I came here altricial.  Naked and blind.  I slowly grew in fluffy down feathers, covering my nakedness and warming me.  I grew in my contour feathers and flight feathers.  And soon I stepped into the abyss and found myself soaring above the heavens, riding the thermals and owning the sky. 

I flew over mountains as a raptor.  I danced with the herons, hundreds of us creating fractal patterns in the sky.  I wandered across the ocean as an albatross, bringing fate to those I followed.

I even danced with the devil in the pale moonlight, a lesson not timely learned.

When I flew too high my eyes were opened and I saw Icarus fall, his melted wings tumbling with him from the sky.  Yet my wings, grown of my soul, were only singed.  And I was no longer blind.

And now I will join the Phoenix, in our nest of cinnamon twigs, to embrace a new incarnation, to join again with the soul of Ra. 

I leave naked,
Just as I came,
But no longer blinded,
And never the same.

"Death rushed through our windows."

An epidemic of typhus, a disease transmitted by lice, broke out two weeks later. I was the first one to have a high fever; then many prisoners started to collapse, one after another, unable to walk. The Germans reacted by kicking them, but soon realized there was an epidemic and set up a room for the sick. The doctor sent for me and said, "You have to stay in there."

"Not me," I said; "I would rather work, even with the fever." The food was wonderful for the sick ones, since it included chocolate, an unimaginable luxury item. Oh, how tempting it was!

Twenty-nine people were confined to the sick room. One day, two trucks came to pick them up. The driver said, "Come on, there's room for 30 in the hospital where I'm taking these people."

"Fisch," the doctor said, "you're the sickest; come." But I did not go. I did not trust them. The doctor told me I was crazy not to go and said that he never wanted to see me or hear my complaints again. Many who were well volunteered to go to the "hospital," but only one "lucky" one was chosen to be number 30.

All were shot at the edge of the village.

.............from 'Light From the Yellow Star', Robert O. Fisch  http://www.holocaust-trc.org/ylstr01.htm" title="http://www.holocaust-trc.org/ylstr01.htm" target="_blank"http://www.holocaust-trc.org/...

A Birthday Song for my Deer Friend Bambi

I got weeds in my garden.
I got weeds in my soul.
I got weeds in my attic.
And I know they're gonna grow.

You know, weeds they are a funny thing.
You never know just what they'll bring.
The pokeweed feeds the birds that sing,
When it's 5 degrees below.

So if you've got things growin' up
Where you don't want them to be.
Chances are that it's a weed,
And chances are you'll see.

That sometimes things are really not 
What you think they seem to be.
Your weeds may yet be flowers or
Perhaps they're only weeds.

It all depends on where you look
And what's your point of view.
'Cause if you've flowers or just weeds
It's really up to you....

I got weeds in my garden.
I got weeds in my soul.
I got weeds in my attic.
And I know they're gonna grow.

This is a community.  A gathering of people with diverse backgrounds, diverse goals, and diverse opinions.  We will not always agree with each other.  But those who cannot treat others with respect.....

Those who cannot treat others with respect probably do not treat themselves with respect, either. 

And that does not make me angry.  It just makes me sad.

For an explanation of this post, feel free to read the post and comments here: Caught In a Maelstrom

This is such a divisive issue. I have read both sides here, yours and your detractor's.

I have crossed picket lines to have abortions, a terrified child. I still associate fig newtons and apple juice with comfort, nausea, and guilt. I have shared a room and spoken with an older mother whose teenage daughter (then my age) would not speak to her because she decided not to keep the unintended pregnancy when she was 40.

I have stood before a state senate, arguing in favor of a waiting period and informed consent, confessing the actual number of abortions that I had had, and the ages. I was 7 months pregnant with my first child at that time. I saw my name plastered across the headlines on the front page the next day, my secrets no longer secret.

I often say that I believe that things happen for a reason. I believe there is a reason that I ended up with 5 children, the last of them twins. Penance or forgiveness? Or simply irony?

It's true that your grandmother's story is yours, and a poignant one, too. Many women of her time still died in childbirth, even. Her choices were not easy then. A woman's choices are not easy now. At least the choice to have a child outside of marraige is more viable. And a man can be held responsible (often) for his share in the matter. But the choices are no easier.

