Monday, November 30, 2015

Pillar Post Pillar Post Pillar...

That's how I feel today. Run ragged even though I haven't really done anything. I haven't done anything out of the ordinary, anyway. I just feel stretched.

There are a lot of things going on in the background right now. Just home stuff / life stuff and stuff stuff. Some big, some not so big, some that is threatening to become overwhelming if I let it.

Grandbaby No. 1 is due next spring and that's a huge life change. Suddenly I'm the "old" person in the room and the shoe is currently pinching. It's not that I'm not happy for the parents. I am. I'm thrilled for them because they seem to be thrilled (mostly) with the situation. It's just that I'm too damned young to be so freakin' old and I'm having a hard time adjusting.

There are other things, too.

MIL is fading mentally although she's still front and center physically. Her episodes of getting lost in the house - trapping herself in odd places because she can't remember how to navigate the twenty feet from here to there she's navigated without problem for years - are coming more frequently. Her speech is slurring, even though it's not related to her TIA of a few weeks ago. She's just tired, spending more and more time sleeping. The clock is winding down, it's just a big hanging question of when.

That when will then be followed by now what? That's a whole other realm I'm not ready to poke around in.

Fortunately, because of her bedroom being in our living room, we don't do the whole Christmas thing anymore. It's been four years since we last put up the tree and decorated the house and, quite frankly, I miss it but not enough to long to do it again.

We don't do Christmas cards. It's a huge time and money sink for something that's going to end up in the trash when all is said and done. Besides, if I haven't spoken to you in a year or more, it's likely that neither of us are particularly interested in working hard on the relationship. See my prior post about friendship and what it means to me - the 1:1 relationship. Since neither of us is particularly determined to work hard on it, it's easier to let it slide. Does that mean I'll be poorer for the lack of company? Probably. But that's a choice I've made and I'm ready to stand by it.

At least I don't have that stress, but there are other things and it's those that are making me twitchy.

After the dust of Thursday settled the rest of our weekend was nice. Recovery took about twenty-four hours and things settled down.

I still haven't gone out to buy the new shoes I need, even though that was part of my plan for the weekend. I put that down to the fact that I would rather drive a nail through my foot than go shopping. Can you tell from that, that I hate shopping? I do. Even though the leather upper of my right shoe is torn through and both are cracked and split.

I do have to go shoe shopping before January. That's when El Nino is supposed to hit and we're supposed to get buckets of rain. Gosh! I hope we do. Out of curiosity I was poking around on the interweb yesterday, based on a conversation about the water levels at Lake Tahoe, and I discovered a number of really shocking before and afters of Lake Oroville - one of Central California's major reservoirs.


It's going to take a LOT of water to refill that, and that's just one of the lakes of which I found images. Folsom Lake, east of Sacramento is another one:


I think that's something else that's stressing me, although I don't know why. I can't do anything about it. Still, it's unsettling.

So - pillar post pillar post... A running round of nonsense that I can't affect.

I can't affect MIL. I can't affect Sam, who is also fading although not as quickly as MIL. I can't affect the drought except to keep trying to save water. Many things poking and prodding about which I can do nothing. Is that what it is? Just that is causing me heartburn and problems?

Hmm.  If that's the case then I need to stop and figure out how to deal with it, because I sure as heck am not going to keep going with this sense of impending doom hanging over my head.

So, I'm going to cogitate, perhaps examine my navel in great contemplative detail, and try to figure it out. In the meantime, I hope you have a tidily ordered day.

Best~
Philippa

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


Sunday, November 29, 2015

Arrogance & Division



I have seen and heard several examples of arrogance in the past twenty-four hours. I’m not looking for it, or paying attention. Today I spent most of my time writing and posting one of my stories up on WriteOn. I played Farm Heroes and Bubble Witch. I didn’t sit in front of the television and watch or on my computer and browse. These things just popped up.

On Scribblers, one person declared Friday’s Planned Parenthood shooting a “terrorist” attack, even though no one from the police, FBI or media had or has called it that. That declarative statement is pretty arrogant – an ‘I know what no one else does’ declaration.

This morning I was watching CNN while I fixed and ate my breakfast. They were talking about the Syrian refugees and the fact that a lot of Americans don’t want people who might include a small subset of violent people to be let into the country without proper vetting. Our State Department and FBI and a bunch of other law enforcement and security agencies have warned the government that we can’t vet these people because the systems aren’t in place to do it. Yet, because the Republicans in the House and Senate want to slow the process down and make sure we take reasonable precaution, one of CNN’s talking heads declared that “the GOP is jingoistic”. What? That’s a trait exclusive to the GOP and no one on the left is? No one registered as a Democrat sees the need to check these people before we let them into our country? Nope. Apparently not because this individual seems to know what is in the hearts and minds of everyone who happens to affiliate themselves more closely with the GOP than the Democrats.

Individually, these are small things but they’re coming more often and it’s disturbing if you think about it. It adds to the mind and thought control – you must think this way or you’re “evil” – and divisive nature of discourse.

The Scribblers comment obviously wasn’t considered. It was a word that’s in common use and the larger underlying meaning wasn’t taken into consideration when it was used. However, is anyone who does something evil automatically going to be labeled a ‘terrorist’ from now on? What about the declarations made by some in the Black Lives Matter group?

