Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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Hard hit

Stormy times

Stormy times

The safety of everyone on our roads and highways took a big hit last week. The Comprehensive Transportation and Consumer Protection Act of 2015 (S. 1732) passed out of the Commerce Committee and is headed to the full Senate complete with all the anti-safety aspects that we fought to extract. The ability for a truck company to hide safety statistics from the public, to allow the hiring of 18 year olds to drive across the country (some states had higher minimum ages, but this will now be overrun by federal law), creating more hoops for the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration to jump through in order to mandate higher insurance requirements, all of these and more are still included in the bill. Every amendment presented by a safety conscious Committee Member lost by one vote, or by a voice vote. Every amendment offered by a American Trucking Association supported Committee Member passed.

The voting was straight down party lines.

I don’t understand. If you’re elected by the majority of people in your state, but you’re only going to vote the party line without listening or even considering another opinion, what’s the point of discussing anything at all? If you can’t listen to the safety concerns of many of your constituents, if you can’t let the overwhelming evidence sway you even the slightest toward safety, if you are more concerned about your campaign contributors than the safety of regular citizens, well, then there is no hope for the future.

I’ll be honest. It has been a difficult few months. It’s hard to look forward and figure out what the next move is. Obviously the next move is to call Senators when S1732 gets to the floor of the full Senate. But sill, it’s been so discouraging. It would be easy to just let it go. I’m beginning to wonder if we’re wrong. Maybe this is what the population wants…larger trucks, younger drivers, longer driving hours, the public shouldering the expenses when a crash occurs…if so, so be it.

I was driving this morning, looking for a photo challenge shot. Out in the cornfields of rural America I had all sorts of negative thoughts bouncing around my brain. But as I drove the dirt roads, past farms and small towns, other voices started to push their way into my brain. Voices of the families. The sons and daughters, wives and husbands, siblings, grandparents, and parents of those we’ve lost. I remember saying years ago that if we saved one life my family would be even, and my sister responding emphatically that no we wouldn’t. We’ll never be even, never be whole, no matter how hard we work.

But that’s no excuse for giving up. It’s no excuse for abandoning those who can no longer speak, no excuse not to expose the horrors and the grief, no excuse not to push for change.

By the time I made my way back home I had taken a deep breath and begun thinking about what’s next. There is more than one way to approach safety. If we can’t get it done through Congress maybe we can get something done through the DOT. And if the DOT can’t get anything done then maybe we go straight to the big trucking companies. We’ve already done that with one, that company realizes that safe can be profitable. Maybe we just have to spread that word. Meanwhile we still provide support and advice and love to the families who have been forever changed by truck crashes, one family at a time.

We lost big time this month. But we won’t give up and we won’t go away. There’s only one way to move and that’s forward.

Did I get the photo I was looking for? You’ll have to wait and see.

Clouds around every corner.

Clouds around every corner.


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Walking through debate theory

Thinking about stuff

Thinking about stuff

When you feel passionately about something it’s only natural that you’ll come across others that feel differently, people who are just as passionate about their own views. And with social media we often see up close and personal all the different opinions of the people we call friends. Where a political opinion or a religious comment might be left silent in our face to face dealings, the misplaced feeling of anonymity causes many of us to open right up about what we feel strongly about when we’re online.

I’ve never been a great debater. I don’t even like watching debates because I can see both sides of most arguments, and I don’t like to see anyone lose. But these days with politics continually running on 24/7 news stations there’s lots of fodder for posts. And people take sides loudly and regularly. Sometimes it’s made me uncomfortable…and a few times I’ve thought about unfriending folks who have vastly different opinions about religion and politics than my own.

But I’ve never unfriended anyone. Because if I unfriend someone because they think different than me how will I get to hear the other side of the argument? How can there be any expansion of my mind, any reconsideration of other points of view if I don’t even see their comments?

I thought about all of this yesterday during a morning walk. I was having a Facebook debate about a truck safety issue with a friend. We don’t agree on some things because we come from different life experiences. We base our opinions on the things we know. That’s what everyone does. Some things we will have to agree to disagree about. Other things will be resolved on common ground.

In the end what I came to realize on my walk is that friends don’t have to like the same things, think the same things, support the same things. Friends just have to be open to new ideas, respectful of different points of view. Debate, as uncomfortable as it is, is how change happens.

And change can be good, even when it’s hard.


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Suburban wildlife – or- not so wordless Wednesday

It’s beginning to amaze me the beautiful things that are in my yard during any given day. And to think all this has been going on here at home for years while I’ve been off at work.

Katie likes to bark a warning to us humans sitting on the sofa. By the time we get up and look outside she has managed to chase whatever it was away. But just in the last two days I’ve noticed, on my own with no help from her, plenty of goings on in the yard.

Of course we have the Orioles visiting daily. Sometimes hourly. Do you think this one is a juvenile or just a wet female?

Looking for "more grape jelly lady!!"

Looking for “more grape jelly lady!!”

It’s a good thing Katie didn’t see this little guy at the birdbath right outside her favorite window.

