Today is World AIDS Day 2006. No … that’s not a celebration. No, it’s not a holiday. It’s meant to call attention to the pandemic we’re living in.

Almost 40,000,000 people worldwide have HIV or full-blown AIDS. More than 2,000,000 of these are children under the age of 15. They get it from their mothers. That is, they are born with it. Did you hear me??!! BORN with it. They are born with a death sentence. In some manner I suppose we all are. But in this instance it is somewhat different. These children are born with a horrible illness which carries a stigma and they will never be healthy, then … they will die. They will also likely spend a significant time as orphans. This … because their mothers are caught in the web of a culture which uses, abuses and then tosses them in the trash heap.

There’s not much we can do to change the culture. There’s not a whole lot we can do to stop people from having sex. But here’s what you can do.

I bet you have $10. Almost everyone has $10. Especially at this time of year. So, take $10 and donate it towards anti-virals to be sent to the moms in Africa. At the very least, we can help the moms. That’s the very least we can do. Help the mothers stay with their children. Help the children grow up. Learn to live. Make a donation for life. If you really are pro-life, here’s a way to make a stand. This is part of the consistent life ethic. Being about life … rather than death.

We must no longer condemn these innocents to death. Rather we must continue the mission … set the captives free, restore sight to the blind, release the oppressed. Look at at all the good stuff $10 can do!

Yesterday was “Buy Nothing Day” here in the U.S. I participated in this. I hate shopping the day after Thanksgiving. It’s a fate worse than … well … it’s not worse than being accused in Singapore of selling drugs. But it’s pretty close. LightHusband did purchase some pingpong balls, but this was for the purpose of playing on the newly re-established pingpong table. He and the LightChildren had cleared space for said table and wanted to play. I think it still counts as non-participation.

I am steadily attempting to unhook from the economic machine. It’s impossible, I know, to do so completely. But our culture has an unhealthy attachment to the opiate. I’m not sure what would replace it. I know I haven’t thought this through adequately, but still … being able to make do without being attached is making more and more sense to me. Excepting, of course, for when I’m sick and need to be a princess and have my groceries delivered. Then, all bets are off.

It was reassuring to read that “Buy Nothing Day” has an international element. People are doing this in other countries, particularly the industrialized nations of Europe, I would imagine. I can’t imagine that many people in the Third World need to be told to “Buy Nothing” today. “No, I know you have no money, but just in case you were thinking of buying some food for your family to eat today, it’s Buy Nothing Day, so just wait, please.”

Maggie Dawn is talking about “Buy Nothing Day” on her side of the pond. She didn’t think that “Buy Nothing Day” had much impact there. I don’t want to disabuse her, but I don’t think it has much impact here either, except for in the characters and psyches of those of us who participate. She also has a link to a great new religion on her site. Really, I think it’s the religion for our age. It’s time has come to fullness and fruition. Seriously, tho … check out the new religion. I’m sure you know someone who is a novitiate, or perhaps even a high priest/priestess.

It’s not often I take time out to actually make a list. I don’t do it often enough. So here (in no particular order) are some of the things I’m thankful for this November 23.

-For being sick … it’s given me a chance to sit still and reflect more deeply on some things that I needed to. Even though my brain is fairly clogged I’ve managed to do that.

– For coffee … I’m always thankful for coffee. I love coffee. Regular, with cream, no sugar. Iced in the summer. I especially love Fair Trade coffee from Green Mountain Coffee Roasters made in a french press. I’m grateful to the Incans or the Mayans who first looked at the beans hundreds of years ago and saw potential there.

-For my parents … they both grounded me and gave me wings. Most importantly they taught me how to learn and what was important to learn. How to ask questions. How to be curious about the world around me and within me.

-For my children … they continue to ground me and give me wings. They help me to continue to be curious and love to learn.

-For my quilting sisters in my quilt guild … they consistently build and encourage the spirits of all who are there.