"Pigs in a blanket, fry 'em like bacon!" was one chant that was quickly and deliberately ignored by the leftwing media. Searching for the following clip, only Fox seems to have carried it on their broadcast.



Another was "What do we want? Dead cops! When do we want 'em? Now!"



That was a few months ago and the liberal media rushed to cover it up - whitewash over it - and it’s been a while since we’ve heard about that, but the declaration was made – why wasn’t that labeled a “terrorist threat”? Or if that’s not palatable, how about a less powerful label – “hate speech”?

Oh! I know. Like duh! It’s because it was uttered by some black Americans.

Because the vocal minority insists that the rest of America “owes” something to blacks for historic events that took place more than one-hundred fifty years ago. African Americans get a pass. They can do and say anything and white Americans are supposed to look away and not comment because, since we happen to have been born with white skin, we’re supposed to feel guilty.

Now that raises, in my mind, the question of where is the equality in that? If people – an individual, a group or a segment of society wants to be respected and treated as an equal, they have to abide by the same rules and meet the same standard as everyone else, or they’re not equal.

The CNN comment is just another example of the arrogance of American media – and it is not restricted to the “left” outlets – NBC and its subsidiaries, ABC and its subsidiaries and CNN. It also includes Fox News which has an agenda all its own.

They suppress stories and “Fair and Balanced” is nowhere in sight anymore. Listen to their talking heads and it’s all a very rightwing slant.

CNN has declared that if we don't want to let anyone and everyone who wants to come across our borders in without checking their backgrounds and trying to discern whether they're coming in to do us harm, we're jingoists.
 
I’m not looking for this stuff. I have other things to do, other things I’m thinking about. But it’s just popped up into my awareness which tells me that it’s probably happening a lot if I were to pay attention.

So what does it mean? I don’t know, but it is worrying.

We have a President who advocates special treatment of black over white and giving a pass to black people.

Remember Ferguson? Obama came out and added his voice to those declaring the cop was in the wrong. But when black people started rioting through the streets, burning businesses and wreaking havoc, nothing was said by our “leader” or his Attorney General, Eric Holder. In the end, the evidence showed the officer was well within his rights to shoot Michael Brown since Brown was trying to get the officer's handgun and he was afraid for his life and was defending himself. Obama spoke out against the shooting but was deafeningly silent on the rioters.

It was the same with Baltimore, and the same with Trayvon Martin in Florida. Obama didn't wait for the evidence in either case. Black person assaulted by white? Don't wait for the investigation. Don't wait until the evidence is in. Just declare the light skinned person was in the wrong and the dark skinned people who are burning cities are just fine. Persecute the light skinned person but give the darker skinned person a pass, no matter what they did.

Now understand me here. I look at people as people. I do not care one whit what color of skin or eyes or hair they have. I look at their behavior - what they do and how they act.

Personally, I think Barack Obama is a dangerous incompetent who looks on the presidency as an on-going golf vacation.

I think John Roberts is a manipulated fool, a tool of the left who hasn’t the first foggiest clue about what his role on the United States Supreme Court is supposed to be.

I admire, greatly, Clarence Thomas, Ben Carson, Alan Keyes, and J.J. Watt.

I despise Hilliary Clinton and John Kerry. Two more unqualified people would be hard to find. Their positions are purely and simply the result of political award ceremonies.

In the case of Hilliary, I am utterly convinced it was a conversation between her and the Democrat party back in 2007 that went something like:

“Drop out of the presidential race and let the black guy win, and you can be Secretary of State. Then, in a few years, we (the DNC) will do everything we can to put you into the oval office.”

"Oh, okay."

To distill this further, anyone who expects, demands or promotes special treatment of one group over another warrants my disgust. Anyone, an individual or a group who promotes or advocates special treatment of one group over another is destructive and ensures equality will never be achieved.

Unfortunately, and worrying to me, is the fact that the divisions appearing in this country are growing and I don’t know that anyone or anything can stop them from spreading. Every time I turn on the “news” – the talking heads who offer opinion and commentary instead of reporting – it’s obvious. Just listen to what’s said, how it’s phrased the meaning of the words spoken.

What we need going forward is honest conversation, respectful and a clear understanding of what is 'fair and balanced'.  Otherwise we'll have to get a boatload of epoxy filler and hope it all holds together.

Think before speaking and stand up to correct those who create division - if we start small, we can move mountains!

Have a lovely day.

Best~
Philippa

Saturday, November 28, 2015

When is "More" Too Much?

Again we have a situation where the news is full of a shooting. Again it's in Colorado. The scene of the Columbine massacre, the Aurora theater shooting, and a number of other high-profile cases, including one in Colorado Springs on October 31, 2015 this year in which a shooter killed three people and was shot, himself.

What fascinates me is that a brief, cursory review of Colorado firearms law this morning shows a couple of gaping holes.

There is no waiting period, for instance. And the State of Colorado prohibits gun registration. Yes - the State of Colorado prohibits gun registration. You can find that for yourself, here: https://www.colorado.gov/pacific/csp/colorado-gun-laws That is the Official Colorado State Patrol website.

