Fairy Blog Mother

Black and White Bush

2007-10-30T09:58:00.000-05:00

What we have in the White House is a leader with a black and white mentality in more ways than one. "W" seems to see everything in terms of "either/ or's", tuxedos, and bottom line- business and his personal wealth which he sees black print on white paper. And of course, the oil. Follow me on this one.

I just watched his news conference of October 30 at 10 AM. He used the time to scold Congressional Democrats on their attempt to tie in multi-billion dollar spending request for the Iraq/Afghanistan wars to the Children's' Health Insurance bill which he recently vetoed. Mr. Bush called this attempt irresponsible on the part of Congress. If I remember his statement correctly, he was outraged that Congress jeopardize the lives of those defending our country against terrorism. (He is in denial about the fact that he has put our soldiers in harms' way as middle men in a tribal power struggle and did it with the claim of WMD's which weren't there.)

By attaching the newly rewritten SCHIP bill to his war funding request Congress may see success in passing the bill and giving our children needed health care. (Does he really prefer emergency hospital visits to proactive health care as he said before? He obviously doesn't pay the bills like ordinary citizens.) He referred to this Congressional addendum as irresponsible social service spending. Health care for our children????? The very people our country will look to for our future leaders, soldiers, workers? Is he serious or simply a product of black and white thinking- maybe it's the tuxedos types he's lived with all his life, or the business black and white figures, or simply narrow-minded outlook?

The soldiers and the children- both are important. If we can pay Blackwater and Halliburton companies exhorbitant fees, why can't we care for the basic needs of our children?

The Dreaded "SIWA's"

2007-03-29T12:49:00.000-05:00

SIWA's are things that ' stand in the way of ' other things, better things. Some suggestions for happier living:

Don't let vocal public opinion 'stand in the way of' voicing your own opinion.

Don't let hesitancy 'stand in the way of ' action.

Don't let fear 'stand in the way of ' your own success.

Don't let PERFECT 'stand in the way of ' GOOD.

Talking Flip Flop Politics

2006-11-30T07:47:00.000-05:00

Quite honestly, I can't imagine anything worse than having George W give anyone a complement. His "Good job, Brownie," "I have full confidence in my Secretary of Defense, " "Prime Minister Nouri al Maliki is the right man for the job in Iraq," comments all seem to be a precursor to the recipients immediate downfall. Is "W" the modern day Brutus? A complement? A kiss? Downfall to follow?

It seems quite amusing to me that "W" was so quick to claim John Kerry changed his mind or 'flip flopped.' George W seems to be the master flopper.

His talk about a graceful exit from Iraq only when victory is achieved is delusionary. The healthiest exit this American citizen looks forward to is his.

November 6

2006-11-06T10:06:00.000-05:00

It's election day's eve. You have less than 24 hours to plan a time tomorrow when you will pull the lever, punch the chad, go to the polls, express your opinion, practice your civic responsibility, and enjoy the privilege that being a citizen of the United States affords you: THE VOTE!

The Fairy Blogmother doesn't believe in those who say, "My vote won't count." That statement is pure bull chips. Don't let anyone, ANYONE tell you that. Call them on that statement's falseness, vote against them, and yes, make them feel guilty.

But the most important reason for voting is one of respect:

No matter what anyone says, the greatest insult and act of disrespect towards the men and women in our Military Forces is to fail to vote in our own country. That, I believe is the ultimate "F U."

A Pie Graph of YOU

2006-08-31T05:13:00.000-05:00

Finally, a use for that mathematical skill you were first taught in elementary school: the pie graph. I offer it as a way to look at your life, assess it, and if you choose, to realign your priorities.

Compose of pie graph of your life's daily activities. Include some basic categories like: Work, Education, Play/Hobbies, Relationships, etc. Now assign each category a slice of the pie you call YOU. What amount of the whole do you allow each category to take up time in your day? If you're honest, you may find the results interesting, and your life in need of some tweaking? A well balaced pie is a thing of beauty, while a tilting pie is bound to fall.

A Complement Jar

2006-08-31T04:52:00.000-05:00

How to best start your day? My advice is to begin collecting those complements you receive daily in a jar. If you're a computer person, make it 'virtual' but if not, get yourself a nice shiny jar or glass vase and bright paper cards for those wonderful things people say about you. Maybe you should carry a pad with you to jot down the daily complements received? And each evening write these lovely thoughts on bright colored paper and toss them in the complement jar in your bedroom. How better to start your morning then a reading of just how wonderful you really are? It's a way to always wake up on the right side of the bed. If it's virtual, you can dig into the jar like cookies and enjoy a pick-up of spirits as needed sans the calories.

But your flaws and faults, you ask? Where to keep them? Why that's the reason you need the printed version of your wonderful qualities. We always seem to harbor the criticisms close, usually in the upper abdomen. It's time to dwell on the positive.

When peer pressure overtakes common sense

2006-08-20T11:29:00.000-05:00

Call it vacillating, giving in, selling you soul, or just plain retreating. Whatever you call it, when you behave thusly, you won't feel good about yourself for it. And I'm not saying that retreating from a situation doesn't have a place in your life, it does. Sometimes it's wiser to go along or retreat, but if you make this behavior a way of life, you simply won't have one of your own choosing. To put it visually, you'll always be in the passenger seat, and that's not the way to get where you want to go.

Before the 'feminist' movement, this submissive attitude was taught from mother to daughter: "Know your place," Don't be difficult." "Don't make waves." "Be nice." "You want to be liked, don't you?" Those words took their toll. Years of observing this behavior and hearing the words couldn't be expected to change attitudes and way of life in a generation or two or four.. Humans just don't do: "Do as I say and not as I do," well.

To make real behavior and attitude changes, humans need to witness the success that one can achieve by being assertive--- by being their own person and still caring about other human beings. So if you can't find such a person, one who truly marches to her own drummer without tramping on the whole parade, maybe it's up to you? Get out of the passenger seat and into the drivers' seat. Others need to follow your style. The only thing you have to lose is that constant feeling of frustration.

These are a few of my favorite quotes

2006-08-14T06:21:00.000-05:00

George Santayana: " Fanaticism consistes in redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim."

Embrace the balance and ride the tempo of your life the way it is -- slow and purposeful. Learn to dance according to the music that's being played . Horoscope for Aquarius from Yahoo 9/17/06

Aquarius Horoscope Yahoo 9/23/06
There's nothing wrong with retreat -- in fact, it's one of the easiest and simplest methods of self-preservation! If you're feeling under attack, you don't have to fight back. Simply walk away. The sight of your back will be an effective message to keep someone from crossing the line with you.

You Go Girl

2006-07-23T10:43:00.000-05:00

Much has been written lately about males falling behind in school. When I taught first grade, the theory was that the predominantly female faculty in the elementary grades presented material which favored female learning style; one which was less physical and more dependent on language and verbal/listening skills. Thus, the gap between educational success in males and females may have begun in the primary grades.

This month came news that less males were enrolled in higher education/college, and that in this setting, too they were not as proficient as females. Is this a continuation of the trend that began in elementary setting? Or is this a sign of a tendency of laziness displayed by males in our society? Perhaps Jack knows that the 'good ole boy' network won't let him down in the end? Somehow "he" not "she" will ultimately prove to be the "best man for the job." Why expend energy in study and work early in life when it isn't necessary?

If we know that females perform at a higher intellectual level than do the males, and are more intuitive, are better 'multi-taskers,' why then don't women hold public office and corporate leadership jobs and pay rates at a higher rates or even equal rates than men? Aren't intelligence, positive work ethic, tenacity, and intuitiveness the skills needed for leadership? How is it then that men can forge ahead later in life, and grab the management jobs if they are such slackers in school?

One suggestion was that in the past, women never played team sports, for it is in such a setting that humans learn cooperation and acceptance of criticism. But today women DO play team sports. Can they now learn to accept criticism, embrace it, learn from it and forge ahead? Learn to ignore the name-calling and ostracism that doing a job well sometimes brings to females in our society? Begin to feel secure as they fight for the right to be at the top of the heap? Can they form a "gal pal" network of their own? One which not only rivals the "good ole boy" one, but which surpasses it? Who better than women to offer a 'hand up' to support to a fella female?

It's time, not for a new feminist movement, but for a movement which would lead society to a more equal and honest place. And woman must fearlessly lead the way.

Boston and its Tunnel Issues

2006-07-18T11:08:00.000-05:00

I returned last night from a trip to Boston's Logan Airport where I picked up a friend from an international flight.

The Aer Lingus pilot probably had an easier time navigating the Atlantic skies and Boston's runways than did I finding my way to and from the airport.
I contend that "Tunnel vision" is the problem.

It seems that the Boston area is fraught with traffic issues now multiplied due to death and destruction -falling ceiling and tunnel closings . But I think that Governor Romney, though well intended, as he tries to deal with problems in the tunnel in his capital city has developed some "Tunnel Vision" himself.

It was wonderful for him to take a stand and oversee the problems (other than obscene financial ones) associated with "The Big Dig." But how short- sighted of Mitt not to place some much needed directional signs to the Mass Pike for tourists and out-of-towners who have to navigate the daily changes in the airport route while avoiding irritated local drivers as they search for access to highways.

When you do a job, do it well. I thought that's what was to be learned from the construction fiasco in Boston.

The Fun in Fundraising

2006-06-04T19:08:00.000-05:00

I do believe that everyone should volunteer in their community. Find an agency you believe in, and give some of your time to make someone else’s life better. My choice is the Boys and Girls Club. It’s an organization that helps to level the playing field for the youth in the community. The Club offers all children a chance to learn computer, sports, study, organizational, presentation, and social skills. By providing a safe place to stay and play after school, children are given a wonderful opportunity to “belong” to a positive group in their community. The ‘disadvantaged’ youth, often children of single parents and those more often in a low socio-economic group can learn skills so that they can feel competitive with the kids from wealthier families. Denzel Washington and Colin Powell will attest to the positive effect that membership in a Boys and Girls club can have in a young life. I believe in the merits of this organization and I give my time to help it.

So for the third year, I have packed my car with articles needed to help our local Club run a fundraiser called “Kenducky Derby.” It’s a rubber duck race. Board members sell tickets for ducks at $5 a piece to raise funds to enhance the programs for the children at the Club in our town, and solicit prizes for winners of the duck race. Computers and printers break, as do windows, and sports equipment needs to be replaced, and staff needs to be paid, and this is a fun family event which helps with that task. Board members gather at 9:30 AM at a local park whose attraction is a stream that runs through it. Hip boots afoot, one member constructs a wooden chute to direct rubber ducks traversing the shallow stream in a neat row. Other members set up a tent, tables, games, and grill all to entertain families for an annual duck race.

