March 10, 2012
N.E.D. The Band
N.E.D. stand for No Evidence of Disease. A place that Firefly will probably never achieve. It also is the name of a rocking ROCK BAND composed of talented Doctors! Not just any type of doctor, but Gynecological Oncologists! The type of doctor that manages patients with Ovarian Cancer. These six doctor/musicians come from all over the United States; in fact one of them practices with my doctor and I have spoken to him on occasion.
The band’s acronym N.E.D., which stands for No Evidence of Disease, introduces a deeper, more substantive influence on the band’s music, for each of the six band members are also practicing gynecological oncologists. As physicians, they treat diseases that affect some 90,000 women each year and that result in 30,000 deaths annually. Six Degrees, their newest album, simultaneously solidifies the band’s musicianship (Oregon Music News says N.E.D. would “certainly make it as musicians and songwriters full-time, if that was what they wanted”) while bringing them to the forefront of an awareness movement that is seeking to break through a wall of silence surrounding gynecologic cancer.
On a deeper level, Dancing with N.E.D. is fundamentally about the women who are diagnosed with gynecologic cancer and the life-altering effects of the disease, including the prospect of dying before having children or having to choose their life over having children. Of those fortunate enough to have children, many will die before having the opportunity to see them grow up. The documentary, set to be completed in November, 2011, depicts the heart-wrenching journeys of these women through sadness, anger, fear and hope, all the while having both their physical endurance and emotional courage tested to the limits.
In a final overlap between their music and fascinating backstory, N.E.D. is officially part a non-profit foundation in Portland, OR, called Marjie’s Fund, which is named after a Portland artist and musician who died of uterine cancer in 2007. The fund is committed to raising awareness about gynecologic cancers and providing monies for research in this area. All proceeds from the bands’ endeavors go directly to the fund.
Ultimately, the story of N.E.D. is the tale of the dual lives of six individuals who seek to bring well-being and hope to their patients while collectively writing music that expresses the toughest challenges universally faced by everyone. Fortunately, for patients and fans alike, it is a dual-role N.E.D. pulls off exceptionally well.
N.E.D. returns to Portland, OR, on Saturday, March 10 for what promises to be a great follow-up to their rousing performance at the Aladdin Theater last year. Once again, the band will be playing at the Aladdin. Doors open at 7:00pm, with the show kicking off at 8:00pm. Advance tickets are available now for $25 through Ticketmaster. Day of show tickets are $28.
December 29, 2011
Doggie Diary – Happy Dreams
Well, my cute little ball of fluff likes to sleep a lot. Usually when I am working at the computer, she will beg to sit on my lap and other times she just wants to curl up in her extra bed in the office and take a nap. When she naps, Mercedes tucks her head down so the light doesn’t bother her eyes!
So today, there she is napping away. I have heard her make little sounds and little barks and growls while sleeping so I know that she is dreaming. But today she did something I have never heard or seen. Picture this…. my little white ball of fluff is all curled up in her little bed sound asleep and there is no sound but the sound of her tail wagging as it hits the floor repeatedly! Then the wagging gets faster, then slows, then gets faster again! She is such a happy little doggie! She even has happy dreams!
November 8, 2011
Asteroid Tuesday
The asteroid 2005 YU55, which is wider than an
aircraft carrier, will pose no threat when it makes a close pass by Earth.
Check out how to catch all the action.
Whew! Looks like we dodged the bullet on that one!
October 25, 2011
Ticket to the Ballet
When young, I took ballet lessons in Whittier at the Mona Frances School of Cecchetti Ballet (for many years). Mona Frances was a Ballerina of the highest caliber. At our little Whittier ballet school, she brought in George Balanchine and his New York ballerinas to teach us his new ballet “Graduation Ball’. Mr. Balanchine returned for the opening performance and he ran into my girlfriend and I while we were waiting in the green room at Whittier High School Auditorium for our entrance on stage. He said that we “looked too beautiful to be little school girls”. I guess we were just natural beauties and had never really worn much make up so the stage makeup really made us look very pretty… which was NOT what he wanted. So, back to the make-up room we went and put freckles on our faces and that pleased him. I have never forgotten that vis-a-vis encounter with that great ballet choreographer.
At rehearsals at the ballet school, Mr. Balanchine’s new York Troup wore very revealing short cropped tops (quite risque for the early 1960′s) and he chastised them in front of the ballet school dancers. I think he wanted to impress Miss Frances (as we always called her). She had red hair and always insisted that we dance to live music and there was always a pianist present at each class.
My pink toe shoes are from that time and there is a very unflattering photo of me in costume for Graduation Ball. Oh, and I have performed in the Nutcracker as well, so I am very familiar with the choreography and beautiful music! Also somewhere in my important papers you will find my Cecchitti Examination certificates. I worked very hard to achieve the different grade levels and each one took several years of training to even be eligible to take the hours long dancing exam.
September 11, 2011
September 11, 2011 ~ 10 Year Anniversary
Today is September 11th. 9 / 11
This is the 10 year anniversary of the terrorists attacks on our country. This is a reprint of my annual September 11th post because I actually had 5 of the terrorists on board my flights the summer of 2001 during their reconnoissance flights. My comment to Mohammed Atta caused them to modify their plans from using all American Airlines planes to using two from United Airlines. After I recounted my story to a working American Airlines Flight Attendant, she looked at me, gave me a hug, and said “You are a hero. You saved some of our planes and crews and passengers.” I told her that “ yes, there were two less American Airlines planes, but two more United ones. So I don’t feel like a hero at all.” Of course, I had no idea that I had been conversing with the ringleader until well after 9/11 and I saw the terrorists names and pictures. Here is my true story.
