A Total Cosmic Convergence & Helpful Personalities

I have multiple personas I call upon as the prevailing need in my life dictates.

Constance was the first to develop. She was helpful because I could readily blame her when I was late or forgetful. "Sorry, you know me, I'm Constancely late / forgetful / or whatever." It's quite convenient. In fact, I highly recommend it.

Right now, Dorothy is in full sway. That's Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.  She deals with the tornadic periods of my life. She helps out in those times when things are coming at me every which way and I'm fighting hard against the tide. I pull her out and use her as a shield of sorts during those Cosmic Convergence periods where everything seems aligned juuust perfectly to make life a challenge.

Hope is there, too, because I Hope this too shall pass and calmer waters lie ahead.

I'm also calling upon Patience, so I don't lose my temper and scream or throw things. Fortunately, Patience hasn't been trotted out too much, and hasn't expended her energy. So that's a good thing.

On the other hand, Constance is taking a few days off. She won't be called again for a while - not until I'm Constancely late, or Constancely forgetful about something or other. Birthdays are one event for which she's handy.

So those are my different "people" who help me through periods where life gets difficult.  Right now, my life feels as if I'm standing under Niagra Falls and trying to catch it in a 5 ounce Dixie cup.


See, what happened was, we had a guy who worked here. A nice guy, affable and pleasant, but one who never "got" it when it came to his job. He faked his way through for long enough that we're now scrambling / struggling to fix what he didn't do. I was the one who did what he was supposed to do before he did it, so I trained him. And I retrained him and sat with him and encouraged him, 'If you have any questions about anything, please let me know'. I stopped by and asked, 'how's it going?' According to him, everything was fine. Until they fired him and discovered things were not fine. Things, in certain cases, were a year past 'fine'.

So, having a bit of a guilt complex because I think I 'failed' somehow - either by scaring him by my personality (which can be strong), or by making him afraid to ask me for help - I offered to step in and help fix what went off the rails. That's pretty much all I've been doing for the past several days, because what went off the rails didn't just go off the rails. It went massively off the rails, like across the verge and over the road and into the next county. And it has to be fixed ASAP.

Not only because it's month-end, which it is, and we don't want to accrue all of this stuff, but also because we have other companies relying on us and if they don't get what they're expecting, we'll be in a world of hurt. So I'm playing catch-up - with, in some cases, a more than one-year delay.

On top of that, I started an online wedding album for my daughter expecting that people who were there and who want to post pictures will do so. Unfortunately, they're not. They're putting them all over Facebook so I'm going to have to go through and pick up the pictures and copy them into the wedding album - otherwise they'll be lost forever in the morass that is Facebook.

Things at home are... well, they are. But it's par for the course so it's what it is and I just deal with it. It does add to the Stress-O-Meter, though, and just makes that Cosmic Convergence seem bigger.

And there are other things at play, too, but this too shall pass and I shall get to calmer waters. I'll have a period where I can breathe and catch up with myself, and this shall go into my Life Book as one of "those" periods. Just like everyone else has, too.

Along with this is the writing which has stalled again (small wonder, given everything else...), but I am leaning strongly toward doing NaNoWriMo in November, and I have an interesting concept for my story - so I'll continue mulling that. It would be cheating to start now, although I could and who would know? But I won't because that would at least partially defeat the challenge.

Authonomy is in my past. I was very upset and sad yesterday, but they're shutting it down at midnight on 09/30 and I wasn't sure which midnight they meant - 09/30 or 10/01 - but I didn't want to be there for it. I'm on the West Coast of the US and many of my Autho-Friends are in the UK and parts East of here. I did not want to be the one to see it ripped out from under me, so I closed my account yesterday. It was hard, really hard, and I had to think about it for several days before I knew I was ready.

However, life will continue and the cosmos will converge and I will muddle along doing what I do from day-to-day.

So - cosmic convergences and associated personas come together once more. And the big piles that I have on my desk are looking smaller, so there is hope. At least large chunks of this particular Cosmic problem are resolved. It's all I can do - chip away at it a little at a time.

I hope your cosmos is spinning calmly and you're in a good place in your life.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Okay, Okay, So I'm A Proud Momma

I just have to share (when don't I?).

I started a virtual wedding album for Elaine and Josh on Facebook and one of the people who were there Saturday took a fantastic picture of us. I am so proud to call this beautiful young woman my daughter.

The blond man standing behind my left shoulder is Victor, our hitchhiking visitor from Denmark - and I am thrilled to have a picture of him, too, for this memorable day.

We were also fortunate that someone had the sense to get a picture of the bridesmaids and groomsmen - because I didn't!

And the gent standing in front of the arbor is Elaine's good friend who performed the ceremony. Which makes a special occasion that much more special - to share it in such a personal way.

They're off on their wedding trip. I can't call it a honeymoon, really, since they've been living together and they're already on the way to making me the next generation. Ahhh. Yes. I'll be the Next Generation instead of... that other word commonly used for the next generation on the female side.

The sunburn I got on Saturday is fading. It wasn't too bad, considering how many hours I spent in the sun, but it wasn't good, either. I looked like Rudolph on Sunday. Since I burn so easily - often just ten minutes will do it for me - I was lucky I didn't scorch, but I'll put that down to wandering. Sometimes in circles. Enough time with my back to the sun that my face didn't burn off.

In other 'news', I've been pondering, while I couldn't sleep this morning, participating in NaNoWriMo aka National Novel Writing Month. It's an annual event, a competition in a sense, where writers sign up and "pledge" to write 50,000 words in one month - November.

I've heard from others that it's intense. 50,000 words sounds like a whole lot of words to someone who's never written a novel, but almost all of my stories are well above that mark. Two thousand words per day for thirty days = 60,000 words, so it's doable. Heck, even my blog posts are generally around fifteen hundred words. Of course, I can't use my blog, so it's a triple writing commitment. My blog, plus my books that I'm editing / revising, plus two thousand words of meaningful rough draft each and every day.

However, since I couldn't sleep and was pondering this, I also thought of a partial solution to that challenge, too. Post all of my NaNoWriMo writing here, as a serial story. That would help me meet the commitment of the word count and I could keep my blog going (and give anyone who drops by here a sample of my writing) and if I really wanted to, I could take a rest from my other writing for a month. Which would serve to recharge the batteries.

Definitely worth thinking about. And I already have the inkling of a story, too. So... We'll see.

In the meantime, you have a lovely day and I'll sit here, drink my coffee and contemplate.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

I Believe It. I Really Do.

Whew! Monday came and I think I figured out why I felt like I was hit by a stampede this weekend.

Aside from the general stress of wedding stuff and standing around and walking for the better part of ten hours, I think it has to do with what I've been putting into my body.