Every where I go, I find this issue to be polarizing. It's something I can and cannot understand. I have travelled to both ends. No one I meet there seems to think that there is a middle ground.

But I stand in the middle. It's the only place I feel safe.

On Saturday we checked into the Holiday Inn and Convention Center at about 4:00.  I had reserved a poolside room on the 2nd floor, but they gave me one on the main floor, just set slightly off the pool. 

It was an ideal location since the kids could run back and forth to the pool and I didn't feel I had to sit out there the entire time.  There was a casting call for a movie in the room next to us, but by 6:45, they were picking up everything off of the table outside their room and calling it a day.

But midnight the kids had been swimming for several hours, pizza had been eaten, the cousin dropped off home, and the pool was closed.  There was an awful lot of noise coming into our room, but you have to accept that when you have a pool-side room.

By 1:00 AM, though, after having drifted in and out of sleep for about an hour, I called the front desk.  "Um, I was just wandering if you might be able to quiet things down here a little bit?"  "Sure, where is the noise coming from?"  "I think it's in that movie room next door."  "We'll send someone right down."

Then things got noisier for a few minutes, I heard knocks, loud voices, and soon it all seemed to quiet down a bit.  But at 2:00 the noise had picked up again to its loudest yet.  Another call.  "Um, It's really noisy down here.  I really need to get some sleep and I don't know what to do."  (It's true, I am sometimes utterly irrational if I have gone 2 or 3 nights without sleep.  And I rarely sleep well before a trip, so I'm a recipe for disaster when travelling with the kids.)  "And where is the noise coming from?"  "Everywhere.  But I still think it's that movie room."  "We'll send someone right down."

This time, I go into the bathroom, from which the children and I had clearly heard the R-rated auditions resonating from the next room earlier.  Strange.  It's actually quieter in here.  It's not the movie audition room!  So I wake up slightly and decide to wander out in my jammies to investgate.  I grab the room key and leave the room.

Two young men are talking right outside my room window.  A family of four with two toddlers are standing beside the rail on the second floor.  The couple are talking and looking a bit displaced and the children are fussy and loud.  At 2:15 in the morning??!!  Wa it.  On the second floor?  Damn.  The noises had been coming from the room right over my head!  Why did I think it was the audition room?  Security must have thought I was nuts.  But apparently they had taken care of the problem.  Only a few minutes ago there seemed to be a full (and large) party in progress.  Now the young family was leaving.  And whatever hordes had been lurking in the shadows - they seemed to be gone, too.

So I began wandering back to my room.  The two good-looking young men were still standing right outside my room talking.  Talking.  Droning on and on.  Did I mention that I can get really owlly when I am very tired??  I weighed my option - and then I did the unthinkable.  I marched right over to them and said "People are trying to sleep in there.  Do you think you could move??"  They looked at me as if I were insane and nodded, but didn't move.  Only a second had passed when I added, "It's *bleeping* 2:00 in the morning!"

Then I stalked over to my door and inserted the card with a self-righteous flair.  No green light.  Tried again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  The card was not going to work.  I knocked a few times, at first quietly and then louder.  Those kids were not waking up.  Then I tried the card again several times.  No use.  The card was not going to work.  I was very careful not to look towards the men, who were still standing only about 6 feet away from me, quite silent now.  I evaluated my options, and then I pounded loudly and repetitively on the door, surely waking up every room up to 6 rooms away.

The door opened and I slunk inside.

Hubby was a coupla hours away yesterday when his car began gushing oil and stalled. 

He had it towed to a garage and caught a ride home.

The oil drain plug was completely gone.  It is unknown if there is any permanent damage, but as of a few minutes ago, the garage called and said that it was running and sounded fine.

We got our regular oil change only 250 miles ago.  I called our regular garage, where we spend hundreds, sometimes thousands a year on our multiple older cars.  They said they would make it right, even if we needed a new engine.

What a hassle for poor hubby.  He looked forward to driving after a year of no driving at all, no freedom, and he has had nothing but trouble since he became eligible.

