it past childhood can tell story after story after story of women who have transformed situations, who have persevered, who have held each other up, who have swiftly and fairly meted out justice, who have stood tall in the face of danger, fear, the unknown or simply in the face of change. We know, instinctively, that women are powerful. I love the Goddesses because they represent our feminine power.

When I see the name OyaSophia on my blog title, it inspires me and humbles me. I am more careful about what I say. I am more aware of the responsibility I have as a woman and as a writer. It can't just be about me. My writing has to also be about how the reader may or may not be transformed. I hope that I am inspired by Oya and Sophia. I also hope that the inspiration will reach through my words and inspire others to be in touch with their creative side!

the pantry

The pantry in my Memphis home was huge. As a result, I could never find anything. Now, in my off hours, I am unpacking the boxes packed by the moving company and I'm finding many duplications of goods. I count five cans of diced tomatoes, three cans of tomato paste, four cans of cream of chicken soup and so on.

Not only does my tiny new home in Eagleville, PA lack a pantry, there is very little cabinet space in the kitchen. I have far too many things to fit in the space!

In my preparation to move from 4000 square feet to 950+ square feet, I was so busy paring down my furniture and accessories and clothes, that I failed to consider all of the stuff in that pantry. But all of these duplications makes me consider whether this isn't a good lesson for my life.

Is it possible that I have so much that I fail to see what I have? Are diced tomatoes symbolic of some other blessing that I have in abundance that I fail to be thankful for on any given day? Am I, in fact, seeking what I already have?

This is not the first time I have been faced with this lesson. When my son was six years old, I was running late one wintry morning and raced out to the car, only to find it covered with ice. I wanted to cry and silently complained to God as I scraped the ice from the passenger side of the car, "Could you not send me an angel who would do this for me?" I meant a partner in life, of course, a man who would scrape the ice from my car and do so many of the other tasks that husbands traditionally do. As I felt the full force of my bitterness flowing from me into that ice scraper, I glanced through the hole I was creating and noticed my son's sweet face smiling brightly at me through the hole he was creating in the ice on the other side of the car. I already had an angel. I smiled back and felt ashamed. Count your blessings, my grandfather used to tell us, count them - every one.

jamie

Then, there they are. The letters from his time in Iraq staring back at me from the cardboard box where they have been stored for these many years. I look at them, debating whether to open and read them again. I know that re-reading the letters, and, oh look, there are some greeting cards too from after he got back, will bring a huge sadness because ... well, because Jamie isn't walking on this Earth anymore. And I missed time with him, so busy with my own life.

I decide to open and read one card and pick one up at random. It is a Christmas card, no envelope, so I don't even know the year. But the content tells me it is after Desert Shield and Desert Storm. He is in the Golden Knights and he is headed to Arizona for off-season training. He is 8 months with his current girlfriend and things are looking promising for this relationship. His phone is changed because he was getting collections calls for two people he didn't even know. And he loves me and misses me.

And then I cry, mourning the loss of my friend again, wishing I had known that he needed a friend, needed me, towards the end of his life, wishing I could have been there for him. My mind goes through our long friendship. In college, when he longed for me, I was in love with someone else. Then, years later, after my divorce, when I was ready to love him back, he spiraled away from me. Then we just settled into a friendship. We were pen pals through Desert Shield and Storm. He wrote some of the most amazing letters ever. I can't read them right now. Maybe in a few years.

I hold him in a special place in my heart. He was my precious friend. Desperado. Jamie. I love you, sweetheart. Rest in peace.

process

The last few weeks in Memphis were pretty hectic. There was a going away party at work, complete with bar-b-q and all the trimmings. (Thank you, Phyllis!) There were projects to complete at work. There was a week spent with the guy who will be pinch-hitting as the president of the campus until a permanent president is named. There were many, many private conversations with students and employees who had warm things to say to me.

Meanwhile, there were conversations with landlords (attempts on the Memphis end and success on the PA end), utility companies (both ends), and moving companies (estimates, then the actual planning with the company selected to handle the move). There was a new home for Scamp, the little dog that I found back in December. (Thank you, Marcus!)

Then the last day of work was upon me! More conversations with very special employees and precious students. I turned over my keys to my wonderful Office Manager and carried the last of my belongings out to the car. I drove away, not feeling sad about my departure. It felt right.

Saturday and Sunday, I flew through the house like a tornado, packing up all remaining crap that I did not want. All kinds of people came by in response to my three new Craig's List ads. More books and clothes and furniture went out the door. All of the empty boxes from my move to Memphis were picked up by a young couple moving to Texas. (I had held on to them, just in case I was financing my next move. You never know!) I also packed up my belongings that were going with me in my car, including my Grandmother McClarin's Limoges.