I am not a big health freak. I do not do, I categorically refuse to do, the vegan "thing" or the vegetarian "thing". Human beings did not evolve with fad diets and affected (or effete) dietary restrictions. This is, I believe, another thing that leads to health problems because human beings did not evolve as vegetarians or vegans. We evolved the same as other creatures - with specific dietary requirements. Mess with those too much at your own risk.

So I am proud to be an omnivore with no significant health issues. If I crave something - be it grain, vegetable, dairy or solid protein, I eat it. I figure if my body is screaming for something it's because that something has something that my body needs. I am very much a believer in we are what we eat and sometimes the taste buds direct us down the wrong path for too long.

Given that I was still stiff and sore this morning, a highly unusual condition for me, I started thinking "what have I been eating lately?"

The answer to my internal query is: protein. Thinking back for the past couple of weeks, I have been eating lentils, beans, meat, more meat, eggs, more... protein. Very little in the way of grains and veggies.

This, I suspect, is why my muscles and joints are aching. So I stopped at the store this morning and bought a container of tomato soup and another of chicken corn chowder. Yes, the latter has protein, but in such a negligible amount it doesn't count. I also bought a couple of rolls. Not health food stuff, at all, but bread. Ate one and immediately started feeling a little better. Despite my craving to chow down on the other one, too, I held it back and will have it tomorrow. After all, enough is enough, right? That, and the bagel... With the whipped cream cheese (mostly air so a little goes a long way). It does tell me, though - both the speedy response of my feeling better and the intense desire for more - that my body does need something other than protein.

Next I'll get some greens - kale and other stuff - and do that, too. In a couple of days, if I'm right about what's wrong, I'll feel much better. I suspect that I'll even start sleeping better with fewer 'power surges' and 'night glows' ('sweat' brings up too unpleasant an image, even if it is factual, so I'll go with 'night glow').

I've also solved the walking problem - the concern about the reason for my daily excursion down the street, etc.

We've had another change in staff here and things need to be gotten back under control in one area. I volunteered to help and now I'm up and down the street twice as much as I used to be. Heck, this morning was great! I walked down to drop off some of the what needs control, came back and a calendar reminder had popped up. I was supposed to be down the street for a meeting in... oh, two minutes. Grabbed the laptop and hustled back down the street.

Twenty minutes later I'm back here. Then, after I finish up my lunch (and this post), I'll get back to controlling what's run rampant, and will have another "excuse" to hustle down the street and back. That'll clock about a mile on the odometer. So, no need at all to worry about the walking. It's taken care of for the foreseeable future.

And joy of joys! I am feeling better. Isn't it great when you pay attention to your body and the signals it sends? I'll see how long it lasts, but for now, it's all good.

I hope you are too, and that you're having a spectacular Monday!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

I'm Too YOUNG For This!!

Gawd... I woke up this morning feeling as if I had been beaten with sticks - plural.  Stiff, sore, exhausted but happy nonetheless. Hours later I still don't feel much better, except the stiffness and soreness are gone.

My daughter's wedding was both insane and easily the BEST wedding I've ever attended. Very haphazard and California and... just simply a blast.

I think the best part, aside from the fact that she has married a marvelous man - someone who's strong enough to keep her in line when it's needed, who is patient and kind and obviously in love with her, is Victor. But I'll talk about Victor, later.

First, Elaine's wedding.

I met her in Guerneville at six-thirty Saturday morning which means I was out the door at five-forty-five. Before the chickens were even thinking of waking up. I did see a duck, though.

Got there to the Safeway where we got what was needed done, and then I was charged with moving the wedding cake from there up the coast to the campground where the wedding was being held. You wanna talk about nerve wracking? It's my daughter's wedding cake and it's not just up the street and around the corner. We are talking about forty miles along a narrow, windy stretch of the coast highway where sharp curves are frequent and hairpins not uncommon.

But, it was a beautiful morning along the Russian River. I just had to stop and get some pictures.

Thirty-five miles per hour all the way and I got there with the cake intact. I seriously think she would have hurt me, badly, if even a single buttercream rose was crunched. But it was intact and lovely. Then what to do with it? It wasn't even eight-thirty in the morning, the wind is coming off the ocean in a gale, and it's a campground. Ah! The plastic trash bags I brought. I stretched one across the top of the box, but didn't have tape. Someone else had dishtowels. We weighted the ends with dishtowels. Problem solved.

Next problem was that no one knew how to set up a party tent. We learned. After getting the frame up, which is quite a feat since parts kept parting the midst of our lifting, we finally managed it. Then we realized, oh dear! We forgot the tent part. A lovely PVC frame and no tent part.

By then there were enough people milling around that six of us lowered the frame by removing one of the sections while two others got out, spread and draped the tent part. Yah! Framework back together, lift and... voila! Tent. With mesh sides. No wind protection.

Ah ha! Use the ground tarp from someone's tent. Problem solved. Kind of. At least enough to keep the wind that was blowing a steady ten to fifteen miles per hour from blowing all of the lighter foods out of the bowls and dishes.

Then there was Elaine's dog, Stella. Stella wanted to play ball with one and all. Great. Slobbery, drooly ball rolling around in sand and dirt. And she didn't give up. That is one seriously persistent dog. So I kicked the ball, she'd chase it. Then I'd try to ignore her but she would follow me around. I kicked it again, same routine. Finally, someone else got involved. Problem solved.

The bride and groom showed up on Elaine time (about thirty minutes late) and we began scurrying around getting ready to leave to go back to the hotel and get changed for The Ceremony.

I have to say, my daughter made a stunningly beautiful bride. And I am proud to say she "built" that dress, herself. Part was the gift of a friend's mother. Part were cast offs from the Goodwill. And she remade parts of it because they didn't fit or she didn't like the way they draped, fell or sat. Of course we had silly, because that's how these things should be, so while two of her attendants worked on creating a beautiful hair style, I got the camera and snapped a fun pic.

Back at the campground, Josh was thrilled, of course and we had more fun with the two of them together.

Along the way they took the arbor Josh built for the ceremony down to the bluff and set it up. Because I was in the parade down the aisle - I had the pleasure and the privilege of giving my daughter away, these are the only pictures I got, but I cannot imagine a better venue.

Toasts between the couple were held before the ceremony.

It was free-flowing with most of the "reception" taking place before sunset. After all, if you're at a wedding and the party extends for six hours before the ceremony, there's not a lot to do but "receive" and mill and get to know people.

All day the wind blew and we were all bundled up. I was wearing jeans under my dress (in this picture), because it was too cold. Since I was in the ceremony, I don't have pictures of my baby walking down the aisle, but it was gorgeous. The sun was low in the sky, just above the horizon when we started. Halfway through the ceremony, the ring bearer suffered a case of stage fright and snuggled a little too close to mommy, who happened to be the matron of honor.