He will be home alone with the oldest daughter for the weekend, as I am off to Omaha with the youngest four.  They (hubby and #1) were hoping to go canoeing and go to movies and out to dinner.  Won't be able to do any of that without this car.  (Because of restriction, it is the only car equipped and legal for him to drive.) 

He's on his way to pick it up now.  Wish him luck! 

In 1997 I had just had the twins and money was tight.  We didn't have anything suitable to haul 5 kids around in.  I had totalled our older Suburban two weeks after the twins were born, while driving sleep-deprived.  So I badgered hubby and we went to look at a van in the paper that was pretty cheap.  It was painted TAXI yellow because - YES - it used to be a taxi and you could still see a big unfaded spot on the door where the magnetic sign used to be.  We bought it for next to nothing. 

On Christmas eve 1998 we were taking it to Omaha and it broke down on the way.  Serious stuff - it threw a rod.  Hubby started walking to the nearest exit, and we called AAA to tow the van away.  A semi truck driver with a sleeper cab stopped to find out what he could do to help.  Turns out he was going to Omaha and he gave us (all 7 - the twins in carrier car seats) a ride the rest of the way.  We called ahead for my mother-in-law to meet us.  Since she only had a car, she had to make two trips to take us home.  We bought another van the day after Christmas. 

On the way back home, we stopped by the van long enough to sell it to a local scrap dealer.  My kids nearly cried for that van!!  They still tell me they remember it and miss it!  Go figure.....

We called that truck driver (Steve) an angel and he truly was.  We always remember trucker Steve at Christmas.  We didn't know how to contact him, so we couldn't properly thank him.  But to be honest, I don't think we're entirely convinced that he was "real".  He certainly illustrated the spirit of Christmas in a way my children (the ones that were old enough to remember) will never forget!

I'm going to try to keep a running tab on my resolutions at least once a month, so here goes:

Fitness - In the 3 monts I've been working out, I've lost 20 lbs.  I've enjoyed wieght-lifting and spinning.  I've been talking to my trainer about taking it to the next level and I had to choose between training for a tri-athalon or for an amateur body-building competition.  I've decided to persue bodybuilding first and see how it goes.  The first competition is in December.

Finance - Through being really careful and lot's of belt-tightening by tracking every single purshase, we've saved $4000.  Hubby wants to break ground on a pool this spring, but I don't know.  The weather in the midwest limits pool use to 3 or 4 months a year.  I'd rather have a sun-room with a jacuzzi.  But with the teens, a pool would be a good way to keep them and their friends at home....

Family - Things are going well and now that all five of the girls are all 8 and over, Hubby and I are talking about adopting a boy.  It would be nice to have a little one in the house again and experience life with a boy in the house.  It's just talk so far....  We are also may consider fostering instead.

Fecal Connectivity - Well, I've finally come to some conclusions on the state of my spiritual journey.  (This is THE most exciting part!!!)  I've enrolled in the Maharashi University in Fairfield Iowa to start my Master's degree and then complete a PHD!  http://www.mum.edu" title="http://www.mum.edu" target="_blank"http://www.mum.edu It was founded by His Holiness Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.  As far as I know, this is the only university in the states that requires daily transcendental meditation.  And it's only about 70 miles away!!!  I start this fall and I cannot wait!!!  I commute is a bit long, a little over an hour, but the family is very supportive.  I will be working on Vedic Science degrees.  Here's a copy of the course description: 

"In these courses students cover all of the major themes of Maharishi Vedic Science, including the philosophy of action, higher states of consciousness, and collective consciousness. Students study the most recent books written by Maharishi, as well as his first book, the Science of Being and Art of Living. Students develop writing and speaking skills as they apply Maharishi Vedic Science to health, education, management, and rehabilitation."

Usually my word-definition subscription service is quite mundane, but lately it's gotten much more enlightening...:

luculent LOO-kyuh-luhnt, adjective:
   Clear; easily understood.

sapid SAP-id, adjective:
   1. Having taste or flavor, especially having a strong pleasant
   flavor.
   2. Agreeable to the mind; to one's liking.

contemn kuhn-TEM, transitive verb:
   To  regard  or  treat  with  disdain or contempt; to scorn; to
   despise.

aliment AL-uh-muhnt, noun:
   1. Something that nourishes or feeds; nutriment.
   2.   Something   that  sustains  a  state  of  mind  or  body;
   sustenance.

temporize TEM-puh-ryz, intransitive verb:
   1.  To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay
   action.
   2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing
   opinion or circumstances.
   3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
   4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

magniloquent mag-NIL-uh-kwent, adjective:
   Lofty or grandiose in speech or expression; using a high-flown style of discourse; bombastic.