A couple of years ago, when legislators tried to tighten up the regulations, after Columbine, after the Aurora theater shooting, before this, the citizens of Colorado held a recall election against four legislators who had proposed stricter gun laws. The ever popular Wikipedia has information on that - four legislators were named, two were recalled.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colorado_recall_election,_2013


So, before the cries of "more gun control!" become too loud, stop and ask yourself, or your roomie, why, if it's so horrible, did the citizens of Colorado themselves fight back against more restrictive laws?

It is an interesting question. Colorado is not precisely a bastion of conservative thoughts and values. Heck! It was among the first states to legalize marijuana. For Heaven's sake, marijuana retailers hold Black Friday sales to attract new customers and offer Christmas gift sets.

http://www.9news.com/story/life/holiday/black-friday/2015/11/27/black-friday-pot-sales/76463526/

I don't get it, I really don't but because the State of Colorado has the laws that it does and the citizens of Colorado seem satisfied with them as they are, okay. I'll shrug and go about my business.

Now, for the sake of intellectual exercise and exploration, let's play pretend. What if the receptionist at Planned Parenthood was a hunter, someone with experience with firearms, comfortable in their use. What if that person, or someone else there, with the same background and experience as my fictional receptionist, had a gun available. What if one of my fictional people, or someone outside, was carrying a concealed handgun, loaded with none in the chamber and the safety engaged but ready to rock and roll if needed. What do you suppose might have happened?

Yes, there might have been equal or greater carnage. Or, maybe, the shooter would have had second thoughts before pulling to a stop in front of the clinic. Maybe he would have had second thoughts even before putting the rifle into his vehicle and putting the key into the ignition. Maybe he would have thought about it and decided not to do that. Or, maybe, that receptionist, or the real-life guy who was outside, sitting in his car who looked square into the shooter's eyes and ended up with injuries resulting from glass from his windshield exploding into the car when the shooter fired at him, could have stepped up and shot the creep dead before he had the chance to terrorize everyone in that clinic, or kill three people.

The idiot's motive(s) still aren't known. The cops have had him in custody for nearly twenty-four hours as I write this, and they still don't know what the idiot wanted or was doing. Suicide by cop, maybe? Or maybe his daughter went to that clinic, had a procedure and suffered some sort of medical complication and he was out for revenge? Who knows. I don't. The cops don't. Only the shooter knows and, apparently, he's not talking.

I don't advocate going back to the Wild West of the 1800's where handgun laws were non-existent. However, I do wonder what it might be like if those of us who legally own weapons weren't surrounded by ignorant people who don't recognize firearms for what they are. They're a tool. These people aren't stupid, they're ignorant. They fear what they don't understand.

I honestly think that if firearms classes were required, if everyone had to go through firearms training, including the safe handling of them, the fear of them would evaporate. Once fear evaporated, the ignorant people who now fear them might come to realize that guns, in and of themselves, are not bad or evil.

I remember once reading that certain civilizations in the Caribbean and South America fear having their picture taken. They think the image is a form of soul stealing. They fear cameras because they don't understand how they work.

It's the same thing when it comes to firearms. People who fear them don't understand how they work.

Granted, unless you beat someone over the head with a camera, pointing it at them won't cause physical harm. It can be argued that pointing a gun at someone won't cause physical harm either, and it won't. It requires the flexion of a finger against the trigger to cause the harm, just as it requires the flexion of a finger to take a picture.

As a personal anecdote, my sister was a very vocal anti-gun advocate until she was in her forties. Then, her friends introduced her to the man she eventually married - a hunter. The last time I saw her, she took me trap shooting and let me use her custom-fitted Purdy shotgun. A year later she and her husband flew down to Arizona and went through a firearms camp. The same camp the FBI and law enforcement agencies use for their advanced training courses. Her then boyfriend taught her, educated her, that firearms in and of themselves are not the problem. They're now married and she still goes shooting.

So, before we talk about still more gun control laws, which have been proved again and again and again don't work, how about talking about instituting gun education laws?

Just a little food for thought.

Best~
Philippa

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

Friday, November 27, 2015

Well, That Was Interesting

I hope you had a great Thanksgiving, surrounded by friends and family. That your turkey or whatever your family served was perfect, the sides were all delicious, and nothing and no one got out of control.

As is as much a tradition anymore as turkey and dressing, we watched football - accompanied by the yelling and screaming previously mentioned in my post of last Saturday.

Cam Newton and the Panthers are amazing - an 11-0 record, beating the Dallas Cowboys quite nicely.

In that game, it was upsetting to see Romo go down on the same shoulder that was broken a few weeks ago. He probably would have been better served by the docs, the trainers and the team ownership if they had given him even a couple of more weeks of rehab to rebuild the muscles and ensure the bone was fully healed. As it is, he went down, his wife was horrified - there was a camera shot of her, head down and crying - and the x-rays are inconclusive.

Later that evening was the flip-side of horrible. Brett Favre had his number retired at Lambeau Field and his childhood hero, Bart Starr, was on hand to celebrate with him. A really excellent moment - on Thanksgiving or not.