The Board members are amateurs at fundraising events, but each works enthusiastically to make the activity a money maker and a fun family day. Last year, the director was called away suddenly, and the volunteers did their best to ensure that the event would run smoothly. Unfortunately, the chute in the stream was too broad, and the ducks raced down the stream and through the opening at a rapid rate, Too rapid, in fact to determine which duck came in first, second and third. The state gambling association sent an inspector who wrote a letter detailing many mis- steps in the day. We were to correct the mistakes for the race this year.

So for the duck race this year, we brought in an enthusiastic carpenter who constructed a wonderful device in mid- stream that corralled the rubber ducks in a V and allowed only one at a time to pass through its entrance. Our “Start” and “ Stop” signs were bold black on white material and hung smartly. The state permit was properly displayed on the tent, and we brought two large trash cans. Ducks were neatly labeled with readable black numbers on plastic as tickets were sold. Ticket stubs were properly stacked numerically. The race began promptly at 1 PM as promised. Two of us dumped 467 ducks over a bridge into the fast moving water, and our town council member, followed the ducks downstream with a megaphone, announcing the ducks’ progress with humor and wit. Children and their parents cheered the bobbing plastic ducks from the bank of the stream. It all seemed so perfect- all of our ducks were in a row, so to speak. The state gambling inspector looked pleased.

After my duck dump, my next assignment was to run to the finish line and capture the ducks into a prepared case with numbered slots. We could then determine the first ten places in the race and award the winners. Plan B was to have our ‘duck collector midstream in hip boots capturing the ducks as they made their way through the finish line opening. He was to yell out the number of each duck as it approached the finish line then put it in its proper slot in the container. As the ducks raced through the ‘gate,’ they were placed one at a time into a crate with slots, and when the slots, one through ten were filled, the crate was given to me. I ran to the tent to declare winners and post them. It was as I approached the tent, I realized why my fellow board member failed to call out the numbers of the winning ducks. The ducks had no numbers. The numbers had dissolved in the water on their trip down the stream.

The excited participants followed me to the tent awaiting the announcement of the winners, but the director and fellow board members were in shock. We had the winning ducks, but knew not their numbers nor who had bought them. There was only one thing to do. Admit the problem, renumber the ducks and rerun the race. And we did. As I dumped the plastic ducks over the bridge and into the stream once again, I reminded participants of their real luck. “When in life do you ever get a second chance to win?” I shouted to the crowd. And the state inspector simply smiled.

The "F" word

2006-04-04T07:50:00.000-05:00

My advice for twenty/thirty-something women searching for a soulmate, partner, life-long friend, husband is very simple. It involves the "F" word. Let me elaborate. Years ago, older women urged young women that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I heard it often. I don't think it was true then and I don't think it's true now. Sure, men enjoy a great meal, but there are restaurants in every town, on every corner and lots of choices. And I do think the male species would prefer to pay for a meal, rather than sit and wait for a presentation of one knowing the effort involved, and having to formulate the perfect and expected complement to the chef. Too much work for him.

In my opinion what really attracts a man is pure and unadulterated Flattery. (Oh did you think I was referring to the 'other F' word? ) It's time for women to use what men have used for ages: "the Line."
Try one of these out to see how it works:

"How ever did you accomplish that?"

" You have such brilliant ideas."

" What skill you have."

" You know that subject better than I, would you help me with that?"

" Could I ask for your advice on this? I know you'll know the best way."

" How creative you are."

You of course can formulate your own 'Ladies' Line." Just begin your conversation with "You" and keep it positive. A vacant gaze won't hurt either.

Asking for help

2006-03-17T10:30:00.000-05:00

What does the Fairy Blogmother hope to accomplish from these writings?
Just to provide some thought provoking advice that wasn't asked for and isn't commented on, but might just get tucked away in the reader's subconscious thoughts to be retrieved at a later time when needed.

The Fairy Blogmother grew up in the suburbs in the 1950's in a loving home, but one that was often full of turmoil that an alcoholic parent can produce at the tip of a glass. Was it the times or the turmoil or both that fostered the practice of handling problems alone? "Don't ask for help" was my modus of operandi. Other things might be more important.
Thus, faulty thinking that one should handle life's annoyances and hardships alone, fostered by a parochial school education that praised total self- reliance and martyrdom, continued to guide the Blogmother's behavior well into middle age. "Don't ask for help until you're going down for the count" was my motto.

But the big 'aah of relief' moment came not too long ago, and the value of asking for help was rewarding, so the Fairy Blogmother is moved to share the story with the world at large.

The background: Traveling south to escape the snow and winter cold, the Fairy Blogmother arrived on the east coast of Florida with the her big brown dog and her friend and spouse, the wonderful if sometimes grumpy Fairy Blogfather. It's not easy to find a place that allows 85 pound dogs to stay with their owners in beach condo's or apartments. Fortunately, this trio of travelers found 'a garden of Eden' on North Hutchinson Beach, Florida . We arrived only months before the magical place is to meet its demise by the blade of a bulldozer. Ah, progress and increased city taxes will not allow a older charming treasure to stand in the way . The little group of resort apartments will be sold and removed so that tall concrete cells full of self-important people can take its place.

Imagine 10 acres of fields with palm trees and other exotic specimens. One area to the east leads across A1A and to a private boardwalk and an entrance to an Atlantic ocean beach. On the other west side of the road, the field leads to the Indian River and a small state owned island that is a sanctuary for animals and humans. This land, Jack Island has a remote four mile walkway around its perimeter and allows bikes, feet and paws during the daylight hours only.

Within the property (called Bauman's Resort Apartments) sit ten modest little one -bedroom apartments, clean and tidy with tiled floors and wooden ceilings. These relics from the early 50's have been cared for by an quiet older woman for the past fifty years, and her manager, a kind and beefy transplant from Michigan. The owner simply loves her pets and people who love theirs. The manager loves the warmth of Florida and the job that allows him to body surf in the Atlantic each afternoon.

The guests who arrive here for their vacation are usually attracted, not by the stark grey concrete structures, but by the need for a pet- friendly place to stay. And stay they do. One couple arrived eight years ago and never left. Another has returned each winter in February and March for the past 16 years. But it's not really about the people here, dogs rule. There in the center of the interior courtyard is a tiled table with a heated water supply just for bathing the pets. The pedestal commands attention of all in the surrounding the apartments in the small complex, and it is here that the animals enjoy an afternoon of primping in the Florida sunshine- with audience. What could be better?

The dogs even attend Happy Hour each evening from 5 to 6 PM with their owners . Leashes not required. I think the Big Brown Dog would go to the gazebo room without the Blogmother if she had to, just to enjoy the comraderie of man and beast and the ritual that ends each day here at Bauman's.

The repairs are progressing slowly at the other properties here on this barrier island after the hurricanes of the past two years. The area has begun to come back, but not to its grandeur of the past. The hurricanes that had broken the roof tiles and uprooted the trees also damaged the spirit of those who own those structures. The landlord here is a bit weary, I think, and may sell her land and apartments to a real estate mogel rather than relive the anguish of the past years trials as a new storm season advances.

So with her goal to exist until a buyer comes to her, repairs done here are those which are necessary. Mind you, when a guest leaves, the landlord and manager scrub the floor tiles and wash the linens, returning the apartment to a sparkling retreat for visitors. But any major changes or repairs have been halted. Thus the stone pathways of the past are cracked and in disarray, the fountain and pool is dry, and the front gardens remain barren for this season.

Knowing that only necessary repairs and upkeep are being done, I hesitated to ask for help when the shower drain began to back up in my apartment. Just a little inconvenience, I thought. I'll just pour some boiling water down the drain to clear it up. (That was the first and second day.) On day three I went to the store to buy draino. This back-up was cramping by bathing and lifestyle. On day four I made a wonderful spaghetti dish for dinner, only to enjoy it's bright red color a second time as it filled my shower stall after dinner. By breakfast, the red tide had receeded and the shower was available again. I tried to handle my drain's blockage problem for a week with little success. When one evening at Happy Hour the subject of drains came up and I mentioned my predicament to my fellow renters. They insisted that I tell the manager and ask for help. "She would be distraught to know that this was happening and that you might be unhappy," I was told. So I asked for her help. The next day the plumber arrived, the drain was cleared, and I felt rather foolish for having lived for a week at the mercy of a clogged drain.

At long last I learned the lesson that should have come earlier in life. It is easier to ask for help as soon as you need it and it's good to do so. Living with a problem forces you to expend far too much energy needlessly, and creates frowns on your face where none need to develop. So with the experience of the past few weeks the Fairy Blogmother's new mottos are: Ask and you shall receive for allowing others to help you is a gift for them as well as yourself. And I shall from now on.

Perfection: overrated, underappreciated

2006-02-15T08:48:00.000-05:00

Mothers will never tell you this, but some much- praised personality qualities are over-rated; so the Fairy Blogmother must set you straight. One such quality is the highly-rated but never attainable: "Perfection." Parents and teachers are quick to encourage children to aim for it. "How perfect." "Try to be perfect." "Almost, but not quite perfect." Ever hear those utterings? They're probably the most frustration -producing words ever received. But ever hear the flip side? "Oh, isn't she just so perfect?" "Mr. Perfect makes us all look bad." "Isn't it just sickening how he's always perfect."

Of course those who achieve any measure of "it" are often resented and scorned by their peers while their superiors heap on the praise. I think it's safe to say that people in general admire a job done well, but in reality they love to see others stumble a bit. It makes one seem all the more human and thus easy to relate to.

The Fairy Blogmother advice then is don't ever try to attain perfection in anything you do. Do a good job, enjoy what you're doing, you can even try to do better, and you can work at something with passion. But as soon as you find the word: "best" creeping into your thoughts, take a U-turn. Either that or you'll find it very lonely on that pedestal you've climbed onto.

The Power of a woman

2006-01-24T18:51:00.000-05:00

"Stressful times result in hardier boys "
Staff and wire reports and I copied from my Yahoo Home Page. The report says:
"Male children born in stressful times enjoy an advantage their whole lives, living longer, on average, than males born in times of peace and prosperity, researchers find.
Based on an analysis of a database of birth, life and death information dating back to 1751, the study adds to earlier findings that pregnant women are more likely to miscarry male fetises than females fetises during times of stress.
Together, the research indicates that the tendency to miscarry males has a culling effect which makes populations "hardier because they lost the weak ones earlier," says Ralph Catalano of the School of Public Health at the University of California, Berkeley.
The findings, reported in this week's Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, solidify what biologists have long known all along: that males are the weaker sex, Catalano said. "Compared to men, (women) are biological fortresses."

So all along it is as I thought. Women are the powerhouses.

And there are good and bad years for children- especially males. Just like wine. As a teacher, I witnessed this phenomenon for years, as we remarked from one teacher to another about an incoming class. And it's women who have the upper hand and control it all.