At the time, I was an active Flight Attendant for a major United States carrier. Yes, one of the ones that lost planes, crew members, and passengers. And no, I did not know anyone on board any of those historic flights and even though I lived in NYC for a number of years, I did not know anyone who was murdered in the attack on our country that day.
I was at home between flights thinking about packing for my regularly scheduled flight the following morning when the phone rang before 9:00 am. It was my Mother calling to the midwest from her California home. She did not greet me with “Hello.” But her anxious voice said my name, and then,”Is that you? Are you home?’ Then with audible relief in her voice “Oh, thank God! Are you alright?” I was puzzled and probably replied something like “Yes, I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be alright?”
She then said “Don’t you know what is going on?” I said, “No. What is happening?” My mother then asked if I had the TV on. When I said, no, she told me to turn it on. When I asked her, “what channel?”, she said, “Any channel.” I watched the attacks in unbelief trying to wrap my mind around what my eyes were seeing…. trying to process the visual information that just didn’t want to process mentally. To this day, when I watch the documentaries of the attacks, I still cannot totally comprehend the magnitude of the events of that day.
It reminds me of my reaction to the plane crash in Sioux City, Iowa years earlier. Over and over I watched the news reports trying to imagine the horror inside that plane as the plane tore apart while on fire . You will recall, many passengers survived finding themselves alive in the tall Iowa cornfield that graced the runway. The cool moisture of the tall cornstalks may have had a beneficial effect on the flames. Remember that whenever the fuselage of a plane ruptures you are provided another possible exit; take advantage of it. But believe me, no Flight Attendant will have to tell you that!
The attacks of 9/11 were very well planned . I know that they were in the planning for many years and a lot of money was spent in their careful planning. I am convinced that I had six of the terrorist/hijackers on at least two different flights of mine and that I personally spoke to at least 4 of them on separate occasions during their reconnaissance flights prior to 9/11. A chilling retrospective thought.
The first time was out of Florida. This small-in-stature middle eastern man was a passenger in coach sitting about seat 10A on our MD-80 aircraft. The flight was moderately light, about half full. At that time we were still serving drinks and meals in coach! After we finished the meal service, this man told me that he was in flight school in Florida and that he would like to go look around the cockpit.
When I inquired what type of aircraft he was training in he replied that he was going to be a Captain on a 767. I found that almost unbelievable knowing how much our Captains have to go through in order to become qualified on the wide-bodied aircraft. And the years of flying that were needed for them to become senior enough to hold a Captains bid with the major air carriers.
I politely told him that I would check with the Captain, but I knew the answer even before saying I would check with the Captain. I asked him for his boarding pass so I could present it to the Captain and I remember his unusual name –Hani Hanjour. I remember the conversation well, because it was such an unusual request. Sometimes we would allow children to come to the cockpit during flight when there were none of the security cockpit restrictions that are now in place. After making the Captain aware of the request, I told the man that he was welcome to stop by the cockpit after the flight to visit with the pilots. He never did stop by the cockpit. I confirmed that he was Hani Hanjour from the photos I saw later of the terrorists.
The other incident occurred out of Newark, probably in early August, 2001. You will recall that one of the 9/11 flights departed from the Newark airport. There were five middle eastern men on my Newark-St. Louis-San Francisco flight; three in the rear of coach, one near the front of coach, Marwan al Shehhi, and one in First Class. Same type of airplane – an MD-80. I was working in coach and three of them had seats across from the back galley, but were very interested in the boarding process. They were standing up in and around the rear galley, blocking the aisle to the rear lavatories and just generally “in our way”.
I recall that there was a lot of conversation ( in Arabic) between them and again, this is behavior out of the ordinary, so I remember it clearly, even several years later. All of them did not speak English and finally one of them asked me if there were still passengers coming on board. I told him that we still had twenty minutes before departure. With a very concerned look on his face, Mohammed Atta asked me if the “flight was going to be full? ” I remember replying very matter-of-factly, “We are always full, if not overbooked out of Newark.” He replied something like, “even on Tuesdays?” I said “Every single day, every flight I’ve ever worked out of Newark has been full.” He was very concerned by this bit of information and it prompted more intense conversation between the three men.
You will recall that 9/11/01 was a beautiful warm late summer Tuesday. Even during the recon flights during the summer of 2001, they already had the date of September 11th established.
The rest of our conversation went like this: He (Mohammed Atta) asked me about other American carriers out of Newark that flew to San Francisco. I told him that I just didn’t have that information and that they would have to check another carrier. I now firmly believe that it was my comment to Mohammed Atta that prevented the loss of one more American Airlines plane and crew. I believe that my remark “Every flight I have ever worked out of Newark has been full.” caused the terrorists to rethink their plans and change from American Airlines to United Airlines. I am sorry though for the terrible loss of crew and passengers of the United Flight 93 that the terrorists hijacked out of Newark. By the way, United Flight 93 was also scheduled to fly from Newark to San Francisco which is the same route that my flight took the day I had the terrorists on board for their recon flight.
Mohammed Atta was the ringleader terrorist and the reconnoissance flights in August , 2001 were their means of finalizing their terror plot.
You will recall that September 11, 2001 was a bright and beautiful Tuesday. This means that they had their plan in place MONTHS before the actual attacks. He actually asked about the loads on other air carriers and I told him he could check, but I had no way of knowing how full other carriers were on certain flights. You will recall that all of the hijacked flights were carrying very light passenger loads.
One of the men I spoke to on this flight was Mohamed Atta, the terrorist pilot who flew American Airlines Flight 11 into the first World Trade Building Tower.
Hani Hanjour was another of the terrorist pilots; he flew the American Airlines flight 77 into the Pentagon.