Closer to home we had a delicious dinner and then... Yeah. It seems there is almost always an 'and then' accompanied by the opening strains of Beethoven's Fifth - dadadaDA without the follow-on. In case you're not sure, here's the first movement - it's the first couple of bars I'm using as my horror movie warning theme:



Is it any wonder that some musical aficionados refer to that first movement as the "Fate motif"?

Anyway, I had misgivings when hubby came back from the store with a selection of items not on the shopping list. Five bottles of wine, a bottle of Bushmill's Irish Whisky, and two bottles of Drambuie. Anyone else see a problem here? And, hubby is a self-admitted alcoholic. He's been on the wagon for weeks and last night, he fell off - HARD. Really, really hard and he's in a world of hurt this morning.

Even though that's private information, it's something that's common enough among the general population that I'm not afraid to share.

I don't "drink". I indulge, in moderation, but know the signs quite well. When the tip of my nose and my lips get numb, I'm done. No more - just water please. Last night we shared two bottles of wine, with him drinking the lion's share - a glass-and-a-half+ to my one glass - and I was on the cusp. I thought (as in actively thought) about his offer of Bushmill's and decided to have a little. About a finger's worth, and that was enough. From there, I stopped.

And this is, I think, the difference between an "addictive" personality and a non-addictive personality. Hubby is the former. I am the latter. He says, because it's comforting for him to say, that I'm as much of an alcoholic as he is. But I'm not.

We shared the two bottles of wine, then he went to the Bushmill's. He had a glass of that, then decided to add some Drambuie and see how that went down. Another glass of whisky with the Drambuie and... wham. Instant inebriation and it wasn't pretty.

If he had not brought the liquor home last night I would have been a touch, but no more than a touch, disappointed. After all, what's a nice dinner without a little wine? But why on Earth he had to bring home more than a bottle or two is beyond me.

We had chicken for dinner, so a nice dry chardonnay or a crisp sauvignon blanc would have gone well, with a slightly fruity wine for "dessert" - and that would have been enough. What possessed him to buy any more is a mystery to me, and one I'm not allowed to explore. I've tried to explore it and have been routinely slapped down hard for my efforts.

Even last night, when he pulled the Bushmill's from the freezer (which is where he likes to keep it, so it's nice and cold), I asked, "Are you sure?" and he said with practiced joviality, "What's your problem?" My problem.

It's my problem because I can't help but wonder why he's doing this to himself. My problem because if I had said one syllable more he would have lost his temper and told me to 'shut up', or words to that effect. My problem because this morning he's going to be in a bear of a mood and caring for his mother will fall to me. Which is fine, really, but she's fussy and particular and she will fret and fuss and ask a million questions for which I mostly have no answers.

The 'where's * son *' is easy. He's in bed, sick as a dog and hungover. It's after nine o'clock in the morning and he's in bed and will probably be in bed until 10:30 or later.

'What's wrong with him?' is easy, too. She was there. She saw some of the aftermath - the stumbling and staggering and slurring. She didn't see or hear the upstairs bit, but that's just as well.

However, there are a plethora of other questions she might ask, for which I have no answer. Things like, 'why did he drink so much?' Well, yes, I could answer that question. Because he's an alcoholic with all the self-control of a seven-year old left alone with Bill Gates's credit line in a Toys-R-Us. But, for domestic peace, it's better I don't get into that. There are too many potential answers, none of them good.

At six-thirty last evening he announced he was going upstairs, to bed. She followed about a minute later, announcing her intent and going into the bathroom.

In the living room, I turned her bed down, adjusted it (it's got a motorized mechanism that raises the head), got her water, did the lights - bright lights so she can find her way from bed to bath and back in the middle of the night. At seven I was left alone in the family room.

Honestly? It was pretty nice. No blaring television. I turned the volume down and changed the station to the internet radio station I prefer (kdfc.com - all classical, all the time with no ads, just announcements because it's a publicly funded station). Then I spent a couple of hours relaxing and letting the peace of the house steal over me. At nine I went up to bed and was settled in, after getting Sam taken care of, at nine-thirty.

This morning I'm a little drowsy, but no more than that. I finished my whisky and started in on water, and stayed on water all night. Had some more this morning, so I'm in fine shape.

Later today I'll head out and do the errands - after the Black Friday madness has a chance to calm a bit. I don't have to go to any of the malls, thank God. Just to Costco and PetSmart and Safeway or Raley's. Typical errands but I have to do them today because Sam's out of cat food as of this afternoon and if I'm heading across town to do that, I might as well stay across town and do the Costco run. Safeway and Raley's are both between here and there, so it's just another stop in my trip. Easy-peasy and then I'll be done with errands for the weekend.

So - there's a window into my world on the day after Thanksgiving. I do hope that yours was more pleasant, less dramatic and full of satisfaction and great memory makers.

Have a lovely day today, too, okay?

Best~
Philippa

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

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Day Before Thanksgiving - Want & Have & Need

This morning I was over on WriteOn for a few minutes and one of the moderators asked us to post why we're thankful and, as always, there is much to appreciate.

Family
Friends
Health
Home
Job
Enough to eat
Clothes to wear
Coffee in the morning and a bed at night
My cat
My car
My writing and the simple pleasure I get from life.