Why and when then did women surrender their power to men? Was it in the nuturing and gathering stage? Did man flatter her into thinking that she alone could care for the household and that he would better serve the family unit by being spokesman and control for them? (Maybe the bow and arrow had something to do with it?) And then did man believe his own thoughts, and truly think that he was superior to his mate? Or was he fearful of his status and standing in the cave? Was that when he was able to convince woman to take the second place? And why has it continued from caveman times to the 21st century workplace?

Why do many men still bristle at a mate's suggestion, even when it's logical and good? I guess it's the male who doesn't truly understand the the gains that come from working as a team. And why do some intelligent women turn into needy, subservient beings in the company of preening males? Is it due to ages of conditioning or a result of recent elementary school experiences? Is it simply so terrifying for children to be the last one chosen for the classroom team? Conform or be excluded. Does that mark our behavior of female submission and male bravado throughout our lives?

Forget about one sex being more dominant, how about equal footing for the stronger and truly controlling sex? Isn't it time?

America's Dumbing Down

2005-10-16T10:01:00.000-05:00

Foreign affairs columnist, author and Pulitzer Prize winner, Thomas Friedman recently suggested that one of the reasons for the trend of outsourcing jobs abroad might be the search for brighter workers. He cites this opinion after sharing these statistics noting students pursuing undergraduate science and engineering degrees in four countries: Japan: 66% China: 59% Germany: 36%, and U.S.: 32%. Mr. Friedman offered some interesting solutions to our dismal record of student ambition/achievement as it will relate to future prosperity of our country. (NY Times, Oct 14) They are simple and workable. One such is: to encourage students to pursue studies in math and the sciences we need to find and reward teachers and future teachers with, of course, money. It’s the American way.

But where do we find these capable young people willing and able to meet the intellectual challenges of math and science? Do we have students who are bright enough? Motivated enough? The problem may be in the American male’s search for companionship among the ‘arm candy’ set, brought on by mindless TV, People Magazine and a superficial society. Are our young people dumbing down generation by generation?

Quite honestly, I do wonder if years of media messages and peer pressure have convinced many a young man to seek the company of a supportive and adoring young woman who will serve as a trophy. Easy? Well, easy only if the spouse to be is less intelligent than the male. A less intelligent mate will assure the male a superior status in the partnership and less of a challenge, thus the chance for a more comfortable and easy life for him, and ah- superficial. Unfortunately the secondary effect, I believe is a gradual dumbing down and lazy-ing up of the future offspring, as life becomes ‘survival of the witless’ meets desperate housewives.

On CBS’s Sixty Minutes earlier this year, several female Harvard Business School graduates spoke about their failure to find spouses, and lamented that their Ivy League degree was a liability. Some of these accomplished women refer to their degree as the “H Bomb.” They spoke about meeting men, and in conversation if asked where they attended college, were hesitant to mention the “H” word. They confessed that people physically backed away from them as if in disgust. The opposite is true if you’re an Ivy League man- you have immediate admirers. Why is this so? The ‘meal ticket latch- on- it’s –the- easy- way effect,’ is at work, no doubt.

Shouldn’t our child-bearing, intelligent and ambitious women be as great an asset as the males in our society? Too bad too few people have figured that out yet. Perhaps these wonderful women should consider outsourcing themselves from the superficial groups with whom they associate?

Too Much Time on Your Hands

2005-10-14T17:35:00.000-05:00

When I was in grade school, my first grade teacher, Sister Margaret Ann was fond of trite sayings. One of her favorites was, “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.” Being young and impressionable, and also fearful, the Fairy Blogmother took the advice to heart and began a lifetime of being busy.

My broken ankle has given me lots of free and idle time to fill, but as is my habit and early training, I do keep moving. Thus far, I have managed to make a buttermilk pie (NY Times recipe), rearrange some dining room furniture, move a rug, prepare two huge fruit trays for the local Boys and Girls Club fundraiser, wash windows, shop the racks at T J Maxx, re-do my phone book, wash the kitchen floor, repot some plants etc. I have been amazed what one can accomplish single-handedly and single-footed. But ultimately, the foot with the broken ankle swells in the cast and I make wheel tracks for the sofa and the remote...

My TV viewing preference has always been news shows, but because I am isolated these days, I have become a true news junkie. If one can’t get out, let the outside in: floods, earthquakes, plagues, politics, and scandals. Bring them on.

There is real entertainment in the news, you know, and I always look for that which amuses me, so I cherish the ridiculous. I find that some news anchors have become more concerned about their persona than the content of their broadcast, and thus sometimes fall into the trap of bearer of the dumb question. (Whenever will reporters and their producers learn that what is said is more important than what is worn?) So I have made it my quest to find the dumb comment of the day. Thus this morning, I heard a prize winning stupid question .MSNBC’s Natalie Morales was interviewing the new parent, Michelle Duggar who recently gave birth to her 16th child. She asked, “Other parents want to know, do you and your husband ever manage to have time alone?”

Had I been the recipient of that question, I’d have commented, “Oh, at least 16 times.”
The Fairy Blogmother’s son was quick to point out that perhaps I needed more projects and might spend less time as a news viewer. Maybe Sister Margaret Ann was right, or maybe Sister Margaret Ann should come out of retirement and talk to news groups?

The Return of Glenda Chewning

2005-10-14T10:12:00.000-05:00

Not since I left parochial school years ago have I thought about Glenda Chewning, but I conjured her up after some forty years this week. Glenda was a good listener in the group of some sixty or more ‘boomer children’ in my class in the suburbs of D C. Her second grade face is etched in my memory still, as I recall the day she listened to my diatribe on submission to another’s will and the merits of walking home from school alone. Not alone, really as there was a group of four seven-year olds who made the trek three blocks from school to home each day. Even then, I must have valued my independence for I was angry at the intruding Mrs. Strocchio, Jimmy’s mom. She insisted on meeting our group especially on rainy days, and putting us in her car- no seat belts in those days, for a two minute drive home.

“We need to walk home alone, without parents. After all, what would happen in an emergency? Shouldn’t our gang be able to get home in the rain, snow or whatever on our own?” I remember spouting to Glenda. She looked at me and nodded and smiled in agreement. That was three seconds before Mrs. Strocchio, umbrella in hand, opened the car door and ordered our little band of loose-toothed kids into her back seat. Obediently, I followed my friends. And that was how it was those days. Children followed the instructions of adults without question, and those children felt resentful of that fact. (No wonder the youth revolted in the ‘60’s.). Looking out of the car window that day, I saw Glenda’s smile turn into a wider grin as she waited for her own ride. I was angry at myself for not holding my ground against the neighborhood’s most protective mother. Glenda’s smile made me feel foolish and angry at myself for having “given in.”

So was it the massive rains that brought forth Glenda’s memory, or was it my failure to fire the doctor that I’ve never seen? “Go with your gut feelings” and “Don’t be rash,” were the two conflicting voices in my mind recently. “Write him a letter and tell him how you feel about his failure to see you,” my friends advised, and I did. It was a good letter, in fact, I even thought it was of ‘nose hair singeing quality.” “Wait for a response,” my friends and husband advised, and I did. So the office business manager called me to ‘almost apologize’ for the doctor’s inattentiveness (absence actually- seven weeks in a wheel chair and I still haven’t seen or heard from him). “He is very caring,” Laura, the manager exclaimed. “He will definitely see you at your eighth week visit.”

And I succumbed. I agreed to keep my appointment, but I felt the presence of Glenda at my reluctance to seek another doctor. So The Blogmother’s advice is to all is “go with your gut.” You can seek outside advice, but in the end, you always have to do what you feel is best for you, or be prepared to suffer the internal anger that will most certainly follow.

Profound Words from a Kindergartener

2005-10-05T21:59:00.000-05:00

When Dougie uttered the words, “Sorry don’t mean nothing, put your head down here.” I only thought it was amusing and a bit fresh. Now I understand how profound his statement really was. Such wisdom from a five year old, and no wonder, at that age children aren’t used to filtering their words when expressing their feelings. Dougie had just gotten his head smacked by a rebounding front seat as he bounced into the back seat of my car. You see, I used to drive mother and son to school each morning, and his pre-occupied mother didn’t watch his progress into the back seat that day, and offered a quick, “Sorry,” after the bump.

As I am now in my seventh week on crutches and in wheel chair, I truly appreciate the wisdom of the Dougster. He was tired of being rushed into back seats, and knew that his mom wouldn’t truly understand how he felt until she too felt the seat hit her head. I am also weary of being rushed and rushed by. Healthy two- footed adults hurry past me, and I imagine they must be thrilled to get to the line, in the door, and to the shelf first. They obviously have a real advantage over the one-footed human. They see me and know that I can be beaten. Rare is the individual who will open the door, lift a product from a top shelf at the store, or help guide me through an aisle at the checkout. And when someone does offer their help, I thank them profusely, as I am truly thankful for their kindness.

And I guess those who ignore people who are physically compromised will not understand the frustration the handicapped feel until they too, are compromised. Experience is truly the best teacher. Dougie knew and called it.

The Squeaky Wheel

2005-09-26T14:29:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother was feeling rather guilty about all the venting she's been doing about her broken ankle and ensuing medical treatment, especially because there are many people experiencing life-altering hardships these days. But with this mornings' New York Times, Metro section came absolution for me.
An article by Joyce Purnick touted the benefits of the complaint. "Sometimes complaining is a civic duty," she advised. In New York City, citizens complain about pot holes and such, and they get fixed. In New Orleans, citizens didn't complain about housing conditions and the inadequate levee system because they felt that they wouldn't be heard, and they weren't.
So the Fairy Blogmother advises you to stand up for your rights, speak about injustices, and complain until someone to listens to you and does something about your complaints. What was it your grandmother used to say? "The squeaky wheel gets the oil."

Medical Care Concerns 2005

2005-09-23T10:07:00.000-05:00

Medical Care in the ‘Burbs in 2005

I don’t have physician phobia or physician aversion and don’t want to partake in an unjustified doctor bashing, but I have real criticism of the orthopedic doctor I’m seeing for my broken ankle, and I like to hear other opinions about my treatment. Maybe I’m over-reacting?

Understand that the Fairy Blogmother lives in a small city, although ‘the powers that be ‘ prefer to call it a town as it gives its occupants a feeling of quaintness and safety. There are about 45,000 citizens in our insular township, one or two good restaurants, a multitude of café type eateries and fast food and chain restaurants, one movie theater, a Curves and two or three other fitness centers, a Wal-Mart, a Home Depot, several grocery stores, a book store, two high and middle schools, nine elementary schools, and even a prestigious private prep school. The Town is said to hold the record for the most liquor stores for its size. (Guinness Book of Records.) We have about 50 doctors listed in the yellow pages. In times of emergency illness, our citizens use the community hospital in the adjacent town, or they travel to one of two bigger cities, each within one half hour’s drive. Consider the scene set. We are essentially the ‘burbs.

