Serendipity

Sort of. Old car wouldn't start this morning, but finally did. Then as I was driving to radiation treatment, an exhaust pipe let loose and huge loud obnoxious muffler noises began emanating from underneath. Decided I would try to pick up the new car today instead of tomorrow. Called them. The side moulding had come in earlier than expected so sure, come on down. (Side moulding is no longer standard but an option!) After radiation treatment, I met K. at my former office to get stuff off the computer there, and to retrieve more of my books. The HR person who was also meeting us said she had good news: my long term disability benefits have been approved. Glory be. But not until I had written the union rep, a benefits rep, and this HR person earlier in the week saying WHEN WILL THERE BE A DECISION?? I AM DESOLATE!! And calling the insurance company making the decision. They had sent me a "customer service survey" even before the decision had been made, so I called the person at the bottom of that insulting piece of mail and said WHEN WILL THERE BE A DECISION?? I AM DESOLATE!! And it was true. So, the squeaky wheel. I cried all the time I was in my former office gathering up my things; this is not how I wanted to leave the job. The HR person had done a good job making sure no one else would be around, for which I was thankful. K. was right on top of the details, and was a tremendous help. My great IT guy was there, and just whisked all my documents onto the flash drive; I will miss him. We schlepped all the stuff to my old car, K. said she wanted to go with me to pick up the new car, so we made a plan. I stopped at the bank, got a cashiers' check, ran home, let the dog out, cleaned out all the crap from my Corolla, met K. at her house and went and picked up the Forester. She liked it a lot, which helped me like it more and feel a bit more excited. I was gonna give my Corolla to a teenage friend, but her parents decided against her having it cause it would cost them more for the insurance and upkeep. so I traded it in, and my cost for the Forester was less than I originally was expecting to pay. I feel lighter now that the LTD is approved, but now HR is saying that I have to be approved for Social Security disability TOO in order to retire at the end of this year. That was never my understanding, so will check in with my witnesses who were at the meeting where all of this was discussed, and see what they remember. The University is always trying to pull a fast one, and I have to keep on my toes. K. invited me for leftovers, she showed me her motorcycle project and her scooter project, and then we went to the park by the Sound to play with Momo and another local doggie. Too bad Bindi wasn't with.

Tig

This story was written by my friend in New Orleans.
LA
***************************************************



Valuing a single small life in the face of global disaster

June 2, 2008 By Jim Gabour

A frail beating heart in Jim Gabour's household is also a route to compassion in the world beyond.

He was deserted by his mother at birth and survived by his wits as a literal infant. He begged for food from seedier neighbourhood hangers-on, those scarcely better off than he. He scavenged for meals through rotting garbage in restaurant dumpsters, running between shadows on the precarious New Orleans lakefront. He occasionally trapped a fish which had strayed into the shallows or found a recently dead crab washed up on the shore.

He slept in abandoned cubbyholes hidden in the maze of small, damp caves that criss-cross beneath the jagged concrete of Lake Ponchartrain water breaks.

He managed his own life for well over a decade, with help from no one. Then as he was trying to cross a street, once again scrabbling for food, he was hit and critically injured by a car. The vehicle rolled over him, and did not stop to help.

Neighbours saw his injury, ran to the accident site and tried to find him. But, like sole survivalists are wont to do, he had instantly gone to ground to try and recover on his own. Other than recent bloodstains, there was not even a sign of him to be found when that help first arrived. When by pure chance he was discovered weeks later by a rescuer, he was on the verge of death, had lost one eye, all his teeth and the use of a leg. His tongue was split down the middle. Untreated, his bones had fused incorrectly.

He was in constant pain, and tried as best he could to communicate that distress.

His volunteer doctor ordered him taken for rehabilitation to a wooded inland farm in Mississippi, a place that catered to such lost souls. He had really just been settling in there when, in 2005, hurricane Katrina came ashore just south of the place, inundating the coastline with a thirty-foot storm surge. Trees and dwellings were considerably thinned.

But he survived again, and even began to thrive, together with others of his ilk and age for the first time.

By December 2007 he had recovered enough to be offered for adoption on the internet, his story accompanied by a picture of his tortured, though admirable, face.

But an adoptive family was not considered a likely result. Even the rescue agency itself admitted that a crippled, toothless, and half-blind 13-year-old was a long-shot for adoption.

He now lives at my house.

My own 12-year-old, who had lost an eye on the same side to illness at birth, had died only months before, and through an improbable chain of events starting with his picture on the internet, the limping little boy came to live with me.

You see, he is an orange tabby too.

A loving presence

"Tigger" he is called. He was tagged as "Tiger" when adopted, but the old boy was much too loving and non-aggressive to be called that, and so his name was softened with another "g". He weighed twelve pounds, 5.4 kilos, when he arrived here on Marigny Street in New Orleans. He gained weight and then a feeling of safety, on a steady diet and much petting.