Marwan Al Shehhi was one of the terrorists on my Newark flight’ he was the pilot that crashed the second plane, United 175, into the second world trade tower.
I never used to turn my TV on in the morning. Now, I turn it on most mornings, just to get the news.
I will fly my large US flag on 9/11. It is a day we need to honor our country and those who lost their lives.
Will you please fly your flag also?
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March 31, 2011
Doggie Diary V
I thought that Mercedes was Bichon Frise breed of dog and that is what the shelter was told and they agreed. Well, I could finally have her groomed the other day and the groomers told me a little more about this white ball of fluff. This was her first groom.
Mercedes doesn’t like to have her face hair wet. She is starting to come to me after she eats so I can wipe off her face! So, I thought that I’d have her face shaved fairly close so she would feel more comfortable. Well, a Bichon has a rather broad and somewhat flat snout. Poodles have a long narrow snout. Mercedes had so much hair around her face and neck that I thought that she was pure Bichon, but after her new groom, it is apparent that she has Poodle in her. She has a classic poodle snout, but the sturdy body and cute ‘curved over the back’ tail of a Bichon. They also told me that she had had at least one litter of puppies. My Mercedes had been a Momma! And because of the abuse, I suspect more than once. I think they probably used her as a breeder to make money. No more!
The poodle in her explains why she insists on having her face wiped off after she eats! And is why she is so meticulous about keeping her paws cleaned off as well. When she came home with me from the shelter her toe nails were so long that her paw pads couldn’t touch the ground. The hair growing between her toes and over her paws was over two inches long. I couldn’t even see her collar for all the six inches of fur growing all over her body. And she couldn’t even see because of the fur covering her beautiful liquid black eyes. Within a few hours of coming into my home, I took care of some of those things as best I could until she had her first beauty day. But now she is the beautiful animal that God created her to be.
March 29, 2011
Doggie Diary IV
Well, Mercedes is now a part of my family. We are having a learning curve here on adjusting to each other. I have been listening to the audio books by Caesar Milan, the Dog Whisperer. He has some very valuable insights that I have had to employ with this shelter rescue dog.
Poor little Mercedes was abused. I was able to figure this out through some of her behaviors. When she does something wrong ( and believe me she knows when she has been bad) she goes and hides. When I went to get her out of her hiding place the first time, she growled at me and so I explained to her that I was not going to hurt her, that no one was going to hurt her anymore and that she can come out when she is ready. It took her 2 1/2 hours to come out from her hiding place and ask to watch TV with me. the next time she was bad she went and hid again, but this time, she came out in about 20 minutes. The last time she started to go and hide and then stopped short and turned around and came right to me. I could actually see her thinking and working through the process. “OK, I’m not supposed to be on the bed unless I’m invited. But I jumped up there anyway. Now she wants me off the bed, I was bad. I’d better go and hide before someone hits me. OH, she loves me, she doesn’t hit me. She doesn’t even yell at me. She just firmly tells me to get off the bed. I am safe. I think I ‘ll go and tell her I’m sorry.” And then she comes over to me and lays down and rolls over and all is forgiven and my little Mercedes has learned another lesson.
And then last night, when I quickly reached down to pick her up, she quickly blinked her eyes shut and flinched. Wow. An animal wouldn’t have flinched unless she had been hit before more than once. My poor little sweet (sometimes) girl. Someone must have been really mean to her. I cuddle her and reassure her and give her lots of affection. She has come a long ways in a short time. And I love her.
March 12, 2011
Doggie Diary III
The weather on the Monday that I first went to see Mercedes was beautiful – mid 50′s and sunny and dry, something we Portlanders had not seen in a long time! But by the following Wednesday the weather had turned nasty…. bitter cold with overnights in the teens with rain, snow, ice, and sleet in the forecast. The weathermen did not lie. We had all of the above on Wednesday and Wednesday night; it started to clear a little by Thursday morning. Thursday was the day the I could go and formally adopt Mercedes. On my way across town, the roads were clear but I ran into ice, snow, rain, sleet and a hail. Just a little bit of everything, not enough of anything to make a big road hazard.
I was really excited to get her and didn’t realize how long the process would take. I had to go through an interview process where we went over all of her paperwork. Since she was a ‘surrender’ the previous owner had filled out 6 pages of forms which we needed to go over. Part way through reading these surrender papers, I started to cry while thinking, “How could anyone give up this sweet girl?” I was anxious to get her and take her home and start her new life with me, so I stopped reading so carefully and just glanced over the remainder of the form.
After they checked my Drivers License Number, I was then approved to go to the cashier and pay for her. I brought the receipt back and they went to get her ~ after waiting for an available kennel attendant. This was about a 10 -15 minute wait. Then my little ball of white fluff finally arrived in the arms of a caring attendant. She attempted to locate Mercedes microchip and when she couldn’t locate it, she took her away again (more waiting) to insert another one. Then more time to go over that paperwork!
Since it was cold outside, I brought a little sweater for her to wear in the car home. Then we put her seatbelt harness on her and the attendant carried her out to the car. They are very careful during this phase of the adoption process because I guess that they have had dogs bolt before they were put securely into the new adopters vehicles. We put Mercedes into her seat belt in the front seat and the attendant held onto her while I went around to open my door and got into the car and closed my door. Then Mercedes door was shut and we were off on our way!
Mercedes loves to ride in the car and I don’t think that she took her eyes off of me for more than a few seconds on the ride home. I took her outside on the leash so she would know where to go. She followed me around the house for the rest of the day and just kept watching me. She adjusted Ok that first day and even ate from her cute little dishes.
