Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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For AnnaLeah and Mary

Many of you know that I volunteer for the Truck Safety Coalition, a nonprofit in Washington DC that works to make our roads safer by pushing for legislative and rule making changes.  We work both through our members of Congress and through the Department of Transportation and other agencies that regulate the trucking industry.  You know that I do this in memory of my Dad who was killed by a tired trucker in December of 2004.  So when you read a post dedicated to the issue of safety on our roads you run the risk of having to listen to me get on my soapbox.  I’m grateful that you humor me on this because I tend to get a bit passionate, and I know that most of you are already on my side and I’m probably preaching to the choir.  Still…

Humor me one more time and listen to the story of AnnaLeah and Mary.

Last May while my family and I were joined in Washington DC with many other families who have been touched by needless tragedy, while we were sitting in the DOT board room being told by different members of that agency why they hadn’t accomplished tasks they’ve been working on for years, while we listened to excuse after excuse why minimum insurance requirements hadn’t been raised yet, why stronger rear underride guards hadn’t been mandated, why there were no studies of side underride guards at all, why the federally legislated electronic onboard recorders weren’t already implemented ..well… while we were there listening to all these excuses AnnaLeah and Mary were dying in a horrific crash.  Two beautiful girls just gone, another family irreparably changed.

You can hear their mother tell her story here, she does a lovely job, but I understand if you don’t want to listen.  If you want to remain untouched.  If it can happen to them, it can happen to anyone.  Best not to know, right?

Well, here’s the short version:  They were driving from North Carolina, heading to Texas for the wedding of their oldest sister.  In Georgia they were hit by another vehicle and were spun under a semi.  If that truck had had underride guards perhaps the girls would not have been killed.  Did you know that every industrialized country in the world has underride guards on their semi trucks?  But not the United States.    Next time you’re driving next to a semi glance over and see where that underside of that trailer would hit you in a crash.  Even a crash that you didn’t cause.

Think about that.  It doesn’t have to be your fault and you can still die.  Family and friends can still die.  Truck companies don’t want to put protection on their vehicles to save lives of people in cars.  They don’t think it’s their responsibility.  They don’t want to incur the costs.  It’s all about profit.  But who is really paying for their profit?  You and I and our families are paying that cost.  Every single day.

OK.  I’ll get off the soapbox now.  Please, just go to this site and read a little bit.  Sign the petition that we plan to take to Secretary of Transportation Foxx in May, one year after AnnaLeah and Mary died.  We want to convince him to join us in the fight on three issues:

1.  Increase the minimum insurance truck companies have to carry to cover the damage to families involved in crashes with them.  It hasn’t been raised in 30 years.

2.  Get the electronic onboard recorders implemented to keep drivers from cheating on their logbooks and driving longer hours than allowed.

3.  Act to improve the safety of trucks by requiring better underride guards.

Even if you can’t listen to AnnaLeah and Mary’s Mom talk about her girls and the trip across country that ended not in a family wedding but in family tragedy, take a moment to read to the end to find out what else you can do to help.  And think about these two beautiful kids next time you’re on the road driving behind or beside or in front of a semi.  Think about these kids and convince yourself it’s not your problem.

I dare you.


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Pick a note

Most of you know I play in a community band.  We practice on Tuesday nights.  Tonight I was feeling guilty for not practicing during the week, and tired from a crazy day at work.  I was thinking that maybe this one time it would be OK not to go to band.  But I had music my husband had pulled from the music library that the director had requested, and I couldn’t just drop that off and run.  So I stayed.

And I have to say, this evening, like every Tuesday night, I was glad I stayed to play.   I let the music pick up my spirits, enjoyed the challenge of getting a little bit better at the parts I should have practiced, heard new rhythms and underlying phrases of other sections,  figured out how some of it went together.  I always leave rehearsal feeling better than I did going in and there’s something worthwhile in that alone.

I’m so lucky to have this outlet, a place to let the rest of the world go and just have fun; I don’t think most adults can say they have something similar.  Certainly as we get older we get fewer opportunities to do something that other people actually applaud for.   Music does that for me and don’t think for a minute I don’t appreciate it.   Even when our audience is small I appreciate the fact they come out and clap enthusiastically.  It makes those of us playing feel young again, makes us smile, makes us glad we could share the fun we get to enjoy every Tuesday night.