Now after months of stability and love, those measures of happiness suddenly are declining hourly over the last seventy-two. Something bad has entered his system, and his breathing becomes more laboured by the moment. At first the doctors thought a harsh uprising of asthma, and then, a possible heart-attack, sending some sort of embolism from heart to lungs. It is the weekend, his regular vet is not available, and the emergency clinic where he first was treated had him overnight in an oxygen tent.

In the process of diagnosing his condition and evaluating his current status they have performed a number of scientific and medical procedures, including taking a life-sized X-ray. They looked inside his thick orange fur and discovered even more of his history.

There is a bullet lodged in his side. It has been there some time and has scarred over.

Two of his spinal vertebrae were crushed in what were probably the jaws of a large dog.

He has many many other healed wounds.

All this violence attached to the touchingly affectionate creature that has slept purring with his head and front paws on my hip for all these past months. But I never realised just how far he had come, how much he had endured. Yet here was a creature still able to blot out past horror and simply offer himself as a loving presence in others' lives.

Today, this nervous Sunday morning, while I waited for word about Tigger's imminent transfer to a different, much better-equipped, and vastly more expensive critical-care facility, I looked at the headlines on the web, on openDemocracy, and in the newspapers. None of which was comforting.

I read the stories of so many lives lost to tragedy and terror, both natural and man-made, and became lost amidst the reported masses of unprovoked and undeserved pain and death.

There are so many of them, so many innocents taken up in the tide of misery and forged into a singular face - the cyclone victim in Myanmar, the quake casualty in China, the tortured child of Sudan. Too many. And too much pain for the "civilised" world to bear. For whose convenience they are transformed a solitary, horrific entity. Some unified image to haunt the nights of liberals worldwide. Who, like me send a pound, a euro, a dollar, and try to forget the individual faces. They are too much for the heart when considered one by one. Too much.

A feline respite

But this old tabby and his X-rayed contents have made me begin separating faces and lives, and stories. Maybe this is his function on earth, showing himself as a reminder for compassion on a personal scale.

Today, over my clean coffee cup, silverware and plate, in the security of my own locked and alarmed home, I once again am forced to realise the depth of true sorrow, of the loss of individual lives.

Our minds protectively do indeed perceive them as a single face, but they have many. Their stories, the vast majority of which are never even considered significant, much less told, are each profound.

Their worth is no less than the story of the politician, the intellectual, the philosopher. If faced with the choice, I would undoubtedly prefer the existence of Tigger in this world to that of the current United States president. Though I fear the cat and I both now owe W a debt of sorts. Saturday, before taking Tigger to the emergency room, the mail arrived with an "economic stimulus payment" - a check from the federal government made out to me for $600. Today, just hours ago at the ritzy veterinary critical-care hospital, I was required to put down a deposit on the Tig's bill: the hospital's finance person demanded I pay $600. I am not kidding. Exactly $600. Which, confounding George W Bush's economically subterranean policies, I gave to the hospital and did not spend at Wal-Mart.

No matter, George. All of us eventually die. Only the worth of the story remains.

Tigger would tell them that they all matter, if he could. He himself matters, here in this hard place where creatures live and die at the whim of their fellows. Where the self-aware are ruled by the caprice of the planet on which they are allowed momentarily to exist. And occasionally use the litter-box. Then to not exist.

I spoke to the doctor just now. My tabby is awake and purring in his oxygen tent. I must go read him the Sunday paper.

Comics first.

He likes the way I explain the brightly-printed comics. There are speaking cats in those pages, felines who are in charge of their lives.

He is not well, you know, and to heal must have brief respites from the pain of reality.

As do we all.



_______________

Jim Gabour is an award-winning film producer, writer and director, whose work focuses primarily on music and the diversity of cultures. He lives in New Orleans, where he is artist-in-residence and professor of video technology at Loyola

New Car

This is the car I bought. 2009 Subaru Forester, Sage Green Metallic. Thanks to AR and CC for their help; they came with, separately, and both chose the Forester over the CR-V.

Various

Got it down to a 2008 CR-V and a 2009 Subaru Forester. Leaning towards the latter. Better visibility. Have no idea how to negotiate price. Am asking a friend for help. Niece R. was here for a couple of days, left yesterday afternoon. It was so wonderful and special having her visit, but I was sad before she arrived knowing she would leave so soon, and am sad that she is gone. Much loneliness. She helped me put together a bookshelf and hang one of the stained glass windows and weed my Edgerton garden. She took Bindi on two long walks. We enjoyed a local thrift shop together. She makes her own clothes that are stunning, creative, flamboyant. Radiation cancelled on Thursday as the machine was "down." Starting to see the same faces in the waiting/dressing room. One woman had throat cancer, her voice box removed. Lots of breast cancer. Still no news on the long term disability. Hard to blog. Can't concentrate. Visit to another doctor for a second opinion last Monday was a waste, as they hadn't gotten the surgery notes but didn't tell me till I was there three hours. I'm ok with other people, but as soon as I'm by myself, I get lost. Where's my Agadore?

