I've been SERVED!!!

My sister said that she had never seen a double rainbow until she saw the photo on my blog. Yet, that same day, she drove into Boston and saw this:

(You've got to be a little impressed at how the Weber sisters are able to digitally document so many precious moments in our lives...)

Web forwarded the above pic with a note:

"Rainbow War - I took an even better double rainbow photo

last weekend from our hotel in Boston...post that MoFo...

I guess God doesn't only love 'the gays'."

Now before i start to get any irate emails, i would never imply that God doesn't love straight people just as much as s/he loves homos- whoever got that idea, obviously didn't click on the link to notice that:

1) , and 2)

I was only saying that: a) gay pride rainbow stickers are not the only place to see these fabulous colors all together in a row- apparently, sometimes, they show up in nature too... b) When you think about God not only deciding that the rainbow would be the eternal symbol of a covenant of love with all humanity AND that it would also become the symbol of civil rights/ GLBT equality, you can see that God must really 'love the gays'... Lastly, c) Think of the context of my double rainbow: Pregnant lesbians have a huge party- a baby shower for their expectant TWINS- on a day that is bookended by WEEKS of thunderous rain (and not a drop fell at their house during that party, mind you) but on the way home, the most amazing rainbow i have ever seen appears?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Please don't tell me THAT isn't a sign (of God's love)!!!

Well, I know it doesn't seem it, but the entire purpose of this post/tirade is to point out that not only is my sister the bomb, but she seems to be improving. I cannot believe that the rainbow she saw was more impressive than the one I saw, but certainly that is the case regarding our two pics... This woman (my sister) is truly superior to most humans in most matters. [I am not worthy.] I started this discussion to offer props for her digital photography skills and her general "luck" in rainbow chasing, but i could meander to any number of anecdotal stories and/or empirical evidence: her fertility, her domestic and professional capabilities, her "can do" attitude, her zen approach to mothering, and by the way, have you seen this kid?!?

Marc Cohn has a song called "She's becoming gold." It's hard to know for sure, but the song seems to be about the changes in his wife as she becomes a mother. I always liked this notion- that a woman truly transcends the bullshit and somehow communicates with all that is known and unknown at this tender time of rebirth and redefinition (woman to mother)... I could relate to the inspiration behind the song, but never really understood the way i do now the shock and awe of standing next to someone you thought you knew (someone you definitely know REALLY well) and realizing that she is changing- big time! She is not becoming someone different. She is exactly who she has always been, but she is better somehow. She is shimmering and growing and glowing in ways that no one could have envisioned, planned, predicted, or described.

When I see my sister now, I'm kind of speechless. Not that I didn't admire and look up to her before, but she definitely seems to have grown a third eye. All of the sudden, as if by magic, she is calmer and more compassionate; more understanding, more expressive AND more under-stated; funnier and more light-hearted; more aware and comfortable in her own skin; more able to spread these things to those around her. She is moving slower than me and faster than me at the same time. I don't have an inferiority complex, she's moving slower than YOU and faster than YOU too! It is humbling to be in her presence... She can practically make double rainbows appear at will, but then she can make you feel as if you were the reason she saw the rainbow at all.

Weekend in Brooklyn

Here's to two of the coolest cats, who just tied the knot in a "committment ceremony" extraordinare!!! We love you guys!

Sign of the times

I'm so pissed off about this administration...i don't even have the words...

The weather- act 2

Now the sun is out... Let's hear a classic tune from the soundtrack of my life.

Have you ever seen the rain?

I know writing about the weather is totally uncool, But...
We are having the craziest thunderstorm right now. The sky is green, it is pouring, and the crackling is LOUD!!! (WOW- just as i wrote that, i jumped when a new boom exploded!) All this after about 22 days in the last 30 of rain, rain, crazy rain! The reason i decided to post is that there is this one very bizarre opening of gray cloud cover that allows me to see blue sky and sun as the storm rolls all around us. I feel lucky to have a solid house and a lazy day to comtemplate weather patterns. Nature and the weather: original entertainment programming for earth's subscribers.

Taste the Rainbow

Yesterday, on the way home from the best co-ed, intergenerational, multi-ethnic, lesbian BBQ/"Babies Shower" I've ever been to, we saw the most amazing rainbow. Of course, we were on an interstate at the time, so I don't have a great shot (this one is from sticking my Sony Cybershot out the window at 60 mph) but it was a full 'bow that spanned the sky, and it had at least 7 different bands of color. If you look in the left corner of the photo, it was actually a "double rainbow" with "supernumerary arcs" but who knows these things without the help of the internet and google. There's a section here on "perceived light" that is quite more than i care to sum up on this rainy Sunday. But i learned a little about light and ray refraction, and the anatomy of human eyeballs:

Even if you're sitting in the same car, looking out the same windshield- because rainbows look different from every relative point, and because every brain perceives the light signals uniquely, no two people see the same rainbow. (Side bar: Interesting metaphor for marriage.)

