Feeding MY Soul: Blog comments
Today, on the day we honor the Wise Men following the star, I got the following comment on a blog entry I wrote back in August, on Buck Naked and the Yemeni Star from PetroOps, no hot link, so maybe he/she is a blogger and maybe not. This kind of comment feeds my soul.
Well that Star is called (Sohail) it is a Yemeni Star because it holds its place on the southern sphere’s sky. so it is to the Yemen side for Kuwait and other GCC countries. on the opposite side there is the (Thoraia – Star) to the northwest of our Sky and that was mentioned together in some poetries as the lovers that will never meet with each others.
I never knew that! I have sort of kept Sohail in mind as a name for the next female cat that comes into my life, and now I can see that the next cat will probably have a brother, whose name will be Thoraia. If those names are male and femaie, and I have assigned the wrong sex (in English, if a name ends in an “a” it is most likely a female name) somebody please clue me in so I don’t make a terrible mistake. Anyway, I don’t see adopting another cat any time soon, as we have our hands full with The Qatteri Cat.
A week after the first Yemeni Star entry, I wrote another, Yemeni Star to which I received all kinds of great informative comments.
A lot of time on blogs, every blog, it is just blah blah blah. What feeds my soul are comments like this one above, and the ones to the Yemeni star entry, comments that add something to my knowledge base, often comments that help me think in a totally new direction. You do that for me, my readers, my commenters. Thank you for delighting my heart.
Freecycle
There was an article within the last few days in the Kuwait Times about Freecycle but this is not the recent article. It was the only article I could fine, from April 2007. The important thing is that it exists, and that setting up a Kuwait freecycle would be of benefit to many.
In the expat community, we do a lot of Freecycle on an informal basis. When we come, people help us out with things, and when we leave, we pass our things along. Sometimes we sell them, but often as not, we give them away and would love for them to fall into the right hands. We all hate waste.
(Oh my gosh! I just went to the Freecycle Website and found the Kuwait group and it has 122 members! Holy Smokes!) Click on the blue type and you can join the Kuwait group, too!
Don’t throw it away, someone might want it
Published Date: April 25, 2007
By Pete May
Our houses are full of them: old computers, fax machines, video players, fridges in the garage, vinyl records, unwanted armchairs – things we don’t want but still work. Research by gumtree.com reveals the British dispose of over £5.6bn worth of usable household items a year, including 1.35m working fridges and freezers, and 2.6m sofas. People out there want our redundant stuff – but how do we find them? A few weeks ago, I tried to shift a 10-year-old Apple Power Mac and a similarly ancient (in computer terms) Mac laptop. Both worked, so to throw them in a skip would have been wasteful and created toxic waste (computers can contain heavy metals and chemicals). I’d checked the likes of Computer Aid International (computeraid.org) and the Community Recycling Network (crn.org.uk). Both accepted PCs, but the words “10-year-old Apple Mac” resulted in polite rejection.
So I tried Freecycle, an online forum where people give away and pick up unwanted stuff, free of charge. It has 4,009 communities worldwide and, according to its online counter, 3,401,532 users. I joined my local group and tentatively posted my message: “Offered: Power Mac with printer and Powerbook laptop, bought in 1997 but working fine, need to be collected.” Within three hours I’d had 30 replies. Suddenly my Macs were seen as a valuable resource. Jenny wanted the laptop for her 11-year-old son who was “a Mac fanatic”, while Julie wanted it for her soon-to-be daughter-in-law; Ben needed computers for his charity in Zimbabwe. It wasn’t easy to decide whom to give them to.
Freecycle etiquette dictates that you don’t necessarily give things to the first emailer – and you must reject anyone you suspect wants to sell the goods. I opted for friendly sounding people who could collect immediately: Andy, who’d been on disability benefit for three years, and Ruth, a cash-starved student. Since then I’ve used Freecycle to shift two fax machines, a Zip drive, an office desk, a child’s desk, a malfunctioning Hoover, some kitchen shelves, a washing machine and my local vicar’s sofa bed. Our fridge-freezer went to a woman with cancer who was on a special diet and needed it for her store of juices. Our rubbish was helping someone fight for life. Then I visited SwapXchange, which offers items to swap from all over the country via its website (swapxchange.org). I exchanged a juicer and a Kenwood mixer for a bottle of organic wine apiece.