His hand pushed the back of her shortish skirt high enough to reveal that mommy wasn't wearing anything under the dress. Dashing forward, I extracted his hand and adjusted the skirt, praying no one had seen something mommy had no desire to reveal. I don't know, but it was moon view and since everyone has one and they all look pretty much the same...

So the ceremony ended, I wasted ZERO time getting back to the car and changing into real clothes - blue jeans and layers of garments, then I sat down and had a chance to talk to Victor.

While running back and forth along the road between the hotel and campground, a distance of about ten miles, one of the guys picked up a hitchhiker. It being California, Ryan asked Victor if he'd like to come to a wedding. Sure! It's what we do here.

And it was fascinating talking to this young man who's doing what I dream of doing. Sort of, but I'll let you decide the bits I won't do (hint: it involves a thumb). He's from Copenhagen and he's trekking through America, hitchhiking and meeting people and seeing things and... Giving insights and lessons.

Along the way he's met with people who made him nervous as in 'No, that's okay. I'll get out here.' and others who let him stay with them. He got invited to a wedding where he met a bunch of average, normal Americans who pose no threat, who know how to enjoy themselves, and who take in a complete stranger, welcome him into a family event and make him feel at home.

He and I spoke for a couple of hours after the ceremony, while everyone was huddled around the firepit - one side a little almost too warm and the other side freezing cold. He's a music student. He wants to come back to America someday and get a car so he can go where he wants, when he wants. He's traveling alone, as I will do when I go on my bucket trip, so he can stop where he will, and do what he wants when he wants.

Of all the things that happened yesterday, getting to know Elaine's friends and new family top the list. Seeing my daughter happy is there, too - and she is happy. That's been the case since she met Josh so it's something of a given. She's been drawn into their family, and I am thrilled for her. But right up near the top of that Perfect List is the fact that her friend performed the ceremony, and that someone on the spur of the moment invited a complete stranger into our midst so we could get to know them.

Yeah. I'd say it was a very special day. And it's one I will remember for a very long time.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Wedding Bells!

A wild and crazy weekend is in store. My daughter is getting married tomorrow and the reality of it is finally sinking in. I don't know why it took this long, but it did. Now I'm going to have to scramble to get ready.

I did buy my Mother Of The Bride dress. I think that's part of the problem. I'm not old enough to have a daughter old enough to be getting married. I was in denial. Or, as I prefer it, d'Nile - a trip through Egypt.

Then there's simply the issue of family issues. It's a long sad story, so I won't bore you. I'll just ask you to trust me. There are issues and they're getting in the way.

So I have my To Do / Don't Forget list (like the camera since I don't have a phone that is capable of connecting to my computer).

On top of my normal stuff, this is borderline crazy-making. I like being hair-on-fire busy, but... I'll get through the next forty-eight hours, of course. It's just with what sanity left intact? And that goes back to the issues.

What's almost as hard as accepting the fact that I am in fact old enough to have a daughter of marriageable age is the fact that this weekend is going to be spent running from pillar to post with no time to write. That is going to take a toll. For me, writing is like breathing, so this weekend is going to be like not breathing. But that's good, too. It's expanding - it gets me out of my comfort zone, that warm cozy place to which I'm accustomed.

So - that's my news for today. It's all I had time for and won't be online until Sunday. I'm camping for the first time in.... about thirty-seven years. It'll be fun!

Have a lovely weekend and look for pics on Sunday!

Best~
Philippa

AAA - How Do They Know? Or Do They Know?

Okay, I'm gonna get all serious again. This time the subject is AAA - Asthma, Allergies and Autism.

I've been mulling the discussion between Donald Trump and Ben Carson at last week's Presidential Debate for a week now, and it bothers me.

I advocate vaccinations, but I worry about them, too. We are vaccinating our kids against everything in a very short time, and I don't think that is healthy in the long term. Their immune systems haven't even developed completely when we start the immunization process - and I think it suppresses that development, perhaps with terrible effect later on. By then, though, it's far too late to do anything about it.

Yes, some diseases and infections are dangerous. Some things lead to other things and some lead to death, but our bodies did not evolve in a clean room. Up until the early 2000's people here in the US didn't routinely use antibacterials, which also kill off the good bacteria on our skin that protect us from disease and infection.

We actually got sick. Our bodies developed defenses and we fought off the illness, and then the majority of us got better. Even the Spanish Flu pandemic in the 19-teens was beneficial for the herd because it culled those with the weakest immune systems.

Our immune systems have developed over tens of thousands of years. Long before people even understood the disease process and figured out how to fight it. Now we're messing with them. Unintended consequences? Yeah, I think there's a pretty strong case for an argument on that.

I'm on the shady side of fifty and thinking back I don't remember kids with food allergies or asthma or autism.

Maybe it's because those things weren't talked about, but I was never told I couldn't take my PB&Js to school. Heck, half the kids in my classes had PB&J on a regular basis. I was never told I couldn't have egg salad in my lunch.

In all of my years of school I knew one girl who was epileptic. One out of... what? Let's say twenty kids per class through grade school - K through 6, seven years x 20 = 140 x three similar sized classrooms in each grade = 420 kids through sixth grade. Then seven periods in junior high, with another collection of schools in the district. Let's say three schools with 420 kids each  = 1,260. And that's before high school.

Some of the scariest moments in my life were when she had a seizure on the playground at school. It was horrible to see! But there were no kids who were obviously "weird" in the parlance of children. None stood in corners and focused intently on a dot no one else could see. None of them sat through recess sucking their thumbs or rocking or doing anything else that set them widely apart.

Were my schools special? I doubt it. I just don't think we had the same health problems back then - and back then really isn't all that long ago.

So what's changed? In the past fifty or so years, what has changed? Vaccinations.

Between the time of my birth and year ten I had measles (three-day), chicken pox, whooping cough, mumps (my brother got it when I was four, so I wasn't in school - infected by close contact). I have no lingering effects of any of those things.

I did get the polio vaccine on the sugar cube. I remember that, and I do have the scar from the smallpox vaccination. Other than that, nothing. No vaccinations except the natural immunity gained by getting dirty and playing in the dirt and wiping my nose with my fingers.

So Dr. Carson says that the link between the vaccinations and autism doesn't exist. But I have my doubts.

Where is he getting his information? Is he blindly following some case study, or is he using his observational and analytical skills?

Frankly, and I admire the man - he's obviously very smart - I suspect it's blind following. I do not believe that he has stepped back and analyzed the data with which he's been presented through his practice and observation.

And, if his declaration that there is no link is based on published papers, who funded them?

I don't care if it's a group of epidemiologists or a hospital that wrote and published the papers. I want to know where the money came from. Could it be, behind the scenes, the pharmaceutical companies are funneling money into the coffers of the groups and hospitals? I think that would be a safe bet because stop and think about it: who stands to make billions of dollars off these immunizations? Why, the pharmaceutical companies, of course! If they prove that there's no link between the vaccines and the ancillary conditions - problem solved.