At 7:15 AM on a Saturday morning in August I slipped down a small hill near my home and injured my ankle. In thinking about my medical care, I choose the community hospital with a good reputation for care, and the one in which I would most likely receive a speedier response than I might expect in the big city ER. Maybe the injury was a simple sprain, I reasoned while trying to decide in which direction to drive for help that morning. “Less crowded in the E R, easier parking,” my husband said, and thus, the small town mentality took over and we drove 10 minutes north. And no, the hospital was not the problem. I was seen quickly, treated respectfully, x-rayed, fitted with splint and crutches, and on my way out of the sliding ER door before 9 AM. I was given two Rx’s for pain and the name of the orthopedic doctor who was ‘on duty’ at the hospital that morning. with instructions to call him by Monday for an appointment. The doctor was not at the hospital. I saw the PA in the ER. I guess my ankle break was rather ordinary. I considered that a positive thing.

I was given an appointment for the following Wednesday and ordered off the injured foot until I met with the doctor. I obeyed the instructions, and checked the internet to learn how to better navigate stairs while on crutches. At the appointed date and time, I arrived at the orthopedic office on my crutches and waited by the receptionist’s desk while she spoke on the phone for 5 minutes. It seemed like 20. (Not even a nod!) I was surprised and a bit annoyed at the insensitivity, and wondered if this was the normal orthopedic greeting. (Encourage the crippled to fend for themselves; the build character sort of idea?) A little sensitivity training including a day on crutches might work wonders with the staff here. But eventually I was told to go around the corner to a waiting room, and after a brief wait, the PA introduced herself and brought me a wheel chair to make my trip to the treatment room. ( A good sign.) Once seated on the examining table, she looked at my hospital x-rays, and the ones taken there in the office. She began to fit me with a plaster cast. “Will I be seeing the doctor?” I asked. “Not unless you go to the funeral,” she replied curtly. (‘How to talk to patient’ training might be fit into the sensitivity training class as well.) The PA then went into a defensive lecture listing her training and history in the practice. Had I transgressed a boundary? I understood the Orthopedist absence, my admonishment, and made a second appointment for three weeks time. Surely I would see the doctor then, and most likely he would call to discuss my treatment beforehand. After all, this was the orthopedic specialist with the best reputation in our town. Alas, I expected too much - No call. Why even my dentist and the dog’s vet call after a procedure. Perhaps they have more business savvy, are more caring, and are less arrogant.

I arrived ten minutes early for my second appointment three weeks later. (It is difficult to estimate the amount of time one needs to crutch or wheel in and out of buildings My husband, not a patient waiter, accompanied me, and we both knew we were in for quite a wait as the patient room was over-flowing with people. “Double booking” is what they call it in airline vernacular. (I fantasized inciting a mutiny with my fellow patients.) I had my own wheeled seat, but my husband was left with the last seat in the place- the child’s stool. He squatted there by the table with the blocks and next to a double bounded woman whose two shoulders had been dislocated in a seizure. (I do make conversation with everyone.) I didn’t have it so bad after all, At least I could hop and feet myself, so I waited my turn patiently as was expected, no doubt.

Carol wheeled me into the treatment room an hour and twenty minutes later. (Maybe triple booking is at work here?) This time another x-ray was taken to determine my progress or lack thereof. “Ah, bone is beginning to heal,” was the Nurse Practioner‘s assessment. I had questions: “When will I see the doctor? Will I be getting a walking cast before my good knee gives out completely due to stress of doing the one-legged stance? Both questions were given short shrift. . Not today was the answer to both of my queries. At that point I was unsure if I was more upset about the doctor’s absence and my demotion from PA to Nurse, or the fact that I would have to hop around on one foot still. “Does the doctor look at these x-rays you’ve taken? I questioned Carol.
“Oh, yes. He’s here, but in with another patient. I have been trained by him and I know exactly what to do,” Carol replied. (That seemed to be the company line.) I think I was speechless. Surely, he’ll pop in and ask if I had any concerns I thought... It’s not only a professional way to do business, but just common sense for him to reassure a new and as yet unseen patient on his billing list. Hey what about the Hippocratic Oath he took?

But I was disappointed once again. Dr. Axtmayer never came into the examining room, or hallway, or waiting room. I wouldn’t know this guy if I bumped into him on his favorite golf course.

Nurse Carol removed one cast, and gave me a removable one. I think she sensed my frustration, or perhaps she knew how seriously I needed to shower without plastic bags. Carol then told me to make an appointment for 4 weeks time. “No weight on the foot at all until we see you,” were her parting words. “What about the $80 blue boot from the last appointment? Can you give it to another patient- one who might not have insurance?” my husband asked. No verbal reply was forthcoming, but the eye rolling said it all: It’s all about the money, dear, I assumed from the non-verbal gesture.

Four more weeks???? I couldn’t believe it. “Here’s a band, wrap it around your other knee from bottom to top as a brace. See you in a month,” Nurse Carol said on her way out of the room.

The busy receptionist gave me an appointment for five weeks time. I tried to insist on a change, but was assured that the doctor would not be in during the time I requested if I changed the date. “So I will see the doctor next time? “ I asked. “Oh, you’ll see the doctor while you’re under his care, but you’re scheduled to see the PA, but she and the doctor often switch between patients. Don’t worry, you won’t be released from the office care for a while,” was her comment. Was this the bait and switch technique? I’m still in shock. I should have asked if I would be billed at a discount rate.

And this, I think, is what is wrong with the American medical system. Patients caught between greedy doctors and controlling insurance companies, and protected by our elected officials who receive hefty donations from both groups. Lawmakers won’t take sides yet they fret and warn patient/consumers of the dangers of socialized medicine. “You’ll have to wait too long for service. You’ll rarely see a doctor,” they warn us. How does that differ from my present experience, I wonder. Is this why people pay a fee over and above insurance payments to guarantee the availability of a certified physician when they need one? Will decent health care soon be limited to the wealthy only? Or will insurers, doctors, drug companies, and legislators all come to their senses as more operations and medical care is out-sourced to foreign countries?

Am I sorry that I didn’t brave the wait at a big city hospital? Yes

Would my care have been better or more professional? Maybe, maybe not.

Have I grown more cynical about medical care? Be assured of that.

Will I bad-mouth this local doctor? You bet I will- loud and long.

Is current medical care all about the money? It sure seems so. The more patients seen, the more money on the bottom line for doctor and insurers.

Do I have questions I’d ask before making an appointment with any doctor in the future? You bet. And the first two would be:

1. Is it your custom to actually examine and meet with your patients at scheduled appointments, or do you use PA’s and Nurse Practioners and excuses?

2. How many children do you have in college?

What do you think?

How goes the battle of the broken ankle?

2005-09-21T08:59:00.000-05:00

How goes the battle?

Well, the pillow plumping is finis, over, kaput. Family members can keep up the good works only so long, and anything past three weeks is too long. How unfortunate that after three weeks on crutches to protect a broken ankle, the other leg begins to yell, “What about me, Randy?” “Share that cold pack of peas and corn with me,” screams the right knee to the left ankle. " I need an icing down, too.” And just when the going gets tougher, the toughs slip and slide out of sight. Burnout big time comes for family members. And the funny thing is, the patient becomes lots less patient and irritability comes in like gang busters on the heels of frustration. (Pun intended.) Anger simply bounces around the place from caretaker to patient and back again. In short: it gets ugly.

Thank goodness for great friends. They continue to call, especially those who too, have worn the big blue boot, and rode the four-wheeled chariot with foot pads. The mailman brought a box yesterday which the big brown dog sniffed with great pleasure. Inside were two fruitcake tins filled to the brim with homemade chocolate chip cookies, sent from some 1000 miles away, and simply the answer to a family’s prayer for deliverance from the B A. (Sometimes referred to as ‘Bad Atmosphere,’ ‘ Bummed Attitude,’ or more commonly ‘the Black Ass.’)

The packing of those cookies itself was a thing of beauty. No doubt “Wrapper Bob” had received such a gift in long ago days, and remembered the taste of the morsels eaten from tin to tongue, and thus had carefully packaged these beauties so well that not one among them was broken. The gift could have been gold, frankincense and myrrh, or so it seemed to me. It was the pillow plumping that I had been missing and had been seeking these past few days. And it arrived just in time to quell the household anger in the form of the edible delight. The diet be damned, the cookies were for the soul as well as the body.

The only directions I received with the kind gift from the sender, was a promise to give the big brown dog a cookie now and again, and to share with the caretakers. I do both faithfully, especially sharing a piece of each cookie with the dog who has yet to leave my side in three weeks time. Woman’s best friend she has proved to be. And the caretakers need to come to the sight of the cache to claim their share, and I snare them into a “Will you bring me…?” Brilliant!

So: Be good to the disabled, even those for whom the condition is only temporary. For in the end, they will be as faithful as the big brown dog, and will never forget the kindness. I’m not sure about the leg licks though, that’s not in my repertoire.

Wheelchair Primer

2005-09-15T19:50:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother, having experienced three weeks as a one-footed person, has some suggestions for wheelchair use she'd like to share.

Quite honestly, I was shocked at people's insensitivity towards those who use walkers, wheelchairs or crutches. Even in the orthopedic office, I was amazed to be left leaning on crutches for more than five minutes while the receptionist chatted on and on with a patient or family member.

It is difficult to navigate public places without the use of two good feet. People out there: where is your sensitivity? Your patience?

Fairy Blogmother's Wheelchair Primer:

Rule #1: Don't assume that the rider will know the ins and outs of chair use at first seating. Read through these rules before you or a friend takes to the movable chair for the first time.

Rule #2: Always, always put the brakes on the wheels before doing a dismount or a sit-down. Failure to do thus will most likely lead to the dangerous slide and bounce and possibly further injuries. These brakes can be found near the top of the wheels and are hand manipulated.

Rule #3: Never assume that walkers will give you the right of way or any other such courtesy like going to the front of the line. For some unknown reason, many healthy people seem resentful of those who are in a wheelchair.

Rule #4: Be prepared to be talked down to, and I'm talking both literally and figuratively. When seated in a wheelchair, you sit lower than most standers, even those who are vertically challenged. For some strange reason, taller stance empowers people and brings on an air of arrogance in some cases condescending conversation.

Rule #5: Other people, not "wheel-ees", seem to think that because you are unable to walk, you are unable to hear, talk, and respond to questions. I am amazed at the number of people who will direct their questions not to me but to a walking companion. ( This happened to me in the Motor Vehicle Dept while applying for a handicap sticker: "Does 'she' have a license?")

Rule #6: Give yourself ample time to get into the handicapped accessible rest rooms in public places. It takes a great deal of coordination to navigate the wheel chair through the restroom door, then into the cubicle. Next the wheel-ee must get up on one foot and onto the toilet seat. Plan well ahead so that you have ample time. Rushing can be disastrous.

Rule #7: Don't allow someone who has a history of road rage while driving a car permission to push you while seated in the wheel chair. You might just experience velocity similar to a speeding bullet. Watch your feet and hands when being pushed- keep them away from the wheel spokes and floor- more broken bones you don't need.