(Read the rest of the article by clicking on the BLUE Kuwait Times type, above.)
Pass it along. . . !
“I Sparkle Like a Crystal . . .
. . . when I am with my pistol” sings Annie Oakley, from Annie Get Your Gun. It’s been running through my head ever since I heard about the Kuwait Bloggerettes outing to the shooting range. You’ve seen Megan Mullally on Will and Grace, but here she is, singing Annie’s song and hitting her target dead on:
And here are the lyrics:
Oh my mother was frightened by a shotgun they say
That’s why I’m such a wonderful shot
I’d be out in the cactus and I’d practice all day
And now tell me, what have I got
I’m quick on the trigger
With targets not much bigger than a pinpoint
I’m number one
But my score with a feller
Is lower than a cellar
No you can’t get a man with a gun
When I’m with a pistol
I sparkle like a crystal
Yes I shine like the morning sun
But I lose all my luster when with a crumple buster
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun
With a gun! With a gun!
No you can’t get a man with a gun
If I went to battle with someone’s herd of cattle
You’d have steak when the job was done
But if I shot the herder
They’d holler bloody murder!
And you can’t get a hug from a mug with a slug
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun
I’m cool, brave and darin’
To see a lion glaring when I’m out with my Remmington,
But a look from a mister
Will raise a fever blister
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun
The gals with umbrellers
Are always out with fellers
In the rain or the blazing sun
But a man never trifles with gals who carry rifles
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun
With a gun! With a gun!
No you can’t get a man with a gun
A Tom, Dick, or Harry
Will build a house for Carrie when the preacher has made ’em one
But he can’t build ya houses with buckshot in his trousers
And you can’t shoot a man in the tail like a quail,
Oh, you can’t get a man with a gun
A man’s love is mighty
He’ll even buy a nightie for a gal who he thinks is fun
But they don’t by pajamas for pistol-packin’ mamas!
Oh, a man may be hot, but he’s not
When he’s shot!
Oh you can’t get a man with a gun!
Deadwood
AdventureMan and I are in the midst of a DVD-watching-marathon. Our son packaged up three entire seasons of the HBO show Deadwood, and we are in the middle of season two, now. I had seen occasional episodes now and then on AmericaPlus, here in Kuwait, but what we see here in Kuwait is heavily censored. I made the mistake of watching one episode with my son when I was back in Florida last summer.
Everything was OK (you get de-sensitized to the language after a while) until one very graphic sex scene which sort of happened before we knew it was going to happen. Believe me, there is nothing LESS sexy than watching a graphic sex scene in the same room as your own son. He said it works the same way being in the same room watching with your mother! (no kidding). I never watched another episode with him; couldn’t take that chance, it was just too awful for words.
But watching with AdventureMan, now that is something else entirely.
One of the things I love about the HBO series is that you find the same people appearing as totally different characters in different series, and you start kind of looking for them. For example, Charlie Utter in Deadwood, was also the California drug dealer in John from Cincinnati. Kristin Scott Bell (who will always be Veronica Mars to me) shows up in Deadwood as a young woman with a con game. When she loses, she loses big. Again, this series is both graphic and gruesome, not something to watch with your parents or your children.
(Hard to believe, but that is Kristin Bell as Flora)
Deadwood is the story of life in the days of the California gold rush. In the very first episode, we see how basic and crude and violent life can be without any rule-of-law. From the very beginning, might makes right, the strong take what they want, and the weak suffer, are exploited, die or are killed.
In succeeding episodes, we watch power struggles, and also the inward creeping of small signs of civilization . . . and the strong men have to share a little of their power, the tiniest threads of government begin to creep in. That is what keeps this show alive for me, and why I watch, in spite of the violence and incredibly vulgar language. It is a society in transition, from lawlessness to civilization. Those who prosper under lawlessness have to learn new ways of coping as rule-of-law creeps in.
There is one episode about plague, how it creeps into the community, and it seems to be to be an allegory for how rule-or-law creeps in, first the tiny threads, and slowly those threads weave themselves into the texture of daily life. The town bullies don’t like it, but as men who have survived – they adapt or they have to move on. We are held captivated by this series, and fascinated at how this crude society is transitioning and transforming into something else entirely.
I have two favorite characters, Calamity Jane and the Doctor. Calamity Jane has lived a tough life, had a tough beginning, and – so far – keeps herself pickled in liquor to bear her daily life, especially after Wild Bill dies. She dresses in men’s clothes, swears worse than many of the men, and at the same time . . . there is something insightful and whimsical in her character.