Mommies and daddies will line their children up for the vaccines. The kids will have their immune systems destroyed because:

a) the immune systems of these children are not yet fully developed (one reason why breast milk is better than formula is because the mother's immunities are passed to the child through the breast milk)

b) the body's immune system was not developed through nature to fight with three or four or five different illnesses presented in one cocktail of a vaccine.

The human immune system evolved and developed through the process of elimination. One illness at a time. Now we're pumping our babies full of all sorts of (excuse me) shit and wonder why the autism, asthma and allergy rates are skyrocketing.

In California the requirements for vaccination are:

Four to Six year olds:

DPT (diptheria, whooping cough, tetanus) - FIVE doses - before the kid is even six years old!

MMR (measles, mumps, rubella) - two doses

Polio - FOUR doses

Hepatitis B - THREE doses

Varicella (chickenpox) - one dose.

So in the first six years of a kid's life, before they have a fully developed anything, we are shooting them up with FIFTEEN doses of drugs?

What do you suppose that does to the immune system? I would posit that it doesn't make it stronger because the body doesn't have time to rebound, to develop the new functions through the lymph system and spleen to assimilate the changes and set itself up for the next assault. The kid might not get the disease, but that's a narrow benefit. What's happening to the other systems?

Okay - so we junk the kid's system up from birth through year six. Then what?

Well there's more.

Between year seven and seventeen:

DPT - three more doses (for a total of EIGHT DOSES!!!) - four if the last one was given before the kid's second birthday

Polio - three more doses (for a total of SEVEN)

MMR - one more for a total of two

Varicella (chickenpox) - one dose or two doses if entering school between years 13 and 17.

I mean, come on! Really???  If you get the disease once you're done, immune - why does it take seven or eight or nine doses per child?

I had chickenpox - once. My daughter had chickenpox and I stayed home and took care of her. I didn't get it a second time. I was immune.

Could it be, just maybe, that these really aren't effective? That parents are being forced to give their children cocktails of drugs not because they do all of what they say they'll do, but because the drug companies have pumped hundreds of billions of dollars over the years into the arena?

I'm sure these drugs do have some effect. Perhaps they stir the pot and set the body up to resist, but at what cost to the child's immune system?

Could it be, just maybe, that the pharmaceutical companies that manufacture this stuff are scamming us at the expense of our children?

I don't know, but I do think it's worth some thought, some really hard analytical thought instead of just having families line up like cattle at the slaughterhouse.

What I would like to see is a study of the epidemiological differences between kids growing up in other places in the world and here, in the US and in Europe.

What are the disease rates, comparatively?
What are the rates of autism, of food allergies and of asthma, comparatively?
What are the rates of morbidity from diseases common to there and here (excluding cholera and typhus and diseases highly endemic in other parts of the world)?

I think that would provide interesting insights. Particularly in light of the accessibility to clean food and water and medical care here. Weight the findings to include the benefits of those things but not so heavily that the results become skewed - do an honest study. And then publish it. Have it peer reviewed by professionals NOT in the hip pocket of the pharma companies.

I just wonder at the fascinating correlation between the wild increase in vaccinations and the equally wild increase in AAA.

I will say this, though. If I were pregnant today there is no way on God's green Earth I would let my child be immunized to death because if those vaccinations end up to be shown as being linked to autism and allergies and asthma, that price is too damned high.

Just give it some thought. Maybe do a little reading and talk it over with some friends.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter:  https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

First Day of Fall

I love fall. Cool nights, warm days and fog melted by sun. Hopefully it will start raining here, soon. Really soon.

El Nino's supposed to be blasting through California this winter. According to the weather gurus, it will affect Southern California the most, but we'll be affected, too. In preparation, we're having the five cypress trees behind our house taken out.

They've started looking sickly the past couple of years. Not having lived with cypress trees before, we didn't know better, but the tree guy did. One look and, 'they're infested with beetles'. He even showed hubby where the beetles get in and out.

That's not a good thing. High wind, weak trees and... I really don't want to "buy" our backdoor neighbor's house, so the trees have got to go. And they will, tomorrow, and that's sad.

I like trees. I like the way they look, their shade, their smell. Not wild keen on their pollen, of course. That makes my eyes water, so that's a downside. But their good things offset the few weeks of misery they cause, so I'll think of them next summer when the sun is beating against the back of the house without respite.

Upside: my laundry will dry faster and I can put it out for more weeks in the year since the sun will be able to linger on it longer.

Downside: the sun will burn us up on hot days next summer - no shade to mitigate the heat.

Our neighbors aren't thrilled, that's for sure. Even though it's their house that's in the line of fire if one or more of those trees blow over.

When they heard about the trees coming down, they started complaining because they won't have "privacy". Well, here's a newsflash: they don't have much privacy, now, and neither do we.

It's not as if we're peeping Toms. I'm not. Ew. Particularly with the very average overweight, middle-aged guy who's got the annoying habit of whistling (badly) every minute of every day. Not the guy of my dreams and definitely not stalk-worthy. Middle aged spread and balding. Ew. I get that at home, thanks. Except the whistling. My hubby doesn't whistle.

His wife is, in my opinion, attractive, but hubby complains about her "always being there, in the kitchen". Not the declaration of a man in lust with his neighbor's wife. Otherwise he'd keep his mouth shut and linger by the windows upstairs to catch a glimpse. There are other signs, too. Things said and so on. But we'll just let it lie there because otherwise I'll cut too close to the privacy barrier I'm trying to maintain here.

So. If we're in our downstairs we can't see anything. There's a fence and humongous rose bush in the way. All we can see is the back of their house and their upper windows on which they have shades and blinds and drapes.

If we're in our upstairs we could, if we wanted to, watch them through their downstairs windows, so long as they stand at their kitchen sink or stand right next to their back door into the yard. That's it. Their lack of privacy is two windows and they have to stand right by them to be exposed.

Now maybe they're taller than I am, and maybe they can see over the fence, but now they want to put a trellis across the top of the fence. Which would be, considering the age and condition of the fence, a complete waste of money.

The builder of this subdivision cut corners every which way to Sunday on these houses. Our six-foot 'good neighbor' fence wasn't constructed out of redwood or Douglas fir. I'm not sure the species of wood, but in fifteen years it's already rotting away. Not a little rotting away, a whole lot. As in the wood, in places, is held together by the layer of paint.

The bottom section is a 12-inch plank laid across the bottom of a panel with five foot boards above it. That saved a lot of money because I suspect those bottom sections are plywood. Each of those sections saved about ten linear feet of fence board material across each panel. I can't say for sure that they're plywood, because they're painted and I never really paid attention and looked for the tells along the edge (the layering), but even if they're not, they're some kind of cheap soft wood. The 3x3 posts are rotting and the whole thing is sagging like a drunken sailor.