I have a lot to give thanks for today, yesterday, tomorrow, next week and every day. Even when Life steps in and throws a spanner into the works, tossing me things that aren't fun or nice or easy I can always find something for which to say thanks. All it takes is practice and determination. That's why I call it picking flowers among the rubble.

When life collapses around my ears, as it does from time to time, there's rubble - a debris field that is sized based on the scope of the calamity. But even then, even among that debris, there are bright spots. It just takes practice to find them.

I know that in some ways, to some people, I'm "lucky". No. Not really. I've worked hard for what I have.

I have a house that's in desperate need of repair. On our block we are the decrepit place everyone else shakes their head over. But it is a house. It stands upright and does what it's supposed to do.

Now, would I like to fix it up? Hell yeah! Hubby doesn't, and that's the sticking point.

If I had my way we would throw money into it - and he promises we will, "someday". Unfortunately for him, after thirty-four years of marriage when he says "someday" I know it's really "never-ever-ever-ever-ever-not on your life!" So the house will probably reach a point where it collapses under its own weight before he does anything. But, for the time being, it is standing and it is doing what it's supposed to do for us.

I drive an older car. A 2005 model with more than 130,000 miles on the odometer. It gets me where I need to go. I maintain it, and it does what it's supposed to do, so it's okay.

My family is limited and shrinking, but I am not looking at that. I am looking forward. Sometimes that's the best thing to do. Sometimes that's the only thing to do.

Those who know me know that I do not live a charmed life. I have shared some of my "stuff" with people I trust, and it's those people who I rely on to provide a silver lining when things are bleak. Even if they don't know or appreciate it directly, just the fact that they're there and I can share some of the weight of the not-so-happy things with them is a huge help.

So my house isn't something out of Home Beautiful or Architectural Digest and I have some other not-so-great stuff in my life.

I like my job. It's a good job with a good deal of variety. It's not overly taxing. I'm not taking worries and cares home with me when I leave at night. I'm not in a position where I'm going to get a 2:00 am phone call that something went wrong and I have to get up and come in. I earn enough to keep myself away from the precipice of unpaid bills and past due invoices. It will never make me rich, but it's enough, and that's good because it's all I need.

There's a key right there: how much do you need? It's not how much do I or you or anyone else want, because we all want stuff.

I want to be paid more for what I do. Unfortunately, what I do doesn't have the value to the company for which I work to justify the gap between what I earn and what I want to earn.

I want to drive a newer car, one with fewer miles and more gadgets. The car that I have is perfectly adequate to the job, though. It gets me from here to there and back again safely, so why do I need more than that?

I want my house to be nicer, to be painted with new siding and a new roof, new carpet and new furniture, new window coverings (NOT BLINDS!!!) and new paint. Do I need those things? No. I have walls that are painted and carpet on the floor and furniture to sit on and all of the fundamentals.

It's a matter of separating Want from Need and identifying the fulfilled needs and being grateful for that. That's where I come from, anyway.

To some people the Want is bigger than the Have that fulfills the Need, and I think that's why people are unhappy.

Some people genuinely don't have what they need, even the basics, and that's where the rubber really hits the road. That's where the rest of us have to step in, to offer up the extras in our lives to those people who truly don't have wants because their needs loom so large.

Even I have extras in my life. There aren't many of them, but I have some and those my hubby and I will give up.

We donate a few times a year. Not much, but some. Right now, for instance, we have a garage full of toys and some clothes and books and some other things. They're not really necessities because we're using the necessities ourselves, but they're extras and if the Goodwill or Salvation Army or St. Vincent de Paul Society can use them, sell them and earn some money to do something for someone else, that's all good.

So I think it's a good question. What are you thankful for today? Do you have what you need or are you too focused on what you want to appreciate what you have?

Me? I'm happy, thank you. And grateful because I have what I need and I'm pretty much satisfied with that. I hope you are, too.

Have a lovely day.

Best~
Philippa

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

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Kitty Landmines & Falling Leaves






This is Sam. He's my almost nineteen year old kitty. He leaves little landmines for me overnight. Which is one of the reasons we lock him in a spare bedroom at night. I love him anyway.

At nineteen - or about ninety-two in people years - he has a right to be a bit crotchety and forgetful. He's skinny to the point of bones and skin. His joints don't work like they used to, and neither does anything else. I also suspect that, because of his age and how things don't work properly as we get older, he's not as quick off the mark when the need arises. Or, he has trouble getting the right angle on things in a time of need.

So, I don't mind, really. He did it yesterday. He did it this morning. He may do it again tomorrow. But I know his time is short. He's old.

On the plus side of the ledger today, we got a hefty dose of rain and about a billion leaves fell off the Sycamore trees in front of our building. They're not yet dry enough or worn out enough to be soft. Walking down the street a little while ago, I felt like a kid again. No matter how I lifted my feet, unless I wanted to look like Peter Robin from the Pooh stories, I scuffled and shuffled and made a lot of noise. It was fun. Just like I was a kid. Is this second childhood?

Other things are playing out around me. The weather is key because I do like rain. I like the way it sounds and smells, the feel of the soft air and the crispness of the season.