The Doc is a straight talking character, doing his best to patch people up and keep them alive under the very worst circumstances. He treats the town whores, treats the plague victims, treats the town leaders – he is it, he is the only source of medical services in the town. He is practical, and tough, and compassionate.
If you get a chance to watch Deadwood, it will hold your attention – there has not been a boring episode so far. Just don’t watch with your parents or your children!
Insha’allah
One of the best things about moving between cultures as often as I have is that I get a chance to learn how much I don’t know. One of the things I have learned living in the Middle Eastern countries was how little I knew about my own religion. Knowing how little I knew sent me into a bible-study program that I look forward to resuming one day when I am living back in the US, or someplace that offers it – Bible Study Fellowship. They do an in-depth study of different books, or sections, of the bible, very serious, and you learn so much.
Apart from that, the church with which I affiliate, the Episcopal Church, has daily readings – I’ve mentioned this before – you can see them yourself by clicking on The Lectionary over in my Blogroll, and then going to the Daily Office Readings and clicking on the right week. Once there, you have to click on the day of the week, and it will take you to the readings for today.
One of the readings for today, the New Testament reading, made me smile:
James 4:13-17,5:7-11
13 Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money.’
14 Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
15 Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that.’
16 As it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil.
17 Anyone, then, who knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, commits sin.
7 Be patient, therefore, beloved,* until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.
8 You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.*
9 Beloved,* do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged. See, the Judge is standing at the doors!
10 As an example of suffering and patience, beloved,* take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.
11 Indeed we call blessed those who showed endurance. You have heard of the endurance of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.
In the first section, verse 15 tells us that we should be like good Moslems, never saying we are going to do something without adding “if God wills it,” or (big grin) in Arabic, “Insha’allah.” How often we hear Westerners saying “None of this ‘Insha’allah!’ I want you to DO it, dammit!” I never looked twice at this verse until I had lived in the Middle East.
In the second part, there is a message just meant for me, maybe not for you, in verse 9. It tells me not to grumble against another person, of I will be judged by the same standard. Hmmmm, now there’s a scary thought!
But / And
Several years ago I was working for a charismatic leader. He was amazing, he built something out of nothing, and changed countless lives. I felt very privileged to be a part of his team.
I managed a particular program for him, and I raised money for college scholarships so that poor kids, who were smart but had very small chance of going on to university without outside help, would have the promise of a full-tuition paid scholarship if they kept their grades up, stayed drug free, attended cultural events for which we provided free tickets, donated by our very generous sponsors (museums! baseball games! fishing trips! opera! symphony! our sponsors were SO generous!)
From this leader I learned many things, and one sticks with me in my daily life – using “and” instead of “but.”
Here is what he explained to me – when you reply with “but”, you are negating what the previous speaker – or even you, yourself – said. When you use “and” instead of “but”, you open up the possibility of two different things co-existing.
I challenge you to try it.
It will change your life.
Eliminate “but” from your vocabulary. Replace it with “and.” It opens an amazing new world.
Here is an example:
“She wants to go to the mall, but I want to go to the movies.” (Implies that these things are mutually exclusive)
“She wants to go to the mall, and I want to go to the movies.” (Implies we can do both!)
“And” gives room for negotiation, for finding a bigger frame that includes all the wants and needs, with a little co-operation.
I challenge YOU to give it a try. Give it a try for just one day – see how it works. Come back here and tell us how it worked for you.
End of Year Musings
Hello, friends, I am back. We had the most amazing and wonderful adventure, and we are refreshed and happy to be back sleeping in our own bed again.
So of course, one of the first things I do when I get back is go through all my e-mail and then take a quick look at the blog. Even in my absence, the stats stayed high – until Christmas Day, when they dropped to about half. . . and there they stay. (Big grin) If this hadn’t happened last year, too, I would be shocked, but remember last year when I published all those great Thanksgiving and Christmas recipes? Those are what has pumped up the statistics. Most days in November and December, the Christmas Punch – Rum, and Rumless and the Christmas Divinity Candy have pumped those stats up above the thousand visitors / day mark several times.
Last year, it took me until September to match my December statistics. I wonder if I will ever match this December’s?
