The Endless Question

No, I am not referring to "To be or not to be..." There are many other questions that we face during our lifetimes. Each one may be answered in a different way. We each make the choices that we feel are the best at the time and place in our lives.

One that returns to haunt me is "Does the end justify the means?" The longer I live, the more I attempt to answer that question for me and try not to judge others who opt for another road to follow. Individuals and groups face the same dilemma.

The latest one to slam me was when I read this paragraph in a magazine: "In May, the Conservancy began selling credits for those carbon reductions to companies looking to offset their own emissions. The resulting funds will be reinvested in conservation and forest-restoration work in the reserve."

Now I know that this carbon exchanging exists, but to read these words from a supposedly reputable environmental organization, set my stomach churning and my head aching.

From individuals stealing from one entity to help another, to large organizations fudging on their taxes or covering up safety issues, or making land trades to oil companies in order to save forests for our environment, I pause and mull over, "Does that end justify the means?"

Ouch! There are often no easy answers. In the end, what it often comes down to is individual consciences struggling through a decision. From me, an individual, to a huge corporation answering to its stockholders, we face that question and slog our way through to an end result. At times it involves compromise, at other times we know clearly. It may be black or white. It may bring negative repercussions. It may change the world. It may prevent someone from starvation.

No one said life would be easy. Well, it never is to those with a conscience. From Victor Hugo struggling through his characters in Les Miserables to Greece and the European Union, decisions are made that can affect an individual or a country, for better or worse.

Perhaps it is through each struggle that we enrich our own understanding and character to aid us in the road taken next. I don't have an answer for anyone else. I will only speak for myself. At times I may choose the darker side, as I have in the past.

During my time left to me I genuinely hope I say more farewells to the murkier decisions. Making what I believe is the best choice can have an unforeseen negative affect, which, in turn, may lead to another choice.

Sigh....I think it is time for a vacation.

Well, VA Police?????

LET ME OUT! 

Readers of previous blogs will know that I tried twice to get the VA police to arrest me. I crossed the picket line to enter the VA property bearing signs that were a witness to the treachery of the federal government against our veterans who served our country and were promised health care when they needed it. If you want to know of all the promises they broke, you can check past blogs. My last book, Reveille in Hot Springs: the Battle to Save our VA is also a testimonial to the deceptions of our government who sent them, but would not mend them.

If you care about what they are doing to our veterans, you can also check out www.theveteranstown.com.

Many of us, veterans and non-veterans are still fighting to save our VA in Hot Springs, a community that helps in the healing of veterans suffering from PTSD or other emotional issues. It is the same old story of David vs Goliath. This time the ending may be different.

So my husband, Bob, locked me in our very old historical jail in downtown Hot Springs. "You are locked up for trespassing on federal property", he scolded me. "You are siding with the veterans against big government."

Very funny, Bob. Is it really a joke? Sadly, in truth, veterans are losing something they hold dear and this blogger cannot even get arrested to get some media attention to our cause. Of course not. I am not a veteran and I was told that I am "too high maintenance. The VA cannot afford to lock me up!"

What I do know is that the federal government cannot afford to cut services for our veterans. In the long run they are going to regret what they are doing today, someday.

Someday may not be during my lifetime, but someday will arrive.....someday.

(Photo courtesy of Tom Gulbranson)

Bob to the Rescue

"Phone for you, Bob."

Friday morning in Hot Springs, SD. One of the renters of the building that Bob manages was calling.

After Bob's inspection of a water leak that slithered in next to the chimney in the apartment after weeks of almost constant rain, he dubbed it too wet to repair at the time. He needed it to dry out before he could caulk it and complete the repairs.

Not long after we came home I was retuning from the neighbors when I heard a strange sound.

"Squawk, squawk!" The unfamiliar sound came from our garden. Then I heard another sort of odd scream. It sounded near our chicken pen. I walked into our garden and found Bob on his knees talking to something hidden in the tall grasses.