Beachy Keen

Went to Rocky Neck beach yesterday with a small group. It was nice, and as usual, wonderful to swim in salt water. It was only when we were about to leave, around 2 pm, that I noticed a couple of jelly fish in the water, so we skeedaddled. Wow, that's an old fashioned word! Don't even know if I spelled it anyway correctly. I slathered with sun screen and we had three umbrellas, so I didn't get burned.

Had a dream where I was asking people for help with choosing a car. I'm having a hard time. The CR-V Honda is fine, but it seems the front seats are a bit shallow, meaning the depth of the seat from back to front, and I seem to be fixated on that. Shouldn't the car seat reach almost the bend in your legs, meaning your knees, when you are sitting in it? My old Corolla does. The CR-V is about 3-4 inches short of that. Drove a Suburu Forester, and it was ok, as was the Rav-4, but none is turning me on. I'm not expecting them to, since what I really want is a Lexus or a really cushy sedan, but the former is too expensive, and the latter too low to the ground. I feel like I shouldn't go to the dealer and ask to drive the cars more than once or twice, but I feel like I have to drive the cars six or seven times to make a decision. I should just be bold and say that's what I need and if they give me guff, I won't buy from them.

I hope we get some rain today. It has been dry dry dry.

Overdid It

Yesterday on my way to the first radiation treatment (I remembered to take the Atavan!), I stopped by a local jeweler to have the crystal replaced in my favorite watch. He said it would cost about $100! The watch didn't even cost that much, and the crystal was just cracked, not broken, so I think I will leave it be. Then after the treatment, I went to the Y summer camp pool near my house for my first swim since the surgery in May. It felt so nice, even tho the place was a bit trashed from the camp kids, and I swam back and forth, back and forth, slowly for quite a while. Then I came home and got Bindi, ate some food which gave me kind of an upset stomach, then went to a garden committee meeting at the community garden. After that I spent over an hour pruning the herbs in the herb garden there, Bindi got loose and I had to wait for her to get tired and come back to me, then we left the garden and came home. I was exhausted. Was supposed to go car shopping at 10am this morning, but I was so very tired, that I called my friend and cancelled.

Now, in an hour, back for another treatment. Sigh.

More Roberts

16 July 2008


The incense and candles from my last post. Holdovers from Catholic masses. And then morphed into the hippie culture. Now just purely sensual comforts. I am always reminded of Robert Mapplethorpe, the exquisite photographer, long deceased, and his attachment to altars because of his own Catholic upbringing. I saw a biography of him at an exhibit of his work, and cried because I felt such kinship with the man. His tenderness and vulnerability and his dark side. His portraiture is astonishing, including a self-portrait he made of himself shortly before his death.

The photo is of irises, dated 1987, photogravure technique.

Went to the cancer center Monday and yesterday, for set-up xrays. Today I start the radiation treatments. Monday I cried and cried all morning, but took Atavan before the appointment and was able to get thru having my head locked onto the table with the mask before the x-rays were taken. Yesterday I neglected to take the drug, and fell apart, esp. after listening to the story of a woman who had throat cancer. Sitting in the waiting area of the women's dressing room, I watched woman after woman come in, put on the gown, and sit and wait for her name to be called for treatment. How can I not be changed by this experience, since I will be doing the same thing for 30 more days?

Trying to decide which car to buy. Looked at Hondas, and Toyotas, and like the Honda CRV better than the Toyota Rav-4. Why are they making the back windows so ridiculously small? I'm having a hard time feeling what I like. None of them is calling out to me. I need something with room for the animals and the gardening stuff and my constant junk collecting, with a seat high enough that I don't have to bend my knees very much to get in and out. So sedans are out. They are all too low. The Toyota Matrix and the Honda Fit seem a little small to me, even though they get better gas mileage. The hybrids like the Prius have seats that are too low, but the fuel economy is very tempting. But I don't drive long distances, just around towns nearby, so it's not like I'm commuting and driving state to state where fuel economy would be much more important. I went onto the Car Talk website and took their Auto Advisor questionnaire for buying new cars. After I answered all the questions, it advised a Honda CR-V!! Making big decisions right now is the last thing I want to do, but the clutch on my 19 year old Corolla is about to go, and I don't want to put money into replacing it.