Rule #8: Many stores have complementary wheel chairs for disabled customer use. I can assure you that the job of charging the batteries on these motorized chairs is left to the lowest man on the payroll. Although easier than gathering the empty carts from the parking lot, for some reason, the clerks don't like to plug in the chairs. More often than not, the cart will run out of juice just when you reach the far end of the store. That will bring forth an "Oh shit" moment. The store with the best record for charging the chairs, (and I wince when I say it) is: Wal-Mart. The senior greeter at the front door is in charge of this function and he takes his job seriously. Hire more seniors is my new motto.

Rule #9: It is wise to carry a cell phone with you at all times. If you don't have one, a whistle on a string around your neck is just as effective and possibly more so, A sharp blow will bring immediate attention inside and outside your home. It is an excellent tool for leveling the playing field between the wheel-ee and the stand-ee.

Rule # 10: If or when you no longer need to live and travel by the wheel, read through the above 9 suggestions once again, and show some respect and kindness to those you meet in a wheel chair.

From Spot's Point of View

2005-09-15T16:37:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother's broken bone has curtailed more than her daily doings. As a matter of fact, an illness or accident upsets the entire family, even the favorite pooch. So distressed was Lucy at her masters' fall, she felt the need to express her feelings via the Blogmother's brother. They spoke on the phone and through a series of barks and whines, the Optomist translated and sent along the following:

FROM SPOT’S POINT OF VIEW….

- A guest blog entry from “The Optimist” aka the Fairy Blogmother’s brother.

Hello, my name is Lucy, and I’m a large chocolate Labrador retriever. I’m an adult dog with a puppy’s spirit. The Fairy Blogmother is my best friend. We have gone for long walks almost every day since I was born. But she has broken her ankle and I’m helping her out by writing her blog for her. I’ve never done this before, but she tells me it’s not difficult .The way I figure it, a blog is an electronic form of fire hydrant sniffing.

I had thought of using this opportunity as a forum for an anti-human rant, but my better nature thought I’d go for some interspecies understanding. After all, we’re all creatures on this small planet, and if we remove some of our misunderstandings, we’ll all live on a higher plane.

I guess we dogs could work on improving our patience a bit, and you people could spring for a sprinkling of ground chuck on top of our Kibbles, and maybe a little scratch behind our ears, now and then. And another thing: due to our anatomy, we have a disparity in walking speeds. As we have twice as many legs as you have, we are forced to walk an an impossibly slow crawl to keep at an even pace with you while we’re on the leash. And while I’m on the subject of legs, you’d think with only two legs, you could keep them from getting tangled up and falling and breaking bones and such.

I don’t understand the obsession that people have with dog poop. When I’m on a walk and I drop a load, it is quickly picked up in a baggie and put in to a larger plastic bag. What is that about? I’ve talked with other dogs who report the same human behavior and we’re stumped. One dog even suggested that it as a ‘fear factor’ type of ritual. However, I refuse to believe that. It turns my stomach. Well, whatever you do with those plastic bags, enjoy.

Another thing that we canines need clarification on: I’ve noticed lately that the traffic is growing worse every day. It also seems that many of the nice old fields and woods where I used to chase rabbits have sprouted cheesy town houses and other ugly developments. This can only mean that humans are galloping toward over-population. I think you folks should contemplate the words of your great prophet, Bob Barker, and get yourself spayed or neutered.

Well, that’s all I have on my mind now. Please keep a prayer in your heart for the Fairy Blogmother’s quick recovery. I sure do miss our daily walks and chasing the tennis balls in the back yard.
Thanks, Lucy

Katrina-gate

2005-09-13T19:10:00.000-05:00

The Blogmother's questions to ponder about the recent debacle in New Orleans, and nearby areas in Mississippi, Louisiana, and Alabama are these:

Should the American people accept an investigative panel to be appointed by the very administration who failed to act in a timely manner to save people and property in the storm called Katrina? (Is it wise to put the fox in charge of the hen house?)

Should we insists that the money that might be used on a panel be put into funds for feeding, clothing, sheltering, and relocating the people displaced by the storm and helping them as they see fit in their time of need ? Should that be done before anyone tries to assess blame?

Should the 'friends of George' be allowed to benefit from the tragedy by being given lucrative no bid contracts to clean up and rebuild the area?

Wouldn't it make more sense to give the local people the contracts? Don't they need the work and money? Don't they know the area better than outsiders?

Are most Americans so gullible or so stupid as to believe that photo ops of our president on the back of a truck touring the flooded regions, and shaking hands with survivors at a shelter are proof of a caring and motivated leader? ( If so, is the Brooklyn Bridge still up for sale?)

We might assume our president learned his empathetic skills at his mother's knees (having heard her statements at the Houston Astrodome last weekend), but where did he learn his administrative skills? Was he hanging out at street corners in Boston or at a used car sales office instead of participating in the classes at Harvard Business School?

When a person continues to make poor decisions over and over and over again, can we assume that he shows poor judgement or perhaps he errs because he is afraid to make a decisions for fear of upsetting his politcal supporters?

Isn't the president supposed to look out for the interest of all of the people in our country, not just those who believe as he does ?

Perhaps the American people should tell him?

SPIN

2005-09-05T18:22:00.000-05:00

SPIN
(n) slant or bias; (antonym: honesty and truth)

-Can be used synonymously as the term which describes the substance most often found in cow pastures among the blades of grass- often covering them.

-The ultimate goal of which is to distort the truth and confuse those who are spinned so that the spin-ee appears in a more positive light to others.

Did you ever play “Pin the tail on the donkey” as a child at a birthday party? Do you remember the dizzy feeling after being ‘spinned’ and blindfolded and pushed towards an invisible target? Well, the Fairy Blogmother warns you to be aware of the spin around you. Don’t be gullible and taken in by distortionists. They abound in society. You find them everywhere- people use spin in sports, in schools, at work, at bars, in the media, in government, and especially in political circles.

You can easily identify talk as SPIN when the speaker, or”spin-ee, ”chooses any or all of these techniques:

-The speaker may raise his/her voice in an attempt to emote sincerity, strength or simply to overcome his/her opponent.

-Often this loud speech is accompanied by a smile, or tears to connote actual feeling.

-Sometimes, a sideways cock of the head is used and it seems to signify: “You know what I mean!” (These manipulative techniques and body language signals are employed because the speaker learned that they were effective in third grade, and perceived by parents as “cute.” Why not continue to use them into adulthood?)

-Spin-ees’ answer few direct questions, and in fact ignore the directness of others, and turn away, usually with a grimace that shows irritation.

-Spin-ees’ rarely if ever admit guilt or take responsibility for any errors .

-Spin-ees’ always look for a helpless scape-goat, usually an underling, to place the blame in a crisis or when caught in an error or lie.

-A spin-ee always looks for support from the naïve among the crowd. He gets the support by acting as if the supporter is important and will be rewarded by being allowed to enter the spin-ee’s special clique.

-The spin-ee will insinuate that if you choose not to join with him and his faithful followers, you might be abandoned and certainly unpopular.

-When the spin-ee comes across someone who disagrees with his viewpoint, he/she will attack that person (if not directly, he/she will get someone in the posse to do it for him/her), but will not attack the person’s beliefs or ideas, and certainly never challenge this person to a debate.

If it sounds like ‘spin,” seems like ‘spin,” and smells like “spin,” walk away before you become a gullible supporter and empower a spin-ee who makes a fool out of you as he struts and smirks about in his self- absorbed sense of reality.

Touche'

2005-09-04T11:10:00.000-05:00

"One Upmanship" is a term I learned in the 1960's while sitting in a movie theater near the intersection of 18th and Rhode Island Ave in Northeast Washington, D C.

As the youngest and only female child in the family, I often went to the movies with my parents. From their point of view, it was cheaper and more educational to take me with them than to leave me with a sitter; and from mine, it was lots more entertaining. And after all, movies were milder then and I was most a most amiable tag-a-long.

My father was a true fan of the British comedy and loved the actor Terry Thomas. Terry was most discernible by the rather large gap between his front teeth, much like Lauren Hutton, model in the '70's. (There is something refreshing about imperfection, isn't there?)

"School for Scoundrels" was a classic black and white example of the Brit humor of the time. In the movie, the character was trained in the art of making his opponent look foolish, while he assumed a cavalier air. Using a variety of circumstances and games, our man Terry was transformed from a 'wuss' to polished gentleman, while forcing his opponent to be seen as an idiot.

I thought of the movie, Terry Thomas, and the art of 'one upmanship' this morning when I read of Fidel Castro's offer to send 1000 Cuban doctors to the hurricane-battered area of our country. And I did wonder if Fidel had a recent viewing of the movie, or is he simply a benevolent humanitarian? (Is Fidel mellowing?)

Either way, guess who looks like the fool, especially if he defers to his stalwart conservative base of supporters and rejects the offer? (Not only the New Orleans refugees are mired in mud, you know.)

The Fairy Blogmother's advice for Mr. Bush-- Take the high road and the extended helping hand- and do it graciously.

Not to Nag, but....

2005-09-03T12:13:00.000-05:00

It's what my two children say I do so well: remind, prompt, prod, rouse, and attempt to motivate. It's also why I have become the Fairy Blogmother. "Spread the wealth, share your insights, bug other people via the internet and a blog," my progeny advised me.

So: Have you sent a donation to those affected by Hurricane Katrina? Lots of ways to do it, and a check always works. In our community, we have several large trucks parked outside grocery stores, and the Salvation Army is collected goods of non-perishable kind to transport to the needy. No money, but some time? Ask if you can volunteer in the area, or in your own perhaps making calls to solicit donations.

And if you happen to be an animal lover with extra money, consider a second donation to the ASPCA in the New Orleans area. Many animals have been displaced and they too are in shock. First the people, but don't forget their pets either.

New Orleans needs your help

2005-09-02T12:04:00.000-05:00

The disaster that has befallen the city is horrific. It is difficult both to watch and not to watch the news coverage of so many people in shock and agony. And how sad that our government has been so slow to respond with help. The mayor of New Orleans, Ray Nagin, has said it best in an article I have just read on Yahoo:

"Nagin's interview Thursday night on WWL radio came as President Bush planned to visit Gulf Coast communities battered by Hurricane Katrina, a visit aimed at alleviating criticism that he engineered a too-little, too-late response.

Bush viewed the damage while flying over the region Wednesday en route to Washington after cutting short his Texas vacation by two days.

"They flew down here one time two days after the doggone event was over with TV cameras, AP reporters, all kind of goddamn — excuse my French everybody in America, but I am pissed," Nagin said.

Nagin said he told Bush in a recent conversation that "we had an incredible crisis here and that his flying over in Air Force One does not do it justice ... I have been all around this city and that I am very frustrated because we are not able to marshal resources and we are outmanned in just about every respect."

