Health Care - a Right not an Obligation!

Is it health care or is it corporate greed that plays on the fears and misfortunes of people? Health defined as the absence of disease, how odd. Do we really expect care from corporate entities that follow profit motives over ethics? True health care reform without diminished, if not eliminated corporate strongholds seems impossible. George, my buddy, seems convinced that taking out the insurance companies he blames for inflated prices will make health care once again affordable. Alright, don't judge me by the company I keep, I don't buy it either. Insurances are here to stay, life is too fraught with risks. Did they really take their beginnings with guaranteeing safe passage across the oceans? In any case I grew up in the insurance capital they say, Switzerland. I fled the mentality of playing it safe. I wanted life and adventure and calculated risk taking. ("So wie man sich bettet, so liegt man" my mother would have said!) I have lived much of life without a safety net. Do I recommend it? No!

Health like clean enough air and water, basic food and shelter plus education should be a human right not a responsibility! Here we go again, the have-nots wanting it all given to them on a silver platter. And what about that American way of pulling oneself up by the boot strings? Self-reliance is commonly mistaken as strength, when really it is weakness, is rigid and brittle and lacking in juices. The American way of the lone rider, the settler, the explorer of wide open spaces and my wish, the neo-cons, including Sarah Palin, are things of the past.

The world has grown smaller and our interdependence should have become obvious to anyone. No longer is the arctic protected by it's remoteness. By now we all heard how toxins find their way even in to a native Alaskan mother's milk. Small minds draw artificial boundaries of mine and yours, not understanding that if the other is kept in undesirable conditions there will never be peace, there will always be strive, there will always be illegal aliens, there will always be those seeking to have from where there seems to be aplenty.

My right leaning client does not want to pay for illegal aliens health care and my left leaning buddy that holds a government job with excellent insurance thinks he needs none as long as street guys can get their hearts operated on! So what are we to do? Refuse medical treatment to illegals, alcoholics and the poor and anyone else undeserving? Survival of the fittest, if you have not got it you deserve to perish? How can this great country of the United States hold such backward, inhumane, unkind, and to many so devastating, not just opinions, but policies?

Public Option is a must as Insurance companies have to get challenged. The government has proven that it can ably dispense health care and do so at a lower overhead cost and therefore lower premium to the individual. The government offering a public option for health care would not be funded by taxpayers, but by the premium of the people, especially those now uninsured.

Previous conditions can not be grounds for exclusion, this is inhumane. An illness should not be grounds to lose one's home and possessions and get one indebted with no way out! I can imagine where medical personnel would get training at a lower cost in exchange for public service for a number of years. I can imagine a whole new excitement of care takers once again eager to serve patients rather then insurance corporations! Eager for fulfilling work rather then a job.

Rejecting a Public Option and a government run insurance on grounds of sliding in to socialism or further increasing the national debt is alarmist, not trusting American ingenuity and ability to adapt and are plain hysterics. (Of course I too am worried about the national debt and the value of the dollar, a situation inherited from the Bush administration, of which I blame all those that were crying war and revenge in reaction to 9/11 despite all the evidence to the contrary. Stop the war! Stop the selling of weapons too that end up in so called enemies hands! Let's focus as a nation, a world, on healing and growing and evolving in to a sustainable lifestyle suitable for the 20. century.

may be continued ...

flickr final part 4


My 'Goddess with an Attitude' was my very first upload, here post-processed with tools I then had not yet discovered. The first of more then 3,800 images that total almost 133,300 views.

I realize that an image alone no matter how beautiful is never as relevant to me as an image that holds meaning, has something to say, maybe tells a story, or somehow gives new insight.

In this light I invite you to check out some of my favorite photostreams on flickr starting with BuckarooBob from the Oregon Coast, a master story teller, prior photo journalist and human being of the very first order:

"I'm a seeker and a believer, a pilgrim and a pirate, a dreamer and a schemer"

Prabhakaran from Chenai, India will charm you too, I bet, with his delightful presentation of his world seen through his beloved Canon. I particularly love the insights he provides in to the culture of South India, along with his sweet poetic spirit coupled with a great sense of humor.