Supposed to get into the 90s tomorrow and Friday. Have a beach date on Saturday with a few folks. Can get a library state park pass so I don't have to pay the entry fee ($10). Called the YMCA here and I can use their outdoor pool on a fee per use basis ($10). Apparently, this camp pool is spring fed and very cold. May check it out this afternoon after the treatment.

Minute by Minute

13 July 2008

Light the sandalwood incense. Burn the candle. Pop in the cd. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me. Remember my connection to those I love and who love me.



Little 5 year old Tom at dinner last night, so shy in the beginning. Then I asked D. for paper and markers, and Tom and I began to draw houses. And watch the fireflies. And he began to smile and even laugh, so beautifully. He put his finger to his lips and said, "Shhhh," as the fireflies were getting closer, he said. We heard rustling in the woods. I said a squirrel maybe, he said the wind, and looked up at the tall trees whose branches were swaying to and fro in the evening light.



Rachel and Frances left yesterday morning at 7.30am, after staying with me for three nights. The new anti-depressants must be working for me, as I did not crash. Already checking out my frequent flier miles to see what my options are. Will wait till niece R. is out there, then go visit all, including JK in Sacramento. Can I take the doggie-do?

Drove Myself to Distraction

First to Guilford for a cookout. Some nice folks, good food, and to top it off, a couple who came late brought the five baby mallard ducks they had rescued from the road, found without a mom. I got to see how they were fed, in a dishpan of water with crushed egg, crushed cheerios, crushed dog/cat kibble, smushed cooked green beans. Then I helped dry them off after they did their feeding thing. It was totally way too cute and sweet, and what an adorable peeping they all made. Got to see my old digs and picked blooms from the lavender plant I planted there, and gave some to everyone. The photo above looks just like the baby ducks. They couldn't have weighed more than an ounce each, so delicate, so vulnerable. Taught someone the difference between lemon verbena and lemon balm. One winters over here, the other not.

Then to the neighbors across the street for the son's graduation party. Really high energy, great music blasting from the outdoor speakers, lots of nice people, and a good talk with a guy who used to sell cars. He thinks I should look at Subarus. Why won't someone just go out and pick a car for me and I'll pay for it?! A little boy named Teddy who was so vibrant and full of spirit was walking Bindi around and brought her back to me with Bindi's back right leg limping. He said he "slipped." She seems ok now, but will keep an eye on it. B. said she'd make a copy of the Marc Anthony Spanish language ballads cd that was so beautiful.

I was out from noon till 9pm. Tomorrow I have a lunch date back in Guilford with the Robs, and then Frances will come to my house for a sleepover tomorrow night. I seem to be easily distracted when I am with other people. When I get back home, the reality of my situations sinks back in.

Camilla has a bladder infection, and from licking her belly clean of fur had a badly irritated patch of skin, so she's on two new meds for those problems. I think she is feeling better now, tho. Poor girl.

But I managed to change the sheets on the bed, which feels great when I can manage it. I sleep better.

Small Things

A Hoops & Yoyo e-card from my 13 year old niece.

Yas calling from Australia.

The neighbor across the street inviting me to his son's graduation party.

The Pekinese Chihuahua mix named Oliver in the dog park.

Finding people who want to go to the beach.

The vet being happy when Camilla peed on his office floor.

Cool breeze after a hot day.

Jeff weeding my garden and creating beautiful paths.

Watching "Wall-E" with R & F.

Fresh strawberries locally grown.

A new scratching box for the cats.

Bindiana Bones' new pink cap with a flamingo on it.

Talking with my sis and my niece on the phone.

Alice in Wonderland fabric.

Hope.



(Graphic from www.vital-message.com)

Depression

Ok, lurkers, here's the deal. I really need you to respond to my blog entries, either by online comment, separate email to me, or call me up. My sitemeter lets me know how many "visits" to my blog appear every day and week. So I know a bunch of you are reading it.

This past week was hell for me. My depression reared it's ugly head bigtime, and it's all I can do to get out of bed in the morning (thank you Bindi). I know the things I'm SUPPOSED to do when I feel this way, but if any of you have experienced moderate to severe depression, you know that when you are in this state doing anything except sitting slumped in front of the television is about all that can be accomplished. I can't reach out. I can't get myself to go to the garden. I can't exercise. I can't eat right. I'm even too frightened to cry by myself, have to do it with the shrink or the therapist, or someone else who happens to be handy. And no one is handy. All of my best friends live far away or are dealing with their own pain and struggles and business.

It's unbelievably frustrating when people I know ask me how I am and I say, "I'm not doing well." And then they say, "Oh, what's wrong?" What's wrong??? Where have you been?? Do you really not know what is going on with me, or if so, do you think I should be "over it?"