-For my faith community who allow me to explore rabbit holes of theology with them and they come along happily.  Sometimes they find new rabbit holes of their own.  Who pour out grace and mercy in abundant supply and remind me that Jesus isn’t just one person anymore and that’s a good thing.

-For Smaug (the dragonification of my panic disorder and depression) he’s helping me to learn new and healthier manners of living in the world.

-For Fair Trade and other shopping opportunities that allow me to use my money in a way that benefits real people who really need it.  It feels like a two for one deal.

-For my friends who share their lives with me and I get to share with them.  Who share their Thanksgiving dinners at the last minute when we’re sick and we’ve shared with them under similar circumstances.

-For all of our siblings … and their spouses … they make us laugh and help stabilize our keel.  There is something about being with your siblings that cannot compare to anything else.

-For good beer … need I say more?

-For beautiful fabric and friends to oogle it and plan for it’s consumption with.

Yea … my cup runneth over ….

Thanksgiving is coming. Here’s what I would usually be doing. Cleaning. Baking pies. Shopping. Anticipating good smells. Good tastes. Planning the schedule for the big day. Anticipating whatever company would be coming. This year we’d invited some friends from the Eastern Shore. We haven’t seen them in a year or so.

Here’s what I am doing. Sitting on the sofa, wrapped in an afghan, coughing and hacking. Yesterday, LightHusband and I got matching prescriptions for our matching illness: bronchitis and sinusitis. Sweet. Some couples get matching towel sets, we get matching prescriptions. We had to tell our friends, “Sorry, some other Thanksgiving.” Which kind of stinks.

I am, however, still able to browse the web. So I did the grocery shopping via Peapod. Our dinner will arrive at my doorstep. I do not have to browse the literal aisles and hope that I don’t forget anything. I browsed virtual aisles and have time to remember what I forgot. The ingredients for our feast arrive tomorrow morning. So … whenever I feel up to the preparation, we’ll have our dinner.

I’ve been reading blogs. My friend, the Macaroni Duck pointed me to this article about obesity in dragonflies. Fascinating stuff that. Really. It is. What this study discovered was that obesity in dragonflies could be traced to parasites in their digestive systems. The study authors went on to speculate that perhaps (perhaps) the recent dramatic increase in obesity might be traced to a change in the microflora of our digestive systems. If that is the case, no amount of exercise, dieting, etc. can help. It made me wonder if the dragonfly husbands left their wives when they let themselves go like that.

But mostly I’ve been ever so grateful for an afghan that a dear friend made for me about a year ago. I’ve been wrapped in that afghan for the better part of five days now. I’ve spent a portion of a couple of nights in it as well. So, today I sent my friend an Ode to My Afghan. This is an indication of how far down into boredom and shrunken braincells I’ve fallen. But I wanted you all my dear readers to know what a wonderful friend I have to make me this special afghan and how much I love it.

Ode To My Afghan

Oh my afghan, so blue and so red
You are beautiful, warm and cozy.

I love you my afghan,
You lie at the ready,
Always there to surround me
with warmth and love.

You greet me each day
and at midnight should I need it.
Just the right size
Definitely not too small
You are comfortable
and comforting.

I love you my afghan
You almost make being sick
Worth it.

P.S. Yes, I realize I’m two days too early for Bad Poetry day.

My parents and my favorite uncle stopped in for a brief visit yesterday morning. We served brunch and had a lovely chat. I haven’t seen Uncle Ralph since my grandmother’s funeral. Sad, but true.

As breakfast wound down, my father turned to me and said, “So, how do you think the Dems are going to do now that the election is over?” Wow … a real grown up question. I must be a real grown up now.

I think the election was a vindication of Howard Dean’s leadership strategy. This is a strategy that Dean originated in his presidential campaign of 2004. The Democrats have been famous for extremely selectively spending their money. They have been putting all of their eggs in just a few baskets for years. That is, attempting to determine which races they have the most chance of winning and then putting all the money towards those. Howard Dean reversed that trend and leverage the funds by spreading them far and wide. His strategy (which the Republicans have been using for years) is, win by 1%, just win in a lot of places. I’d say it worked.