She whimpered a little bit at bed time, but I knew that she was fine and just had to ignore her until she settled down a few minutes later.
She has settled into our routine and is getting used to me and is really showing her cute, impish personality.
March 5, 2011
March 5th – TWA Anniversary
It was March 5th many years ago when I started my training classes for TWA. TWA flew me from LAX to KCI on what would become my favorite airplane, the 727 Stretch.
We took off over Marina Del Rey and I sat watching the glistening blue waves kiss the golden sands receding below me. I still have that beautiful picture in my mind. Hours later – probably after a delicious meal – remember the airlines used to serve great food even in coach – all included in the price of your ticket. Hours later, we came in for our landing at the old Kansas City International Airport where the landing pattern takes you over the downtown skyscrapers and then the bridge spanning the Missouri River, just at the end of the runway.
We were housed at the beautiful, new, state of the art Breech Training Academy in Overland Park, Kansas. It is still there today and has been sold and used by many different companies over the years. This facility was built just for the purpose of training Flight Attendants for Trans World Airlines. Our accommodations were 2 to a suite with 2 well-lit desks, plenty of closet space and a generous private bath. Ten of these suites opened onto a central area which was a sunken living room complete with a modified kitchen. These 20 young women comprised one class. The classes were arranged alphabetically according to last names. Our class was notable at the Academy for its ethnic make-up . I think we had the single most diverse class that was ever enrolled at Breech Academy. There were 4 black women, 1 Egyptian, 1 Chinese, 2 Hispanics, 2 Catholics, 4 WASPs, 2 Jewish, 1 Japanese, 1 from Belgium, 1 German and 1 from Poland. This diversity would not be unusual today, but ‘ahem’ number of years ago it was very unusual. Remember that our classes were determined by last names only and the classes on either side of ours consisted mostly of ethnically similar, if not identical, young women.
Our classrooms were in another building within walking distance from the 4 multi-storied dormitory buildings. These were also state of the art. Each classroom was horseshoe-shaped with a semi-circular bank of 20 fixed chairs with one long continuous horseshoe-shaped desk for the 20 chairs. Each desk ’station’ had its own set of three buttons marked A, B, or C. Theses buttons were used during the 6 weeks of training for in-classroom testing purposes. At the front of the room was a projection room behind a black window which served as the screen for the slides and videos that were used in just about every single class of our training. To the side of this screen was the teachers podium. Her podium was electronically connected to the buttons at our desks. She could put a multiple choice question up on the screen and we would each push the button that indicated what we thought was the correct answer. We would get immediate feedback as soon as we pushed a button at our desk . If you got it correct, a little green light flashed, if incorrect, a little red light flashed.
We were served three meals a day in the huge cafeteria and we had an enormous swimming pool which was encased in a big white plastic bubble so the pool could be used year around. The pool was necessary because it was imperative that each flight attendant pass the water ditching test in order to graduate. And that meant jumping off the end of the diving board into the pool and swimming over to the enormous life raft floating in the center of the pool. Then you had to climb on board the raft with your life vest fully inflated while the people in the raft made the raft bounce around to simulate North Atlantic Ocean waves!
Out of our class of 20 women only 16 graduated. Of that 16, I think that 10 of us went on to international training for another 2 weeks. At that time one had to be proficient in a foreign language and I passed the test in Italian.
And so March 5th is the date that my career with TWA began. It was a career that gave me incredible opportunities, much happiness, innumerable friendships, and was the fulfillment of my childhood dream. And now in retirement, I am still reaping the benefits of all those years of service by being able to use my travel pass benefits. Ah yes, here is a toast to March 5th and all the memories it brings to this now weary traveler.
March 4, 2011
Doggie Diary II
Back home on Monday afternoon, I decided to take a little rest after my long trek over the hill. “Well, I’ve been gone all day,” I thought. “So I’ll just check my email real quick before I lay down.” Nothing there so I decided to look at the Oregon Humans Society’s web site to see if perhaps a cute little ball of fluff came in.
I actually had my hand on the mouse to close out the site as I was quickly scrolling to the bottom of the last page – disappointed but glad to be able to take a little rest. AND …. there she was ! ….. second from the bottom. Suzy. A ball of white fluff with two eyes in there somewhere behind the cute little black nose. My heart started beating faster, my mind racing, trying to figure out if she really was available and now what do I do to get her?
I went back and reread her bio, jotted down her ID number, clicked around the site to find the phone number and called the shelter. Yes she is available, just came in today, there are no holds on her. I decided to go and see her, but the shelter is on the other side of town and now it is rush hour.
Grabbing a very quick bite of early dinner, and refilling my water bottle, I rechecked the directions and got in the car. She was still available when I arrived and she & I had a ‘meet and greet’ in a large private room designed for just that purpose. She was perfect! Since she had not been spayed yet, I couldn’t take her home that day but I could put a non-refundable deposit to hold her until she could go home. I knew that I would change her name since she was going to have a new life . I watched her carefully during our time together and when I called out the name ‘Mercedes’ she stopped her explorations and looked right at me! So that was settled, her name is Mercedes. She is a Bichon Frise which is the breed of dog that the Spanish explorers would take with them on long voyages and they are often pictured in Goya’s paintings of Spanish Royalty. And so my new little doggie has a beautiful Spanish name to go with her beautiful spirit. I immediately paid the additional $15.00 fee and signed the papers and told her that I’d see her the next day. And I left. I was tired when I arrived home.