I know, I know, most of us are not skilled when we have a friend who is depressed. We don't know what to do, or the depression is so frightening, we want to avoid that friend. If you don't know how to respond, perhaps you could ask someone who does know how to respond to help you out. I've often had to instruct my friends on what I need, "train" them if you will.

Again, a list of the "challenges" (i hate that word) before me:

1. I have cancer. On July 7 I start six weeks of daily radiation treatment, my head immobilized inside a mesh cage. I get claustrophobic. My tongue is still easily irritated, I can't chew very well, and a chunk is missing.

2. I had to give up my job of 25 years on June 12, and while I thought that I would make it to a retirement with dignity at the end of next year, I just get letters in the mail saying my job is terminated. I was going to have a big retirement party, I was going to feel a real sense of accomplishment and service, I was going to be honored. Instead, I was pushed out of the job prematurely under great duress, and ignored by many of the people I've worked with for decades. For someone who was referred to over the years by countless faculty and students as "the heart and soul of Women's Studies," this dismissal has left me with much grief and

3. PTSD. If you don't know what that entails, google it.

4. I will have no paycheck after July 3. I have applied for disability benefits, but I do not know when or if that will go through. I feel financially insecure.

5. Two of my very best friends are leaving the area on July 11. They have been/are so special to me, that not having them in my daily life hurts terribly. I am so sad about this.

6. My knees are still bad. I use a cane most of the time now, and it's even a chore to walk my sweet dog.

7. My car is dying. I feel so heavy and slow most of the time, that shopping for one and making the decision feels like too much. I am literally buying time by putting more money into this 18 year old Corolla until my energy is such that I can do the car buying task.


If you respond to this, if you care about me, please know that one response every six months isn't enough. If you respond to this, know that what I fear most is feeling alone and unsupported. I've lived in this area for 40 years, and still do not have a sustaining community. I have friends and lots of acquaintances, but my idea of community is not something that exists for me. And I know that it is not just me. I have heard many people around here complain of the same thing, which is why I badly need to get out of the northeast.

I apologize for such a deeply personal entry, and I hope I have not offended anyone. This is just my awkward way of letting you know I need help, and that, until I let you know differently, I am not doing well.

Good News

With Florida being my probable next home state, this story was heartily welcomed.

********************

Florida Buying Big Sugar Tract for Everglades
By DAMIEN CAVE

LOXAHATCHEE, Fla. — The dream of a restored Everglades, with water flowing from Lake Okeechobee to Florida Bay, moved a giant step closer to reality on Tuesday when the nation’s largest sugarcane producer agreed to sell all of its assets to the state and go out of business.

Under the proposed deal, Florida will pay $1.75 billion for United States Sugar, which would have six years to continue farming before turning over 187,000 acres north of Everglades National Park, along with two sugar refineries, 200 miles of railroad and other assets.

It would be Florida’s biggest land acquisition ever, and the magnitude and location of the purchase left environmentalists and state officials giddy.
Even before Gov. Charlie Crist arrived to make the announcement against a backdrop of water, grass and birds here, dozens of advocates gathered in small groups, gasping with awe, as if at a wedding for a couple they never thought would fall in love. After years of battling with United States Sugar over water and pollution, many of them said that the prospect of a partnership came as a shock.

“It’s so exciting,” said Margaret McPherson, vice president of the Everglades Foundation. “I’m going to do cartwheels.”

The details of the deal, which is scheduled to be completed over the next few months, and does not require legislative approval, may define how long the honeymoon lasts. Previous acquisitions took longer to integrate than initially expected and because United States Sugar’s fields are not all contiguous, complicated land swaps with other businesses may be required.

The purchase will be paid for with bonds and from fees already added to water bills. But if the price goes up or environmental remediation enters the picture, the state could have to renegotiate or find other money.

The fate of the company’s 1,900 workers also remains in question and some former company executives have suggested that the state is overpaying, bailing out a company burdened with debt, a troubled new sugar mill and a lawsuit from former employees who said they were bilked out of retirement money.
Company officials said the deal would amount to $350 a share, after taxes and other obligations were paid, a premium over two previous offers of $293 per share that the company had dismissed as inadequate.

The accusations and concerns, however, did not dampen the mood. Even as workers from the mill in Clewiston tried to get a handle on their futures, and some cried foul, Mr. Crist emphasized the land’s environmental value.
He said the deal was “as monumental as the creation of the nation’s first national park, Yellowstone.” Declining to provide details of how the state arrived at the price of $1.7 billion, he said it was a terrific bargain.

“I can envision no better gift to the Everglades,” he said, “the people of Florida and the people of America — as well as our planet — than to place in public ownership this missing link that represents the key to true restoration.”
The impact on the Everglades could be substantial. The natural flow of water would be restored, and the expanse of about 292 square miles would add about a million acre-feet of water storage. That amount of water — enough to fill about 500,000 Olympic size swimming pools — could soak the southern Everglades during the dry season, protecting wildlife, preventing fires, and allowing for a redrawing of the $8 billion Everglades restoration plan approved in 2000.