Sooo......500 tbucks or a 'Woot Woot' to the first magniloquent blogger to use them all in a reasonably luculent sentence.  On your mark, get set, ... no temporizing!!!...GO!

Death Valley, Calif., is known as the lowest, hottest and driest place in the United States. But this winter, record rains have created a wildflower bonanza, and people are flocking to the desert to see the show. Check out NPR's story here:  http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story .php?storyId=4521310" title="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story .php?storyId=4521310" target="_blank"http://www.npr.org/templates/...

This pic is from the Moab desert site, circa 2004.  Find the site here: http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWERS/DSC02278.html" title="http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWERS/DSC02278.html" target="_blank"http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWER...

Saving the best for last:  Photographer Richard Dickey has spent 19 years documenting desert blooms.  His images are beyond stunning and I hope to use them as the models for paintings.  I have not placed any of his pics here due to copyright concerns, but you will be blown away should you visit his site...here:  http://www.feralflowers.com/home.html" title="http://www.feralflowers.com/home.html" target="_blank"http://www.feralflowers.com/h...  If you click on only one link, this one should be it.

You can't see all of it.  The sides are cut off because of my scanner.  I updated it to spread it out a little, and the cut/paste resulted in the line down the left side of the painting.

This is my soul.  I found it in a box in the attic.
No really, go ahead and take it out and look at it.
Don't be afraid.  You can't hurt it.
Go ahead, poke it.  Try dropping it. 
You can even throw it against the wall.
It's very resilient.

This is my soul.  It was in the linen closet.
Folded in the darkness.  I thought I might take it out.
Hang it on the curtain rod.
No - it won't bleach out in the sunlight.
And it won't block out the sun from the room.
It's very translucent.

This is my soul.  I found it in the bathroom, under the sink.
I washed it off and it looks pretty good.
I had to take an old toothbrush to the cracks.
But now it's really shiny and reflective.
I thought I'd set it on the coffee table.  On a platter.
It's quite decorative.

This is my soul.  At first I didn't even know I had it.
But one day it was just there. Like a weed.
Like the poppy flower that blooms in the back yard.
By the swingset where I don't mow for weeks.
A lovely pink pom with a shady opium past. 
It's quite astonishing.

KMEOM

How rich are you?  To Find out, go to Global Rich List http://www.globalrichlist.com" title="http://www.globalrichlist.com" target="_blank"http://www.globalrichlist.com....

Be sure to check out the "Why are we doing it?" and "How do we calculate it?"  Links at the bottom.

Did You Know?:  (copied from site)
Three decades ago, the people in well-to-do countries were 30 times better off than those in countries where the poorest 20 percent of the world's people live. By 1998, this gap had widened to 82 times.

As far as nit-picking goes:  (Me again)
I wasn't sure if I should put in my household income, or divide it by the number of people in my house.  I decided to go with "divided by two" for the adults.  The other issue that skews the results is taxes and standards of living.  For instance, if I make $50,000 in the US, is that really comparable to the same (current exchanges rates) amount of money in Mexico, Germany, Switzerland, India, New Zealand, any country ending in "istan", or Peru?  Probably not.  Which is why many retired Americans now dominate entire towns and cities in South America.  But that's just nit-picking.  Regardless of where you are, chances are you're pretty rich on the world scale.

More about names:

When I worked on the phones 20 years ago selling the Amoco Motor Club to Amoco gas card holders, I ran across this surname:  Dikshit.  I didn't want to get fired, so I pronounced it Dike-shite.  I never saw the (East Indian) name again, but I often told my friends about it when the subject of odd names or cultural issues came up.