On Monday, the packers arrived. They worked fast. I finally heard from my Landlord, who gave me phone numbers for carpet people and cleaning people. I warned him that I might not be able to get everything done. He reassured me that he could put a lockbox on the door and the people he had recommended could come and go even if I wasn't there. Monday night I stayed at a hotel since everything was packed. I left Joe at the house because I figured it would be less stressful.

On Tuesday, the truck arrived and the movers carried all of my stuff out. The carpet guy came and I paid him almost a thousand dollars to replace the carpet that Scamp had damaged. (That was an expensive stray!!!) Then 1-800-GOT-JUNK arrived to pack up all the remaining crap in the house and garage. Whew!

On Wednesday, I did some cleaning at the house. Then I visited Comcast to turn in my cable box and the post office to complete a change of address. I took Joe to the hotel and he immediately burrowed under the bed covers.

Thursday, I hit the road! Joe was not a happy camper to find himself back in the cat carrier. Like a fool, I decided to drive all the way to Staunton, VA on the first day. I was trying to aim for the halfway point, but I couldn't find a cat-friendly hotel, so I kept getting further down the road. I didn't make a reservation though. Instead, I left it open. I figured if I got tired enough, I would be willing to sneak him in to a hotel that was NOT cat-friendly. But I did make it. The last 45 minutes was really hard. Ten hours was TOO MUCH for me for one day.

I thought it was appropriate to listen to gospel music while I traveled through the mountains of Tennessee. Joe's meows punctuated the music as he sang the kitty blues. It sounded kind of like this:

"I am a poor (meow!) wayfaring stranger, traveling through (meow!) this world of woe. Yet there’s no sickness (meow!) no toil or danger (meow!) in that bright world to which I go."

The hotel I ended up at was a but dumpy, but it was serviceable. Joe did not like it at all. He was jumpy the entire time we were there. I've seen lots of stories on bedbugs lately, so I was VERY paranoid and checked the bed closely. I called Daddy and he said that I really needed to go have breakfast at Mrs. Rowe's. I carefully set my alarm so I would have time to do that and still get into the Philly area before rush hour. I went to sleep with visions of Mrs. Rowe's spoon bread dancing in my head. Unfortunately, I forgot to change my clock from Central to Eastern time, so I got up an hour later than I intended. Sigh.

One visit to McDonald's later, I was on the road. My car's GPS routed me through Washington, D.C. When I ran MapQuest prior to my departure, it routed me through Harrisburg, PA. The D.C. route was a killer, with tolls galore. Maybe there would have been as many tolls going the other way. I will have to reactivate my E-Z-Pass account now that I am back in toll booth country!

Now I am safely esconced in my hotel room in PA. I called my mover after I arrived and was told my belongings won't be here until some point next week. That means I need to get comfortable in this hotel room. Joe is happy here. He is sound asleep beside me.

Since my stuff is not going to be delivered tomorrow, I plan to drive over to Allentown to visit my Dad. But my first task for tomorrow is to go to my apartment complex and pay the deposit and pick up my keys. I can't wait!

two saturdays remaining

This is getting hard! I have two Saturdays left before the packers come and I still have a TON of stuff to sort through. I just refuse to take this crap with me! My greatest enemy is procrastination! I start something, then get distracted, then sit down to take a break and time passes ... help!

so help me god

I have an old friend with whom I've recently reconnected on Facebook. His son was sworn in to the United States Army today. My friend was pretty upset because the Lieutenant in charge of the swearing in gave the soldiers a choice about whether to end their oath with "so help me, God". My friend is a conservative, a blue collar worker and he believes strongly in the Christian faith. His post ended with the statement "the liberals are taking over".

After I read my friend's post, I thought about a book I had read entitled So Help Me God: The Founding Fathers and the First Great Battle Over Church and State, authored by Forrest Church. The author cites numerous historical documents that show quite clearly that separation of church and state was an issue way back at the birth of our nation. It has never been a settled issue and probably never will be. Although I had no hope that it would make any difference whatsoever, I added a comment suggesting that folks interested in this issue might want to read Church's book.

But more interesting to me were the comments that other friends added to his post. One friend added the comment, "or less government interference in personal beliefs". At first I thought she was giving a contrary opinion to his. To me, less interference would mean that each person would decide for himself/herself about whether to add "so help me, God" to an oath. But after a few other people left comments indicating how disgusted they were at each enlistee being given a choice, she added another comment, "Is this America?"

I don't think she was even aware of how contradictory her two comments were. On the one hand, she was suggesting that the government stop interfering with private religious decisions. But on the other hand, she was indicating that she would like the government to force every person enlisting in the United States military to end the oath with "so help me, God". None of the commenters said anything contradictory to this train of thought. My comment came as close as I dared without risking endless flaming.

