WHO ARE YOU?

When I was growing up, my mother wanted to have a cute little girl dressed in pink and doing ballet - someone just like her granddaughter, my neice, who was a year older than I was, and was blonde, petite and blue-eyed with ringlets.

Unfortunately, instead, she got me instead.

Tonight a friend and I were discussing her Type A... well, perhaps Type A++ compulsive need - perhaps obsession - to have every part of her life to be clean, organized, and in alphabetical, color and tonal order.

She said she envied people like me who can "let go."

And it made me realize once again how many years it has taken me to get here - to be able to "let go."

 

To not have to have things immaculate.

To not worry about things I have no control over.

To not try to be someone I'm not.
 
And not envy those who seem to remain 'focused' and intent and get things down but at the cost of high blood pressure, tension, and the inability to relax.

To paraphrase a very old expression, I don't think anyone of their deathbed is going to wish they had spent more time cleaning the kitchen floor.

 
So I'm okay with less than clean floors (heck, I have two dogs - they're pretty DIRTY floors regardless of what I do), dust on almost anything, a bathtub that is non-gracefully degrading into a permanent yellow shade, and a porch that is rarely (if ever) swept.

Because I have a good relationships with all three of my kids, I have low blood pressure, and I can take naps almost anytime I wish to. And with my dogs.

I'm okay being me.

"AS YOU WISH"

"The Princess Bride" did not fare well when out in the theaters, but rapidly became a cult classic when released first on VHS and later on DVD, and will continue to be in the next two years when it is upgraded to the new Blue-Ray/Laser-Vision/Something-New-That-Will-Cost-All-Us-A-Lot-Of-Money-To-Swith-Over-To-But-Will-Also-Change-In-The Next-Few-Years-Regardless.

I am constantly amazed by how many people are impossibly familiar with  the dialog from this movie, however. It might simply be that it's become a favorite of LDS families - I mean, true love, clean lanuage, and the closest the movie comes to nudity is with Wesley stripped to the waist while on The Machine - and I end up hanging out with a lot of other Latter-Day Saints.

 

In fact, a friend of mine posted on Facebook one line from the movie, which then was posted by another person... and it kept going for an incredibly long time.

Like "Inconceivable!" -- The Cliffs of Insanity -- "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya" -- the Fire Swamp and the R.O.U.S.s -- and my absolute favorite, "As You Wish."

I think it's significant that the first "As You Wish"es (is there any other way to write that?) were from Wesley when he was still "Farm Boy," and Buttercup was ordering him around like a slave.

This is extremely backwards thinking, so bear with me - but it makes me think of how we might at first be responding to God's commandments out of a feeling of obligation, as a threat.

But then we (hopefully) realize that God only gives us commandments in order to bless us, to show His love for us.

As you wish,

Can you follow that convoluted reasoning?

And if you can, could you please explain it back to me now?

THE GREAT ESCAPE

Some of us as we get older slow down some.

For instance, I used to be able to run at a eight minute pace.... for about 20 feet. And now I can walk... for about 20 feet before I need to stop for breath.

Anyway, my mare, Sally, is a Thoroughbred, who are normally fairly fast - they've been breed for racing.

And did you know that Quarter Horses were originally bred for racing? Just shorter sprints - a quarter mile - which is where the name came from.

And I think that Sally did race at one time; her upper inside lip is tattooed. No, not with a rose or "Semper Fit", silly, but with registration numbers, which normally are only for racers.

So although she is somewhere in her late twenties, Sally can still run faster than my eight-year-old gelding... at least when she really really wants something.

But most of the time, she is the stately grande dame gazing at the horizon.

Unwittingly, today I pushed her right over the edge.

It's been the first day warm enough for me to wear shorts, and I felt sorry for my hot, sweating horses. It's still cold enough at night (low 40's) that they both still have fairly think coats, so I got the water hose out to soak them.

Sally loves getting hosed down - I think it brings back memories of the track, because she gets very flighty, prancing around and acting like a young filly.

Najale, my horse, absolutely detests water cascading over his back... or his sides... or his anything. But he will put up with it, under loud protest, because if Sally enjoys it, he is going to enjoy it, damn it.

But then, three hours later, when I went back into the pasture, Sally, still under the influence of cold water, simply bolted out from the gate and went on a merry tirade of gallovating around the house.

Normally I can catch Sally fairly easily, even when she gets out of her own, but today? No way. Until the creaks and groans of her older bones slowed her down and forced her to meekly make her way back home.

Whew. More exercise than I planned on for myself.

LEVELS OF JOY

Most of us have an inner child.

Some of us are born old souls.