Then last year the Indian Parliament had a major upheaval, I can't remember what it was, but NPR reported on it.  I got the biggest kick out of Steve Innskeep referring to an Indian official being quoted as "so-and-so Dikshit" (and yes, it is pronounced just like dickshit) not once, but 3 times.  I was transported back to Jr High, pointing at the radio, convulsed in giggles, saying - "He said Dickshit on NPR!!!!"  Oh my...  good times....

I wonder how many common or uncommon American names sound obscene in other countries.  Examples, anyone?

Good times....

So my 8-year olds are leaving through old picture albums, and they begin discussing one pic that's 3 or 4 years old.  "aah, good times..." sighs one of them....

The banging Window

There's a storm window right beside my computer that is banging constantly in the breeze.  I knew last year that the wood had become decayed and the window needed re-mounted, but I haven't done a damn thing about it.  I suppose I should add that to the list of "things to do when I'm not blogging.....

No spinning for me...

I could have spun today.  It was the last day for the Tuesday morning class as they are discontinuing it next month.  The dirty truth is.....I haven't worked out for 10 days!  *gasp*  Well, there were meetings, and I've started helping my friend on Mondays and Wednesdays and last week was spring break and I had the WORST cold last week for 4 days.  Today was really the first day I've had full strength since the cold, so it would have been perfect to work out!!  But I decided to take a mental-health day instead.  I'm paying the bills and organizing my desk and balancing the check-book and updating my calendar.  Then I have to take one kid to the Dr and the other to drum lessons.

Yesterday was a really long day

No - really.  It was.  Here's proof:

4:30 Wake up after bad dream and decide since I've had over 6 hours sleep, might as well get up.
4:30 - 6:30  Fold Laundry, put away & wash dishes, vacumn and read paper.  Take shower.
6:30 - 7:30  Wake up kids.  Make bacon, pancakes and eggs for kids for breakfast.
7:30 - 8:30  Send kids off to bus-stop.  Clean up after breakfast.  Get dressed.  Post "WW3" on tblog.
8:30 - 9:00  Drive hubby to work.
9:00 - 9:30  Go to Girl Scout store to buy things I need for meeting later.
9:30 - 10:00  Drive home.  Run in and put bowl of "byzantine meatballs" in microwave.  Grab toothpicks and tray.
10:00 - 11:00  Take meatballs to school to watch daughter's report on the Byzantine Empire.  Feed meatballs that daughter and I made the day before to class.
11:00 - 11:15  Stop by nursing home to see if friend needs me today.  She is gone at her daughter's house.  Stop by her son's work to relay message - does she need me on Weds?
11:15 - 2:00  Come home.  Take advantage of un-expected free time!  Get mail.  Process Mail.  Log onto tblog and discover nuclear fall-out.  Spend time changing blog and deleting or hiding posts.
2:00 - 3:00  Finish getting things ready for girls-scout meeting.  Make plans for one daughter to babysit for her cousins after school.
3:00 - 4:00  Pick up daughter, bring her home to baby-sit.  Go back to school for GS meeting.  Make plans for GS daughter to get ride home.  Excuse myself from meeting early.  Get call to pick up hubby at 5:00.
4:00 - 4:30  Free time.  Tblog updates.  Check in with baby-sitting group.
4:30 - 6:00  Pick up hubby.  Take to Post Office.  Try to kid-nap.  (read previous post if you need to).  Drop off hubby at home.
6:00 - 10:00  Drive back into town.  Go to library.  tblog for exactly 60 minutes.  Drive around a lot.  Go to shoe store to buy daughter shoes for track.  Pick up sushi.  (First time I ate, not including 3 pieces of bacon and 6 small meatballs).  Drive home.
10:00 - 11:00 Log onto internet and find out about Minnesota school killings.  Hubby comes in to hug me and tell me he loves me.  I try not to let go, but do.  Daughter comes down to ask if she can go see Easley at House of Blues in Chicago for her birthday present, and we look up ticket info.  Sat night sells out as we watch, but Sunday is still available.  I say I will check with her dad.  Friend calls to say she is not sure if she will need me.  8-year olds creep downstairs and informed me that they cannot sleep because tonight they have watched "Sean of the Dead" and need to sleep with me.  Tell them to hop in bed.  They are warm and snuggly and not as tree-limbed as usual.  Goodnight.