Hubby doesn't want to pay to get it fixed or replaced, so I'm wondering what's going to happen when the trees come out. I think I know. It'll fall over. The rotten posts and pieces will disintegrate. So the lady of the house behind us might get her wish - a new fence with a trellis. I don't know. I just know that I hate to see those trees come down.

The great news that came out of that decision is that over the weekend, preparing for the tree service guys, hubby got the bug to clear the deck and patio of the furniture. (I hate that furniture - it's covered in mold and green growth and it's dirty and...) Seeing the cleared up backyard he said, 'that looks pretty good. Maybe we should get a dumpster and get rid of that stuff.'

I hope he didn't see me fall to my knees, praying that he would call the trash company for a dumpster.

The only problem with that will be that my "clothesline" will go away, too.

Ours has been very much of a Beverly Hillbillies / trailer trash existence. He doesn't want to spend a penny on anything, so we make due. It's galling to me because I don't see the problem with fixing or replacing what's broke, but he doesn't want to spend money on it. A bone of contention and one that has caused me to develop scars inside my mouth from biting my lips. Complaining doesn't accomplish anything. The wall would be more responsive, and less argumentative.

The upside, and yes, there is an upside, is that we don't spend the money we have. It's saved. So when we do need / want it, it will be there, but living day-to-day is... Low class. Best description, most honest and not what I want, but... Waddaya do?

The furniture is one thing I've wanted to get rid of. It looked great for the first five years, but age took its toll and it was past it's prime about three summers back.

The vinyl chairs could be resurrected with a good scrubbing. If we ever used them. But they were bought for 'show' and were rarely, if ever, used. So I'd be happy to see them go.

What's going to be a problem is the bench swing. The foam seat rotted after about ten years, so we took that out and pitched it. Then we were left with the frame. Which we repurposed by stringing it with clothesline. That became my "dryer" during the summer. For the towels and sheets and big stuff, we strung clothesline from the frame of the swing over to the posts along the edge of the deck. A seriously Trailer Trash look, but it worked so I tolerated it.

Now, with the clearing, that's been moved onto the deck, out of the way, and the trailer trash look is gone! What a relief!! And hubby may break down and rent a bin. I think I'm going to push that now, while the backyard still looks clear. Otherwise he'll probably swing back down into same-old-same-old and the opportunity will be missed.

Then - once that's cleared up and my clothesline is gone, too, I'll go to Home Depot or Lowes or find something online and buy an inexpensive replacement - a real clothesline thingie.

So - that's how my fall is starting off. I hope yours is just as exciting!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Great... Now What Do I Do?

Uh oh. My one sure source of daily exercise just departed... Now I'm faced with a problem. What’s Plan B?

Uhhh...

For clarity, since you may not know, my boss abandoned us (“us” being her team, not the Royal us).

Well, okay. She didn’t really abandon us, but it sounds more dramatic and pithier than the real excuse: She left the company to move to a different state because her husband was offered a job he couldn’t refuse.

See? That’s all long and wordy and kinda boring. It’s like the Every-Boss Syndrome. Which isn’t really a Syndrome but it could be because we all get abandoned by a boss we like and admire at least once or twice in our working lifetime.

In the aftermath, we’ve been restructured. Chess pieces have moved and we have a new reporting structure. I’m no longer associated with the group with which I was associated. I’ve been re-associated. Beyond that, the daily ‘huddle’ I had attended every weekday for the past year plus is one of the first casualties. That means I have no valid excuse to walk down the street to the other building and back at least once per day. It’s only a quarter of a mile, but it’s a quarter of a mile that made me more active than I would be otherwise.

Rats. I can already feel the spread...

Now I have to come up with a self-motivating Plan B and I am terrible at self-motivating Plan Bs. It’s why I never paid for a gym membership, even when everyone else did. It’s why I have such trouble losing weight and keeping it off. Plan A is always so much easier, so much more fun.

I guess this will be like anything else. Just take it one day at a time and put one foot in front of the other. I’ll set my calendar to remind me to walk. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes each lunch hour would do it. At least then I can get out, get some fresh air and now that the weather is showing signs of cooling off, I won’t get back here a sweaty-sticky mess at the end of it.

Yeah, I know that’s not a pretty picture, but it’s real. I mean, I do not come back from doing anything looking perfectly coiffed and put together. I just don’t. After all, I’m a people not a model and I don’t have staff chasing after me with the brushes, and spray and... Even in the morning, right after my shower, I don’t do anything with my hair but shake it around a bit, fluff it up with my fingers and let it dry. It’s one of the reasons I keep it short (most of the time). Given that, I will say that I’m lucky. It’s naturally wavy and thick so it usually behaves pretty well even with minimal fuss.

But the timing of this is bad. It’s really not good kind of bad.

See, my daughter is getting married on Saturday. I’m supposed to look good for her wedding and I don’t know how to look good. I never have.

I have a dress, which is a step in the right direction. It’s a nice dress - not fancy or frilly or anything, but I don’t do fancy or frilly very well. I’ll make a few changes to it and make it “mine”. She’ll do my makeup, to which I’ll resign myself (I hate makeup) and I won’t even rub it off. I have my shoes picked out - two pair depending on a variety of factors - and I’ll be prepared with a change of clothes in the car since it’s going to be very casual and at the coast at a campground. At the earliest moment possible, I’ll change into normal clothes and get back to being myself.

No matter because, with all of that, I’m actually looking at myself in the mirror these days. I don’t normally do that. I normally avoid doing that. Because I am doing that, I am NOT happy with what I see.

Neck up looks good. It looks like me, the way I look every day. Shoulders down... that is not me. Uh huh. No way is that body mine. I don’t know whose it is, but it sure as shootin’ isn’t mine.

It’s... Dammit, it’s old. I am not old. Sigh. Maybe I should have paid more attention before now.

I won’t even bother asking the question, “Honey? Does this make me look fat?” because then I would be obligated to give you the answer: “Yes, dear, I’m afraid it does.” Heck, at this point a four-person tent would look better.

Well. It’s one day. A few hours. She’ll be so thrilled with her party and new hubby and all that she probably won’t even really notice me, so that’ll be good. I’ll hide in the herd for the pictures - avoid at all cost being singled out - and exercise the stomach muscles (what’s left of them) if I am caught away from the group.

So, I’m going to go devise my Self-Motivating Plan B and see if I can make it stick. I’ll set my calendar reminder and get myself out of the office and down the street every day this week. It probably won’t make much of a difference come Saturday, but it can’t hurt. Well, not unless I trip on a curb and twist an ankle or something.