Tonight she handed out a new piece of music, something unique, with sounds not classical or jazz or rag.  It is called “Africa:  Ceremony, Song and Ritual” composed by Robert W Smith.  You can listen to it here.  It’s almost 9 minutes but worth the time.

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At about 46 seconds in you’ll hear a weird sound, hard to describe, sort of like a metal whistle but not.  Our tympani player is a high school student,  and this instrument was in his part but he didn’t know what it was.  The director found it for him, and he asked how to play it.  It’s a metal rectangle with a piece sticking up and a wire of some sort.  I can’t say I got a good look at it.  She told him how to play it, he tried it out and then he grinned from ear to ear the whole rest of the piece.  It was so neat to see a high school student enthralled with learning something new.  I talked to him about it at the break, as he was practicing different effects out in the hall.  He said it was dangerous, you could get your finger caught in it.  I said it was dangerous because if it got played at the wrong moment everyone would know.  He started laughing and said that was true about everything he played.  Good point.

But the part in my music that made me stop, almost made me laugh out loud in the middle of rehearsal was this.  Do you see it?  At measure 180?

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It says ‘pick a note.’   This is what went through my mind the first time we got to this measure:  “Pick a note?  What note?  Should it be in the key we’re in?  Probably not, probably it should be something weird, totally out of character.  What would that be?”

It took me so long to analyze those three words that I missed playing anything at all during the two measures.  As did most of the band.  We all sort of petered out as our minds tried to comprehend that we could choose any note we wanted.  For two whole measures we were free, and what we ended up doing was nothing much at all.  I’m sure by next week we will have all chosen our note and the sound will be…well…interesting.  On the recording these two measures start at 8 minutes and 37 seconds.  You can decide for yourselves how strange and/or cool it sounds.

See?  This is the kind of fun we have on Tuesday nights.  We get to do different things, interact with different people.   I wish everyone could do something just for themselves once a week.  The world would be a better place.

Indulge yourselves.  Find your passion.  Grow a little, learn a little, meet a few more interesting people.  You won’t be sorry.

And I promise, if I can get there, I’ll come clap for you.

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Katie’s park

Katie here.  Have you missed me?  Let me tell you, I’ve been through the wringer!  Between my Dad being gone, and me being sick, it’s been really stressful here!  And did I tell you that our winter was terrible?!  I think my Mom showed you the picture of me in the snow with only my eyes and ears showing.

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(Don’t worry, I was really standing in my path and my person was over in the driveway, they didn’t really bury me!)

Well I’m happy to tell you that most of that darn snow has melted, my Dad is home, I feel great, and this past weekend my Mama took me to my park!  It’s been forever since I’ve had a real adventure.  I don’t count that unfortunate trip to the pet food store a couple of weeks ago when I accidentally wet all over the floor.  Mama doesn’t like to talk about that.  It was her fault anyway, so best not bring it up, OK?

Sunday I got to go to my park for the first time since last fall!  It was wonderful!  I did make my Mama carry me around this one big puddle, but other than that I had fun sniffing and checking out all the pee-mail that had been left for me.

 

Big cold puddle!

Big cold puddle!

It was wet and muddy, my feet got cold and I got a lot of stuff stuck to my furs, but it was still wonderful!  We walked way back to this little deck at the very edge of the park.

 

Mama likes this deck!

Mama likes this deck!

Mama spent a long time watching the ducks and geese out on the little lake until I reminded her that we were supposed to be walking around my park!

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On the way back to the car I got sort of tired.  After all this was my first long walk of the season.  But Mama had treats and we worked a little bit and that got me all excited again.  I was happy to get back in the car though and when we got home Mama and I took a nice long afternoon nap.

I love weekends!  I hope the snow is gone for good, because I think my Mama will take me back to the park next weekend if the weather is good!  I can not wait!

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Street Life

This week’s WordPress photo challenge is “Street Life.”  I went down to Detroit this morning and parked near Greektown, hoping for something.  But the light wasn’t great in Greektown itself, so I was wandering back to my car when I saw the towers of General Motors combined with the People Mover track overhead, the red brick factories converted to shops and lofts, and the tourists walking below.