"Come on, you stupid chicken. You got in there so help me get you out." Bob was carefully trying to move the chicken who was solidly stuck between the fence and the chicken pen. One thing I know about my husband after many years of marriage, is that he is patient in trying to solve a dilemma and will examine the situation carefully and, in the end, right the problem.

And he did. The chicken was rescued and without so much as a thank you she fussed and clucked her way back to the pen and disappeared into the coop. Bob re-righted the fence he had taken apart to release the trapped chicken and fenced off the hole that the chicken had blasted her way through. He then continued his mowing and other spring yard work chores.

I thought back to the numerous times during our lives together when Bob had fixed, repaired, mended, altered, shaped, developed things that made my life or the lives of friends and neighbors easier. Stuff is manageable with Bob around. He studies the problem and, if at all possible, solves it in his careful, deliberate manner.

One thing that stands out is his invention of an automatic cat feeder that was set to go off twice a day while we were on a trip. The neighbor, who checked in on our cats, just in case, stopped off at those times each day to view the cats waiting eagerly at the feeder for the allotted food to pour out.

Friends and neighbors who are aware of Bob's talents are also grateful to have Bob come to their aid, be it fixing a motorcycle or correcting a lock. If someone says, "It can't be done", Bob sees that as a challenge. I remember a visit to my Aunt Marie in Indiana in her home filled with a multitude of chiming clocks, sent to her over the years by her son. One unique, German Flying Pendulum clock was stopped. "I brought it to several clock professionals and none could fix it," she sighed. She said the magic words and during that long summer afternoon as my aunt and I admired family photos and shared stories, Bob worked on that clock. By evening it was ticking along with the rest of the cuckoos and chimers while its pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth.

"How wonderful", said my grateful aunt. When I die I want you to have the clock." Of course a year later another relative stopped, admired that clock and left Aunt Marie's home with it under his arm.

No matter. I have the most comforting and reassuring of gifts. I share my life with a man who continues to fix and invent whatever needs arise. I am blessed far more with this man at my side than sharing a wall space with an imported German clock.

Raining Cats and Dogs

"It isn't raining rain you know, it's raining violets."

That old song has sung its refrain in my head too often the past month. Don't get me wrong. We do live in high desert and that follows we live through many forest fires. My second book was all about a horrendous fire we experienced here in 2007 on 7/7/7 after seven years of drought. It changed our lives and I suffered PTSD for years after. So, that should mean that I welcome the rains. And, in truth, I do. Everything is green. We do not have to water our emerging plants in the garden. Our long unwatered lawn has recovered from mainly weeds and dirt to actual grass and green weeds.

On the other hand, one of the reasons we moved here was because of the weather.....more sun and low humidity. Now I am beginning to feel like a mushroom. Some days I want to shout, "Enough already!"

And so, I welcome the rains filling our lakes and aquifers, renewing plants long sleeping in the dry earth, and softening my dreams, no longer filled with smoke and fear. On the other hand.....

Oh, yes, we who live in this corner of paradise are grateful we do not have the flooding and storms challenging other areas. So stop complaining already!!

Then today I received a large envelope in the mail. It was from my granddaughter. She enjoys drawing and spends much of her time with her paper and colored pencils. She sent a drawing that was titled "It's Raining Cats and Dogs! Happy Spring Grandpa and Grandma."

Cats and dogs are falling from the sky, two with parachutes and one dog landing on its head. The grass is long and green and Bob is standing to the side with his hands on his head, mouth opened wide, shouting AHH!

Of course this grandpa and grandma chuckled at this gift from a long-distance grand daughter who shared her feelings about our situation.

Welcome rains. The long drought is over for now. The thunder rolls in the distance, the lightning lights up the sky, the rain spatters on the windows, the alley cats have disappeared into some secret shelters, the mushrooms are emerging from the soggy grass, and in my office above my computer, a colorful drawing brings smiles to all who stop by.