All i wanted to say is that the rainbow was AWESOME!
I've really never seen anything like it.
It made me feel like, maybe all those religious activists are right-

God loves the gays!

Polyps on my mind

It's 4 am EST and I got up to pee...
Can't help thinking of polyp removal and revascularization!

I mean, some things about the human body are so bizarre. Like stys in eyes- a very annoying little infection of the eyelids (I have a new one forming right now... and no! I have not- to my knowledge- "withheld anything from a pregnant woman.")

And like this ployp which was surgically removed not too long ago, but an apparently newer, improved, more tenacious polyp has grown back in it's place...

Seattle is not that far away, and yet it is. I will say this, it's too bad we don't own a private jet, with a pilot on standby, and unlimited vacation days. Even having none of these things, we are both about

THIS CLOSE

to just dropping everything and getting on a plane for the chance to sit in a waiting room for several hours in order to hold someone's hand for 10 minutes, or kiss someone on the forehead a few times before and after surgery... We love you and are thinking of you, J.

Play Ball

Yesterday was opening day for the Better Homes Consignment Babes of softball legend and lore. We had to play the evil "Kitchen that hides." These women are beasts. As we all get older, their frequent reconstructive knee surgeries say it all. Year after year, they take the field armed with tendon straps, elbow pads, and technically innovative joint hardware, lubricated for battle. Their excessive desire to win- no, TO DOMINATE- is something I can't wrap my brain around... Compared to the other teams in this league, who are only hoping for a little fresh air and some batting practice before an evening libation, their attention to victory can only be described as inappropriate zealotry.

Last night, the fields were wet and we had an 85 year old umpire. Montgomery Burns took position behind home plate and from the first pitch the situation became clear: Either "Blue Geeze" 1) was legally blind, or 2) He is known as "Grandpa" to someone on the opposing team, or 3) He had been threatened with bodily injury if he did not throw the game in their favor.

Don't get me wrong, there was no way we were going to win last night: We had 9 players and they had 10... They have been juicing up all spring (most likely with injectibles) we haven't touched our gloves or bats since last August... Still, on 3 separate defensive plays, we tagged out players who were called "safe." The women of "Hidden Kitchen" are not of the "it's a friendly game" mindset. If the ump makes an obvious error, they believe you should capitalize on it! Never cop to the fact that you were 2 steps off the bag when you felt the tag... Why encourage a reversal of the decision just because ancient eyes were clouded by Alzheimer's medication and made the call from from 40 feet away while squinting at the sunset?!? All's fair in Cheshire Women's League Softball for God's sake!!!

Poor sportsmanship aside, I had only one goal last night: To avoid a trip to the ER. We lost 14 to 2, but this morning, no one had their jaw wired shut and no one needed stitches or a shoulder popped back into place, so check off "success" on the score books for that one.

The most entertaining part of the night was when someone's TOTALLY UNCOOL mom came up to the softball field from a track meet and called the cops on our cooler caddy: "This is school grounds, you're NOT supposed to be drinking beer here." That poor lady. I hope she never has to fart, because there will definitely be some kind of high pressure ESSSPLOSION!!! So we were chased off to the parking lot of a mortgage company where we pounded a few Miller Lites to celebrate the first success of a new season!

Elderly joys

Working in a nursing home (or several, as the case may be) falls under the category of "When you were in high school, did you ever think you'd be ______?". That being said, I actually kind of like my job. The work itself is a little tedious: finding visits, seeing the same diagnoses (CHF, COPD, diarrhea, fever, cough, anxiety...) over and over and OVER again, fighting old ideas about ways to treat patients, keeping up the facade that I know more than I do (don't get me wrong, I know a lot, but perhaps the thing I know best is where to find the answer to the things I don't know), etc etc. Patients, and the eccentric families that come with them, can definitely be trying at times, but I secretly hope that my family will do the same for me when I'm old. So, while there are moments when I want to run screaming from the nursing homes (sounds like the beginning of a very funny novel), for the most part I enjoy going to work.

So, in honor of my new-found love of nursing homes, I've decided to attempt a weekly top 5 awesome/cool/funny/sad/poignant things that happened in my workplace(s).