My hope is that everyone in America will find it in their hearts to give support to the homeless, hungry and suffering people recently affected by Hurricane Katrina.

Give money to your favorite trusted charity. Donate food, clothing, water, or shelter. But as Mr. Nagin implored in a most direct way, talking and observing won't help those in need in New Orleans- action will. So act.

The Fairy Blogmother? Why I plan to send a check directly to Mr. Nagin. He is the godfather of his city.

Crutch Attire

2005-08-28T13:34:00.000-05:00

What, you ask, especially if you're a 'virgin crutcher," do you wear with your new walking aids?

The Fairy Blogmother now has first-hand experience with that very question, and has these suggestions. Choose one, two, or as many as you find comfortable.

1. Sweatpants, capris or any such pants that will fit over a casted foot. Those with elastic waistbands are easy to slip on and off, though less fashionable. Color is up to you, but white will show spills, and black will show lint and hair of the dog/cat. Remember, if you have stairs, you will be taking them on your hindside.

2. That tacky touristy fanny pack is most useful for carrying pill bottles and pens and paper. (Everyone must have an old one of these hanging around.) Your hands will be busy with the crutch handgrips.

3. A cord with a whistle attached is most useful for getting family and friends' attention at a moments' notice. Who can resist the call of the wild one?

4. Add to the cord or add a chain with eyeglasses if being nearsightednes or farsightedness is a problem. Color coordination is not required at this time, as you probably won't care.

5. A multi-pocketed vest is a wonderful addition to the outfit as it holds all those items you regularly tote around and allows you to be a "hands-free zone."

6. A slide-on shoe for the foot NOT in the cast is nice, just make certain it isn't the same type of footwear you were wearing when you met the ground during your crippling incident. That is asking for trouble and could be considered masochistic. Note: It does not have to match the ugly blue boot-like covering you will be given (and charged big-time for) by the doctor.

7. Consider toenail polish for entertaining viewing of your toes.

8. For those speedy trips to the bathroom when the balancing act is most precarious, I mean try lowering yourself on the toilet while keeping one foot in the air, I can suggest "commando-style. (no underwear) It works, it's fast and easy, and hey, you probably won't be the one who is going to have to do all that wash right away anyway. Refrain from skirt wearing if you choose #8.

I welcome any other suggestions from readers, especially those who are members of the crutch club. I wonder if I can do a guest stint on 'Martha's' show to model and speak????

What a sense of humor

2005-08-28T12:56:00.000-05:00

After creation and the day of rest, I imagine God was looking for a bit of fun. Man must provide immeasurable hours of entertainment for Herself and the gallery packed in the heavens above as mere mortals travail the perils of the earthly kingdom. Ah-- the broken bone and how to deal with it. What a wickedly funny requirement as a consequence for being clumsy and falling, the necessity of walking on not two legs, but one for six weeks.

The Fairy Blogmother's experience on crutches/walker/wheelchair has allowed her look at things from quite a different perspective. In fact, I've now spent exactly seven days staring at my left toenails as I've been told to keep the left foot at a level with my nose. Almost sounds impossible if not downright disgusting, doesn't it?

The toes, I was told, must wiggle and remain pinkish through the yellow brusing. I guess this means they should be the color of the sky at twilight on a summer day? Those five toes and their attached foot must NOT for an instant touch solid for at least three weeks, and the punishment for any infraction is an extendended period of toe observation and the accompanying requisite balancing act.

But in addition to the this self-absorption time, I have time to observe the kindness, creativity, as well as the idiosyncracies of others. A great passive time and I'm loving it. I feel like I'm a cross between an infant and adolescent again, and this time, I'm going to enjoy both stages. But not enough to let the foot touch the floor for two more weeks.

Twisted: Tongue and Ankle

2005-08-20T18:09:00.000-05:00

"Slip-on velcro sandals meet slightly slick, sludgy slope, with a slide, a slip, and a slump."
Say it seven times, but don't try to reenact this tongue twister.

Yes, it's a double twist. The Fairy Blogmother fell down a hill this morning during her daily dog walk, and has discovered a new and more humbling experience than the 'morning scoop' -- the broken ankle, and it brings dependence with a capital "D."

When first I tried to pick myself up, I discovered I might have to remain on a muddy field with a dog licking my face for some time. But on second thought, I decided to seek another course of action, and managed to roll over onto my knees and push up. It wasn't too graceful, but it worked. Thank heavens for the recent weeks in the weight room at the gym. Not only were the exercises trimming the tush, but strengthening the arm muscles as well. I hobbled my way home with a gait reminiscent of William H. Macy in "The Cooler," and threw myself onto the sofa.

Well, I tried the usual denial route, but that only works under pain for just so long. With ice on the ankle, I managed to keep the swelling down to the size of a tennis ball for the first half hour. Then I had to admit to myself that whether it was a sprain or a break, a trip to the ER was in my immediate future. And having read the NY Times article on the sad state of waiting for medical care, I urged my spouse to take the trip earlier rather than later, when the hospital would be full of crying children. (Not his favorite.)

At the local hospital, it was my grand fortune to find an empty waiting room, a nurse with a bizarre sense of humor (my personal favorite), and a wheel chair, and all within five minutes of my entrance. Data, and blood pressure taken, new nametag bracelet on wrist, I was wisked to X-ray within ten minutes. Pictures taken and wheeled to my private room, I met with a PA who was happy to show me my foot photos and explain my break. He, too, had a good sense of humor, and was delighted to explain that my next six weeks would require rest, reading, and people waiting on me. How great is that! Of course, none of this was in my plans, but when handed a break, I say, make the best of it. And just think of the opportunity it gives family and close friends. They'll learn new skills and enjoy the morning scoop as well, and they'll be able to return some of the favors bestowed upon them by this Fairy Blogmother.

An act of kindness

2005-08-17T20:09:00.000-05:00

I received an email from a friend who thought I might be interested in a project. And it was such a 'feel good' thing, I feel compelled to share it with whoever out there who might read the Fairy Blogmother's blog.

Sometimes when you help someone else, you help yourself even more. And the price of the assistance is simply that of a baby blanket for a child who might never have one. A quick trip to the baby department when you're in a mall shopping will do it.

Think about the blanket that you held and dragged around as a small child. Were you in agony on laundry days when it disappeared? Wasn't its feel important to you? My own children saved a piece of their own baby blankets for years. I remember sending my son to middle school with a piece of the blanket binding tucked into his pocket, just for security. Consider your gift of a baby blanket to a child in , and mail your purchase to make a difference in someone's life. A child will know that someone cared. Read on:

A few months ago I was having dinner with my good friend Sid Mohn, president of HEARTLAND ALLIANCE, who had just returned from a missionary trip from Guatemala. He shared with me the story of newborn babies being wrapped in newspaper to be brought home from the hospital.
I immediately felt that through my network of wonderful friends, I could help these women and their children, so I launched the "Baby Blanket Project".
My goal is to collect 1,000 small, lightweight blankets to bring to Guatemala the first week in February, when I will be joining the Heartland Alliance group on a missionary trip to visit the hospitals and orphanages in the impoverished villages. Our goal is to ensure that all babies delivered at the hospitals are sent home wrapped in cloth and not in newspaper and to provide dignity to families and communities who were victimized by both violence and poverty.
Heartland Alliance is a 100 year-old service based human right organization providing paths from harm to hope for the most poor and vulnerable.
Heartland has had a health partnership with a hospital in the highlands of Guatemala for the past five years. During the civil conflict in Guatemala during the 80's and 90's, a significant number of the population in the highlands were tortured or saw family members killed.
Heartland is assisting the medical staff in integrating mental health therapies into their health care practices for treating individuals with post traumatic stress disorder. With such extreme poverty in the highlands, families and hospitals often lack the financial resources to purchase blankets for the newborn infants. The "Baby Blanket Project"
will offer free blankets that have been donated, so that the littlest children of the world will have the warmth and comfort that a soft blanket can bring.
I will be collecting lightweight blankets through the end of 2005 to bring to Guatemala on our trip in February, 2006. If you can donate a new or gently used baby blanket for this cause, please send them to me at the following addresses:
BEFORE SEPTEMBER 25th :
Keek Lee
"BABY BLANKET PROJECT"
16152 First Lane
PO Box 512
Union Pier, MI 49129

AFTER SEPTEMBER 25th :
Keek Lee
"BABY BLANKET PROJECT"
545 Spring Lane
Wyndmoor, PA 19038
Please feel free to pass this message on to all of your friends and co-workers !!!!
Thank you all for supporting this worthy project for the babies of Guatemala. I am grateful for your friendship and wonderful generosity.
Fondly,
Keek

Status Quo or Status Go?

2005-08-16T08:16:00.000-05:00

To go or not to go. That is THE question. If you're miserable in a relationship, the lack of one, your job, your town, your house, etc..... you've answered the question. GO! Change is in your future. Ah, but change is uncomfortable. Why else do so many of us make the same mistake over and over? Why the familiar path is much more comfortable as we already know where it comes out. No surprises. Outcome guaranteed. But if the outcome is a constant state of unhappiness, isn't it time to move on?

Give it a try. Do some homework first. Examine your positives and put them in stars. Be honest about the negatives of change, but don't give them more attention than they deserve. For each negative in your column, list an alternative or way to turn it around to a positive.
Talk to yourself. When were you last happy? Did you have a dream you gave up for a more practical route? Are you willing to step back and take some baby steps to get where you want to be? Where do you really want to be? Advice, who knows you better than you? No one.

Perhaps David Lee Roth of Van Halen said it best: "Go ahead and jump."

My kind of town

2005-08-15T12:18:00.000-05:00

TRIE-SUR-BAISE, France - Yohann and Olivier Roussel's performance climaxed in a cacophony of oinks and grunts, unleashing an explosion of applause. But it was only after lengthy jury deliberations that their hopes were confirmed — the father-and-son team were France's official Pig-Squealing Champions for 2005.

The judges, headed by a former champion, had been impressed by their vocal imitations of pigs in all four of the required categories, reflecting key milestones of porcine existence: from noisy farmyard birth to death under the knife, via suckling and — inevitably — mating.
France's handful of "fetes folles," or crazy festivals, attract a regular cult following and throngs of incredulous holidaymakers. One fete features an acclaimed lying contest; another boasts a distance spitting competition.
But the annual Pig Festival and French Pig-Squealing Championships in Trie-sur-Baise, a remote farming village in the foothills of the Pyrenees, are acknowledged to be in a class of their own.

Stepping up to the microphone in hastily improvised pig outfits — the decision to enter the competition had been taken only the night before — the Roussels let rip with a chorus of uncannily realistic squeals, grunts and snuffles before the 500-strong audience, topped with a delicately choreographed courtship scene.