Vol-au-Vent or Kiki, from France, but always a Swiss at heart, is my queen of soulfulness, one can not help be enchanted by her presentations. She has a knack for finding the perfect quote, followed by personal and intimate expression, set to her image to express charmingly what is in her heart and thereby touch another's soul.

Keith from Australia is a closet film maker to my mind, a thinking photographer, highly attuned to the interplay of light, dark and shadows. His images are not the cute, warm and fuzzy kind, but the stunning, capture of poignant moments in time, like this one here:

Finally the cutest pet images ever got to be of Earny the Terrier and Toby the calico cat:
from the Australian bush via Jobee59

flickr anniversary part 3

Here comes the tricky part, expressing my complex, sometimes difficult feelings in relating on-line and through mine and others creative efforts. I decided early on that flickr is one of my modes of self expression rather then my advertisement! Meaning I never intend to cater to an audience. My hope is that you might be moved by some of my posts and might even respond, but I will not hold my breath for that to happen. If I sound defensive, I am afraid I am. The truth is that I did hold my breath despite my best of intentions. Going public means seeking interaction, who am I kidding. There is a reason I do not keep my images to myself. I can't get my friends to look at them, what do I expect? Nothing and everything, but anything other then generic, polite responses, pleaze! And spare me the devastating critical kind or the dubious silences. Whoever said silence is gold is a liar. Silence is a killer, fosters uncertainty and doubt. Benign neglect can be lethal. But who takes the time for constructive criticism? Who knows how to give such? And anyhow I keep reading how flickr is about "fun" - really?

I never been big on gratitude and yes, I ought to be grateful for all the attention my images do get while I am so blissfully ignorant of the true art of photography The truth is that I have hurt many a time over many an overlooked dear image of mine. I guess it is unavoidable considering everything, but it hurts nevertheless. What is dear to me does not (yet?) translate in to dear to others and that is what distinguishes the successful artist, right?

Flickr does embrace that which is cute, no doubt. I like cute too, up to a point. At first I kept my activity to pet imagery, how odd for me, but hey I got one, then two, then three furry ones and pets seemed saver to explore, god forbid I should come upon explicit sex images, which I am happy to report I really have managed to avoid. So how come there rarely is a dog baring it's teeth? Dogs piss and hump plenty, but rarely do I find an image of such realities of life, why? Might it be offensive to a young family member?
Fun in the Snow!
This playful image of my Sumo-boy gave nightmares to a few but started a lively discussion. I adore this ferocious image of Sumo because it counters the assumption that little Sumo-boy, because of his size is a cute puppy rather then the adult alpha, independent, unafraid male that he is in reality.

Of course Sumo is cute, but his spirit is large and he does not need to be looked at as a baby or toy. He is a guy for real.

But this is not about Sumo or canine companions, but about my experiences with flickr. Just now I took a break to check a mail from one of my dear flickr friends. Turns out a stranger  by mistake somehow managed managed to upload an image to his stream. Now get this, none of his many viewers, many regulars questioned this odd image that so did not relate to his body of work. Rather the comments were complimentary on his choice of colors and design and so on! This is what gets me with flickr, these non-sensical, superficial responses, please! Who needs them?

It is time to honor the friends that I did find on flickr and that make flickr special. I love connecting over our creative efforts with folks from all over the world, from all kinds of backgrounds, cultures, religions, beliefs, tongues and nationalities.

to be continued ...

flickr anniversary part 2

Here I continue my reflections on flickr by considering my personal favorites of the thousands of images I captured and posted in these last 3 years.

Sitting on the fence

This one is one of the very first images I took with my new Nikon D40. My camera sat there for a while before I dared approach it. I was walking my pups as I so often do and was passing by this very old, funky cemetery and almost missed this toy up on the fence. By pure chance the colors and sharpness of the image keep delighting me and so does the symbology of sitting on the fence, something I have been accused too often. Here I demonstrate that sitting on the fence can be o.k. and almost look comfortable!

This one is a bit similar in that I was focused on architecture and almost missed these cute tigers, really I am not a fan of cutesy toys, but I love this image and think the frame perfect.

Tractors and heavy equipment have very little appeal to me usually, but this one early morning the light shone upon this tractor and I love what became of it, an abstract of sorts. I really love it because it is so unlike me to be attracted to such. My world opens up looking through a lens and I come to love all kinds a things.