The next day, Tuesday, I kept my promise and drove the 60 miles to see her again. But she wasn’t in her kennel when I arrived. My Motherly instincts kicked in and I went back to the front desk to find out where she was. She was on a ‘meet and greet’ with another family! I was so upset… She is my dog! They informed me that until she is formally adopted after her surgery that they can still continue to ‘show’ her and can also put two more ‘holds’ on her. When the attendant opened the door to the room that she was in (with the other family!), I said “There she is; that’s her!” Guess who came trotting over to the doorway? Mercedes. Yes, I am sure that she remembered my voice from the day before! She is a very smart dog! I told the attendant “Please tell that family not to get too attached to her. She is my dog and she WILL be going home with ME as soon as she can leave.” That dog was not going to go home with anyone but me!
I waited for the other family to be finished with MY DOG, and then I got to sit with her again and hold her and sing to her and talk to her. We had some more bonding time together and I got a lot of my questions answered. I told her goodby and the next time I’d see her, she would be going home with me. “Now get in your bed and go to sleep, Mercedes. I’ll pick you up on Thursday.” She had surgery scheduled for Wednesday and I would not be able to see her that day as she would need to rest quietly ‘in the back’ that day and night. I could complete the adoption process when I came to get her on Thursday.
February 24, 2011
Doggie Diary I
As you know, I have been looking for a little Bichon or Poodle mix puppy. I say puppy, but I am really wanting an older dog… maybe around 3 – 8 years old. I have just missed out on 3 dogs over the last month and so when I saw one online last Friday I made arrangements to go and see her on Sunday.
Saturday night I cleaned the house one last time, got the new dog bed ready, got the doggie dishes out and set up in their own special spot in the kitchen, laid my clothes out for the next day and went to bed early so I could get up and go to early church before I went for the meet and greet scheduled for noon. I cleared my Sunday afternoon schedule so I would have all afternoon getting acquainted with her.
Sunday morning, I got up early and checked my emails before church and there it was –the disappointing email. The person could not meet with me that day. Oh she gave what she thought was a good excuse, but it raised another red flag with me. Yes, I had a couple of red flags go up during my previous contacts (phone & email) with her; but I persevered because I wanted a little rescue doggie.
She told me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to see the dog, that I could drive over 2 hours to see her to Longview, Washington. I took her up on this challenge and we made arrangements to meet the following day – last Monday.
Monday morning dawned bright and cold and beautiful and I was ready for the trek to another state! I had asked a good friend who lives in Longview to meet me for the doggie meet and greet and he agreed. I am so glad that he was there to give his input and just to listen to what I was trying to process. Well, this dog was a mess. She was covered in fleas, filthy dirty, had an infected breast, and growled at me! The rabies tag said that she was a tan and black yorkie terrier, not the white bichon that the person had stated online and to me personally. Needless to say I did not take the dog and I was glad that I had paid attention to those red flags.
My friend and I had a great visit over lunch and after lunch he insisted that we stop by the local Humane Society to look at the dogs there. After looking at the dogs, we stopped by the front desk to ask about the rescue person that I had been in contact with . As I said her name to the lady at the front desk, the Shelter Director stopped short in his conversation with someone else and turned toward us and came over to answer our inquiry about this private rescue person. He took us over to his private desk where he told us an earful about the deplorable conditions at that private rescue where the dogs were kept. Then he took us to the 2 private parts of the Humane Society where little dogs were kept! No match, but a much better feeling about the way those dogs were cared for and treated.
I bid my friend good-by and got in the car without a doggie, for the drive home. As I mentioned the ride was beautiful and the friendship fun, so the day was not wasted at all. But I was tired when I got home!
February 8, 2011
See’s Candies

Have you ever heard of See’s Candies? If you live in California, I know that you have! Ever since I was a child, these were the chocolates of choice in our house. When I moved to the Midwest, my Father always sent me a custom packed box for Christmas. It was a present that I shared carefully and when those Midwesterners would turn their noses up at my white box with the classic black lettering because it wasn’t Fanny Farmer candy, I didn’t insist at all! More for me!!!
Pre-packaged boxes of See’s Candy are now readily available at airports and I have even seen them in a furniture store! But for the true Mary See’s Candy experience one must personally visit a See’s Candy Shop and view all of the confections set out beautifully before you. Oh they make it so difficult to decide, but then a few samples are also given to help you make your decisions.
Recently I was invited to stay with a friend who lives on the Big Island of Hawaii. She is a California girl who has adapted beautifully to island living. The entire island lifestyle suits her so perfectly and she has blossomed into a beautiful vibrant woman and I feel that this would have never happened in the confines of the concrete living of Southern California. Well, I pondered what could I possibly take to her that she would enjoy that is not available in the islands? You guessed it! A box of delicious, famous See’s Candy! She was thrilled when I presented it to her and only one who has been denied these delicious chocolates can understand the thoughtfulness of this gift.
By the way, the likeness of Mary See on the Box and in the shops reminds me of my beautiful Grandmother…..
February 6, 2011
Bedtime Stories
Sometimes at night, just before I fall asleep, a story will come into my mind. I “write” the entire story there in my sleepy head and wonder if I should get out of bed, turn on the computer and get it down in solid form before I forget it. Then I say, “No, it’s too good of a story. I’ll remember it.”
But when morning comes…. I don’t remember even what the subject matter was!
February 4, 2011
The Red Key
In our neighborhood, the mail is delivered to a central mailbox where the residents retrieve their mail from their individual locked box with a tiny metal key. On the side of this group of mailboxes are two large boxes that remain unlocked.
These two larger boxes are where the mailperson deposits oversized mail or packages for any one of the residents in the neighborhood. The larger box is then locked by the mailperson with a large red key. The red key is then put into the mailbox of the person to whom the mail belongs. So when you open your little mailbox and you see the red key, you know that you have something special in one of the bigger mailboxes!