It would essentially remove some of the proposed plumbing. Many of the complicated wells and pumps the plan relied on might never have to be built, water officials said, because the water could move naturally down the gradually sloping land.

Kenneth G. Ammon, deputy executive director of the South Florida Water Management District, which would assume control of the land, said it would be a “managed” flow-way, with reservoirs and other engineered mechanisms to control water flow. David G. Guest, a lawyer for Earthjustice Legal Defense Fund, joked that he might have to go to blows to keep the area all natural.
“This is about putting it back to the way it was in the 1890s,” Mr. Guest said. “What will happen is that if you come back here in 20 years, it will look indistinguishable from the way it looked before the white man arrived.”

The future challenges will probably intersect with the land’s more recent history. Since 1931, United States Sugar has farmed the area, using fertilizers that have often released phosphorous into the water. The legacy of its efforts could prove hidden at first, like pollution found during other environmental cleanup efforts.

The company has long denied that its efforts severely damaged the land, and executives said that the sale would benefit the Everglades, and shareholders.
“It’s dollars and cents and the right thing to do,” said Robert H. Buker Jr., the company’s president, in an interview after the announcement. “If I had to go out I’d rather — all of us would rather it went out to make the state of Florida better.”

The company will face some hurdles. The lawsuit involving former employees will not disappear but will probably include fewer plaintiffs, said Curtis Miner, one of the workers’ lawyers. Some, like Randy Smith, 57, who cashed out last year at $194 a share after 25 years with the company, said Tuesday’s deal only proved that he did not receive his fair share.
“I got ripped off pretty good,” he said.

Those most affected though will be current workers, and they could decide whether the purchase goes through. United States Sugar took its stock off the public market in 1983 to create an employee stock ownership plan, so technically the company is owned by the workers.

Mr. Buker said he expected the workers would approve the deal because of the money they could make. But at a meeting with workers in Clewiston on Tuesday, opinions seemed mixed. Some workers said they were angry they were left out of the loop. As recently as Tuesday morning, bosses told them that rumors of a sale were not true.

They had a lot of questions: Why sell now? What would happen when the state took over? Would the mill still run? Would there be jobs? What would happen to Clewiston, the tiny town that has relied on United States Sugar since the 1930s?

Mr. Buker tried to respond. He said it was a good deal, that wage earners would receive a year’s pay as severance; that salaried workers would get two years. And he said that the company had no choice but to sell because the state had the upper hand, and could have pushed them off the land with laws, rather than with $1.7 billion dollars.

For many — both workers and environmentalists — it was all still hard to believe. “You got to hear it three times,” said Chris Harris, 36, a United States Sugar foreman, after the meeting. “It sinks in but...”

His voice trailed off and he looked away. The company had seemed to be growing, revamping its mill. A new tower went up just last week. At the time, Mr. Crist was being lambasted by environmentalists for abandoning his opposition to drilling offshore for oil and natural gas. At least for some on Tuesday, all was forgiven.

“Offshore drilling is a mouse,” said Mr. Guest, of Earthjustice. “the Everglades is an elephant.”

Reporting was contributed by Yolanne Almanzar from Clewiston, Fla., and Mary Williams Walsh.

Photo by Barbara P. Fernandez for The New York Times

Lady in the Mask

When they were done fitting me with this mask for the radiation treatments yesterday, I said, Well, that was creepy. I got this picture from someone's blog who seemed to be journalling every aspect of her treatment, but I have no desire to do that. I'm trying to go thru all this at a kind of distance, as if it is a movie I am watching, or a play I am in. Don't know if that's good or bad; it just is.

After that madness, I dropped off some hostas to a friend, then stopped in at the Toyota dealer on the way home. This dealer is a non-negotiating dealer, so the price they tell you is what you pay, which I think is good for me. The sellers work on bonuses, not on commission on every car. So I didn't feel pressured at all. Looked at a Matrix and a Rav4, I think either would be ok, but the Rav4 has a higher seat and is a bit bigger, which might be better for my needs. 0% financing on 36 month financing when you buy a 2009. I'm gonna look at Hondas, too.

Took myself out to Midori late afternoon then, for a bowl of their delicious chicken soup. A light beef broth with Asian vegetables, udon noodles, and chicken. With a side of pickled radish. Yum. And so close to my house, and they are wonderfully cordial people.

I don't feel well, today. Was up till 4am on Monday morning, took a long nap yesterday, and just feel crummy today. I need to get my current car registration renewed, but first have to have the emissions test, and I can't find the paper, and the registration is overdue, and I have a ton more paperwork to do for my medical leave, and I feel like doing NONE OF IT!!!