I love my pups and treasure capturing them in action, which is not easy. Here I was quick to reach for my camera when I spotted Howdy, a gorgeous Labradoodle pup. It was late in the morning the sun already washing out a lot of color and my aim was not perfect. I did a lot of finnegaling to achieve this so far my favorite version of the image.

If you care to check out more of my images you might like to view one of my favorite sets.
to be continued ...


My 3 year flickr anniversary is coming up September 6th. I joined flickr in the idea of enriching our on-line group of "phenomenal women" with an image sharing site. Word and image always made sense to me and make a larger whole, like the left and right brain that function together. In my profession as a bodyworker I was one of the first to my knowledge to employ a portfolio that showed beautiful photos of me at work along with a painful, to me, description of what my intentions in massage therapy really are. Massage can go so way far beyond relaxation, but few knew and know.

I am not one that had a long standing passion about photography. I bought my first digital point and shoot with the expectation of traveling to Ghana to volunteer for a month in an orphanage and kinda get a first whiff of Africa and a sense if I might want to spend more time there. The little Olympus Stylus with it's odd shape, that fit perfectly in to my hand seemed ideal for the purpose of capturing the likeness of some cute African kids unobtrusively.

As fate would have it, my Dad got sick the day after I had made my travel arrangements to Ghana and what I captured first was his hand in mine as I sat on his bedside and suddenly remembered my brand new camera still unused in my purse.

My Dad perked up when I mentioned Olympus as he had owned several, but of course none digital. It was sweet to see this old, frail man, mostly incoherent, on his death bed come alive.

Since then, 1995, I gave myself a Nikon D40, a beginners DSLR, as capturing my fast moving pups was simply too fast for my point and shoot, as they have a considerable length of lag time. But I am back to another Olympus Stylus, this time purple, to replace my first as they are just so convenient and surprising in what they can accomplish considering their size.

Flickr is a phenomenon and may well be the internet at it's very best.
To date I uploaded exactly 3800 images that garnered 24,550 views to my photo stream alone, a lot more in total, and certainly a whole lot more exposure I would have ever had of photos placed in to albums as I used to.

This entry, taken on one of my many walks with my dogs, is what flickr considers my most interesting and what the community made in to my most popular, most often viewed image. This photo made Explore twice in different versions.

It got posted 'illegally' somewhere by someone where it garnered overnight 1100 views. Personally I am not crazy about entries. What I do truly love though is discovering my world with new eyes.


This image of a young working girl in braces looking sexy, kinda, I am afraid circulates among an adoring anorexic crowd, I took it away from public viewing after a comment confirmed my suspiscions, but recently made it available once again and it is gaining exposure steadily.

Finally I remember vividly becoming what seemed like an integral part of a painting during maybe the most spectacular sunset I ever witnessed. It took me a while to consider even an attempt to photograph the spectacle and it was an unforgettable event. Until then I rarely ever attempted capturing a landscape. This image became by far the most often favored of mine.

Take refuge in the beauty of nature!

To be continued ...
I want to say something, have been feeling an urge to do so for a while. I used to want to make a difference, what happened? Maybe one time I did, maybe on occasion I still do? My client last week, he brought me to tears. I no longer cry easily, I used to. In the days when feeling the pain was the order of the day - after day. I still believe in primal pain and working through it, I just tired of convincing others to do so. I still believe in life being a dream, a projection more often then not. I believe in transference and working with what we project on others.

I am tired already of the tirades on comment threads on-line, no matter how progressive and supposedly conscious the readership might be. Reading these threads on the Huffington Post or the local on-line news leave me afraid that we never progressed from ancient lion pits and public beheadings, - featherings and - stonings.

But back to my client who managed several breakthroughs in one session and then 'blamed' me, well, expressed his appreciation of our work together in such a manner as to make me cry. No I don't blame him for my tears, it is a thing of beauty to touch each other where it counts, on the inside.