As I approach the bank of mailboxes, I always look to see if one of the red keys is missing, because that means that it is inside someone’s mailbox. My heart starts to race a little. Will it be in my mailbox? Did I order a product from somewhere? Will I have a ‘present’ from someone? What will it be?
And I have noticed that lately the red key is more often than not in my mailbox!!!
Oh, the simple things of life that thrill us!
February 2, 2011
Digger Cake
My delightful Grandson turned three over the weekend and I had the honor of making his birthday cake. He loves diggers and construction vehicles of all kinds so when my neighbor showed me a picture of a “Digger Cake”, I was ready to bake!
It took me most of one afternoon going around to various stores to find all the different candies that were required for the cute construction of this cake. I didn’t want to have enormous amounts of candy left over, so my Daughter-in-law suggested that I buy what I needed from the bulk bins at a local store. That worked out great because I could purchase the exact colors of gumdrops and M&M’s that were needed for the cake.
The tires are made of chocolate covered mini-doughnuts and some of the digger parts are made of twinkies, but I substituted chocolate mini cakes instead.
Since there were going to be over 20 people at the party, I decided to make a sheet cake (chocolate of course) for the base. After I covered the cake in chocolate icing, I added ‘dirt’ (crushed up oreos) making a realistic base for the digger. The cute little yellow digger then sat proudly on top of the dirt with the candles sticking out of the gumdrop lights on the top!
It was pretty cute!
January 28, 2011
Fog in the Valley of Memories
Here in Portland, we have had a rather mild winter compared to the rest of the country. Yes, we did have some bitter cold during December, but with the lengthening of the days (so important at Northern latitudes – you in So Cal have no idea!) and the promise of a week of no rain, our Portlander spirits are rising!
And then what happens? The wind stops blowing and all the moisture that has accumulated in the ground begins to move upward and evaporate. And then with the night-time cool down we have been experiencing a LOT of fog the last several mornings. Mind you, I am not complaining…. Daytime temps are in the 50′s and one almost doesn’t even need to wear a jacket when you go out. Well, maybe a lightweight jacket, but not the necessary heavy coats of November & December!
I do not remember this type of fog occurring in the Midwest. Yet is is familiar to me and brings back memories of long ago. When I look out my bank of windows, I am reminded of foggy mornings at my Southern California High School. We wore uniforms. A beautifully styled grey straight skirt with 4 kick pleats (2 in the front, 2 in the back) and the omnipresent white uniform blouse which was topped with a navy letterman sweater. On especially cold mornings we would not even wear a coat, (it was southern California after all!) but would put another sweater under our uniform sweater for added warmth! That way we still had the required ‘uniform’ look, but were still warm in the morning and would be able to shed the under sweater as the day warmed up. And so those high school mornings are what I see when I look out my windows at the fog today.
PS: I always thought adding one sweater under another was a really cool trick! Or should I say a really ‘warm’ trick! Tee Hee!
Portland Firefly is in a great mood today! For those who are wondering I am feeling well!
January 24, 2011
Chiron
Today I was trying to read through some correspondence – mostly magazines that have been accumulating since last April!
I picked up one old issue and glanced at my horoscope. I do not read my horoscope and do not put trust in it. It was just a matter of curiosity.
When it said “with Chiron in your sign”, I immediately wondered if there was a new planet that I have not heard about. It turns out that Chiron is a comet.
“
Chiron is a comet with a unique and erratic orbit. In the natal chart, Chiron is symbolized by the “wounded healer”. It represents our deepest wound, and our efforts to heal the wound. Chiron was named after the centaur in Greek mythology who was a healer and teacher who, ironically, could not heal himself.
Chiron in our natal charts points to where we have healing powers as the result of our own deep spiritual wounds. We may over-compensate in these areas of life. Chiron, as a wounded healer, first must face issues of low self-worth and feelings of inadequacy and learn to rise above these issues. Because the wound goes deep, and we may work hard to overcome the wound, healing powers are potent.”
Recently, I wrote a post titled Love Letter Walls about the wounding of my loving heart. One of my readers wrote that perhaps this has been brought to my attention because God wants the healing to begin in this part of my life. I don’t disagree.
But I was amazed at the coincidence of the meaning of this comet (which I have never head of before today) and the deep emotional work that I have been doing.
January 19, 2011
January 19th Birthday
Today is my Aunt’s 89th Birthday. She deserves to be acknowledged because she is a true survivor. She took care of her Alzheimer’s afflicted husband. She survived breast cancer, lung cancer and many other minor ailments. Her mind is still very sharp and she has a will to live that is envied.
So Happy Birthday to you, Auntie, Happy Birthday to you!
January 18, 2011
Love Letter Walls
I was just reading over some old love letters that I had written several years ago and I was amazed at the depth of passion that I had conveyed in them. A depth of passion that I had even forgotten existed.
Is it possible that I have been so hurt that the walls I have built have erased even the memory of the depth of passion I once felt? I think that is exactly what has happened. The pain that was inflicted on my sweet, tender, giving, loving soul and heart was so brutal and unexpected. I built up such strong and massive and tall walls against the hurt of painful love that I am taken aback by the strength of those walls.
I am moved to tears. I am moved to tears for the loss of love in my life. I am moved to tears by the unfairness of it all. I am moved to tears by the realization that years of protecting walls may have now become permanent and unmovable. I am moved to tears by the loss of that beautiful, open, willing, trusting person I once was. She is gone, Perhaps she is gone forever. And for me, that is the saddest thing of all. That sweet, loving, forever young woman is not to be seen with joy and love dancing in her heart.
Sometimes life seems so unfair. The tears flow, the facade has cracked, but the walls stand secure and strong as ever. Because that is only what allows this woman to carry on daily.