We went on to talk about the rot in the national system versus the new blood that is now pouring into the state and local systems as a result of this election. It was a grownup conversation with my dad, my uncle and me. I was an adult conversing with two other adults. A baton was passed. A piece of my soul relaxed, flourished and grew in that moment.

Then a surprise and shock. My dad and my uncle dropped a bomb on me. They were unaware it was a bomb. It was information they always knew. I had made assumptions about my grandparents (their parents) based on what I knew of their characters, but they were not Democrats. My beloved grandfather and grandmother were … Republicans. My mind stretched and cobbled and is still trying to bridge the tension between what I know of who they were and how they could have voted for Republicans. My uncle explained it this way, “When I was growing up all the Catholics voted Democrat and all the Protestants voted Republican. We were Protestant, so we were Republican.” He went on to recount the election of Franklin Delano Roosevelt when he was approximately LightBoy’s age. He recalled his parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents sitting around bewailing the communist/socialist tendencies of Roosevelt. That the country was coming to an end and that FDR was the equivalent of Hitler or Mussolini.

I tried to excuse this impolite transgression of my grandfather’s by revising the Republican history of the 20th century. Not so, my father reminded me. The Republicans of early to mid-century were happy to do business with the Nazi party in Germany, or the party in power in Italy (if I were a better historian I’d remember the name). What I can not come to terms with is how my grandfather, a stalwart union (Teamster) organizer and supporter, came to terms himself with the policies and politics of the Republican party … which was and is staunchly anti-union? And so, the mystery remains. It would seem that no one ever particularly talked politics with Grampy and I was never old enough.

My parents are visiting Florida this week. They are visiting my father’s brother. In fact, all of my father’s siblings have gathered at his brother’s home this week. My uncle has chronic emphysema. Earlier this year he had a terrible case of pneumonia that became intractable. More recently it seems that the doctors have discovered that the intractable pneumonia may actually be lung cancer. So this trip may be the last time ever that the sibs are together in this world. This unspoken reality has leant a certain poignancy to the reports my mother has been sending to my brothers and I. I love my aunts and uncles and parents. As a child and young adult, they were the trellis around which the vine of my life wound. It makes me happy in a deep down satisfied kind of way that they are all together and enjoying each other so much. The latest report, however, was hilarious! I include it here as a peek behind the curtain … exposure to the origins of my font of blessings as it were.

Well. Here I am in Florida with the Naylor clan – let me describe the folks who will be together for the next few days 😉

#1 – 87 – slightly deaf despite hearing aids, glaucoma, macular degeneration, bad knee, not so good feet, some difficulty walking, and uses a cane – some short term memory lapses – Democrat

#2- 84 – very deaf and refuses to buy hearing aids, on oxygen due to severe emphysema and lung infections, tires after a few steps – listens to Fox news 24/7 – finishes all punch lines whether he’s ever heard the story or not – very poor short term memory – right-wing GOP

#3 – 83 – hearing only slightly diminished – bad, bad knee – bad, bad feet – much difficulty walking and refuses to use a cane – blind in one eye – easy going – good memory – Democrat

#4 – 78 – some eyesight impairment – some unsteadiness – goes with the flow -good memory – probably GOP since lives in the house with 24/7 Fox News

#5 – 74 – hearing aids provide adequate hearing under most circumstances – sometimes misses important info in a conversation – no other physical handicaps except unwilling to drive in unfamiliar congested areas – Independent

#6 – 73 – works part time – no physical handicaps – sometimes flaky – Democrat

#7 – 67 – misses a few words here and there – no physical handicaps – drives through all the congested and route changing miles – keeper of maps, tickets and other important documents, must be the memory for all the above without being obvious – taxi service -due to hearing problems and lack of attention by all the others, must listen to innumerable repetitions of essentially useless information – Independent

We all got together last evening and had a wonderful time-SO for #3 had unwittingly ‘let the cat out of the bag’ Thursday evening by calling #2 and asking for #3. So he knew that part before we arrived – but he didn’t know #6 was coming. #2’s son happened to be here also, so he got to see the five siblings at their ‘best’!
This journey will definitely be the hardest job I’ll ever love.