I used to want to make a difference, these days though I feel invisible, except for the occasional moment, the rare person, the meeting of minds and hearts - and bodies (after all I am a bodyworker, a therapeutic massage therapist.) In these moments we see each other, we cherish each other as we have dropped our pretenses, our masks, our personas, but opened our eyes, our hearts and our understanding to one another. In the therapeutic realtionship I would expect this opening to go one way only, but on occasion the curtains part to shine a light on both parties. Striped of our camuflages, our dressed up state society requires, our naked beings emerge vulnerable and undefended and beautiful on their own terms. Sometimes that in itself is almost enough. When is enough ever enough?

Fall Farmers Market

Once again it's chili pepper roasting time when the characteristic scent fills the air at the Farmers Market. As I sat and watched these peppers sweat it and this farmer smile and hug those (women) passing by, I suggested he make a fortune by charging for his hugs. He paused for a moment and countered with the oh so old truth that the best things in life are free! So while his peppers are not free, they are supposedly darn hot and delicious. One woman seated next to me, devoured several with seeds to enhance her burrito. I must admit in 25 years of living in Santa Fe I have not gotten to the point of loving burritos or hot chile peppers, but hey, there is still time to catch up with the rest of them chile connoisseurs.

rain at last

A faint rainbow, a forboding sky and at last rain.

Skipping over puddles in a mad dash followed
by eight paws with giggles and wiggles
somehow elicited unreasonable happiness.

Indian Market Weekend

The audacity of some is stunning to me. Here, this wood sculpture towered over us mounted on an SUV parked on San Francisco Street, one of the busiest streets leading to and from the plaza and Indian Market. This is THE long awaited money-making annual weekend of the year for our community. The size of inhabitants in our community tends to double with tourists hopefully eager to shop until they drop, at least in to a bar stool, ready for a Margarita and some seriously hot, local Salsa.
This sculpture got to be one man's dream of a female variation of the Vixen-Virgin theme. For good measure stick in a baby and leave every man with fantasies of his own of suckling breasts. Check out her claws, yikes!
How do they get away with parking all day on a public street? Last year this one guy took up half a block with his truck loaded with oversized metal sculptures that later showed up on lawns of various businesses. His hanging out in front of Starbucks for a day, smoking cigars, must have payed off handsomely.

Americana: Entrepreneurship

This year this same guy was reduced to set up informal shop on one of the side streets., his truck extending in to a no parking meter zone. Well, the American entrepreneurial spirit seems to be still alive and well.

Meanwhile canine discrimination is in full force in and around the plaza with no clear perimeters as to where pets are welcome and not. And this despite the wonderful new set back isles that leave a lot more room for visitors to mill about without the all too familiar congestion around favorite, usually award winning booths. Here we strolled on the outskirts of booths and police bothered us just after I had stopped to take this to me funny and also sweet image of a man supporting a lady up high.

It's Indian Market Weekend and I actually made my way over there relatively early, 8 am, but not 6 am when early, serious buyers would tend to serious business. Yes, I heard of guys sleeping under stalls to reserve their first right to buy! I wonder if this is still a practice? I have not come upon the fashionistas either, the ladies and gentlemen dressed for the occasion in their Southwestern look with big cowboy hats and big hand crafted swash buckle belts and ladies chests bejeweled in handsome silver and gems. Where are the rich Texans and Californians these days? While I was in search of such I came upon this local Hispanic guy, displaced from the plaza, his regular hang-out and seemingly deeply involved in his art.
He is an Oritz with maybe 400 years of roots in our local history. He showed me the face he was carving out of what will become another of more then 100 walking stick art pieces in his possession. After heart trouble he decided it was not worth the stress to worry about advertisement and making money. So clients have to find him if they want a piece of his art! I can so relate in this respect, the refusal to engage in promotion of oneselve and hankering after money or most anything else. He seems determindly happy, although his circumstances seem not the easiest. He has a home and once his benefits kick in he will be o.k.. It turns out that by passion this man is a photographer with a lot of work in film stashed away as he does not have the means to produce it! He must be one of many, his tale touched me and I want to dedicate my post to all those unknown passionate artists that plug away and do their thing despite it all.

Why blog?