Besides, I suspect I’ll feel better about myself if I do it. Maybe that’s the secret. Self-motivate by telling myself that I’ll feel better. Heck! Maybe I can walk off some of the old along the way. I think it’s worth a try.

Okay. Decision made and I’m going to get started. I hope you have a lovely day!

Best~

Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Mondays are Hard, Aren't They?

I don't really mind Mondays. I don't dread them or hate them or anything. I just sometimes think they're harder than they need to be.

After all, it's just another day of the week, right? Yes, it's the first day of most people's work week, and that's not always pleasant. On the other hand, unless you have the financial means to retire, it's better than sitting around wondering where your next meal will come from.

Today, though, was just weird. Not good, not bad, not much of anything, really. It was busy and I had a lot to do, but nothing was really exciting. Just same old, same old.

Ran around here this morning. Got my coffee. Got my lunch. Got some laundry hung out to dry. Just the normal day-to-day stuff. Tomorrow, except for the laundry, will be pretty much the same. Just like millions of other people.

Headed out to work, had a nice commute - nothing troublesome. It was a beautiful fall morning. While I drove, I mulled this over. What will I write? Nothing came.

Got to work. Mulled some more. Nothing came. At lunchtime, in response to some current stuff going on, I did start one post, got about five hundred words into it and... Nuthin'.

Sometimes that happens. I'll get an idea and start following it, and it just peters out. That's what happened today. So I deleted it. Pffft. Five hundred words all neatly strung together, gone.

Mulled this afternoon. Mulled on the ride home. Thought about the weather - it's hot again. Yeah, here and a lot of other places.

Thought about my daughter's upcoming wedding on Saturday. Thought about the dress I bought for it. No fodder for anything worthwhile in any of that.

That's the creative process, though. It's not perfect. It's not easy. It certainly isn't guaranteed. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten an idea for something, have started on it and...nuthin.

Sometimes it's a quick capitulation. Other times I'll try this, then that, then something else before admitting defeat.

Now it's eight-thirty at night and still nothing. I'm sleepy. I do know that. It was warm last night so I didn't sleep. It's cooler tonight, so I hope I can sleep and I hope, with that, the synapses will reconnect and tomorrow will be easier.

So - that's it. Boring as can be, but that's all there is tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better and I'll find a massive inspiration.

Have a lovely, stimulating, thrilling day on Tuesday!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Assisted Suicide - A Flash Piece

When I was in high school, I read and fell in love with Kurt Vonnegut's 'Welcome to the Monkey House'. It's a collection of short stories across a range of subjects. Among them was a story about a society in which assisted suicide was voluntary and socially accepted.

The individual would choose the right time for them, they would go to a center staffed by PYT's (pretty young things) who would ease them into the afterlife with a cocktail of drugs. While waiting for the easing, the person would lie on a Barcalounger which, until I read the story, I never even knew existed.

That story was about an elderly man, anxious for the company of young people, who would show up at the center, go through the routine, up to the point of saying, 'I'm ready'. Before then, he would talk and visit and get the social interaction he craved. Then, instead of saying, 'I'm ready' he would say, 'I've changed my mind.'

This morning, thinking of my MIL who is failing based on the signs I'm seeing, I was thinking of my own end of life. For myself, I do not want to go through what she's going through. More than that, I do not want to put any of my family through what we're going through just to keep her going day-to-day.

Thinking all of that, I started with a kernel of a story, so here it is. Just a flash piece, perhaps six hundred words or so.

* * * *

Mom

"It'll be so easy, honey."

"But I don't want you to!" The words were said so forcefully they might as well have been accompanied by a foot-stomp.

"I'm old, dear. I'll be ninety in a couple of months. I've had my time and now it's yours. I don't want to burden you. I don't want you to have to do for me what your father and I did for your grandmother."

Tears swam in Maggie's eyes and her throat was thick when she said, "But don't you understand? I want to."

Gail shook her head, her eyes sad as she looked at her daughter, saw her distress. "No you don't. You weren't there for a lot of it, being off at college and then your job. You don't know what's involved and I won't subject you to that. I love you too well and I don't want you to see me that way."

"What way?"

"Weak, feeble, confused and unable to do anything for myself. I don't want to be like that. It's demoralizing and it's demeaning."

"You're doing okay now, aren't you?"

"Yes, so far, but I can feel it coming. I'm more tired than I've been. It's harder to get up in the morning, to get dressed and do the things I need to do. In a few months, at most, I'll need help just doing the simple things, and I don't want to be dependent like that."

Maggie knew her mother was proud. Always strong, always capable, ready to go the extra mile for those closest to her. Thinking back, she couldn't think of a single time her mother had ever complained about anything. She could understand, in her heart, her Mom's desire not to be dependent, to have to ask for help. More than that, she recognized that she was being selfish. She wasn't looking at the decision from her Mom's point of view, only her own.

The silence drew out while Gail waited for Maggie's acceptance. Beyond the windows the autumn sunshine glowed through the gold of the trees. Jays called and the whirrrr of a neighbor's lawn mower was a constant.

Maggie's head dropped forward and Gail's heart broke. She reached over to stroke her daughter's hair, noting the fragile fingers and almost translucent skin with the liver spots she hated so much. "It's for the best, love, really. No long, drawn out waiting. No pain, no suffering. No anger or frustration or wondering 'when'."

Under her hand Maggie's head moved - up and down. "When?" It was a whisper.

"Next Tuesday. I've already called them but I wanted to talk to you and give you time to think about it, to get used to it." She heard when her daughter began to cry and leaned forward, gathering the shaking form to herself. "It will be good, love. Good for you and good for David. No more worrying, no more waiting for a phone call. I'll be at peace and so will you."

"Does David know?"

"Yes. I called him last night."

"How did he take it?"

"He's not happy, but he understands. He was there with us during your grandmother's last few weeks, so he knows." She lifted her daughter's chin on her fingers, gazed into the bloodshot eyes and smiled sweetly. "He'll be here, and I'd like you to be, too, if you think you can."

Maggie sat up, slightly surprised. "They'll do it here?"

"Mm hmm. In the comfort of my own home." She sighed and looked out the window. "I've already checked the weather report. It's supposed to be sunny and warm, just like today."

* * * *

Now, for me, that's how I'd like to do it. To make the decision and not be a burden on my loved ones because, no matter how determined one might be at the end of life, it is hard work for those around you.

With my dad, who died of cancer, there were weeks of constant care by my mother and sister-in-law.

For my mom, it was months of dressings and doctor visits to deal with the staph infection that ultimately took her life. At the end for her, a stoic woman who never, ever, ever complained about anything, she said she just wanted to die because it hurt so much. She was ninety-three.

My father-in-law had been ill, in and out of the hospital several times over a period of months and finally dropped dead of a heart attack when he tried to get up to use the bathroom. His doctor had recommended that he check into a care facility, but my FIL refused. He had spots on his liver that had not yet been diagnosed when he died.