At work I've tossed my hat into a ring and now I'm waiting to see if it gets tossed back. Initial signs are favorable, but the final decision won't be made for a few months and much can happen between now and then.

I also tossed two of my hats into the ring of a potential publisher for two of my stories. One got tossed back posthaste with a very nice 'thanks but no thanks' note. I haven't heard on the other one so, who knows. Another case of time will tell and I have the time, so I'll keep plugging away and plan on a different course for the one rejected.

That's part and parcel of writing to be published, though. You work your tail off creating the best story you can create but if it's not what the market is looking for just then, forget it. The one that got tossed back isn't what's 'hot' at this time. It may be again, but it's not now.

The other is an erotic romance story with humor and hot scenes and all sorts of stuff to make it interesting. This is what's 'hot' - in more ways than one - right now, so perhaps this will garner interest. At least it hasn't been rejected and, if it is, I'll shop it to a couple of other houses. If it gets tossed out there, I'll self-publish it.

I read through it again last night - all of it - and found only a few things to fix and tweak to fill in a couple of holes. A few punctuation misses. A couple of minor details and one straggler of a detail that needed removing (a scene that's no longer in the story has a passing reference that might be confusing). More details to be added - how did the men pursuing my heroine know where she was? Oh! A miniature GPS transceiver - available from many sources for cheap and only about the size of a quarter. Easily concealable in an item of clothing.

The biggest thing for me on this story though is getting the sequel going again. I've got one started. I'm about a third of the way through it and don't even have a title for it yet, but I know how it ends (I think, unless something changes). I'd like to have that completed before the first book is out so that it can follow in a timely manner and be of equal quality.

Would you think I'm weird if I say that I almost hope this publisher does send another 'thanks but no thanks' letter?

I don't think he will, though. I think, maybe, I got through round one and am in the running to go before the editorial board for consideration. If that's the case, I'll get a note asking for a sample of the story. Or maybe they'll ask for a synopsis. Which is the second bane of a writer's existence.

It's both harder and easier than the back-of-the-book blurb because it's longer, but without telling the story you have to provide the arc.

How does the story start? What's its middle and end? Usually in less than a few hundred words. They can, however, be extremely helpful in identifying problems in a plot.

When I first wrote a synopsis for 'Genevieve's Piano', I realized I had a Grand Canyon of a hole in the plot. Jean's husband wasn't developed enough to be integral to the plot - yet he was supposed to be. It led me back to draw him in 3D, to make him live and breathe as much as Jean and Win. What was his motivation? Why did he do the things he did? Like beat her into a coma that nearly killed her in the opening paragraphs.

So there is good and there is not so good and then there are landmines. And not all of those are left by kitties.

Tomorrow I "get" to spend a few hours doing crafty stuff. Taking glue and glitter and putting them together on Christmas ornaments for our company's Holiday party.

Digging ditches? I like doing that better than crafty things.
Fixing fences? I like doing that better than crafty things.
Scrubbing floors? I like doing that better than I like crafty things.

There are all sorts of stuff that I like doing - but not crafty things. They're too 'fiddly' and don't permit for large movements - like swinging a pick-axe or wielding a shovel or spade or hammer. Even scrubbing floors allows large movements - sweeping movements as you swish the brush across the floor.

But, I volunteered. Not for this, not specifically, but for the party in general and this is part of the party in general that I roped myself into. Stupid. I should know better. Oh well. This too shall pass as all things do and something else will come along.

In the meantime there are my stories and my hope that someone will like something I've written and will pick it up and read it and suggest it to friends and around it will go. Which means that right now, I should get back to writing.

Have a lovely day - enjoy the leaves and watch out for landmines!

Best~
Philippa

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

Monday, November 23, 2015

Seven Year Old Time

Do you remember when you were a kid, and an hour actually was an hour? It was a lo-nnng time. Long enough that days seemed to last for a day, not a minute or two.

That was how my day was yesterday, and it was lovely! I was amazed at how nice it felt to look at the clock, expecting to see it was around ten but finding it was only eight. Then looking again, hours later, to find it was just ten.

I kept expecting it to speed up, to hit "normal" speed in the grup world where a minute lasts about a second (unless something bad is happening when that minute becomes ten seconds). But it didn't. All day and all evening time moved at a stately pace and I was thrilled.

I edited about ten chapters of 'Shady'. Not just edited, but read and tweaked and re-read and refined. I went back farther than where I wanted to actually start working, to make sure the transition from what I had to what I was creating would be seamless. It is. I've added a "spoiler" to Melanie's happy time. I've brought the story to where I wanted it to be, and have modified it a bit. I'm still not entirely happy, but it is better than it was.

From more than 122,000 words on Friday I'm down to 117,000 - even fewer than I was yesterday even though I've added detail and a few other things. The fat is being rendered and the roast is coming along nicely.

I also tweaked the blurb I wrote in preparation for submitting it this week. Sticking a fork in it on Saturday, I discovered it wasn't quite done, so I messed with it a bit and it's better. Now I have to see what's needed / expected and then decide if what I have will work, or if it needs work.