Like many bloggers, I write this blog for the sheer joy of writing. I don’t want to be a person who watches my stats, and at the same time, it interests me what interests YOU, the reader. What interests me also is that many times the most visited entries keep getting visits months later, even over a year later, and from time to time these earlier entries get a comment. I have seen the same thing on Jewaira’s blog, and although we are very different bloggers, she is still my primary blog-role-model. She is a blogger who, through sheer imagination and good writing has kept a loyal and enthusiastic readership. . . I want to be Jewaira when I grow up, bloggily speaking.
Don’t we all do a little personal inventory as the old year ends and the new year is about to begin? I’m not big on resolutions, but I am big on behavioral changes, and this week is a good week to muse, to ruminate, to think about what I want the future year to look like.
Is there some area YOU would like to explore in the new year? Some aspect of your character you would like to develop? Some talent you would like to give an opportunity to grow?
Christmas in Kuwait
There are Christmas trees in Kuwait, in the malls, in the stores, and Santa and his reindeer are everywhere. I can remember other Christmases – in Saudi Arabia, in Jordan, in Tunisia, in Qatar – when you never knew if this was a year when Christmas would be allowed or not.
For my family and friends not in Kuwait, you would be amazed what you can find here. I am just showing a tiny bit of what you can find these days in Kuwait:
What Will Matter?
I am thinking about all the people who are making resolutions for the coming year. I don’t do resolutions – for me, it’s too depressing, I fail so often. I do try to change my behaviors, small changes that I hope will lead to grander changes in the long run. I try to keep things in perspective. I try to make good choices.
AdventureMan shared this writing with me, it is a writing by Michael Josephson called What Will Matter sent out by an organization called Character Counts.org.
What Will Matter
by Michael Josephson
Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned of what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear.
Soon, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?
What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built,
not what you got but what you gave.
What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched,
empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example.
What will matter is not your competence but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew,
but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.
What will matter is not your memories, but the memories of those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what.
Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.
Fashion Nightmare
One of the classic worst nightmares you can have is where you dream you have shown up somewhere naked. No, I didn’t show up naked. But I can tell you that it was the next best thing, and there was nothing I could do. And I survived it, and I never had that bad dream again.
The priest in our church had asked me if I would take a visiting nun around to show her some of the local spots in Qatar. She was doing work in Afghanistan, getting schools up and running for Afghani girls, and I was eager to hear about her work, and show her some projects in Doha. I had gladly agreed, and had a plan outlined for all the places I could take her.
When I arrived at the church house, wearing my rattiest jeans skirt and cover-up shirt, so as to be inconspicuous as we visited various places in the poorer sections of town, the priest came out and said the nun would be out in a minute, and why didn’t I come in, that there had been a “slight” change in plans and that another woman would be coming too, and she was taking us to a Palestinian project.
I don’t hold it against the priest. He lived in another world, a world so full of God and his glory that he didn’t really have any understanding of the world of women.
The other woman arrived, and she was gorgeous. She was wearing Issa Miyake, she was perfectly and subtly made up, and we were not going to a charitable project, but to a charitable fund-raising breakfast. I had thoughts of killing the priest.
The nun arrived, and she was dressed in a decent pants and shirt; neither of us appropriately dressed but off we go, to a clubhouse filled with dressed-to-the-teeth women and their daughters, raising money for popular causes on a Saturday morning. We were severely underdressed. All we could do was hold our heads high and pretend we didn’t notice. Inside, I was torn between laughing and crying.
Our hostess didn’t seem to see the fact that we were poorly dressed, and was very gracious to us, and in future days, the two of us became good friends. We often laughed about the priest, his goodness of heart and his blindness to some of life’s realities, like giving fair warning of what you are doing so you can dress appropriately. It all turned out OK.
When people come to me and tell me something terribly, horribly and publicly embarrassing that has happened to them, and ask me how they will survive, I tell them what I believe to be true – that most people are so absorbed in their own lives that they barely notice much about others, and that people have short memories. What may seem to be a huge deal today, will be yesterday’s news by tomorrow, and barely remembered in a couple months. By the time a year has gone by, some people will even think it might have been someone else who committed the faux pas.
On the other hand, in the small German village where I lived, there were two families who never mixed because their grandmothers had a huge fight many many years ago (people can’t remember exactly what it was about) but the legacy lives on.
So I wonder, how does it work in Kuwait?
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