I mostly chose the title for the fun of it, but I suppose there is some truth in it.

If I were a psychic, I would be out of a job.  I was excited, even somewhat - well, maybe not happy, but certainly positive when I got hubby's note regarding World War 3.  My hopeful demeaner was short-lived, though.

At last, I thought, At last we can toss aside the fluff and wade into it.  Well, we didn't wade very far.  First we were headed to dinner, then not.  Insults were hurled, there was lots of yelling.  I tried to kidnap him and haul him off to Chicago.  He was going to call the police to report a kidnapping.  Then I tried to make him walk home.  This was not a positive prospect for him, since his cell-phone was down and we were 20 miles from home.  Then he took the keys to the car.  My cell-phone works, though, so I was just going to call the locksmith.  We both temporarily conceded.  I dropped him off home and left.  How something so sad can be so very funny, I do not know.

I told him I don't really care if he reads my blog or not, although I do find it rather strange that he did so surrepticiously.  He said I didn't need to delete the blog, so I "unhid" what I had not already deleted.  Glad I didn't delete anything important....

I've never used the internet at the library before.  It's actually quite easy (and free).  But why does it have so many pop-ups?  Shouldn't they have software installed to prevent that?

EDIT - OK, if it wasn't obvious to y'all, I have control issues.  Yes!  Me!  I know, I know....  So I'm going back to stage 1 and keeping my nose on my own face and not putting it in anyone else bidness.  I'm not gonna worry about the issues that he is dealing with unless he wants me too.  I used to worry that this path was leading to the dreadful "parallel lives"...  You know, where they stay married, but they are really just room-mates.  Television is full of those couples.  They've been married for 30 years but they don't love each other.  Well.  I'm not gonna worry about that.  And I'm not gonna worry about his problems.  I'm keeping my eyes on my own.  We'll be OK.

http://www.typogenerator.net" title="http://www.typogenerator.net" target="_blank"http://www.typogenerator.net

I have begun World War 3. 

Oh yes, I knew I was pushing the button.  But I chose to do it anyway.  Call it apathy, acting out, suicidal tendancies...whatever you want.  It means nothing now.  For the beginning of the end has come.

Oh sure, I can joke about it.  But it's really not very funny, in the long run.  Black humor masks the stench of decay.

*sigh* And here, I had planned for detente.  The best-laid plans of mice and men have been discussed, but what of those of women? 

Oh, don't let my apparent regret fool you.  I maintain an aggressive assualt pattern, with no plans for relief efforts.  I have support-plans for the innocent children, but they remain in hot zones under their own risk.

On Saturday night I called my husband a liar who prioritized his television over his children.  I accused him of making a patently transparent bluff.  I told him that it was his fault we have seen problems with the older children recently.  I did this in front of his 5 children.  Yep.  Right at the dinner table. 

There has been some back-lash, this is true.  In a clandestine assualt, I installed NetMop to eliminate inappropriate late-night Net activities, (long-deplored by my administration) but it interfered with my tblog, so I deleted it immediately.  I am evaluating other options.  I have resigned the post of "DVD librarian".  The DVDs that were not put away landed in the "Good Will" box.  They were discovered, retrieved and then left out again.  They are now in the waste basket. 

The path I have chosen is ill-advised, imprudent and immature.

Oh well...

I never met my first love's father, though I saw him just once.  His father was committed to an institution 8 years before I met Jay.  Jay was 16 when this happened.  He was the oldest, and immediately became the man of the house, the responsibilities of running the family farm thrust upon him.

He didn't endure anything countless others haven't had and worse through eons of human experience.  At least he and his mom, and his brothers and sisters had the farm.  They did OK.

I met him when he was 24.  His mother, Phylis, always intrigued me.  She had the light of a girl in her eyes.  She must have been - oh what - at least 44 when I met her.  Barely older than I am, now.  She was pretty - beautiful when she smiled.  The beauty of a woman who raises chickens and bucket calves and drives tracktors and combines.  ...But her husband had been in a what? - nursing home? mental hospital? for 8 years.  Eight years.  He didn't know who she was any more.  But still she visited him.  I don't know how often.