This is the problem with debates like this. Most of my friends, who are admittedly liberal to one degree or another, would state their opinion, then follow it with a statement that indicated that they would be fine with all people deciding for themselves. My few conservative friends are absolutely adamant that everyone should think like them. And many of them go on to add that anyone who doesn't agree with them is anti-American, evil, unpatriotic, anti-military, stupid or some other negative description. Insults usually fly in the direction of anyone who disagrees. And facts are NOT WELCOME.

The TEA Party, for instance, feels they are "Taxed Enough Already" and are protesting wildly all over the country. When you point out to them that some of the largest tax cuts for the middle class have been passed by Congress within the last year, under a Democratic president and a Democratic-controlled Congress, they refuse to believe it. For them, Democrats mean MORE taxes, so they do not want to be confused with the facts.

I am absolutely amazed at this failure of grown men and women to read and do their own research. They blindly repeat the conservative talking heads. There are probably times when I am guilty of believing the liberal talking heads, without doing my own research. But most of the time, I want to see the evidence with my own eyes. That's what we should ALL do, in my opinion. Demand to see the evidence!!!

pennsylvania

The week of July 19th will be the week that I relocate to Pennsylvania. There is so much to get done before then. It seems such a short time ago that I was going through this process to get ready for my move to Memphis. Moving is exciting, but it can also be really annoying!

Step One

Find a place to live in Pennsylvania. This is COMPLETE! I'll be living in a small apartment in Norristown, PA.

Step Two

Contact movers. Schedule walk-through to get estimates. I have to provide three estimates to my company. Then they will tell me which mover to use.

Step Three

Schedule PACK date for packers to come pack all of my stuff. Schedule LOAD date for the day the movers actually load my stuff on the truck. Schedule DELIVER date for the day the movers actually deliver my stuff to my new apartment.

Step Four

Sort and categorize. Am I packing it, selling it, throwing it away or giving it to charity? I am EXTREMELY thankful that my friend (Holly) has agreed to come to Memphis to help me with this project. My home is almost 4000 square feet and I am moving into a 1000 square foot space. I am thrilled to be down-sizing, but I am also fearful that I will not get rid of enough stuff.

Step Five

Yard sale!!! Holly is helping me with this too.

Step Six

Throw out or donate anything that doesn't go at the yard sale.

Step Seven

Packers, loaders do their thing.

Step Eight

Clean that house!

Step Nine

Contact all utilities and schedule shut off dates.

Step Ten

Submit change of address to post office.

Step Eleven

Leave!

During this same time period, I have a school to run, employees to supervise, problems to solve, a trip to New Jersey for a conference, a trip to North Carolina for a family reunion and two animals to deal with. I have still not found a home for Scamp, the Toy Fox Terrier who appeared in my neighborhood in December. I simply can NOT take him with me, so I am afraid I am getting closer and closer to an inevitable trip to the animal shelter where he will almost certainly be euthanized. Very sad!!!

This should be an interesting time!!!

oil slick & tar balls

The cruise I took last week followed a track around the island nation of Cuba. So, from Fort Lauderdale, we took a short jaunt to an island in the Bahamas. Then we sailed around the Eastern end of Cuba and tracked back to the west towards Jamaica. Then we skipped further west to Grand Cayman. A little past the southwestern tip of Cuba, we stopped at Cozumel. After leaving Cozumel, we sailed back east across the northern coast of Cuba, just east of the Gulf of Mexico for a full day at sea.

There was a period of time during that sea day that I sat out on our balcony looking out at the ocean. It was the last day of the cruise, which always brings some sadness. I was gazing down at the water when I noticed that the surface of the water had a strange sheen to it that I did not remember ever noticing on any of my prior cruises. I stood up to take a closer look. My neighbor happened to be out on his balcony. He asked me, "Does that look like oil to you?" It did. I nodded my head. The pattern in the sheen could not have been the result of just water.

Watching CNN coverage of the oil spill off the coast of Louisiana, one would think that it is not possible that we could have seen oil on the water that far south. But I truly think that we did.

This morning, tar balls began washing up on the beaches of Pensacola. If you've never vacationed on the west coast of Florida, this may not bring tears to your eyes like it did mine.

I am completely amazed that there are multiple people who shamelessly pontificate about the harmless nature of this oil spill. "There is always some oil naturally spilling into the ocean from oil sources." "Five years from now, this oil spill will have been naturally absorbed." "The liberal media is already running the sad pictures of the birds covered with oil, all designed to convince people that this is a catastrophic event." Logodaedaly usually amuses. In this case, it just makes me furious.

My prediction is that British Petroleum will ride this out with very little consequence. I do not trust politicians to hold BP accountable. And I believe that lawyers could keep any final decisions in stasis for years and years and years.