Finding joy in a nursing home Week 1

5. In honor of Nursing Home Week the staff put on a talent show that pretty much showed their amazing talent to make fools of themselves. The patients LOVED it. Even the ones that can't see very well were laughing and smiling.

4. One of my patients with end-stage Multiple Sclerosis and total paralysis was sitting in the hall with a book on a bookstand. Every single person (aide, nurse, supervisor, administrator, secretary) that walked by offered to turn the page so that she actually got to read her book without having to ask every 5 minutes for someone to turn the page.

3. A favorite patient had to be sent to the ER to rule out a stroke, and she cried on the way out because she was scared. The aides that take care of her every day cried right along with her.

2. The same patient was working with the occupational therapist later that week, and couldn't remember what to do with a comb. But when asked who I was, she brightly said in her adorable English accent, "Why, that's Katy of course!"

1. Again as part of National Nursing Home week, the staff arranged to have an "extreme makeover" for several of the residents. It was one of the most emotional things I have ever seen. The residents who had the makeover were absolutely thrilled and talked about all day long. The staff cried when they saw them all made up. And one resident remarked that her roommate (who had the makeover) probably wouldn't be staying with her that night 'cause she was going to get swept away on a romantic date "looking like that". The kicker? That hot mama was given a hair cut as part of the makeover and it was nothing less than... a mullet.

The sun'll come out... tomorrow?

The sun finally made its reappearance yesterday and today after nearly 2 weeks of solid rain. And my flowers are ecstatic. The garden (courtesy of my mother) looks amazing. Everything is bushy and green and growing at an astounding rate (or they were until monsoon season came). The Siberian Irises are SO close to blooming, and the rose bushes we planted last year are covered in buds. The cat mint (nepeta), snow in summer (cerastium) and neon star (dianthus) are all blooming despite the crummy weather. And, finally, the lily leaf lady bells (adenophora lilifolia) are very very close (one more sunny day and they'll be out!).

Not to be outdone, the remaining plants (echinecea, blackeyed susans, day lilies, delphinium, sage, and lavendar) will be along shortly.

As if that weren't enough, my mother's christmas gift to me arrived today: 7 new rose bushes. They are tiny right now, but in good shape. Given the crowd scene in my existing gardens, it seems as though I have no choice but to dig another. But, as a good friend remarked mere weeks ago, sometimes good hard physical work is good to keep the worry of life away.

Finally, I also hung my hummingbird feeder this afternoon. If you've never sat on a porch and watched hummingbirds swarm a feeder, I suggest you try to do so this summer. It is simply divine.

LOST

K.T. and I just plowed through the entire first season of Lost on DVD. (Oh, netflix: i love you...)

This is a great show. And for those of you who have been telling me I should have been watching Lost all along I would just like to point out: Watching this show without commercials is sweetness that you cannot even comprehend!!! All those suspense filled, cliff-hanging (sometimes literally) moments instantly gratified and satisfied without a Hummer, McDonalds, or Outback Steakhouse coming into play! Or without (and I can NOT express enough gratitude for this) the God-Danged "Action News 8" teaser, "Which Connecticut interstate should you avoid on your commute home tonight? How did an asbestos fire affect some area school children- Jim Taint is standing by live at Chogginhog High [in the dark, where no one cares anymore, because nothing has happened at the school since 10 am...] Plus, How much rain can you expect tomorrow? Rob Knownuts will give you your first look at the weather, tonight at eleven..."

God, I really hate the local news.

Anyway, back to Lost. As I've said, I am only up thru season one, so most of you know a whole heck of a lot more than i do about the development of characters and (i say) "future" (you say "present") plot twists. But... Is it just me, or is Jack Shepard is a real asshole? I welcome the debate and/or backlash on this, but I mean how many times do I have to hear him screaming at everyone like he's the Lord of the Island. Sure, he's scruffy and cute, and i'm glad that one of the Salingers scored a successful gig, but I especially don't appreciate the verbal slapping around he heaps on Kate all the time. Just because she is HOT, doesn't mean she's not smart and capable. If he would stop barking orders long enough to notice her costume changes, (HELLooooooooo, Cargo pants!) I think that he would display some desperately needed humility. The chicks on that island are running, jumping, bleeding, shooting, and fixing things as much as the dudes, but the women have to absorb all of the yelling, snide comments, and nagging condescension of the frightened, needy, and frustrated men ... Mu-THER! Just once when Jack and Sawyer are taking turns insulting and berating Kate, I'd like her to drop kick the both of them into silence- it is so unrealistic that her character doesn't stick up for herself more.