January 6, 2011
Shhh, I’m sleeping
One of my great joys in life is putting my precious Grandson down for his nap or bedtime. The other night, was one of those special evenings for me. He looked so precious in his little blue and white striped footed jammies with his blond curls bouncing. I took him into the bedroom and he drank his milk in his sippy cup while I read him two books. He interrupts constantly asking a hundred questions ~ all of which he already knows the answers! Then I start singing to him. I have about 6 or 7 songs that I always sing and then over Christmas I started adding in some Christmas carols, too. I always finish up with the same song. Then I tell him (again) how much his Nonni loves him and I put him in his crib. Don’t forget the kisses!!! And then he has to be covered up with his three blankets. One more “Good night, my precious. Your Nonni loves you so much” and then I quietly close the door behind me.
His parents and I were visiting in the living room and I could hear him talking. My son went over to his bedroom door to better hear what the tiny voice was saying. “People should be quiet when someone is trying to go to sleep.” Then a little bit later on we heard (in a little bit louder voice) “People should be EXTRA quiet when someone is trying to sleep.” I guess we were keeping him awake…..
I could hardly keep from laughing loudly, but of course I had to “be EXTRA quiet.” And he isn’t even three years old yet!!!
December 21, 2010
Just Too Cute
This is the digital version of The Nativity. It will make you smile!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkHNNPM7pJA&feature=player_embedded
December 19, 2010
Ladies Who Do Dinner
At the church that I attend, there is a care-team that is to assist those in need. The new co-ordinator, Suzie has done a fabulous job. She called me and asked what they could do to help me get through my chemo. I requested prayers and said that food preparation is often tiring and time consuming for me especially during the first week after my chemo.
She really had the women of the church come through for me! She had someone at my doorstep every single night for a solid week. I was like the doggies in Pavolov’s trials. When it started getting dark (about 4:30 here in the Pacific northwest) I would start listening for the doorbell to ring for supper!
And then the 8th night a neighbor whom I had not met and who also attends my church called me ‘just to see if I might like some pasta salad.’ I love pasta salad! And I love meeting lovely nighbors!
And so, Portland Firefly is very grateful to all the great cooks who took care of not only my spiritual needs but also my physical needs while my poor battered body is trying to win this war.
A big thank you to “The Ladies Who Do Dinner” for others!
December 8, 2010
Zoned Out Interruption
Our Lady of Lourdes appearing at Lourdes with Rosary beads.
Last weekend, my Son and daughter-in-law came over for a meal. Earlier in the week, I had set some items on the opposite end of the dining room table and never bothered to move them. My Grandson was entranced by a little rosary of colorful beads that was given to me by my friend Chris before she died and I let him look at it and hold it.
After lunch, my lovely Daughter-in-law was in the middle of telling a story and I just interrupted her and started talking about the little rosary on the table. During the meal, it kept crying out for my attention, and I guess I just finally zoned out and seeing the rosary there made me think of Chris and how she went to Lourdes (a holy shrine for Catholics) and she brought this little rosary back from Lourdes as a special gift for me. She bathed in the holy waters there three consecutive days… looking for the miracle of a cure from this terrible cancer. She didn’t get the cure of course and then she died. My mind just totally wandered into that place and I just started talking about it, interrupting the ongoing conversation.
I will say that my Son and his wife just politely sat there and listened to what I was saying and when I had finished, she went on with her story. They never mentioned that perhaps I shouldn’t have interrupted. I think they totally understood that something important had happened to me.
But what did happen? I know better than to interrupt someone. I knew that I was interrupting and I just kept talking. But I guess the emotional connection to that gift was so strong that I couldn’t put it out of my mind and that my heart needed to relieve the pain associated with the gift by talking about it. All of the time, my mind of course thinking, “How long do I have? When will I die? Will it be sooner or later? Will I have a good report at my Doctor’s visit this week?” And on and on and on……. And this ‘zoning-out’ may occur more frequently as I continue my long journey from this Earth into Eternity.
“Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.” My heart was just so full, that I had to say something. And at that minute. Thank goodness for polite children!
November 4, 2010
4:44 am
Back in January, 1981, Portland Firefly was awakened three consecutive nights at the exact same time. I know the exact time because we had a new digital alarm clock and I would open my eyes, being wide awake, staring at the time on the clock ~~ 4:44 am.
Since my children were small, I was immediately concerned for their safety since I could not make any sense of why I should suddenly be awakened, fully alert, at such a strange hour of the morning. I did what any conscientious Mother would do. I got up and dutifully checked each precious child to make sure they were alright, still breathing and covered up from the chilly night’s air in our remodeled civil war constructed home.
The first night, they were fine. The second night, they were fine. The third night, they were fine.
On the fourth night, as we were readying to go to bed after an evening of TV watching, I made the comment to my husband that I sure hoped that I would not be awakened again at 4:44 in the morning like I had been for the last three mornings. He asked me “What time did you say you woke up?” I replied “4:44 am. It is really strange that it is at the exact same time every night for the last three nights. Not 4:43, not 4:45, but 4:44 am. It is kind of eerie.”
I could tell that I had his complete undivided attention and I could see his mind turning as he experienced an ‘ah-ha moment’. He gave me the strangest look as he intently asked, ”What were we doing tonight?” I said (with the tiredness of an exhausted working mother), “Watching TV.”
He countered with, “ But WHAT were we watching on TV?” I replied, “We’ve been watching the news all night.”
Again, he said, “ WHAT on the news were we watching?” Getting tired of this not fun game, I replied, “The American hostages coming home.”