I like the challenge of formulating my thoughts and feelings. And then having an exchange about them. I miss European style communication, where we talk for hours and the conversation flows freely from one subject to another and we come back to a point from a different perspective, exploring, thinking out loud and having the greatest of times. I miss my long walks in the woods with my dearest friend, passed on already. I miss talking with strangers, so easily done in public in Europe. I miss the excitement too, of belonging to a group of colorful, artistic, fun, sometimes outrageous, sometimes inspirational, on occasion inventive, alternative minded and usually kind folks of different nationalities, different colors, cultures and upbringings.

In my teens we had "under-intellectual gatherings" on the initiative of Dwuno, my mentor then. We would sit, in a circle, some in meditation, some in simple silence, many in awe and wonder as energy would move us always in to the unexpected. There never was a plan for these event, but there was trust, certainly from Dwuno, in the nature of TAO, the natural flow and development of most everything, if given a chance.

In my twenties, in Amsterdam, I was at home at het Nabjie Ooste, the macrobiotic restaurant, where I found a way to survive, thrive, do service and learned about whole foods and the importance of diet. Where the work day started out with a practice session of Tai-chi and finished with hanging out together frequently with the making, listening and/or dancing to music.

In my thirties I was in instant heaven at Harbin Hot Springs. I loved the community, and the floating in warm, natural, healing mineral water. We floated each other and I spent many hours a day, training myself to manipulate all kinds of body types in the luscious, sensual, silky, temperate aquatic environment. I learned to listen and truly follow.

In my early forties I sought communion and community among the social dancers with varied degrees of successes. I never fit in to the Country Western local crowd, but felt at home dancing with the African ex-pats in Switzerland. I do love rhythm and West African styles especially. Not that the mobilization of the hip came easy, it took a lot of practice, but such made for progress. A bonus was the communication in french patois. I never learned to follow those that bore me and had a tendency to take over. But utter bliss awaited in someone's capable arms and creative interpretation.

In the last few years the internet has become my social realm. I applaud a more interactive format where news bits are shared and commented on freely and are read by many, that offer in turn their different perspectives. I joined the Huffington Post and a bit earlier Facebook, because I do believe that they are valid and valuable ways of building community and fostering social interaction, potentially.

Interacting with real people in real time, in body of late, I find most have barely the attention span for me to communicate an idea, much less a concept. Over and over I find myself interrupted in a response by something else happening and demanding the focus elsewhere. It is rather disconcerting. And while I am getting older, I do not think my mind so feeble yet to not be able to express myself succinctly.

Back to blogging and why. I believe in self-expression, I like the challenge and my hopes are for feedback and interaction. I am a bit worried about too much exposure, but then remind myself that I have nothing, or at least not much to hide. I blog because on line I have at least a chance of interaction which is to say that this is your invitation to respond and engage.

sweet encounters of the reflective kind

Yesterday morning a woman with dog came running towards me with a bright excited smile. She came to a halt, gave me a hug and a compliment, and moved on. While I was wearing a smile in response to her sweetness, I was also wondering how long it has been since I got hugged, how hugs used to be common and indulged in generously and not just amongst lovers. How I even taught my Watsu students how to hug without shying away from full body contact. I remember melting in hugs with guys and gals, buddies and mentors, teachers and students, in an absolutely non-sexual, but sensual, 'taking time not just to smell the roses, but each other kinda way'.

A bit later at the gas station counter a woman entered and smiled looking at me, I smiled back. She keeps on smiling and looking? My client had recommended her for a session with me some years ago. I had held her in my arms shortly after the death of her famous musician husband. Since then she remarried and lives rather happily having survived breast cancer. Her hair is still short and very becoming. I should not be too hard on myself for not having recognized her right away.

As a body worker I have often a very different perspective on my clients and I may not remember their face, after all they may spend most of our time together facing away from me through a face craddle or else most of their body might have been submerged in water, not ideal for viewing, but perfect for mirroring of patterns and releasing and healing.. I will often remember a pattern, an issue in the tissue, and then all will come back to me in an instant. Sweet, fleeting connections startled me and lingered and made me reflect on the depth of isolation and the change of times that I live in.

close quarters

Right now the Pretty Kitty is where Sumo was, up on top.

When Sumo first joined us, Isabella would let him have her den and would settle in front of it, unwilling to leave his sight! At night I would watch her paw reach out to him in her sleep. Sumo, like most any man thought he deserved it and took her generosity for granted. I say my girl was and still is in love, while my little guy reserves his autonomy.

