Gentler sex? My German ass.

Any one who argues that women are incapable of evil or some similar nonsense on the basis of their gender is a moron of the first caliber. I read about a Rwandan woman in the news today and I was beyond disgusted. A former minister, this woman ordered the execution of helpless refugees and the rape of many women and girls. Why, one asks? Because they Tutsis and she was part of the Hutu government who felt that this minority were subhuman.

Life in prison is far too humane for this woman. A slow death with great pain and the erosion of her sense of dignity is far too kind even. I don't know what an appropriate punishment is for someone who orders the genocide of another people or the systematic sexual torture of others. Anyone who claims that knowledge of Christian values serves to prevent barbarism is willfully ignorant of cases like this.

Ranting again.

This time, it's not people from Facebook in my sights. It's an acquaintance of mine. I can recognize that disability takes a heavy toll. As some one who has been diagnosed as disabled myself after *decades* of being undiagnosed, I fully comprehend just how difficult it is to move forward in life despite it. Disability, however, doesn't serve as a blank check to get you out of being a responsible adult. Having a marriage that is on the rocks doesn't excuse being a self absorbed, immature 'brat'.

An active and inquisitive child does not make them a brat, neither does their age. Brat is not a term of endearment. It's an insult and it means that the child is spoiled, irresponsible, and unmannered. Sounds more like the parent then the child, in my stated opinion.

I don't like you. I pity you because you seem to lack the intellectual ability to behave as an adult. I out grew the childish behavior that you regularly indulge in when I was in my early teens. You're almost forty, it's well past time you grew up. One of these days, I'm going to tell you exactly what I think of you, your husband, and both of your behavior. It seems like the only one who has something going on upstairs is the child and the inmates are running the asylum.

Rambling in the garden.

I have a bit of a garden going. It isn't all in one spot but that doesn't really matter. It's now been almost a month now that I have been working at this. I'm learning a fair amount as I go along. Among the first things I think I can say I have learned is that I prefer gardening alone to having help. It is a relaxing, meditative, prayerful act that helps to center me in the face of my constant anxiety.

I have also discovered that I get cranky if I go too long with out having some kind of interaction with my plants. I am concerned that some of the seeds I have planted won't come up. It was something of a disappointment to realize that I worried about the plants. It made that bitter critic in me mutter 'as if you didn't have enough to worry about...' That was a rather hurtful moment. The other was when I discovered that my miniature rosebushes just are not going to bloom more. I am holding out hope that there will be additional future blooms, but I have a bad feeling they may just be done for the season.

It has been one of the areas in my life that is relatively untouched by my creative block. I suppose that is because the plants I am growing are all fairly hardy and tend to take care of themselves to some extent. I just need to water them and weed. I don't have to put myself much more on the proverbial line then that. For a little bit of time, I am being rewarded with an abundance of fresh herbs to cook with, healthy tomato and pepper plants, and (soon) fresh strawberries. Now I just have to be patient enough to let the flowers come up.

On writing, knitting, & other art projects

It has been a grueling week for me artistically speaking. The only form of artwork that hasn't been semi-painful to endure is my knitting. I've been forcing myself to write. It hasn't been fun in any sense of the word. The morning pages feel like they're filled with epic failure and minutia that really shouldn't be penned.

The Sanctuary manuscript only has a handful of pages added to it. Most of them are just flat and have been excruciating to write. It's funny, according to the word count, I have it finished. That's how I won NaNoWriMo. The story, however, isn't done. I still need to find a way to marry the work I have typed on the computer with what I have hand written in a note book. I haven't even fleshed out the scenes that I barely put to paper in something of an outline.

I'm struggling with an enormous sense of apathy and creative drought (Julia Cameron really hit the nail on the head with coming up with that expression) in my textile arts. The knitting is like a band-aid. My crochet washcloth book is languishing for want of writing down patterns.