On top of all of that, this is a short work week here in the States. Thanksgiving is Thursday and our company (as most do) is closed on Friday - so I'll have a four day weekend to write and edit and fix and tweak and mess with my story. At the rate I'm going, I may beat the end of January deadline I've set for myself by five or six weeks. If I'm lucky.

Of course, I want to get through this pass, then do another. The end of the story has got to be as strong and well-refined as the beginning, and that's almost harder than writing the thing in the first place.

When I was participating in Authonomy, before it shut down last summer, everyone would read and comment on the first few chapters of a story. Because of that focus and attention, the first chapters always were the strongest - you got feedback on every little detail, all from different perspectives, and adjusted based on what was said and suggested.

The rest of the book would pretty much just lie there, unread and unloved. Personally, the vast majority of the books were okay but in my time there I never once found anything on which I would willingly spend my money. I'm too picky and most writing today is, in my opinion, lazy.

With the ease of self-publishing, the ability to publish a mediocre story at the press of a few buttons, there isn't a striving for real quality.

For instance, there's a book that's just been selected by Kindle Scout for publication, and it's a head scratcher to me. In my opinion it is, at best, mediocre writing.

The entire first chapter is pointless. It adds nothing to the story - nothing to the plot, nothing of merit to the main character, and the secondary character in that chapter isn't more than mentioned another time or two throughout the remainder of the book. Why is he there in the first place?

It also breaks about every rule of good writing there is for an opening scene.

The book (I won't say the story) opens with the first line about a barking dog. Okay... and then what? It's not explained. This is the first line of the book and that dog evaporates without explanation. Why is it there?

The main character wakes up. Big deal. So did I, this morning and yesterday and the day before. That is not an Earth-shattering event because there's nothing else going on. She opens her eyes and achieves awareness. Yippity-skippity.

The blackout curtains aren't as good as advertised. So what? What has that detail got to do with anything else in the story?

She's in bed with a man whom she neither likes nor loves. In the bathroom, which is about the most interesting thing that's happened so far, she has an internal soliloquy about how many times she's found herself in bed with him. Now there's a bright and shining light for the women's movement. The stereotypical woman who can't make up her mind about a man.

And, when that's all said and done, that scene has zero to do with the rest of the story which is about the apparent disappearance of this woman's younger sister. The first part that has to do with the actual storyline is when the main character walks out of work and finds her father waiting for her. He looks scruffy - not like his usual self, and isn't at work, not like his usual self. That's where the story really starts and all that came before is nothing but styrofoam packing.

This drives me NUTS! The book has the potential to be a much better story - if the opening had to do with the rest of the story.

Honestly, if that first chapter were taken out completely the only one who would notice would be the author. It's a darling, pure and simple.

Further, in the draft that I read, the male characters were no better than stick figures. They were mentioned in off-hand terms and, because of the casualness of how they were handled, they didn't even have enough depth or interest to qualify as cardboard cut-outs. They did not stand up off the plane of the page and "feel" as if they might be real people.

Yet this kind of writing qualifies as "publishable". What makes it "publishable" is, almost exclusively, because it's going to be an e-book and the author self-promoted and got a lot of friends to back it. None of that makes the story good. It was just pushed harder than the others.

Once it hits the shelves, assuming it makes it into print, I doubt it's going to go anywhere. There are just too many flaws, in my opinion. I certainly wouldn't buy it - not based on that first chapter or on most of the rest of it I read. It isn't interesting enough to me, although the premise has potential.

Now I am not saying that mine is better, because I don't know that it is. But I am trying to make it better, to make it more interesting and to make all of my characters, primary and secondary, interesting and better than cardboard. That's why I'm laboring over this so hard. I put the first half of it up on Write On back in September, and I haven't added anything to it in weeks. Primarily because I am rewriting much of it - tightening it up and killing my darlings.

And this, my critique of this other person's story, is why I don't write reviews. I'm too brutal, too demanding from the standpoint of a consumer.

Several months ago when I was participating in a "critique" group, I commented on another person's writing and got blasted for it. In that story, there were so many plot holes I could well have been spelunking through a cave system someplace. I pointed them out, honestly and without much in the way of cushioning because that's how I am - and how I prefer to have my own writing critiqued. That did not go down well.

I heard from another member of the group, privately, and was pretty well told that I was too harsh. Perhaps so, but that message didn't change my opinion. All it did was make me drop out of the group. I can't do squishy reviews. I can't do ambivalent critiques. Not about writing and its quality.

So, now that I've written what I have about this story, which may be recognized by someone reading this post, I'll probably get smacked for saying what I have, but I'm not going to retract this because it's one person's opinion. Mine. And I'm entitled to it.

Now, with that said, I'm going to go back to building my world, to killing my darlings and getting my characters up, standing on their own two feet.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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

Sunday, November 22, 2015

I'm Biting My Tongue Out of Respect

In the writer's community there is a phrase that's not, in the current timeline given recent events, really nice or politically correct. It's what I'm doing this weekend, though, and it is a common phrase, so here we go: I am killing darlings.

These are the things a writer creates. They have meaning, perhaps a special charm or favorite flavor but they are things not integral to telling a good story. Putting them down on paper the writer feels clever, excited by them. Then, when it comes time to edit, to slash and burn to distill the tale down to its best, those darlings are in the way. They're taking up valuable real estate, adding whipped cream to the pumpkin pie of the story.