Update #1 – Sunday – This is like herding cats!

Update #2 – Tuesday – A quick note to tell you all that the black mass in #2’s lung is NOT cancer – it is more of the fungus – now they have a sample they can culture it and hopefully get a more specific med to cure it.  He and Wife were noticeably more up when they got that news yesterday.

It’s later in the morning than I usually awaken. +OneFriend has a cold and is struggling with quite a cough in the night, so LightHusband and I were up with him a good bit last night. It is one of the miracles of this place that I am able to sleep in a bit when necessary.

We probably should not have gone out for creemees (as softserve icecream is called up in these parts) last night. The ride home required that we have the windows open to air out the fumes from the gas can we had filled for the boat rides taken during the day (tubing in the afternoon and fishing after dinner). The cool pollen filled air started +OneFriend’s coughing jag and he just couldn’t get past it.

So it’s been later than usual for me to come out to the porch and sit with my coffee and cruller. The clouds are puffy as a fresh snowbank over the ridge across the bay and the boats are lolling in no particular direction, at ease awaiting their next orders from the currents and winds. Children and parents are playing at various camps around the cove, and LightBoy is fishing.

I’ve been musing about the various pillars which support human relationships this morning. Mostly I’ve been thinking about trust. I’ve been remembering how +OneFriend came in the dark of night, trusting that when I told him to awaken me if he needed to, I would respond. Of course I did. LightHusband and I sat with him for the hour it took to quieten his cough and relax and go back to sleep. For the most part, children trust very easily. They believe the things that they are told by adults. Their minds do not have the ability to question or challenge. They do not bother with the things that are beneath the surface. There are no icebergs. It is only when we become adults that we begin searching for hidden meanings, the lines between the lines, the hurts and betrayals.

There are two things that Jesus said that I’ve been musing about this morning. The first is that we (all of us … especially the adults) should come to Him with faith like children. The second is that we should be wise as serpents and gentle as doves. Now before you begin taking me to task for taking those verses out of context, I know I did that! Those are some fairly standard teachings of Jesus and I’m musing on my porch about trust and I don’t have my Bible/concordance/commentary open next to me. I merely think that in regards to trust issues, those two teachings put us in a place of tension. It is difficult to hold faith with child-like trust, yet be wise as a serpent. I think it requires that we overlook an awful lot of hurts done to us. Perhaps it even puts us in the place where we forgive others seventy times seven. I think it requires that we sometimes conciously not look for lines between lines or hidden meanings. I wonder, if, perhaps, that tension isn’t a most difficult aspect of my faith.

LightBoy and Sam playing.

I was catching up on my sleep.

We’re going to Circus Smirkus this afternoon.

Ahhh … the fresh scent. Breath in deep. You only get it out in the country; that distinct aroma of freshly spread “fertilizer.” When the south wind blows up the “Point,” we get it from the farms down the lake. Manu-Aire … we decided to give it it’s own name. The LightChildren +OneFriend don’t quite understand and roll their eyes. LightHusband and I think it’s perhaps too funny. We chortle with glee at our own joke as our eyes water and our noses clear out.

The minor joys of vacation.

… Island. Here’s how we spent the day on Sunday (with LightHusband’s parents, sister and her family). And now I’m recuperating from spectacular sunburn, despite many reiterations of 45 proof sunblock!

Traffic is stuck, we’re not moving anywhere.

Lawns in the center, surrounded by international waters … in the middle of Lake Champlain!

Jump! You might as well jump …

Splish, splash I’m a takin’ a bath …

Thought you’d found a friend, take you out of this place, lend a helping hand …

Mothers and daughters enjoy a rare moment.