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I liked it, so I stood in the middle of the empty street and shot it.

Also on the way back to the car I saw a man, maybe Niki himself, standing outside a Greek pizza parlor…

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…and unfortunately, a couple of homeless people sleeping near a grate.

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Combined, these images show a version of the streets in the city of Detroit.  There’s much more, of course, to this city – – much that is less photogenic.  I saw some of that too but was not comfortable enough to stop.  It reminded me that those of us out in the suburbs, in the country, driving our big SUVs, mowing our lawns, shopping in our trendy stores, have no idea what life is really like just a few miles down the road.

So that’s my street life submission.  You can see a few of my favorites here, here and here.  What does the street life in your part of the world look like?  I’d be interested, and there’s plenty of time.  You can post your images till next Friday at the WordPress site here.

I love how these challenges take us all over the world.

Enjoy!

 

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25 Comments

Of summer

Let’s talk of things summer now.  Let’s skip right past the waylaid spring and move right into the hot muggy days of summer, when the frogs sing at night and the lightening bugs glow, when the grass is damp beneath bare feet and the windows  stay open all day.  Yes, let’s talk of summer.   Of yellow gold finches and monarch butterflies and roses blooming and summer evenings that stretch into forever.

They are turning yellow!

They are turning yellow!

One of my favorite things about summer is ice cream.  What?  You thought I was going to continue on about warm dark nights and low hanging stars?  Heck no.  This is about ice cream!

I’ve always said there is no bad ice cream.  There is cheap ice cream and expensive ice cream, low fat, low sugar and the really good stuff made out on the farm where the cows live just yards away.  But there’s no such thing as bad ice cream.

Last May I met an older gentleman in Washington DC who thought along the same lines as me when it came to ice cream.  We were seated across from each other during the first meal of the conference, getting to know each other, sharing our stories.  The meal came to an end and the waiter asked if anyone was having dessert.  Normally I decline, but the gentleman across the table asked if they had any ice cream.  As the waiter listed the meager options the elderly man said “There’s no such thing as bad ice cream, I’ll have the chocolate.”  My head snapped up and I responded, “That’s what I always say!”   We high-fived each other across the table and I ordered ice cream too.

I thought I’d always feel that way about ice cream.  Until this week.  This week I happened upon this at the grocery store, sitting innocently in the freezer next to other icy treats.

Looks yummy.

Looks yummy.

 

150 calories for the whole pint.  “Huh” I thought.  “There’s no such thing as bad ice cream, and 150 calories for the whole thing?”  Into the cart it went.  At home I doled out a measly  couple of tablespoons because I was too excited to read the directions that said let it stand out for ten minutes before serving and it was rock hard.   Chocolate peanut butter.  No such thing as bad ice cream, yep, this was going to be good.

It tasted faintly of something.  Perhaps chocolate, certainly not peanut butter.    There was a memory of chocolate if you concentrated real hard, but in reality it tasted more like weak, cold dishwater.  Distinctly soapy.  I tried again the next night, another couple of table spoons, but I ended up tossing it and this post is my public service announcement.  Hard as it is to believe, there can be bad ice cream.  This is it.

Don’t waste your money.

Summer was meant to be enjoyed.  Head out to the dairy farm for your ice cream.  You won’t regret it.

We make good ice cream.

We make good ice cream here.

 

 

 


22 Comments

Was going to

Was going to blog about any number of things today.  Had them all lined up.  But I have to tell you a couple of things not related to any of that.

Even though my yard looks like this today, which doesn’t seem all that spring-like…

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1.  I SAW a pair of sandhill cranes flying over Katie’s park when I was driving to Ann Arbor to go to the symphony yesterday evening!  Their flight is so distinctive.  I got to watch them for quite awhile, and I smiled every second of it.

2.  This morning there was a red winged blackbird on my feeder, more proof they are really here.  Now this sort of makes me smile, and sort of makes me not smile.  They are such pigs.  They eat so much food they can eat me out of house and birdseed over a weekend.  But I know they’re hungry, just like all the rest of the birds, so for now I’m opting to smile.  Because they are truly signs that spring is not only on it’s way, it’s already here.