Our dynamics are that Isabella is focused on Sumo,
Sumo keeps his eyes on me,
our Pretty Kitty acts opportunistic and gets it where he can
and I try to be fair to them all.

In all fairness

Once the pretty kitty joined our household, it seemed unfair to keep guarding my pure white sofas from canine abuse. So these days and after 1 1/2 years of strict training and claiming my couches my own, my furry ones have taken over.

A friend suggested that all mammals ought to sleep in packs and after my recent first night of letting my big Isabella-girl actually stay on my bed all night, I might agree. Mind you that these days I sleep on very narrow beds, as maybe due to the use of lots of Ginger, or else the heating that comes with and after menopause, I prefer to find the cooling edges with maximum ease. I also toss and turn a lot. In my Swiss language I would be referred to as a "Fegnaescht" and those that sat near me in planes have confirmed it. But there is something about bonding, even with our pets that keeps an eye out even during sleep.

So, in all fairness I have given up my exclusive claim and enjoy the cozy, some might say cramped company of my three furry ones on my bed.

when is enough enough or how do we line up the ducks

This evening I was sitting with George on a rock near a fountain that after years of dryness, suddenly flowed again freely. George was troubled with office politics and ran the stories by me.

A drunk guy I had chastised earlier for his audacity of stealing roses from the Santuario in plain view, kept staggering by us, upsetting my dogs who rarely bark at people. Suddenly one and then two biker tough guys took offense and violence seemed imminent. George called 911 and thankfully as he responded to seeming endless questioning, the energy dispersed and the bikers took off and were gone by the time a cop finally showed up.

Afterward one of the drunk street guys came over to us to apologize for this other drunk's obnoxious behavior. He hollered back to his buddy that he was talking to some "old folks" because they (we!) had wisdom. Wow, nobody had yet ever called me to my face "old". Turns out he is half my age and has spent the last 12 years homeless on the streets. His parents were Meth addicts and no, he would never get in to that. His lady left him and got clean and sober and his 9 year old son does not even know who his father is, although he said he calls him frequently and does tell him that he misses him.

The guy sounded and looked dejected, kept mumbling about the need for something to stand it. He brought up AA and said he had not been to a meeting in over a year. George shared with him how he got off drinking and drugging by simply deciding so and rambled on about the power of the mind. The kid seemed to hang on every of his words until he had enough and retired to the bench across from us.

This brings up one of the questions that has always fascinated me, when is enough enough? How do we make the magic happen so that all the ducks line up in one row and all the magnetic particles orient to the same one pole with a clear focus and an unwavering intent? How do we get there? Personally I have experienced this magic at various times, but never got how to make the magic happen. It happens to me.

The other question of course is this guy, and besides the dispensation of 'our wisdom' and the pointing him to the direction of our local shelter and AA groups, what should, could and would we want to do? I wished I had the number of two recovered alcoholics active in AA on me. I still might inquire with these two AA sponsors tomorrow on how to offer further help, and I will be on the look out for that 27 year old kid. He just might be ready for his Saturn Return change of life. Who can say? Sure it is up to him, but a steadying hand at just the right time can do wonders, or not.




This morning I got an e-mail from a Florida tourist I had met on the Plaza. She touched my heart as I watched her cry while she took photos of a blind woman, Bonnie Hearn, as she sat up on the bandstand, on the side, with her guide dog, and sang along, but no longer performed. Tears rolled down the face of this photographer, but she kept on, watched, clicked her camera and stroked her husbands thigh in-between.

Well, this woman told me about an incident last night, as they drove on our main street. 2 Hispanic guys raced each other, swerved in to their lane, intimidated other drivers and exhibited what would have to be called reckless driving. They pulled over, called the police, reported the deed, showed the evidence of tire marks, even got the guys to admit to it. The 3 Hispanic cops let them go! Why?

Only last month 4 teens were killed in a drunk driving accident. The accused 26 year old, 4 hours later, had an alcohol blood level of double the legal limit. We have serious problems of addiction, alcoholism, poverty and a lack of education with criminal behavior that is passed on through many generations.