He had Huntington's Disease.  This is a multi-faceted genetic disease that usually presents itself in one's 40's or 50's.  Once you know you have it, you have probably already had children.  There is a 50% chance that they will get it.  Jay is 50 now.  As far as I know he is symptom-free.

Jay told me that he only saw his father cry once.  When he was small, his mother was helping his father with a hitch.  Something went wrong and one of her fingers was severed.  His father blamed himself and was devastated.  Jay never once saw his father angry or raising his voice toward his mother.  At least, not until after the symptoms appeared.

See, Huntington's affects the brain.  First it starts with nervous ticks and involuntary twitches and jerks.  Then your personality changes.  You may become angry, sullen, prone to outbursts.  You eventually lose the capacity to care for yourself.  Then dementia and death.  Jay saw all of that.  The loss of physical control, the loss of mental control.  Then he went away.  Shortly after that, he stopped recognizing themwhen they visited.  After a while jay stopped visiting.  Yet his mother still did.  Jay's father died when Jay was 26.  I went to the funeral of the man that I had never seen.  The father of the man I loved.  I was a foolish 16 year old child.  I could see the resemblance.  I could see almost precisely what my lover would look like in another 20 or so years.  Of course, that was 24 years ago.

About 10 years ago, I heard that Phylis had married again.  I heard that she was happy, had married a farmer from a town about 8 miles down the road.  I was so pleased by this news in a way that is difficult to explain.  I know how much she loved Jay's father.  And I know it now so much more than I knew it then.  And even though I haven't seen her in 20 years, I can still see her smile.  It was hauntingly beautiful.  Hauntingly.

This post was blatantly and unabashedly stolen.  *gasp* http://encarta.msn.com/column_womenshistory_ marthahome/Eight_great_wo men_five_awful_ones.html?GT1=6305" title="http://encarta.msn.com/column_womenshistory_ marthahome/Eight_great_wo men_five_awful_ones.html?GT1=6305" target="_blank"http://encarta.msn.com/column...

Eight Great Women, Five Awful Ones
by Martha Brockenbrough

March is Women's History Month--the sort of event that makes some people say, "Hey. What is so special about women's history? And when is men's history month?"

The smarty-pants answer to that is that every month is men's history month. But as with most smarty things, that's not a very satisfying answer, and women's history deserves more than the smarty-pants treatment. It's a vast subject, spanning both the globe and the thousands of years we humans have been recording events.

But there's one way that Women's History Month has tended to be, well, a little sexist.

History tends to favor heroes. Despite this fact, most history books will also teach you about the bad men--warlords, dictators, and crazy emperors who turned their horses into senators.

The baddies of women's history, on the other hand, don't get nearly as much play. And the fact is, there have been some pretty bad apples. So, in the name of equality--and the right of women to be just as wicked as men--here are the stories of 13 women, 8 good and 5 bad.

The good eggs

Agnodice
In the 4th century BC it was illegal for women to practice medicine in Greece. But the 1st-century-AD author Hyginus wrote that one Greek woman, Agnodice, disguised herself as a man, studied medicine, and set up a bustling practice in Athens. Scholars debate whether Hyginus's tale is true, but I wonder if one reason we can't find corroborating evidence is that she was a woman.

According to Hyginus, Agnodice was so successful that other doctors got jealous and accused her of "corrupting" aristocratic women. So, Agnodice revealed that she was a woman herself--and was promptly arrested and sentenced to death.

Her devoted patients came to her rescue. All noblewomen, they threatened to kill themselves if she was executed. It worked, and thereafter, all free women could become doctors--as long as they treated women only.

The Trung sisters and Phung Thi Chinh
Trung Trac and Trung Nhi, sisters and widows of Vietnamese aristocrats, led a major uprising against Chinese invaders in AD 39. Trung Trac ruled for four years before the Chinese conquered Vietnam again, but resistance continued for the next 1,000 years. Many women figured in the resistance, notably Phung Thi Chinh, who fought while pregnant, paused to give birth, and rejoined the fight with her baby on her back.