My MIL is still with us. Senile and unable to focus for any length of time, confused and incapable of following simple requests or instructions. We do almost everything for her, and clean up after her when she has 'problems'. Our living room carpet has bleach stains where 'problems' were solved.

It's a twenty-four hour per day, seven day a week exercise and, as far as I can see, all she's doing is waiting to die. She does nothing constructive or creative. Her days consist of watching the television she can't even see because of diabetes and glaucoma, listening to talk radio and sleeping. Half the time what we feed her comes back up halfway through her meal. Other times, we have to rescue the lap table so she can get up in the middle of eating to use the bathroom. Which is also her only "exercise" - the almost constant trips to and from the bathroom. She won't do any more because she can't. Even when she was able bodied she wouldn't walk, even when she was encouraged to get outside - just down to the corner and back.

She is the poster child for what I don't want to be. She is the example of how not to live a life - eat far more than you need of the stuff that isn't good for you. Drink sodas by the gallon, but never drink a glass of water or milk. Never exercise, never go outside, never do anything more than you absolutely have to.

In my place, I do what I can - I park as far from the store as I can manage and walk. I do more than I must, simply to keep moving, but when the time comes for me to go, I will not burden my family. Only half-jokingly I've told my daughter that I will get a notarized statement permitting her to take me somewhere and lose me so she doesn't have to bother.

It's a tough conversation to have, but for the strong willed and strong minded being dependent is the worst thing I can imagine. It's a giving up of self, a closing in and closing down process that is, to me, now when I'm healthy, unimaginably demeaning.

Me? I have my plans. It won't be like Maude in Harold and Maude. If I can handle it, it'll be quicker and less painful. Unless Fate takes over and decides for me.

And, on that happy note... I hope this gives food for thought and I hope you have a lovely day.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Airline Heaven?

So in yesterday's post I ranted and bitched and moaned about how impossible United Airlines was to deal with to make reservations, right?

Well guess what - it seems they would rather not have you do business with them. After all, if you don't fly with them, they don't have to go to all that trouble of getting a plane to the gate, and cleaning, and all that other nuisance stuff.

I got into work yesterday. About thirty minutes later the woman who asked me to make the reservations said things had changed. There's a new call on her time so she can't make the trip after all. She was very apologetic, because she had heard about my nightmare on Thursday, but I said, honestly, 'don't worry about it'. After all, it is part of my job, one of the reasons it's called 'work'. So I will do whatever it takes.

Because the tickets were non-refundable, that was the first call I made, to make sure I was in the twenty-four hour window. What a world of difference between trying to make the reservations and cancelling them!

On Thursday, three flight reservations literally took all afternoon. From about 1:30 pm local time to just before 5:00 pm local time. Phone calls, waiting on hold - it was a nightmare.

Today, I called the 800 number. At the end of it I was dazed and confused. What is wrong with this picture?

I called. I told the automated system I wanted to cancel. The hardest part was getting the ruddy thing to recognize the name of the passengers. I got through that, after a bit of a fight. From there, the entire rest of the process took about ten minutes. Only ten minutes to cancel v. almost four hours to make.

What does that say about United Airlines? I'll let you mull that over.

Hotel was a breeze. Went online to the reservation portal and wham-bam-thank-ya ma'am I was done. All three took less than five minutes, and I got immediate e-mail confirmation that the rooms have been canceled.

Called the rental car company. I ended up in India speaking to a man whose accent was so thick I could hardly understand him. I asked him to repeat his name twice but no joy. Whatever. He assured me the reservation is cancelled and since I didn't use a credit card to hold it, it doesn't really matter, anyway. It was a courtesy. That one took about five minutes.

So, start to finish, the hotel and the car agency took a total of about twenty minutes to reserve and cancel - it was easy as could be.

Now, back to United. What is it with them? They make it almost impossible to make reservations but happily cancel the ones you make? Where is the profit in that?

I'm debating sending a note to their SVP of Customers, just to let her know how messed up their system is. Then again, do I think she'll care? Nah, probably not.

And I've decided that when the time comes for my bucket trip, I am not going to fly any of the domestic airlines. From SFO I can easily take one of the other airlines - Lufthansa, Swiss Air, Air France, British Airways, Virgin. Any one of those has got to be better than United.

Oh - and as for the reason why making flight reservations is just next door to impossible and why cancelling is the easiest thing since falling? My hubby posits that it's because there are so many people lining up to make flights that the airlines don't care about incoming passengers. After all, if the flight isn't sold out or close to being sold out, they'll just cancel it. And I think that might be right...

Hope your flying time is easy and safe!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter:  https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Airline HELL

Okay. I thought about this for a couple of hours yesterday and slept on it, but I'm still so ticked off I can't help myself.

Yesterday I was asked to make travel reservations for three colleagues. All they want to do is fly from San Francisco, California to a location in the Eastern third of the country. Nothing but state borders involved. No customs, nothing beyond ordinary domestic travel.

Simple, right? HAH!

I get the hotel rooms reserved - piece of cake. No problem with the car rental, either. All that's left is the flight.

Okay. I fiddle around and check American Airlines. Only two seats were available on the date and at the time requested for this destination. I check Kayak and a couple of other sites and the best "fit" appears to be United.

I check the United website. Doesn't look complicated or like anything resembling rocket science, so I get started.

I find the flight that I had seen - departure time at about the same time as the American flight. Cool! Seats are available and everything. I find a return flight. Great! Seats are available there, too.

Get confirmation that the change in airline is okay and go online to book the seats. This is as soon as I get back from lunch at about one o'clock.

All is well, right? So I start making the online reservation. I get through the first screen where I pick the flight. I pick the seats for all four legs. I get to the payment information. I enter all of that - so far I'm into this project by about an hour - just for one reservation. I think I've got the reservation made, but I never get an e-mail confirmation.

Hmm. Okay. Do I try again, and possibly double-book? Or do I go to the next reservation? I decide to go to the next reservation and see if the first one will pop up in my e-mail.

I pick the flight - out and back. I pick the seats for all four legs. I enter the passenger information, payment information and... Right in the middle of it, I get a "You have been Redirected" message.  What!?? Redirected to where? For what reason?

I don't know - I haven't got a clue and the website isn't telling me a thing. So - do I start over and hope that I'm not double booking this one, too?

No. I decide it's best to play it safe and call United.

Oh. My. Effing. GAWD!!!

It takes an act of God to get to an agent.

No. I don't want to talk to the automated system. No! I really don't want to talk to the automated system. NO! DAMMIT! I want to talk to a person - hopefully someone with a brain!

Get through that, then I'm warned that it's going to be a twenty-plus minute wait. I'm both irritated and persistent, so I stay on "rot" listening to their music (thank goodness they're not trying to sell me on how wunnerful United Airlines is at this point).  So I wait.