So was it racism that the cops did do nothing? Does it take killing someone before such reckless behavior will be stopped? I am afraid it is our state law that requires that cops have to observe themselves an illegal transgression before they can act and prosecute, hearsay will not do! So now they go after personnel at bars and they try to make them responsible for not giving alcohol to drunk customers (I might ad adults, even if they act childish.) There is talk of anklets to alert bar personnel to the presence of a prior offender. There are steering wheel locks and breathalizers and one former judge tried to shame convicted alcoholics in to proper social behavior and sentenced them to communtiy service to be performed in odd colored hats! But try to report a potential disaster and it takes forever to get a response, much less preventive action.

So are the Hispanic cops in cahoots with the Hispanic offenders, protecting their own, as was suggested? Some, no doubt, would wholeheartedly agree. Our community is run by old Hispanic families of which several prominent politicians got busted big time only recently.

As I mentioned the story to a dear elderly, almost 90 year old lady, she exploded in disdain over our police and how they treated her when she was clearly hit by an on-coming car of a young hispanic woman driver. The cops never asked her side of the story, but gave her a ticket while the evidence, according to her, clearly showed in her favor. I suspect this had more to do with ageism, a loaded topic in itself.

of choices, ruminating and fulminating

Finally I might be willing to settle with this 8th version of a header for this blog. I like it colorful and kinda fleeting, fuzzy, like my thinking.

I love the word ruminate, it has such a rich sound to it and of course reminds me of Rumi the poet and of my Dad scolding me on day dreaming, once again. Yeah, to rebellion with a cause. Yes, to dreaming and scheming, and yes to the expression of higher and lower self, the whole shebang.

Why bother to blog I wondered, why bother to express while barely anyone takes note much less responds? Expression - Repression are on one continuum to my mind. God-dess forbid I will not suffer symptoms of repression all too common. I will have to endure life style choices, but under the damning light of awareness, of knowing better. More on this, maybe, at a later time.

Back to ruminate, which goes so well with fulminate. And isn't there plenty to want to explode over?

Isabella-girl and Sumo-boy

My two furry ones go most everywhere I go, at least they come along for the ride and hang near by, so this blog would not be right without them, my companions of about the last 2 1/2 years.

Before, I never considered myself a "dog person" in fact what I knew and still know is that I am "Nobody's Mom!"

Dogs are dogs and not kids and I try to keep that in mind. I do not want to make mine in to a substitute child or god-dess forbid a substitute lover. So I have developed quiet an interest in to dog psychology and studied The Dog Whisperer extensively long before I brought my Isabella-girl home with me from the shelter.

Dog Park - Haven

Dog Park Bench

I have my two furry ones to thank for having discovered our nations 2. best dog park (so they say.)
Really it is my very first dog ever, my Iabella-girl that got me to go to what used to be the dump and is still so toxic, nothing can be built. So we have the luxury of so much open space for the canine and human enjoyment. And there is no better place to watch the sun set and/or the moon rise. We regulars know how blessed we are and I savor every minute and it never fails to bring on a smile.

Our dog park comes these days with a flickr pool, a Santa Fe Dog Park Blog and a Santa Fe Dog Park Facebook Group. I say use it or we will lose it!

middle aged, jobless and in foreclosure

A woman in her late fifties with several Masters degrees, told me this evening that she walked off her $11/hr job at Trader Joe's while her home is in foreclosure and she was just about to qualify for health insurance benefits. 5 minor infractions, one of them a false accusation, yet still held against her. She struggled with her tears as she told me how responding to a customer's inquiry with "I don't know" (to be followed up by an offer to go and find out) while another employee competitively provided the answer, got her yet another complaint against her. She worked the late night shift and I have no doubt that she did the best she could. I feel for her, and in turn for me and those of us that have individuality and personality and do not function on automatic and do not easily blend in. I have no doubt that in her position I would have similar experiences. Getting older, unable to get, much less keep a job and harboring fears of losing one's home and becoming a Bag Lady is not for sissies!


This is the continuation of my Suenosdeuomi blog that I started 1 year ago in August of 2008. As the formatting has troubled me and I never did figure out how to fix it, I created this site which coincides with some other changes. Change is good, and so is self expression, so here I am, it's 2 am, I will be back. Welcome!