However, please let me describe the ranges of age displayed by my 28 year old daughter in about six hours today:

Age 2: Sheer and complete joy when told you are going to a movie.

Age 6: The frustration of trying to get both shoes on while someone is waiting for you.

Age 9: Pride at being able to purchase a movie ticket on your very own.

Age 13:  Beginning to cry when mommy won't give you enough to buy popcorn also.

Age 15: Embarrasment by your mom picking you up outside the mall after the movie ends.

Age 18: Telling your mom the movie's entire plot to the point of being annoying.

Age 14: Trying to defend the disaster that your apartment is in, and mom has been cleaning the entire time you've been at the movie.

Age 10: Putting away, with loud and violent protest, five items mom had left for you to take care of.

Age 4: Dissolving into tears when being told what must be cleaned up before tomorrow.

I feel as though I have aged years.

COMMUNITY

A group of people can all want the exact same thing, but nothing happens.

A smaller group of people within the larger group can take the initiative, and some things will begin to happen.

And in the best case scenerio, a handful of people take charge, and wonderful things do happen.

I am lucky enough to live in an area where this last action happened.

And for once I was NOT one of those take-charge people.

Whew.

THE BORDER SONG

(This is an old Elton John song that I think you have to be a true fan to know. But that's an entirely different posting, isn't it?)

Driving home, where I live three miles from the fence between the U.S. and Mexico, I was passing the regular staged Border Patrol vehicles off the highway, and watched the flood lights on the border fence on the horizon.

And I realized a lot of you don't have any idea what happens down here regularly. So I thought I'd enlighten you.

Large brush fires are set, deliberately, on both the Mexican and U.S. sides of the border to distract from groups of illegals crossing or drugs being packed in. I live in what is called high-chaparal - lots of yucca and mesquite and grasses - and most of it burns pretty easily and pretty fast.

If the fire is is Mexico, it is left alone until it burns out, without any attempt to control. If it's on the U.S. side, it is tackled only when buildings or homes are endangered.

Huge groups of people are sent over from Mexico simply to engage the Border Patrol with processing all of them so a drug shipment can get through some other point on the border.

Drugs are packed into tires, fake gas tanks, truck shipments and diaper bags to get across regular check-points.

People,  who have already been walking for days to get to Northern Mexico, cross the border, ill-prepared for summer heat, winter freezing, with no water, little food and often abandoned by their coyote (human smuggler). So much of the time they are relieved to be caught and sent back.

The Border Patrol use trucks, helicopters, drones, and horses to track what comes from Mexico. They work all hours, day and night, get shot at, are physically attacked, have rocks thrown at them, and are subject to all sorts of legal actions if they injure or kill someone while trying to defend their lifes.

People come from Mexico cross to work at far-below-minimum-wage jobs, that have no safety inspections, no government regulations, no union backup, no medical or health plan. They live in shacks, or stuffed in small apartments with as many people as can be stuffed into them. They work as many hours per day as they can, with no overtime pay.

And they send most if not all of their paycheck home to feed their children in Mexico.

There is no easy solution to the problem - in fact, I don't think there is ANY answer until Mexico cleans up their government and gets rid of the drug czars... and I have no idea how they can possible do that - every town has corrupt officials, drug traffic which brings in most of the town's money, and people who are executed regularly and their bodies put on public display.

And as long as companies in the U.S. will hire the illegals, and people in the U.S. will pay for drugs, it ain't gonna stop down here.

There aren't any easy answers, and there won't be, regardless of what the politicans promise.

Just thought you'd like to know.

BANG BANG MY BABY SHOT ME DOWN

One of the most feared attacks in the animal kingdom is from a mama bear who is separated from her cub.

And yesterday, my mama-bear hackles were risen (did rise? rose?) when one of my baby bears was put in danger - there was a shooting right outside her apartment.

Joy lives in a apartment complex, which isn't in the worst section of town (which here is anything west of Seventh St.), but it also isn't a very classy place (because I have to pay the rent).

A lot of lower-income, blue collar employees - quite a few military/transient occupants (sidebar here - I hate hate hate the word "transient" - I think I read "Grapes of Wrath" way too many times), so people in and out every couple of months.

But no matter where you live nowadays, there can be drugs being sold or exchanged - people can become violent - and gun-toting-friendly Arizona, there can be shootings.

Some good came from the incident - Joy learned that she should call 911 before me in any sort of emergency - she understands now that when you hear a gun going off, you do NOT go outside on the balcony to see what is happening - and no, you don't get sent to jail for calling the police and then someone does not get arrested.

Mama bear's fur is still slightly ruffled, but my growling is getting quieter.