The only other thing that is hard to take is that "realism" suffers due to the obvious censoring of these characters. (How else to allow their story on prime time?) Most of these situations cause me to unconsciously stammer a curse or two- out from under my fleece throw on the living room couch. I mean, Sawyer, John Locke, Jack, Kate... these are some tough nuts! That there aren't F'bombs flying all around each and every time a monster tries to eat someone, or a stick of dynamite blows a survivor into tiny, wet chunks makes me feel a little dead inside. Nothing says fear, lack of control, or losing a grip on your sanity like a string of four letter words. For example, when i started driving in Boston, I shocked myself with unexpected, foul-mouthed brilliance. (Driving in Boston is a little like being sold by your family to the owners of a brothel, you've got to learn to FIGHT to survive...) And that was DRIVING in Boston for God's sake... that was not surviving a plane crash and fighting the elements, injuries, disease, plus aliens or demons or dinosaurs, or a living island, or whatever the hell these people are fighting!!!

Anyhoo, I don't know what we are going to do for the 3-4 hours a day we were catching up on the show that all our peeps are addicted to... it is hard enough avoiding the media blitz when the TV is switched to DVD mode. Talk to you when season two comes out, I guess...

Oh one more thing. This show has confirmed what i've always known- NEVER, never dress up when flying... If you gotta look good when you get there, bring a garment bag on board and change in the airport bathroom. Casual dress is really important... and for heaven's sake, on an airplane: wear boots and dress in layers!!!

As promised: Coffee talk with a 7 week old

Bath time

ET, Is that you?

Hanging out with G'pa

Gettin' some lovin'

Pretty strong family resemblance, no?

Mother's Day

One time I took a vacation and drove with a friend to Texas. We made a sightseeing tour of the trip- CT, NY, PA, thru the Blue Ridge Mountains, spent 3 days in Shenandoah National Park... We mostly camped. It was summer (in the south.) It was hot as holy fire, so it was ridiculously cheap to camp. When we hit Nashville, we stayed in a hotel for a day or two. Then we moved on: saw Graceland, took a bath in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and after almost two weeks made our way to Houston.

It was an amazing time, but once in Texas, I got the worst stomach bug of my life. (I guess it should come as no surprise that my body rejected some aspect of Texas that I have never specifically identified.) Anyway, after the Independence Day fireworks, I couldn't stop puking and, well... using the bathroom for other purposes too...

I didn't know what to do. I was very dehydrated and due to fly home in 2 days. Starting to think that i might need to bring myself to the ER, I was terrified about presenting to a Level One trauma center- a teaching hospital- the first week of July. (July as some of you might know is when med students become "doctors," and more terrifying, the "first year doctors" become "residents," the medical staff in charge of the care of hospitalized patients.)

At the time, I was a pretty competent, independent-minded (read: cocky) ICU nurse. But when I started to decompensate because I couldn't keep food or fluid from shooting out of my body, I started to panic. Near tears, I called my parents home:

"Mommy... (sniff, sniff) I'm sick... I don't know what to do..."

Nance rattled off a list of ways to stay hemodynamically stable until i could board a plane... "Try some saltines and Pedialyte® pops...if they don't stay down, don't eat anything else until you get home... you won't starve in 24 hours." There were several more brilliant notions I can't recall now. I remember wondering how she could offer such extensive advice in less than a moment's notice: Did she keep a list of first aid and GI remedies near the phone for this type of incident?!?

Truth is, it didn't matter what she told me, it was really just her voice I was seeking. I needed her to tell me that I would be okay. My mom is crazy-good in crisis mode. She turns drama, tragedy, and despair into methodical, routine troubleshooting ventures. She worries endlessly about her children, but has taught us a non-alarmist approach to anxiety, illness, and injury. Her calm-in-crisis and her ability to communicate real remedies are just two examples of her fortitude and overwhelming capability.

Aside from sharing an aptitude for crisis management, my mother and I are very different in style, inclination, and talents. Her taste in collectibles and scented makeup confounds me. The degree to which I am able to ignore clutter and grime in my personal space leaves her flabbergasted. She sets the table 2 nights before the dinner party. I am ironing the tablecloth- naked except for a towel- about to jump in the shower as my guests arrive. Mom and i know each other too well. When we tease one another, we have to be careful that the jibes aren't too sharp. She admires me and I admire her. But we do it perhaps more privately than either of us should.

That brings us to the purpose of this post...