Shoutout to the AndFam: Hope everyone is feeling better. Miss you all.

Family

Me on the right, my sister C. on your left, and my niece E. in the middle on her 9th birthday.

My friend BF visited me yesterday and we just sat outside for several hours, eating, chatting, gardening, playing with the dog. Very pleasant, although I've been fighting a yucky cough that is tiring me out. Last Monday I saw the shrink, then Tuesdsay I had a PET scan, then Wednesday, I saw the surgeon, then Thursday, I saw the oncologist, and Friday I saw my counselor. Exhausting. The PET scan was very weird, and no one told me what it entailed. Another lesson in ASK IF YOU DON'T KNOW. Nothing is freely given it seems.

Camilla peed right on the bed next to me the other morning. Either she or the other cat had peed in her new bed, and I think she was not happy about that. And you can't wash those things to get the smell out. You have to buy a new bed. But even disregarding her inappropriate peeing, it's time to take her to the vet for a checkup.

I am officially not working for WGSS any more. And R. leaves her position in two weeks. She said, "Instead of Thing One and Thing Two, they'll have Grunt 1 and Grunt 2." It was very funny. That corridor is losing two very dynamic women. Their loss, big time. Poor R. threw out her back and has been in awful pain for days. I think it's getting better though.

Planted some Red Rocket snapdragons where the tulips had been. And two big red canna corms. Lots of my plants are being eaten by some pest. My potted rose looks healthy since I've been using the organic rose spray; perhaps I'll use it on other plants and see what happens.

Tomorrow I go to have a mesh mask made for use in mapping the areas to radiate on my head, and to stabilize my head while the treatments are being performed. The oncologist asked me if I was claustrophobic, and I said yes, so I don't know what THAT means. Oh, man, more surprises.

Wanted badly to go swimming today but just felt so blecchh that I didn't go. It's outdoor pool season now, and there's a couple pool clubs I can join nearby so that's not a problem. A public pool would be nicer, thank you very much, but oh well. I miss being in Naples, FL, where I just plopped myself in the ocean most days. What a complete luxury.

Here's a nice story: we had a communal work party at the community garden last Friday afternoon, called Wine and Weed (weed as in pulling weeds, not the other kind.) Although not many gardeners showed up, I ended up working in the herb plot with TD, an old hippie philosopher like me, and we were chatting and weeding and laughing and venting. The air was cool, the afternoon light was lovely, and there was a light wind blowing. We then moved on to cutting back the lavender and the lemon balm, which both emanated extraordinary scents filling us with intense aromatic pleasure. I'm not sure which of us said it, but out of one of our mouths came the words, "It doesn't get any better than this." And it was true. Thanks, T.

The Celestial Planes

By Destiny Womack. got it on eBay for $271. Original oil. 30 x 60".

Bindiana Bones.

Plants Have a Secret Social Life

Well, I always knew it.  But now it has been proved "scientifically."

www.nytimes.com/2008/06/10/science/10plant.html?th&emc=th

The photo is of the orchid my sibs and I sent to D & C for their 30th wedding anniversary.  Cool, eh?  I wonder what kind of social life this plant has?  Ha ha.

IKA and I went to the sports store last night and got her a new pair of roller blades.  Fortunately there was a very knowledgeable customer there buying skates for his own kid who helped us with the choices.  Then we went to Cold Stone Creamery for milk shakes.  It must be annoying for the workers there to sing those silly songs every time money is put into the tip jar.  What an unusual job requirement.

I have just been so so so tired.  And my tongue has been sore from talking too much and trying to chew some foods, but it's hard to resist both with such temptation around me.  Still taking very long naps in the afternoon, and sleeping long hours at night.

Finished THREE DOG LIFE.  Absolutely compelling.  It's a fairly short memoir, so I think I will read it again.  There were so many beautiful turns of phrase, but as I was reading them, I did not want to take the time to write them down, just soak them in.  But here is one lovely passage from the book:  

There was a young man who had arrived at the Northeast Center angry and belligerent, as inclined to take a swing at you as not.  He began showing up in Bill's studio and started to paint.  Bill watched him become an artist, and gradually he stopped being at the mercy of his rages.  He got well enough to leave the center and move to a group home.  This is what he said to Bill before he left: "What is art, anyway, except not pounding on walls?"

Art Fair

What do you think of this painting?  It's on Ebay, and is quite large.  I kind of like it a lot.  I'm in a shopping mood.