My loom is idle. I have it warped but I just can't muster up the emotional effort to sit down and weave. I can't seem to figure out what I want to even use for my weft here. I used my handspun purple merino to warp it. I adore the color but now... I can't figure out what I want to use to weave. A part of me says I have to use wool while another part says I need to just grab what ever I have on hand and start throwing the shuttle.

Some how, my sketch book has gone missing. The project room ate it, I think. I have been mourning the loss of that particular item, though I haven't felt particularly pressured to draw or paint. I feel pretty bad about the fact that I haven't been painting. I just can't get past this enormous sense of failure. I don't know why I feel like a failure in my painting, but I do.

It all comes together in this black morass of misery. The morning pages, I suppose, are like my lifeline or something. I'd prefer a golden thread to help me get out of this labyrinth of a block, to be honest.

Ramblings

Snuggle-Bug is sitting on my lap as I type this and we're listening to Pollywog In A Bog. We like the Barenaked Ladies' album Snacktime. The boys really enjoy the songs and will dance around the living room to them. Hubby enjoys this one too - Drawing. The album is full of a lot of fun music and BNL has a great sense of humor. We had enjoyed BNL in high school when were first introduced to their work. As time goes on and we explore their work, we just find more reasons to love this group.

I was just stunned by the news today...

Really, I was utterly shocked when I read this article from Reuters. Scientists have proven that formaldehyde is bad for you. Not just kinda icky, but really bad for you. I am in awe and horror.

How was the sarcasm? Did I do a good job? Did I fool you? ... No? Yeah, I wouldn't have believed me either. Don't feel bad. Get ready, kids, here comes the rant!

Ok, I'm going to make an assumption here that a large majority of my readers are in the USA and have (or will have) taken a high school biology class. And in something like 95% of those biology classes around the country, you are required to do a dissection. It may be of worms, fetal pigs, frogs, or even fluffy the cat. In most of those cases, the critter to be chopped up is preserved in ... (wait for it!) ... FORMALDEHYDE!

Now, maybe it's just me and my redneck-hillbilly ideas, but if they use it to PRESERVE DEAD THINGS, it might not be such a good thing to consume. We drink alcohol. Too much alcohol is bad for you. We eat stuff with salt in/on it. Too much salt is bad for you. We consume foods with tannic acid in it. You know what I'm going to say next, so I'll spare you the obvious statement. Now, small amounts of alcohol, salt, or tannic acid won't kill you. That's why we can drink wine, eat our salt coated french fries, or have that cup of tea and NOT die.

When you look at compounds like formaldehyde, one glaring thing REALLY stands out. It is a POISON. Every container you find of the substance tells you NOT to consume it. Don't drink, eat, or breathe the fume. It is BAD for you. Who in the nine hells do you expect really wants to have some formaldehyde on the side of their meal? Last I checked, it wasn't the new monosodium glutamate (aka MSG) that you sprinkled on everything to make it more flavorful by tricking your taste buds and subsequently becoming addicted to it.

Oh... wait... I wasn't supposed to mention that bit about MSG. Oops. ... *Shifty Eyes* We'll just keep that little secret between us, ok? *Winks*

Back to the rant... Anybody who has been in high school biology most likely remembers the strict admonishments of their teachers not to smell, taste, or otherwise consume their experiment. Just a ... well, a little suspicion here... If a substance is OBVIOUSLY poisonous, it's probably safe to assume it's going to have a laundry list of other REALLY bad effects on the body. If you're lucky, cancer is the least of them.

It wasn't just the Visigoths who did in the Romans. It was the lead pipes too. Trace amounts of lead in the water resulted in lead poisoning. Lead poisoning is BAD. It screws up your brain. So... perhaps we're dealing with some of the modern version of lead pipes for Rome. Just a theory, mind you. Honestly, are we supposed to be shocked and hail this "discovery" as some earth shattering news? It's fucking formaldehyde, people.

Pardon me, I'm going to go look for my nearest source of lead and drink up. I obviously am functioning at too high of a brain power for my country because I didn't need this discovery to tell me that a poison is bad for me.