DISCLAIMER: Mother's Day seems like such a contrived holiday. Mother's Day after it has been pouring rain for 7 consecutive days seems like a sham! But if it takes a Hallmark® holiday on a chilly, cloudy, water-logged day to get me to finally post about my mom, I guess Woodrow Wilson made the right call on this one!

More and more frequently, I am struck (as I was that puke-filled weekend in Houston) not only by how well I have been loved by her, but how deeply and abundantly I love her... My mom has given me everything that she knew to give and it is more than I could have known to want. She has taught me well what it is to put fears and insecurities aside; to fight odds, to face life; to love hard and love deep. She has taught me literally and figuratively the importance prioritizing children and relationships: building confidence and independence is as much about swaddling, cradling, rocking, and singing sweet lullabies as it is about taking the training wheels off and letting someone feel the pain of the fall- when getting up after falling is the next thing that must be accomplished.

I would enter Nance into a contest and invite you to think of my mother HIGH on the totem pole of the great, mythological creatures celebrated in Robitussin® and Tide® commercials, but that is not what I think Mother's Day should be about. Most mothers, my mom included- aren't herculean. She is not some magical nymph of elevated powers. She is human. It is in her vulnerabilities and struggles, her vision and determination that I have witnessed heroism and learned about true love.

I love you, Momma. Happy YOU Day! You're the Bomb!
_________________________________

Happy Mother’s Day to all you other Mo-Fo’s out there too!

Raise the roof

Just a warning: This blog is in danger of becoming an ode to Mac. The photos that come at me digitally are so easy to upload and so adorable, I just can't resist. I decided that maybe we will do a periodic, photographic "Coffee Talk" with Mackie... where I will upload 3- 7 of my favorite pics of the moment. This post is like the local news: "And coming up... more adorable photos of my sister's baby... after the headlines, weather, sports, and these commercial breaks."

By the way, even though it seems that Mac is shielding her eyes from the bright, flashing bulbs representative of her fame and popularity, this is how the kid sleeps- When she is sleeping, she just stretches her arms up in the air and they hang there. Gravity means nothing to my niece. I guess being out here in the atmosphere with us still feels like floating in the womb to her...

It is so [expletive] cute i could fall down on the ground, spin on my head, pound my fists, and giggle until i cry!

(Bet you wish you had a pic of that!)

I'm glad it wasn't my decision

Something about Zacarias Mousaoui sentencing verdict chills me.
He was given life in prison and not the death penalty.

In the last few years, I've realized that I'm fairly anti-death penalty. It's not that i don't agree that some crimes should be punishable by death. Some crimes are so despicable, that perpetrators should be dealt the ultimate punishment. My opposition revolves more around utility and fairness. It is more inexpensive, for example, to just keep someone locked up for 50 or 60 years than to spend 20 years in court on appeals trying to put the criminal to death. Further, I am stunned by the permanence of the act of execution… How can you be certain of the guilt of an individual that spends 20 years in and out of court, swearing under oath that s/he is innocent? Especially, when historical evaluation reveals that our judicial system is much more likely to execute poor or dark-skinned convicts (as compared to their wealthier or lighter-skinned counterparts) I am inclined toward the sentiment, “It is better to let 100 guilty men live, than put one innocent man to death.”

This case, however, was the first time in a while that I was leaning towards “death.” I was not tending toward capital punishment because of the September 11^th connection, or even because this of this terrorist’s zealous admissions of guilt. Something in the prosecution's closing statement stuck me: That this man would always be a threat to Americans and anyone he came in contact with. That because of his ideology and lack of remorse, if not executed, he would always seek to injure and kill Americans- his guards, his fellow inmates, anyone that he had access to would always be in danger.

When the sentence came yesterday, I was surprised and a little concerned. But then I was relieved. How great for America that this jury decided not to execute this man. What an amazing judicial system. A jury of everyday citizens decided (after scrutinizing more evidence about terrorist plots than the rest of us will ever be privy, seeing more gruesome depictions of 9/11 than most of us will ever see, hearing repeated outbursts from Z.M. that he was happy for the pain and deaths of innocent Americans, and in complete rejection of the notion that he was insane) that his actions were criminal and illegal and heinous, but that revenge for September 11^th should and could not LEGALLY be taken out on this one man.

We’re at war. In many places overseas, we are known as occupiers, torturers, crazed monsters- out for blood to compensate for blood that was spilt in 2001.

But when a criminal- a terrorist- is brought to justice in America, he is given a lawyer and a defense, even if he tries to refuse. And when a jury decides, not even the police, or the army, or George W. Bush can interrupt that derivation of justice.

It's kind of mind-blowing.