3.  I was just giving Katie a little shoulder massage while looking out the window and I saw a bird in my little redbud tree.  Then it flew to the ground and back up again.  I ran for the camera, but by the time I got back it had moved to the top of a small spruce hidden behind some bare branches of a shrub.  But you can tell it’s a bluebird!!   There were actually two males be bopping around the yard.  I couldn’t get a good photo of either of them, the light was bad, so you’ll have to settle for this one.

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I’m so happy I could sing….and I was…singing along with a clip of Jimmy Fallon’s show, but that’s another blog.

Happy happy dance.

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14 Comments

Spring? Are you sure?

Pretty

Pretty

This is not my garden.  Did you think maybe?  I can only hope.  First of all chipmunks have long since eaten all my crocus bulbs.  And second, my garden still looks like this right now:

Not pretty

Not pretty

This is, instead, a lovely handwritten note sent by a friend through snail mail, to surprise me on the first day of spring.  And it did indeed surprise me.  But more importantly it made me smile.  A lot.  The whole effect, the beautiful flowers and the getting something in the mail, made my day and I want to say thank you.  Thank you very much.  You know who you are.

In our part of the world it doesn’t look much like spring, though we got rain last night instead of more snow, so there is hope.  And a professor friend of mine posted on Facebook yesterday that the sandhill cranes were back.  She lives an hour south of me, so I expected I’d hear them soon.  They have such a distinctive cry you can’t confuse it with anything else.  And do you know what?  This very morning as Katie and I were out front slogging along in the soggy yard looking for the perfect spot there arose from the treetops across the street such a screeching that we both jumped.  The sound bounced off the houses and careened around spruce trees.  I never saw them, but it was evident they were right there!  I laughed out loud and Katie looked at me in question.  Did you hear that girl!?  Did you here THAT!  And what happened next just added proof to the pudding.

A red winged blackbird sang.  And sang again so there was no mistake.  Sometime last night, while we were lying awake listening to the rain on the roof the real spring arrived in my very own neighborhood.

Katie and I took the camera out back to see if we happened to have anything popping up from the ground.  All we found was this:

Faint hope

Faint hope

Do you see?  Let me get closer:

Proof

Proof

It’s not much, but in combination with my birds, well, I can finally let my shoulders fall back from up around my ears where they were shivering.  I can take a deep breath and taste the warm muggy days to come.  I can look out over my snow covered yard and envision the pear tree and redbud blooming.  Someday there will be daffodils after all.  I had so little faith.

Katie says all today means to her is that there is less snow on the deck and more sticks that need breaking up into sheltie sized pieces.  She thinks that’s good enough for now.

Sticks Mama!

Sticks Mama!

I think she’s a smart dog.

I know I am.

I know I am smart.


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Weekly photo challenge: Inside

WordPress has challenged us with finding a photo that represents inside.  I think we’ve had that challenge before.  I remember seeing flowers inside my kitchen window last fall.  So all the ‘inside’ ideas I thought of this weekend involving windows I chucked.  And of course some of you have seen a photo just like this when I posted about my sister’s visit here last summer.  But I don’t have access to my archives at the moment, so Katie and I went out to the driveway and recreated her version of inside…outside.

Love my tunnel!  Got a treat?

Love my tunnel! Got a treat?

Of course this involved me setting her up in a ‘wait’ and then casually walking down to the other end, lying on the cold hard asphalt and yelling ‘COME!”  A couple of times.  And this was the best we could get.  It makes me smile, so that works.

She’s a very good girl.

Here and here and here and here you can find a few of my favorite versions of ‘inside’ from the WordPress blog.  Or go there yourself and see even more!


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Snow dimples

As you know we got a fresh nine inches of snow on Wednesday.  Then the sun came out.  By Friday it was quite a bit warmer, and by afternoon the wind was howling.

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As the sun lowered in the sky and shadows got deeper and longer it became apparent that all those smooth snow canvases that had showcased earlier shadows were now sculpted into hummocks and frozen waves.

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I like to think of them as snow dimples.  And I wanted to show you.

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Because as many of you said we might as well enjoy the weather we’ve got while it’s here.

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Soon enough we’ll be complaining about the heat.

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