From his reaction, I could tell that this was the correct answer to his line of questioning, but even thought the ‘light-bulb’ went on for him, I was still in the dark. Not willing to give up so easily, he pursued with ” Yes, we watched the hostages come home. How long were they held?”
I wearily replied, ”Four Hundred Fourty-Four …. oh… days….. Oh! 444!”
He smiled at me as he realized that I had discovered the significance of my awakening for the last three nights at 4:44 am. I had been waking up at exactly 4:44 am for the three nights prior to the Iran hostages being released from captivity after their 444 days of ordeal.
This is a true story. This conversation was held on the evening of January 20, 1981, just hours after President Ronald Regan had taken the oath of office of President of the United States and the Iran hostages were released shortly thereafter.
This crisis has been described as the “pivotal episode” in the history of Iran-US relations. In the U.S., some political analysts believe the crisis was a major reason for President Jimmy Carter’s defeat in the November 1980 presidential election. In Iran, the crisis strengthened the prestige of the Ayatollah Khomeini and the political power of those who supported theocracy and opposed any normalization of relations with the West. The crisis also marked the beginning of U.S. legal action, or economic sanctions against Iran that further weakened economic ties between Iran and the United States.
For more information on the Iran Hostage Crisis go to : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iran_hostage_crisis
October 7, 2010
Visable Angels
Have you ever seen an angel? I don’t mean a person that you thought was as beautiful as an angel, or someone who you thought was as kind, sweet and loving as an angel. I mean an actual angel.
Portland Firefly has.
Oh, they don’t look like angels with wings and all that. They look like you and me. How do I know that I saw angels? I just know.
I have seen them many times, but there are two occasions that I’ll tell you about. The first one was just after a dangerous December ice storm in Missouri and the second one was when we went ‘swift watching’ here in Portland this year.
I had just arrive at the Kansas City airport about 11:30 pm after a 4 day trip on a bitter, cold, windy December night. Kansas City had one of its worst ice storms ever and the doors of my car were frozen shut under the 1 to 2 inch layer of ice. The parking lot and streets were treacherous. Fortunately, the storm came in from the north, so the car door that was on the south side (away from the brutal blast of the storm) had probably only less than 1/2 inch of ice on it. That was the passenger door, so I had to struggle to get it open and then I had to climb over the center console on my mid-sized cougar while wearing my Flight Attendant uniform. And I always wore skirts with high heels, so it was not an easy task!
After getting into the car and getting it started, I then had to break the ice off of the encased trunk so I could get my crew kit inside the car. Next came the task of trying to clean the ice off of the windshield. When I tried to open the driver’s door from inside the car by pushing out, it finally opened with the loud cracking sound of ice breaking and then falling to the ground in big shards.
The car started and finally I was on my way home. The main highways were very clear and I tried to picture which roads would be the most traveled and therefore the safest way home for me after leaving the main highway. I did really well until I got to one particular intersection not far from home. This road went down a slight incline to a very busy intersection. Isn’t it funny how you never notice whether a street is hilly or not when the weather is good? Well, this was not a good choice, but it was too late to change my mind now. I slowly started down the incline to the intersection and my car promptly veered sharply to the right and did a complete 180! I was now at the mercy of the icy road wrapped inside my cougar cocoon praying that the car would stop before it ended in the middle of the waiting intersection. Well, it did stop, but now it was facing the wrong direction on an icy hill. I started to panic. I didn’t know what to do, so I started to open the door and look around to evaluate my situation. The road appeared to be deserted. It was after all midnight or later. I was getting a little bit scared and afraid that a rogue vehicle might come over the top of the hill too fast to stop and hit me and my car.
And that is when three angels approached my car. These three tall strong young men came from nowhere and asked if they could help me. Help me! Yes! Well, I don’t know how they did it, but they turned that heavy car around on that icy hill and got me safely headed to my next street. They then disappeared just as mysteriously as they had appeared in the first place.
I could see that the roads were going to be impassable for me and I was so shaken up (not to mention exhausted after a long trip) that I started looking for a place to park my car for the rest of the night. There was a nearby strip mall that I was able to drive to and park my car. I called my neighbor who had 4 wheel drive to come and pick me up and take me the rest of the way home.
This happened more than 15 years ago, but I have never forgotten those three angels who helped me out!
Now for the second time that I’ll relay to you.
It was this year and it was our annual family outing to see the Vaux Swifts here in Portland. We had just arrived and were scoping out our spot for the spectacular viewing when I saw them. They looked like an ordinary Portland couple standing there at the bottom of the hill next to the school. She had very short vibrant purple hair the same color that mine was just before I lost it due to Chemo. She was elegantly dressed and was pointing in my direction, showing him something. They were engrossed in their conversation. I would have never taken note of them if she had not had that same color of vibrant purple hair that I had before I lost all of mine due to chemo. And it was short as mine is now along with being purple, so how could I not notice her…..
They were unusual because they had no blanket, no jackets, no picnic basket, no lawn chairs ~ all of which most people bring to this event. Portland Firefly noticed that she didn’t even carry a purse as they easily walked up the steep hill. They then stood off to the side and behind our little group and were looking directly at me. Our eyes met across the crabgrass covered lawn and they both nodded to me. She looked directly at me and gave me a comforting smile that was also encouraging. She was calm, secure, confident and he was too. I felt a peace when I saw them together watching me. I had the feeling that her mission with me was finished and she was handing me off to him as my protector making sure that he knew exactly who I was.
You may draw your own conclusions about these two events as you wish. But Portland Firefly has her own perception of what happened and she prefers to think that there really is “someone watching over me.”
As I grow closer to the things of the next world, I can’t help to but to think that God is answering many of my prayers by tying up the loose ends of my life. He has given me many special gifts over this last year and I’ll mention them one day.