Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Category Archives: Uncategorized


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Last day of Indian Summer?

This afternoon, on what might be the last absolutely beautiful day of fall, Katie and I went out to play Frisbee in the back yard.  What a glorious day!  The forsythia is blooming!  Does this mean it won’t bloom next spring?

The burning bush has a few leaves left, shining in the last light of fall.

Katie had a blast.  She brought the Frisbee back to me most of the time.

Though sometimes she took it off with her for a personal adventure that didn’t include me.

After so much running around it was time to take a quick break.

Then it was back to the fun.  Come ON Mom, throw it!

OK Katie-girl….here you go!


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Sometimes you should look a gift horse in the mouth

Some of you might be wondering what’s happened to the Senate Bill mandating Electronic On Board Recorders (EOBRs) for commercial trucks.  You remember — the bill I was so excited about when it was introduced.  (Click on the word excited to read my Sept 29 blog.)

Back then I told you that finally someone in the Senate was listening and was brave enough to buck the American Trucking Association; a group dead set against any installation of the monitoring device.  I was excited by the fact that a bill was being introduced and finally we might have a chance to make a big change that would save lives.

But even during my initial euphoria there hovered in the back of my mind the feeling that it was odd the two Senators bringing this to the floor were not people our group had worked with over the years, not Senators known to be active safety advocates.  Still, it was something of a gift, this bill  – and I was elated.   It didn’t matter, I thought, who introduces the bill if it resulted in EOBRs on trucks.

Turns out it DOES matter who introduces the bill.  Turns out you have to look at all things political carefully.  Turns out I was naive.

Because guess what?  Tucked into the middle of this bill was material that would make it illegal to use any information accumulated by the EOBR in any civil case a family might file against a truck company.   That would be like saying you can’t use the information gathered by the black boxes on airplanes to sue an airline after a crash, that you wouldn’t be able to use information from the black boxes on cars to sue an insurance carrier after someone hits you.  Turns out that the American Trucking Association knows that EOBRs are inevitable and they are trying to get their version of a bill passed before anyone notices that they’re not actually becoming more safety conscious.  That in fact they’re trying to cover themselves while looking like they’re concerned for the safety of people on the roads.

I am so frustrated.  And angry and sad and mystified.  Powerful organizations like the ATA are just so hard to fight when you’re just a little nonprofit.  They’ve got money and they aren’t afraid to use it.  But they didn’t count on this little nonprofit actually having someone (not me!) read the proposed bill.

And so the fight is on.  Though right now it’s more like a waiting game then a fight.  And every day we wait another 14 or so people die in crashes with commercial trucks.  How many more does it take before we really get noticed?

I’ll keep you posted.


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Haiti braces for Tomas

How much can one small country endure?  Especially one that started out with nothing, only to see what little they had lost in the rubble of an earthquake in January.  Now in November a hurricane is bearing down on the tent cities that so many have lived in for far too long.  Conditions are already too difficult there for those of us here in our snug homes to fully understand.

This morning as the hurricane bears down on some of the world’s most vulnerable, keep them in your hearts.  And after, if the worst happens, perhaps find a few dollars to send to the Red Cross or other agency that you support in Haiti’s behalf.


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Katie and the hose.

Husband and I were working in the yard last weekend moving some plants around and keeping them watered as we went.  Apparently there was a small  pinprick leak in the hose.  And of course Katie noticed right away.

It just had to be investigated.  Such fun to pounce on that little spray of water!

Surely a smart Sheltie can get that water to stop spraying…just one more pounce…Game ending score?  Sheltie zero.  Hose 10.


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Bookended Beige

I sit in a beige cubicle all day.  Beige padded walls, beige desk, dirty white tiled ceiling marked by a huge water stain from a leak prior to my time.  Florescent light just off center, shared by me and the person in the beige cubicle next door.   We work in a paperless world now;  no piles of work break up the emptiness.  No in basket, no out basket.  Just that beige expanse and the computer in the corner with it’s never ending flicker.  As jail cells go it’s not so bad.  Still.

This week the weather has provided some amazing sunsets on my drive home from work.  And often as I’ve driven into work I’ve headed directly into a golden peach sunrise, sometimes studded with clouds lit up in brilliant purples.  So much color and unbelievable beauty make those crazy commutes less stressful.

It occurred to me last night while driving into a beautiful violet and pink sunset that perhaps God was book-ending my dreary beige days to give me something to smile about.

It’s working.


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Lost in the music

Tonight was my first concert in a very long time.  The first time in years that I was sitting in the band rather than out in the audience.  It’s heaven.  I wish everyone could have the experience of being in the music; to hear the sounds as they’re being created before the notes head out over the heads of the audience.

This was our “Spooktacular” concert filled with scary music about snakes and magic and phantoms.  In fact we had our very own phantom, a tenor with a beautifully powerful voice, who sang music from Phantom of the Opera while we accompanied him.  He was singing about 18 inches from where I sat, and on a couple of occasions during the long piece of music I actually stopped playing, mesmerized by the power of his voice.

I didn’t want that piece of music to end, because when again will I be surrounded by sounds so exquisite, be so close to a voice like that?  I was treasuring it while it was happening, enjoying the full-up feeling of being totally happy, glad to be in the moment.

I said before that if everyone could play music, either alone, or with large groups, if everyone could get that special high from making something beautiful, if everyone in the world could create something, something so elusive, so transparent, so temporary, but so solid and powerful, if everyone could make music the world would be better.  I still believe that.

Wishing each of you days filled with wonder, music and art.  It can’t hurt.


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Forever peaceful

A last bit of story from our trip up north.  As we were leaving Grindstone City, way back on a dirt road we passed this:

It was a beautiful little hill with a family plot, all fenced in with obvious care.

We climbed the hill and quietly explored.  It was beautiful.  Maple trees were in full color, there was no sound except for birds and chipmunks.

We wandered about, reading the headstones, piecing together the family histories.  One stone caught my attention; a small unassuming stone of a little boy who was born and died the year I was born.  Next to him were his parents, who died many years later.

I stopped a moment and thought back to all the things I’ve done in my life.  While I was walking to kindergarten in my “milk money” dress, the one with pockets to carry the nickle for the week’s milk, this little boy was resting here.  When I graduated from high school, learned to drive a car,  went off to college, he was still here…when I bought my first house, got married, changed jobs, traveled…well…he was up on this beautiful little knoll.

For whatever reason I connected with this little boy who missed out on so much.  He should be about ready to retire now, he should have stories to tell his grandchildren.  He should be peacefully sitting on a porch somewhere, listening to the birds and chipmunks.

When things get hectic and crazy and when I’m overwhelmed and tired all I have to think about is a little boy forever peaceful up there on that knoll, and I’ll know that I’m the lucky one.

Peaceful or not, I’m the lucky one.


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Katie and the weave poles

I think some of you need a Katie fix.  Just because you haven’t seen her in a week doesn’t mean she hasn’t been doing her homework.

We’re working on weaves out in the backyard.

She’s got the general idea, the weaving in and out.

It’s just those darn entries that are difficult.  So hard to remember where to start Mom!

I’m using her frisbee as the “treat” at the end of the weaves.  Sometimes she gets so excited getting ready to run that she pops out one weave too early.

We’re working on it.