"Hey!  Anybody in there?!"

“Hey! Anybody in there?!”

Do you think the butterfly on the house realizes there are two garter snakes curled up sleepily below?

Look out below!

Look out below!

And just now, in the back yard we had a visitor. Katie didn’t see this either.

Looking for rabbits in all the right places.

Looking for rabbits in all the right places.

Good thing she didn’t. All heck would have broken out.

What's that smell over there?

What’s that smell over there?

So much going on in my own yard that I don’t have time for cooking and cleaning and such. Must keep vigilent, as a sheltie, who will remain nameless, seems to be napping on the job.

STILL no grape jelly lady!

STILL no grape jelly lady!


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Camping contemplations

Many of you know that Katie the dog and I went camping last week. What you might not have known is that the State Park where we pitched our tent is only one exit and six miles north of home.

This is my campsite!

This is my campsite!


But it’s a world away.

I’ve been thinking the last few days about why we’d go camping so close to home. Why not just pitch the tent in the back yard? (And you know we do that too.) Why go to the trouble of packing up the car with tent and bedroll, pillows, blankets, food, leashes, dog dishes, cameras, tinder, firewood. The dog and her crate.

Got any snacks mama?

Got any snacks mama?

Why walk almost 1500 steps to the bathroom and back in the middle of the night? Why drench yourself and the dog with bug spray and sunblock, sleep in two (or three) layers of clothes under several blankets, wake up with a start at every snapped branch in the woods.

Welcome to my tent!

Welcome to my tent!

Why not just take walks in the woods with your dog during the day and sleep in your own bed safe, sound and warm in your own house every night? Why, as soon as you get home, do you immediately want to plan the next trip?

And here’s what I’ve realized. When you’re out in the woods for hours on end, you slow down. You notice that bird you’ve never seen before. You listen to all the birds begin to sing long before the sun comes up. You read a book. You take a walk. You take a nap. Then you read some more, contemplate the campfire, maybe raise a roasted marshmallow in toast to the memories of camping with family all those years ago.

You relax.

Our perfect private site!

Our perfect private site!

When you camp away from home there is no laundry that should be started, no gardens to weed, no groceries to be found, meals to be cooked. When you camp away from home you find peace and freedom and beauty and quiet joy.

And that’s why Katie and I are already thinking about our next adventure.

Close to home.

Wake up mama!

Wake up mama!


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Cee’s flower challenge

Check out Cee’s blog where she sports a beautiful sunflower and challenges us to show everyone a flower from our own yards.

Well, you’ve seen many of the flowers in my garden, but this one is interesting.

Will be bright red soon!

Will be bright red soon!

It’s a crocosmia. The foliage is green spiky leaves perhaps 3 or more feet tall which remind me of gladiola leaves. The flowers open up one by one from one end of this bud to the other. This one happens to be bright red, but I’ve seen them in other shades of red and orange. They are stunning.

It’s a perennial so it comes up year after year, and each year there are more. I’m going to have to move some of these to another spot, so if anyone who lives near would like a few for a corner of their own garden let me know! (Click the small photo to see more detail.)

Pretty

Pretty


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Memories of black raspberries

Berries in bowl

Berries in bowl


Warm, sweet, juice running down your fingers. That’s the way I remember the black raspberries I picked behind my grandpa’s workshop on the farm years ago when I was a kid. We each got to spend a few days at grandma’s house during the summers back then. I tried to choose days when the black raspberries were ripe and if we were lucky Grandma and I had fresh berries on our cereal every morning.

Years later my sister came here for a visit and we went for a long bike ride. One of the highlights that day was coming across a huge patch of black raspberries, hundreds ripe for the picking. So we did, turning our fingers purple with memories.

This year in my own backyard, where I haven’t noticed any growing before, I found plump ripe berries today. Reaching into the thorny bushes for the perfect berry I was 12 again and back behind the workshop picking for my grandma’s breakfast.

It was sweet.

Grandpa's workshop

Grandpa’s workshop


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Yard treasures

Mr. Oriole comes for grape jelly.

Mr. Oriole comes for grape jelly.


One of the joys of being retired is time spent in my own back yard. There’s time to sit on the deck out back, watch the clouds scoot by, the light change on the birch trees, the birds coming in shifts to feed, even the grass growing. What a treat.

Ripening black raspberries.

Ripening black raspberries.


I remember the days when, while backing out of the driveway on my way to work, I noticed the early morning sun on the front of the house and felt a pang that another beautiful day at home was going to slide by without me. Now I have to keep reminding myself that I get to stay and enjoy the peace.
Gift from blue jay.

Gift from blue jay.

I constantly catch myself feeling sad that a day is ending, a weekend finished, a week gone by. It’s as if my body is automatically gearing up to go back to work after a vacation, sad that it’s ending. And then I remember that it’s not.

Roses bloom.

Roses bloom.

So if you see me smiling quietly to myself you’ll know I’m just mentally pinching myself.

And enjoying the treasures in my own yard.

Mrs. Oriole visits for a snack.

Mrs. Oriole visits for a snack.