Finally, at twenty-two minutes I get to talk to Rocky.

I explain my problem, including the problem with the website. He says, 'No, the first reservation wasn't booked. Let me transfer you to our other department so you won't be dinged $35 per passenger for talking to me.'

Okay - so I am trying really REALLY REALLY hard to spend nearly $2,000 with this company and this is their customer service?

Needless to say, I am not impressed. But, he offers to transfer me, I accept and after about fifteen seconds of more music, nothing. I mean I could have been in deep space for all I could hear. Still, I wait because I am determined. Five minutes... ten... I give up. I call back.

I re-wrestle with the automated system that doesn't believe me when I say 'Agent' with increasing force.

It finally agrees to allow me to speak to a representative.

By this time I am about to come unglued. Especially when I hear the cheerful automated voice say words to the effect of, "Your wait time will be between fifteen and twenty minutes". So - I've already spent over an hour-and-a-half on this exercise, plus the thirty minutes trying to talk to someone and then waiting while they cut off my call. Another five minutes mud wrestling with the damned automated system and... I get to wait some more?

This is NOT how a successful company deals with its customers who just want to spend their money with them. Or is it?

Gritting my teeth I warn the very nice lady on the other end of the phone that I'm livid and ask her pardon for being short with her, and then I outline my tale of woe. She listens, as she's trained to do. She doesn't get upset - she even offers to waive the $35 per person 'talk-to-me-fee'. Professional. Not delightful. Not pleasant from my perspective at this point, but she was professional.

Unfortunately, the tickets are non-refundable unlike on the website that didn't work.

I don't care. At this point I really do not care. I book the damned tickets which now cost, on top of the airfare, better than three hours of my time. Really?!???

The saying used to be, 'Is this any way to run a railroad?' That's out of date. Now I think the question is: 'Is this any way to run an airline?' Apparently so because the airlines are still in business, still making money.

Personally, after my experience today, I cannot help but wonder how.

Pain, agony and frustration trying to spend money.

Then my colleagues will get to the airport, have to strip off every piece of metal they are carrying. Subject their bags to being x-rayed, and stand with their hands in the air - in the international sign of surrender (as in police scenarios) - so they can have the privilege of being shoved into a space smaller than California allows chickens to occupy.

Really?

All I can do is shake my head and wonder.

At least it isn't me. Yet. Maybe that year-long bucket trip I dream of is not worth the nightmare of booking flight reservations. I wonder if there is a Cunard Liner still plying the Atlantic...

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

An Open Letter to Donald Trump

Dear Mr. Trump:

I watched last night's debate with interest because I am one of the many in the 'silent majority' who are distressed by the interchangeability of the Washington insiders. No matter on which side of the aisle the individual sits, they are no different than those in the other banks of seats when you dig past the outer layer of skin. Even watching the candidates on the stage last night I could see both sides of their mouths working. The right side saying what they think potential voters want to hear, instead of saying what they actually think and would do.

Having someone who is as direct, as outspoken and as unapologetic as you seem to be in the race is refreshing. I cannot speak for anyone else, of course, but when you say something I know it's honest and from the heart - good, bad or ugly - it is you.  With that said, however, I must also say that the empty platitudes are wearing thin.

Regarding Putin and your declaration of 'He's going to like me.' Why? How do you know? I recognize that an arrogant bully such as Putin will respect someone of equal strength and determination, but how will you confront him? How will you position yourself, as President of the United States of America, to go toe-to-toe with him?

The repetition of 'terrific' may well be true, but why? 'He's terrific.' 'She's terrific.' 'They're terrific.' That's all wonderful, but why? What makes s/he / they terrific? Are they nice or smart or... what?

I recognize full well that you are a capable manager. There is no question that you are smart, probably sometimes brilliant in your insights and understanding of the business world. That is proven by your track record. A capable manager, a successful manager must know what they don't know and must fill those gaps by surrounding themselves with strong, smart, capable people who do know. In that position, then, you need to set your staff to work on filling in the blanks you obviously have on international politics and policies. The lack of knowledge was painfully apparent on the stage last night. Generalities don't cut it at this point.

I know the election is more than a year off, but you need to impress us now. It is imperative that we, the American public who is looking for someone to make America Great Again, have confidence in the ability of our candidate to meet the challenges. Not just in the public speeches and debates - but in the larger and far more important (dare I say crucial?) realm of policies and politics.

You're a negotiator. It's your stock in trade and it's something you do exceptionally well. That's in your favor, but you have a wide swath of the country to convince that you are capable of not only negotiating, but of administering.

How will you fix the Veterans Administration?

How will you solve the problems facing this country in the realm of health care? What is your plan to replace Obamacare once it's disassembled?

How will you work around the Commerce Clause and make healthcare portable across state lines?

How will you fix the tax system that's so broken it takes a PhD to figure it out?

Personally, I am dead set against the Progressive tax system that penalizes hard work and rewards laziness. Just look at the percentage of hard working people in this country, me included, who get up every day, who go to work every day, and then see our tax dollars taken from our paychecks so they can be handed over to people who choose not to work, or who work just enough so they re-qualify for unemployment benefits. I work in manufacturing and I know that kind of thing goes on.

I would much rather see a point-of-sale flat tax based on consumption. Eighteen percent. Two percent to the local municipality. Two percent to the county. Three percent to the state and the balance to the Federal government. That way everyone pays their freight because if they buy a stick of gum or a can of beans or a Lamborghini, they pay for it right then and there.

How will you solve the problem of 'anchor babies' given the Supreme Court's past findings on the subject?

How will you resolve the issue of illegals in this country once the border is sealed? Will you dedicate resources to tracking them down, which would be wildly expensive and ridiculously inefficient? Or, will you allow local law enforcement to pick them up as they come to the attention of authorities in the course of day-to-day activities?

These are just some of the questions that have been raised in the past week for me.

As for filling in the gaps in your abundant knowledge, I suggest that you set a number of your trusted people to prepare executive summaries across a variety of sources. Read widely as you have time - even five minutes at a stretch would benefit. Prepare yourself better than you have thus far because, frankly, if you don't, I am afraid that you will be the flash in the pan that was predicted months ago.

As someone deeply concerned about this country, the direction it's heading, the political duty our current elected "representatives" owe to the PACs and unions and special interest groups and utter lack of true representation of the grass roots individual in Washington, I want someone I can trust in the White House.

You may not be the nicest person on the planet with your pointless continued ad hominem comments, but I don't need 'nice'. I need strong and trustworthy. But strong and trustworthy must be balanced by knowledgeable - and that's what has me, and I think a lot of others, concerned.

I hope you or a staffer see this and take a moment to read it, to think about it, and to address it.

I wish you all the best.

Philippa

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