Some infuriating remarks I discovered as written responses to Gen. Petraeus’ extramarital affair:


“Yep, women tend to hang up the guns early and accept old age. Men have an extra 20 years of functional and enjoyable sex drive. Too bad it’s not accepted as natural evolution. Multiple sex mates does not make a man (or woman) less trustworthy, conscientious, rational, or competent. It’s too easy for the non-players to angst over it.”

“Not to defend the actions of Petraeus, but in the news footage, his wife looks like Aunt Bea on the Andy Griffith Show. Sure, he revealed a lack of personal intergrity, but Mrs. Petraeus must accept her own responsibility. Any woman – regardless of age or disability – can buy a bottle of Clairol or go to a salon.”

“The science is when women reach around 40 they lose their figure, sex drive and start getting hot flashes. Having sex with their husband or anyone is the LAST THING ON THEIR MINDS. There are strong hormonal changes occurring and make her less able to think logically.
Now once they hit their fifties the hormonal crap finally subsides and the true women emerges. This is when they are finally able to directly duel with men in logic and reason. This also accounts why women leaders are always past menopause.
This is the way God designed it. Older deprived men will always be chasing (or open to) younger women because they are fertile. Younger women are usually only interested if the man is powerful or rich.”


Yesterday’s Gone

Yesterday wasn’t the best of days for me.  Slight headache, tired, hives, behind  on my meds and my work, and then I caught a glimpse of my pale self in a mirror.  Yes, death warmed over.  Then I got a customer.  A nice man and his daughter who lives with him in the summer.  My grandfather had gotten him started with fossils years ago.  He asked me if I was Grandpa’s daughter.  That would put me at about 92 years old.  Yes, it’s easy to get the generations mixed up.  I’ve done it myself.  But yesterday wasn’t going all that well.

Later in the day I got into a conversation with a family member who expressed a concept that he admitted was elusive but probably valid at the same time.  I agreed.  He said, “When you are a rogue or a maverick, as opposed to being institutional, you run the risk of being regarded as lazy”.


True Story

I remember publishing this in the church newsletter when I was secretary at Trinity. I don’t know if anybody else got a kick out of it but I sure did.

Sometimes Truth SOUNDS Suspicious

In 1993 FBI agents conducted a raid of Southwood psychiatric hospital in San Diego, which was under investigation for medical insurance fraud. After hours of reviewing medical records, the agents had worked up an appetite. The agent in charge of the investigation called a nearby pizza parlor to order a quick dinner for his colleagues.

According to, a site dedicated to determining whether internet stories are true or merely unsubstantiated urban legends, the following telephone conversation actually took place.

Agent: Hello. I would like to order 19 large pizzas and 67 cans of soda.

Pizza Man: And where would you like them delivered?

Agent: We’re over at the psychiatric hospital.

Pizza Man: The psychiatric hospital?

Agent: That’s right. I’m an FBI agent.

Pizza Man: You’re an FBI agent?

Agent: That’s correct. Just about everybody here is.

Pizza Man: And you’re at the psychiatric hospital?

Agent: That’s correct. And make sure you don’t go through the front doors. We have them locked. You will have to go around to the back to the service entrance to deliver the pizzas.

Pizza Man: And you say you’re all FBI agents?

Agent: That’s right. How soon can you have them here?

Pizza Man: And everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI agent?

Agent: That’s right. We’ve been here all day and we’re starving.

Pizza Man: How are you going to pay for all of this?

Agent: I have my checkbook right here.

Pizza Man: And you’re all FBI agents?

Agent: That’s right. Everyone here is an FBI agent. Can you remember to bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear? We have the front doors locked.

Pizza Man: I don’t think so.

** Click **

June Poles, May Day, and Trailing Arbutus

On a whim, which is how I do a lot of things, I “liked” a Facebook group called the Maypole of Merrymount. Swedes, including Bemidji area residents of Swedish descent, put up what is called a majstång, or sometimes a midsommarstång, close to the day of the summer solstice. In church year terms, this is the Feast of Saint John the Baptist, but the celebration is for both Christians and pagans. I don’t know why they don’t call it a June pole but they don’t.

The Maypole of Merrymount was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne, who had changed his name from Hathorne, perhaps because he was ashamed of his Puritan ancestors, one of whom was the presiding judge at the Salem witchcraft trials. In this story, based loosely on a real incident, merrymakers in costume are dancing around a pole on the occasion of the marriage of the Queen of the May. Puritans from a nearby settlement watch with disapproval. They don’t like mumming or masking, or the idea of a priest officiating at a wedding. They address the officiant as the “priest of Baal”, cut down the maypole, whip some of the participants and put others in stocks.

The true incident which inspired this story took place on May Day (May 1), but in the narrative it is June 23, the summer solstice and the feast of Saint John the Baptist. The Puritans didn’t like either celebration and for a time put a stop to Christmas.

My church observed May Day this year, and although I can’t comment on the particulars because I didn’t attend the party, I saw the pole sitting in the fellowship hall. It was the kind with streamers. May Day is another of those celebrations, the origins of which have been lost to history. It comes halfway between spring and midsummer. In Christian terms it is the Feast of St. Philip and St. James. Some scholars say the maypole is a phallic symbol and the feminine principal is represented by flowers and baskets.

My parents observed May Day by making baskets and leaving them anonymously on neighbors’ doorsteps. On my dad’s side of the family they went on field trips in search of the trailing arbutus, a flower I have seen only once in my life.

May Day is also celebrated as a commemoration of the achievements of the labor movement for social and economic justice. The date was chosen to coincide with the 1886 Haymarket massacre in Chicago in which strikers and police officers were killed. Mayday, repeated three times, is also a radio distress signal call, recognized internationally.

Have To Know Everything

I am a writer who came of a sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within.
Eudora Welty
I just found this quote. As a writer I have to know a lot about a lot of things. When people tell me I have lived a sheltered life, they are saying I have not had any difficult experiences, or drama, and that translates into no experiences. Therefore I have nothing to write about.


A deer was hit on the road. Soon a bald eagle with her flock of young ones descended. I could hear crows, and a raven, which I thought perhaps had strayed a bit farther south than its normal territory. The neighbor said turkey buzzards have been seen in the neighborhood. I seem to have lost my cat named Funnyface. Another neighbor saw timber wolves. It is my understanding timber wolves and coyotes don’t occupy the same territory, and come to think of it, I haven’t heard the coyotes this year. The photo was taken by my aunt about five miles from here.

November Birthstones

I was never crazy about my birthstone(s). Perhaps my taste is maturing. Yellow topaz paired with blue topaz would make a striking contrast. The alternative birthstone for November is citrine, also yellow. I was disappointed to learn most citrine on the market is created by heating amethyst or smoky quartz. The real thing is lovely, and lacks that reddish cast seen in most stones on the market. I would definitely consider owning a genuine, natural citrine.

I think the above photo of my avatar wearing yellow and a medallion is one of my better attempts to capture images in SecondLife. The other photo is white quartz with a bit of citrine.

To view this photo of a tumbled stone, go here.