Newcomers to the contest from nearby Pouy-Loubrin, they beat off six other finalists including regular contender Jean-Paul Louge. But the pair modestly downplayed their win as they waited to collect first prize: a whole pig, butchered and cured with traditional local methods.
"We still have work to do to perfect the pig act," said Olivier, 40, his 20-year-old son Yohann nodding agreement. "But after that, who knows? Why not try some other animals?"
Louge, who placed sixth, was equally gracious in defeat, stressing that the contest was just a bit of fun. "I don't train for this," he said. "It comes naturally."

Contestants and spectators travel to the Pig Festival from across the country and beyond; in past years, its antics have also been witnessed by television viewers in countries from Germany to Korea.
"You are Entering Pig Country," road signs advise motorists on the main approaches to the village, home to 1,100 people.
For most of the year, however, that's just a sad anachronism. Once the region's economic backbone, pig farming has industrialized, globalized and moved elsewhere. The old pig market, one of France's largest with up to 7,500 animals sold daily until the decline took root in the late 1970s, now stands silent.
But one Sunday every August, this corner of France's deep south becomes the heart of Pig Country once again. Bunting and pig-themed posters adorn trees and roadsides. Local waitresses all sport pig tails — and not the kind you wear on your head.
"The Pig Festival came about to stop us forgetting about our past," said Jean-Claude Theze, an ex-farmer who now runs one of the cafes in Trie-sur-Baise.
The village offers as good a symbol as any of modern France's agricultural underbelly and the fierce struggle waged by its rural communities to hold onto identities and livelihoods.
Faced with a collapse in pork prices, some farmers have moved into beef and higher-value black pigs, which can't be produced so intensively. Tourism has also become an important earner.
The villagers are not letting the championship's global exposure go to their heads, Theze said.
"We know it's being held up to ridicule," he said. "We take it all as a joke. It's about spreading a bit of happiness, that's all — we just hope people might come back another day."
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Inspiration

2005-08-15T10:44:00.000-05:00

Most days, the Fairy Blogmother's inspiration comes during her daily walk with the Fairy dog, Lucy. This pooch happens to be the cutest chocolate labrador retriever you've ever seen. She is most demanding about her morning walk, so we're on a wooded path that skirts the grounds of a private boarding school usually by 7:00 AM. shine or rain. This walk also proves to keep both human and canine very grounded and entertained. I find it also to be very humbling to begin each day by scooping poop. Lucy it seems, considers her morning dump both a ritual and a gift to a much loved master. She sniffs the ground for fun.

This morning we met a friend and her dog Rosie, a springer spaniel who prefers solitude to a romp with another dog. The brown velvet dog did what dogs of her breed usually do upon meeting another canine. She slipped under a fence to offer the official dog greeting: a jump, a wag,a prance and then she proceeded to smell Rosie's rear section. Dogs usually do this - it's a known fact. But Rosie wasn't a fan of the butt sniff, and reacted rather sternly with a growl, teeth baring, and chasing attack. Lucy immediately understood her actions were not appreciated and once rebuffed, she retreated to sniffing the ground, not intending to play for the rest of the walk.

And what do I think we humans can learn from this brief adventure? Why it's simple:
1. Know your audience before your performance.
2. Don't stick your nose into someone else's business.
3. If you over-react to someone advances, don't expect them to come around to you anytime soon.

Check out the hundred hunks

2005-08-13T15:02:00.000-05:00

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/promo/100hunks/9.html

The Fairy Blogmother has found an interesting site for women of all ages to peruse. Someone has gathered for you pictures of what he or she thinks are the 100 most appealing men, and has included some acerbic comments about each. How nice to see men on the catwalk. No swimsuits, but interesting viewing.

But remember, the outside packaging can be deceiving sometimes. It's what's inside the box that's far more important than the paper and bow.

The Path of the Pit

2005-08-12T06:37:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother is on a roll this week. I guess that 's how it is with the creative juices; when they begin to flow get out the keyboard and go with it.

A friend just told me that she spent a great deal of time with an ache in the pit of her stomach from worrying about things. Most of these "things" she felt were situations for which she had no control. Some such issues, she said, were: finding a soul mate and the perfect job, a cure for the common cold, the weather, and an end of her friend's meddling. You can try to solve some of the above, but not to perfection. On that we both agreed. Acknowledge that fact, and you're halfway to settling the stomach pains.

But there is a secondary effect of the angst. I suggested to her my theory that the pain in the pit of her stomach seems to travel as if by magic through the body and up to the face where it expresses itself in a wild-eyed look of fear and/or anger, and the lips form into either a frown or narrow into a severe slit. And this, of course is immediately read by anyone nearby as a danger sign which screams: GET AWAY FROM ME! Body language, the experts tell us is more easily read and calculated than the spoken word. And that truly alienates you from the support you need from other people in stressful times. One of lifes's miserable truths.

My thoughts on the matter are these:
-Don't try to control other people or situations that include other people. You can't.
-Needless worry is bad for you. In fact, I'll bet it even puts weight on your hips.
-Learn to accept things and laugh at life's funny ironies and you'll probably be happier.
-The best things in life happen when you least expect them, so you can't prepare for them, but you should be ready to accept them.
-Enjoy all of the little gifts life has to offer, and express your thanks with a smile.

Alcohol Affected Stages at Singles Bars

2005-08-10T19:57:00.000-05:00

As a Fairy Blogmother, I see it as my duty to sometimes offer some provocative thoughts which a less discerning reader might regard as advice. But I take my job seriously and it’s both some thought provoking questions and advice I need to offer today. Indulge me, if I remember correctly from my own youth, it is sometimes easier to listen to someone who isn’t your parent, but has traveled ‘the route’ already.

Recent news stories have saddened me, and I feel I must speak out about the dangers of alcohol taken in excess. I know, you’ve heard it before from parents, teachers, counselors, in print, by ear and on film, blah, blah, blah. But listen one more time, please. I won’t be repeating what you’ve heard untold times before, I hope. And for the record, I’m not a teetotaler. Even now I can tell you that a 5 oz glass of wine will cost you 3 Weight Watcher points.

I’ll ask the questions, you make the call. Did the disappearance of recent high school grad, Natalee Holloway and recent newly-wed, George Smith IV shock you a bit?

Was it the excess alcohol use that led to the tragic disappearance of these two young people on the threshold of a wonderfully exciting life?

Where were their friends and spouse? Might they, too have been in a similar state of self-induced stupor, too impaired to help? Are their companions victims as well--- forever feeling survivors’ guilt? Do these questions repeat in their minds as if they were an internal memory CD stuck in the same place? “If only I had…..” “It might have been me….” and similar thoughts surface as perpetual nightmares?

Excess intake of alcohol does more than add empty calories, weight gain, accidents, and possible alcoholic poisoning. It makes you a target of any predator looking for an easy mark. And that would be YOU if you drink to excess.

I have composed for you a progression of behaviors many drinkers experience on the barstool while sipping their ‘Mudslides” and “Bud’s”. Read through them, and see if you have found yourself at any of these steps on the continuum.

Mellow
Light-headed
Chatty
Ebullient
Footloose / fancy free
Silly
All- knowing
Posturing as a sultry vixen (Females most often)
Swaggering as if in testosterone overload (Males most likely)
Slurring speech
Sloppy gait
Sullen
Dizzy
Booting (ugh!)
Wipe out
Neverland

And now for the advice… Along with a designated driver for your drinking nights, get yourself a “designated independent non- drinking assessor,” or in the modern parlance, a DINDA.

Your DINDA should be an honest person with a strong arm. It is he or she who will assess your behavior and tell you when you must call it a night. And hopefully his/her judgment is as sound as your friendship and said person will not allow you to pass below the first stage on the above list. Or if nothing else the DINDA will be there to be aware and to keep a sober eye out for dangerous situations and people.

With your DINDA in place, if you have to ask: “What did I do last night?” you won’t have to say it with as much trepidation. Or go to Plan B: Don’t drink at all.

Procrastination

2005-08-04T05:34:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother knows lots about procrastination, and you know she does. The last posting at this blog was in December of 2004. If that's not proof of a master procrastinator, I don't know what is.

I'm an old hand at this bad habit. At the age of 11, I remember spending hours on a high wooden raft on the South River near Annapolis Maryland watching other vacationers doing fancy dives and cannonball jumps into the water below. And me? I stood fearfully by the edge of the 12 foot high wooden structure trying to summon the courage to take my first jump. And jump I did, finally. But not without the help of my 70 year old grandfather who could no longer watch me in agony. Would I have made the move without his gentle push? Maybe later that week, or maybe not even during that summer vacation at all. And how did I thank this man for his help in making my time at the beach so much fun? I didn't speak to him for days. We made peace finally, and I realize how grateful I should have been for his help. Sometimes it takes another to help us out of our pattern of procrastination and the widom to know when we need help.

And where does this awful habit come from? Do we hesitate to act because we are lazy, bored, overworked? I think not. I believe we take these action pauses due to fear. We try to be perfect and fear that we won't be. So often we do nothing.

My message today is to move ahead. Take action. If you've been holding back it's time to move on. Write that blog, Say hello to that guy next door. Call that old friend. Ask the boss for a change in your duties or raise in pay. Or jump off that raft. You can swim, can't you?

The emotional wasteland

2004-12-03T12:53:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother just watched an interview with Susan St. James as conducted by Tim Russert.
Ms. St. James was speaking about the recent loss of her 14 year old son and the injury of her other son and husband in a Denver airplane crash.

The woman is amazing. She knows one of the secrets of a happy and healthy life and lives one. When asked if she felt anger over the recent events to befall her family she shared with the audience a quote she always used with her family:

" Harboring resentment is like taking poison and hoping the other guy dies."

All would be wise to heed her advice. And to remind yourselves that along with resentment, guilt and worry are other habits that sap your energy and self-worth.

Focus on the little gifts that life delivers each day, savor them and spread the joy you get to others. That is success.

Reading and Writing

2004-11-08T14:06:00.000-05:00

Two tasks for today which will benefit young females for years to come:

1. Read: "The Wall Street Journal" Monday November 8, 2004 Section R "Through the Glass Ceiling."

2. Write: Send a letter to President Bush at the White House to tell him your thoughts on his upcoming appointment of Dr. W. Hager to the Reproductive Health Advisory Committee of the FDA.

See the letter Fairy Blogmother received about the man and the appointment and respond as you feel.