It's 1.30 am or so, and I'm not sleeping.  Drugs haven't kicked in yet, or else the book I've been reading has energized me in some way.  Three Dog Life by Abigail Thomas.  Her husband is disabled after being hit by a car and suffering traumatic brain injury (like my own father), and I thought I would not be able to read it right now, but she adopts two more dogs in addition to the one she and her husband had adopted, and writes eloquently about how she copes with her life after her husband's accident.

Today three of us went to the local summer art fair, the white booths with jewelry and painted glassware and pottery and photography and hand sculpted refrigerator magnet flowers.  I love these fairs, with their lemonade stands and strong smells of popcorn and freshly tanned handmade leather bags and pouches.  I spent about a hundred dollars on items for myself and others; I like to buy holiday and birthday gifts at these fairs, put them in my big blue tote marked "gifts," and know that I always have something on hand when a present is called for.  I lusted after a beautifully crafted ceramic butter dish with cover, all modern and colorful, but for $65 I was too afraid I would break it or chip it, which is inevitably what happens with all my ceramics.  Still, I love to look at what people create, and am always amazed that human creativity is infinite.

It was very hot here today and I was quite exhausted by the fair, and after telling K. we needed to leave NOW, I made it home in time to put myself to bed for one of my three hour naps I've been taking each afternoon since arriving.  Bindi sleeps on the bed with me for these naps, so quiet, but not as cuddly as my dear Camilla, whom I miss.  How can it be a choice between cats and dogs?  We  need them both, with their very different temperaments and sensibilities, abilities and gifts.  I'll tell you one thing: dogs purr, too.

We went to PetSmart last night to get some things for doggie-do, and the store happened to have several adorable kittens up for adoption.  We weren't allowed to hold any of them as we were not serious adopters, but one was black and white like DillBoy, and two others were longish haired grey kittens, like D's Oxmyx and my Misty.  Oh I would have 50 cats if I could.  They're just too extraordinary.

Took myself to Walgreen's tonight to pick up some things and managed to get lost for a while.  But a rainstorm was approaching and I got a glimpse of the marvelous midwest thunder and lightning.

K and D made delicious grilled ribs for dinner which I managed to chew small bites of.  Also red potatoes and green beans.  I blended those together with some tomato, not the best combination in the world of Osterizer, but not that bad.

We watched The Prestige on dvd last night.  Interesting, but I think I liked The Illusionist better.  But Prestige had Michael Caine and Hugh Jackman, both very compelling on screen.  Watched a Muppets episode with Peter Sellars in it.  So funny and droll at the same time.  I miss the Muppets.

Munchkins

I'm in Michigan now with my brother and his family, and there are visitors and a house full of kids doing any number of things.  We were at the park earlier, but were run out by a downpour.  Bindi is resting from all the activity on my brother's new recliner.

We watched SPANGLISH on dvd last night, and I have to say that I liked it very much.  Multi-layered, well-acted and written.  Billed as a comedy, but we thought (the three adults who watched it) that drama was more the case, with humor thrown in.

Cancer update:  In July I will begin 5-6 weeks of daily radiation treatments to my head and neck. Shouldn't be painful, and is primarily preventative and highly recommended.  My case will be presented before the "tumor board" for final clarity by the doctor.  Main side effects from the radiation will be fatigue (what else is new?), dry mouth (again, not new), and a diminution of taste as taste buds will be temporarily affected.  I am speaking more clearly now and have started to eat more solid food, and pain from the surgery is pretty much gone, although tongue is stiff and the surgery scar is easily irritated.

Naturopath

Saw Dr. Artemis yesterday, and whatever she did made it a bit easier for me to speak. She gave me some powders and tinctures for my gastrointestinal health and immune boosters, etc. And she did some cranialsacral hands-on therapy.
http://http://www.craniosacraltherapy.org/Whatis.htm

I have an appt. with the oncologist on Monday. M. is picking me up shortly for a visit to the surgeon.

Camilla has come back to sleep with me some. She still loves her new bed, but esp. when it is cool at night she comes back to cuddle with me.

I'm trying to be patient, with myself and others. I'm not planning on any great cancer insights. Just another in the long line of people who have to deal with this crap. My house back here in sort of the woods is a good place to heal, so quiet, so many birds. There was some fight at dawn outside the window, I don't know if it was racoons or 'possums or something else. Not cats, for sure. But loud.

Sen-Sen

Two sensory memories from last night, I think it's the percoset. Nasty little drug. Remember those soapy licorice-y tasting tiny grey squares called Sen-Sen? That one, and then some lemon cologne from many years ago, very specific, but I can't remember the name. Memorial day.

Stayed low all day. C & D came over for a while; they took my huge hibiscus tree outside for me, and put her in the shade. They brought me peach sorbet but sugary foods are still too irritating. They will plant the seedlings that P. left for me in the community garden.

Trying to figure out how to get to the naturopath today. Thought I would be able to drive myself, but not on these chemicals.