Deborah Sampson
During the Revolutionary War Sampson put on a man's uniform and fought under the alias Robert Shurtleff. Hit in the leg during the Battle of Tarrytown, Sampson removed the musket balls herself so that no one would guess her identity. She later took a shot in the shoulder at the Battle of Yorktown and came down with brain fever (an old-timey term for inflammation of the brain). It was only then that a doctor figured out her secret.

Accounts differ over what happened next, but Sampson was eventually given an honorable discharge. Paul Revere later helped her get a soldier's pension, and she went on to give lectures about her experience.

Nellie Bly and Ida Wells-Barnett
Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman--using the pen name Nellie Bly--helped invent an important kind of journalism, even if it did get an ugly name: muckraking. Writing for Pittsburgh and New York newspapers, Bly exposed corruption, horrible prison conditions, slums, and factory abuses. Her most famous exploit, however, was probably the ten days she spent disguised as a patient in a mental hospital in 1888. Her book, 10 Days in a Madhouse (1888), became a bestseller.

Bly didn't stop there. In 1889 and 1890, she circled the globe in 72 days, 6 hours, and 11 minutes, beating Jules Verne's fictional 80-day mark. The story of that adventure, Nellie Bly's Book: Around the World in Seventy-two Days (1890), also became a bestseller.

Ida B. Wells-Barnett was Bly's equally remarkable contemporary. Wells-Barnett is kind of a precursor to Rosa Parks. In 1884 Wells-Barnett, the daughter of former slaves, was traveling on a first-class train ticket to Memphis. White passengers complained that she should leave the first-class car, but Wells-Barnett refused to move to the smoking section, which was reserved for blacks. She was eventually kicked off the train.

Wells-Barnett sued the railroad and won a $500 judgment, but the Tennessee Supreme Court later overruled her victory. She told her story in a newspaper--launching her career as an activist journalist.

Valentina V. Tereshkova
You hear a lot about Sally Ride, who in 1983 became the first American woman in space. But Soviet cosmonaut Valentina V. Tereshkova beat her into orbit by 20 years. In 1963 Tereshkova rode the Vostok 6 spacecraft into orbit and circled the Earth a whopping 48 times during her three-day mission.

To put this in perspective, Tereshkova spent more time in orbit than all the U.S. Mercury astronauts combined. (Too bad she didn't write a book, Around the World 48 Times in Three Days: Neener, Neener, Nellie Bly.)

The bad apples

Countess Nadasdy
This Hungarian countess, also known as Elizabeth Bathory, had a disturbing beauty regimen. She believed that soaking in human blood would keep her forever young, giving a new and hideous meaning to the term bloodbath.

It didn't work. But before she died in 1614, she had stolen the lives of hundreds of female servants. (The Web site Bathory.org says her diary documented 612 killings, but other sources offer slightly different figures.)  (Note from Alt - she is also known as the world's first documented female serial killer.)

Mary Reade and Anne Bonney
Pirates are bad, but women pirates could be especially dastardly. In the early 1700s, Mary Reade and Anne Bonney donned menswear and terrorized the West Indies. (This is after Reade had served in both the British army and navy, but decided, evidently, that her survival depended on plundering instead of public service.)

The pirating pair was captured in 1720 and sentenced to hang for their crimes. But, choosing an escape route not available to their male colleagues, they claimed to be pregnant--and after they were released, they fled (according to one version of the story). Another version claims that Mary Reade later died of fever and that no one knows what happened to Anne Bonney, other than the fact that she wasn't executed.

Mary Mallon
"Typhoid" Mary Mallon worked as a cook in New York, and after an outbreak of the disease in 1904, she was recognized as a carrier. But this didn't stop her from handling food. She went from job to job, infecting the innocent until she was caught in 1907 and committed to an institution until 1910.

She wasn't supposed to work in food service again but did--spreading more disease in her wake. In all, authorities attributed 51 cases and three deaths to "Typhoid" Mary, who was institutionalized again in 1914. She died in 1938 but not from typhoid. She was immune to the disease.

Ilse Koch
Last but not least is Ilse Koch, who committed atrocities in Nazi concentration camps (for which she got life in prison). But this wasn't the extent of her crimes: She also collected lampshades and other ornaments made from human flesh.

So there you have it. The best of women, the worst of women. But most important, a reminder that women have been right there with men, all through the years.