President Bush has announced his plan to select Dr. W. David Hager to head up the Food and Drug Administration's (FDA) Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee. The committee has not met for more than two years, during which time its charter lapsed. As a result, the Bush Administration is tasked with filling all eleven positions with new members. This position does not require Congressional approval. The FDA's Reproductive Health Drugs Advisory Committee makes crucial decisions on matters relating to drugs used in the practice of obstetrics, gynecology and related specialties, including hormone therapy, contraception, treatment for infertility, and medical alternatives to surgical procedures for sterilization and pregnancy termination. Dr. Hager, the author of "As Jesus Cared for Women: Restoring Women Then and Now." The book blends biblical accounts of Christ healing women with case studies from Hager's practice. His views of reproductive health care are far outside the mainstream for reproductive technology. Dr. Hager is a practicing OB/GYN who describes himself as "pro-life" and refuses to prescribe contraceptives to unmarried women.
In the book Dr. Hager wrote with his wife, entitled "Stress and the Woman's Body," he suggests that women who suffer from premenstrual syndrome should seek help from reading the bible and praying. As an editor and contributing author of "The Reproduction Revolution: A Christian Appraisal of Sexuality Reproductive Technologies and the Family," Dr. Hager appears to have endorsed the medically inaccurate assertion that the common birth control pill is an abortifacient. We are concerned that Dr. Hager's strong religious beliefs may color his assessment of technologies that are necessary to protect women's lives or to preserve and promote women's health. Hager's track record of using religious beliefs to guide his medical decision-making makes him a dangerous and inappropriate candidate to serve as chair of this committee. Critical drug public policy and research must not be held hostage by antiabortion politics. Members of this important panel should be appointed on the basis of science and medicine, rather than politics and religion.
American women deserve no less.

Mark your "Outlook" and "Daytimer"

2004-10-22T09:58:00.000-05:00

In less than two weeks, you will have the chance to choose the CEO for our country. It's a remarkable privilege and responsibility, one that most people don't appreciate.

Find out where the candidates stand on issues that are important to you. The next president and congress will affect your life for years to come. It's not about which candidate has the best ads, hair, daughters, wife, personal style, but who will best steer our country in the direction YOU think it should go.

Do some personal research-think about what's important to you and find out where the candidates stand in regard to your values. Ignore the pleas from friends and the TV ads and make your own decision. It's a lot of power you hold and it's all yours to express as you choose.

Check out your polling place, the office policy on leave for voting, your schedule that day, a babysitter if needed, and mark your calendar, November 2. Do it for yourself. Be counted.

Be a part of the Buycott

2004-10-19T08:51:00.000-05:00

Subject: She Stops Shopping to Conquer - October 19, 2004

If women shut their purses and didn't shop for a day, would the economy
suffer? The idea gets tested on Oct. 19 by 85 Broads, a networking group
founded in
1999 by Janet Hanson, who worked for Goldman Sachs-headquartered at 85
Broad
St.

Business Week has learned that 85 Broads is asking its 4,000-plus members
in
450 companies, colleges, and B-schools not to spend that day. Hanson says
the
"buycott" will show the gap between women's purchasing power and their
underrepresentation in boardrooms and executive suites. Members plan to
spread the
word to friends and to women on college campuses. Women control $3.3
trillion in
yearly consumer spending, 44% of national spending- a sum that isn't just
symbolic.

According to Business Week, the U.S. economy has become increasingly
female-driven...

Did you know that women in the U.S.:

1) Control $3.3 TRILLION in annual consumer spending?

2) Make 62% of all car purchases?

3) Take more than 50% of all business trips?

4) Control over 50% of the personal wealth in this country?

UNFORTUNATELY, WOMEN'S PURCHASING POWER STILL HASN'T TRANSLATED INTO

ECONOMIC POWER.

According to Catalyst, only 6 CEO's in the Fortune 500 are women, 12.4% are
board directors, and 5.2% are among the top earners in the country.

On TUESDAY, OCTOBER 19th, we invite you to leave your checkbook and credit
cards at home as a symbolic gesture that we no longer "buy" the glacial
pace of
change for working women in America. Instead of shopping, go for a walk in
the
park, write a letter to a friend, enjoy a museum, or help someone in need.

PLEASE MARK YOUR CALENDARS AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS

Danish Cheater

2004-08-26T08:21:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother is always looking for ways to take off those same 10 pounds. I know, I know- yo-yo dieting is awful, but I keep trying, and that's important. Consistency is the key to successful weight loss whether you go the way of South Beach, Atkins, Weight Watchers, or use the diet of the week from your favorite magazine. Blah, blah, blah. I know it.

Unfortunately, the Fairy Blogmother gets bored easily and switches from one plan to another, resulting in perpetual weight loss and gain. But boredom is the enemy, and the need to try new things is both a real habit and a passion. (Alas, I like to cook and prepare food as much as I like to partake. And the refigerator is always dangerously full.) Eventually, I'll find the 'fountain of slim.'

So, this morning I came upon a new dish to satisfy my hunger and my need to create.
Banish the donut, pass the bag of cookies and go for something full of healthy ingredients.

And thus was born: "The Blogmother's Danish Cheater."

A slice of whole grain bread - toasted. (I found a cranberry-pecan variety made by a local 'artisan bakery,' and you'd be rewarded if you found such a brand in your area.)

Spread with light cream cheese. (Add more dried cranberries or fresh fruit?)

Top with a good sprinkling of cinnamon.

It has fiber, protein, fruit, nuts, and cinnamon (which, research has just revealed, can significantly reduce your cholesterol rates as much as statin drugs if used at the rate of 1 tsp per day)

If you can, add chopped Brazil nuts on top, you'll give yourself added protection against Ovarian cancer. (Women in the area where these nuts are grown, and eaten daily as a diet staple have 0 incidence of ovarian cancer.)

The Goal

2004-08-24T06:29:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother just read one of the best quotes: "Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off the GOAL." - Hannah More, (English philanthropist of the 18th century)

What a great quote to keep tucked in your pocket and in your mind!

Everyone would be wise to take the time to think about where they want to go, and the steps they're taking to get there. Enlisting help from others is allowed, in fact it's encouraged. Everyone needs a cheerleader or a Fairy Blogmother.

There will always be 'nay sayers,' 'discouragers', and 'belittlers' along the way to your goal (s). You just have to recognize them: the 'friend' with the gift of chocolate chip cookies when you're on a diet, the 'auntie' who says, "Our family never does that," or the co-worker who says, "That won't work." You'd be wise to dismiss them all, with a smile, and keep focused on what YOU want. It's all about YOU.

So get started. Right now! Write down those goals of yours anywhere you can. See some wet cement on the sidewalk? Get a stick and write down your dream, but watch out for the workman who'll yell at you for ruining his perfectly plain and goal-less palate. (Never expect the uninspired for support- they're envious). And expect some detours-that is what makes life interesting.

Advice for the Anxious

2004-08-23T07:45:00.000-05:00

The Fairy Blogmother read some advice from a Harvard professor of psychology on ANXIETY, and wanted to paraphrase the main points of the article, add some of her own thoughts, and pass it along. Personal anxiety is increased by the uncertain times we are experiencing in our country: terrorists, high deficit, war, lack of jobs, etc. etc.

Some people handle stress with ease while other feel anxious. The key to calmness is RESILIENCE or ‘bounce-back ability.’

Be ‘bounce-able’ by developing these skills:

1. Make changes in your own behavior that might be causing negative treatment by others. You work to make relationships better, don’t wait for others to change first. Start out by smiling at the office “pain.”

2. Work on only those things YOU can control. Know which things you can’t control and don’t try to do the impossible. Frustration feeds anxiety.

3. See problems as puzzles or challenges, not as crisis. No hysterics.

4. Be empathetic: try to see a situation as another sees it, or wear their shoes for a while.

5. Really listen to others- try to understand what people are saying to you, and validate their feelings. Don’t try to plan your answer to them while they're talking, and NEVER say, “Don’t feel that way.” (They do.)

6. Admit and appreciate your strengths. Remind yourself of the ‘good things’ in your life. OFTEN- in writing, on tape, in song, on the bathroom mirror......

7. Accept mistakes not as personal failures but as something
that will help you learn new skills.

8. Help others for that can add meaning to your life and
help you reduce stressful feelings.

2004-08-22T06:07:00.000-05:00

Fairy blog mother's children go back to school

The art of umbrella use

2004-08-21T10:58:00.000-05:00

Fairy Blogmother's advice for today is about umbrellas. Take one when you venture out. About the color- my mother always said to me, and I'm sure it was advice from her mother: "Remember that an umbrella is the frame around your face, just like the frame on a picture." If you look awful in yellow or green, don't choose an umbrella that casts that color on your face either. Warm colored umbrellas will give you a glow. If you're a bride, white is nice; black for the groom. Other than that, you don't have to match your outfit, just complement it or yourself.
Carrying an umbrella is smart. Those who don't risk a truly bad hair and outfit day. Your umbrella can invite friendship and closeness , even handholding- invite a friend or interesting stranger underneath its cover and be his or her savior in a downpour. If the rain ends, give it a quick shake and hook it on your arm as a scepter and you'll look regal. Swing it about and you'll look rather 'Chaplin.' Put your name on it, and if you leave it behind (on purpose or by accident) you may get the phone call about it's return and allow a relationship to blossom. For a pesky lagger in a buffet line, its tip can be serve as a cattle prod, or its material side can dismiss a bore or an unexpected attack of flatulance. A few quick open and closures can shield you from the offensive and/or offender. And if perhaps you find yourself in a tough situation, you can always use your umbrella as a weapon a la Ruth Buzzi. No excuses- take the umbrella.

Sweet Start

2004-08-20T20:39:00.000-05:00

I found this recipe on the back of the cocoa tin, and also on a friend's table. The cake won rave reviews at a dinner party, so I pass it along to you as a gift.

If you have to take a dish to a picnic, party, the office or to welcome a new neighbor, or impress someone or someone's mother, try this one. It's simple enough and chocolatey enough, and it's not out of a box..

And after you bake it, keep it away from the edge of the counter, especially if you have a dog. Chocolate is toxic to the canine system, and this just might be too tempting for Fido to resist.

2004-08-20T20:26:00.000-05:00

Fairy Blog Mother

Sweet Start

2004-08-20T20:05:00.000-05:00

Hershey’s “Perfectly Chocolate” Chocolate Cake

2 c sugar
1 ¾ c All purpose flour
¾ c Hershey’s Cocoa
1½ tsp. Baking powder
1½ tsp. Baking soda
1tsp. Salt
2 eggs
1 c milk
½ c vegetable oil
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 c boiling water

Cupcakes: line muffin cups with paper bake cups. Fill cups 2/3 full with batter. Bake at 350 degrees (preheated oven) for 22 – 25 minutes. Cool. Frost. Makes 30 cupcakes ( Cake: 2 nine inch pans for 30 – 35 minutes or until done)

Directions Combine dry ingredients in large bowl. Then add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla. Beat on medium speed 2 minutes Stir in boiling water. (Batter will be thin)

“Perfectly Chocolate” Chocolate Frosting

1 stick butter or margarine
2/3 c Hershey’s Cocoa
3 c powdered sugar
1/3 c milk
1 tsp vanilla extract

Melt butter. Stir in cocoa. Alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating on med. Speed to spreading consistency. Stir in vanilla. Add more milk or sugar to thin or thicken the frosting for consistency you prefer.