That, by the way, is purely a seasonal reference. I cannot abide pumpkin pie. The flavor and texture of it makes me want to hurl cookies and stuff.

So, the whipped cream is mostly air with sweet flavoring, nothing of substance. It's what's underneath that has body and meaning. The whipped cream darlings are there, sweet and light and covering up the substance. I'm in the process of scraping off the whipped cream, getting down to the substance.

This is a hard thing to do. Think about that moment with your child, any one of them where you know that what's happening is good or necessary or what the child wants but you don't want it. You want to step in, to protect them.

A moment like that was when my baby daughter had to have a throat swab to make sure she didn't have strep. She was a determined little thing and she wasn't going to let that doctor anywhere close to her with that cotton-tipped thing-a-ma-roo. She fought and struggled so hard that he finally called in a nurse and the nurse and I had to hold her down so the doctor could get those little cells from the inside of her mouth. It was horrific, and it still - the better part of a quarter-of-a-century later - makes me cringe to think of it, but it was necessary.

That's what it feels like as a writer when it comes time to scrape the whipped cream.

My story was, as of Friday evening, well over 122,000 words. That's a lot of words. As of today, right now, it's down to a little over 117,000 words. Almost all of them with substance and meaning. There are still some that are fluff and not strictly necessary, but the majority of what's left behind where I am, are better than they were.

I still have a lot to do. I'm about three-quarters of the way through my book and I know there's a lot of good stuff ahead, but even more fluff, so there is still a lot of work. But, my goal is to finish this story, to get it in good enough shape that by January I could proudly publish it if I want to. At the rate I'm going, I'll be in time for that. I might even have time to do another pass, and kill off a few more of those whipped cream puffs.

The next bit gets really interesting, too. Melanie, my MC, has just confronted her husband and told him she's divorcing him. Coming up, she falls under investigation for murder because he dies. Of course she has an airtight alibi, but I'm trying to think of a way that I might make it a bit less airtight. We'll see. That's part of the fun of writing. For me, anyway.

So what am I missing while I sit here, inside on a beautiful autumn day? Blue skies, warm-ish temps, falling leaves and grubbing around in the mud. Because we had rain, we now have weeds. Lots of them. The little beggars are coming up all over the beds where we had the trees taken out. I think the cypress sap had some sort of anti-veg properties. We sometimes got weeds, but nothing like what I'm seeing out there, now. Now, it's a blanket of green. Which is pretty but a right nuisance when it comes time to get down and dirty with them - ripping them out without mercy, roots and all.

Well, we'll see what happens. There are a lot of things that might happen. One of them is that hubby might actually be convinced that the rotting fence that's leaning like a drunken sailor really does need to be replaced. Actually, he does know that it needs it. He just doesn't want to pay for it. I'm not sure what he's waiting for, unless he wants to see if the thing really will fall over. Once the fence does get replaced - before or after it collapses - he's promised to lay down landscape fabric and then pile rocks on top. That's nice. Kind of.

The fabric and rocks do keep the weeds down, but nothing grows. Then he's talking about taking out the back lawn and laying down a patio. Which will give our backyard all the appeal of a parking lot. That's what he wants though. Zero maintenance through concrete. Not my idea of heaven.

Whatever. We'll see. There's a lot between now and then and this and that. In the meantime, I have more darlings to scrape off my substance so I'm going to send this off and get back to work.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Dare I say I cannot wait for the end of November? That is not a popular statement in this household. Hubby is insistent - at high decibels - that I be a football fan at this time of year. Which is fine because I do enjoy watching football - but not when there's a lot of yelling and screaming and jumping up and down no matter what's going on on the field.

Today, for instance, it's Ohio State v. Michigan State. Michigan State is my hubby's adopted team because the California Golden Bears have been wavering between crap and mediocre for the past decade. With all of his energy focused on Michigan State, I am expected to drop everything, plant my butt on the sofa even if I don't want to, and yell and scream right along with him.

Unfortunately for him, yelling and screaming is not in my DNA. I don't like doing it. I don't like hearing it. All I want to do is go into a quiet place and watch the game between doing other things. Have it on in the background, in other words. When there's a good play I'll clap and cheer, but most of the time I sit watching in quiet interest.

It's the same with other sports. He yells and screams at hockey - November to June. He yells and screams at baseball, April to October. He yells and screams at college football, September to January. Pretty much all year long, really. One of those things that we don't agree on.

I've pointed out that the coaches and players can't hear him. We're in California and they're not. That doesn't matter. When I mention that little detail, he flaps his hand in dismissive manner and continues bursting my eardrums.

There will be a brief break in the action once the main football season ends and the bowl games are decided. In the early part of December there will be a few divisional championships, Big 10, Pac-12, SEC and so on, and he'll watch those. But that's not huge because he doesn't have any real favorite teams in most of those divisions. Just Michigan State and - HOORAY! They just won with a field goal as time expired!  Loud clapping but no yelling (at least from where I'm sitting). Now, I do hope they do well in their bowl game.

Still, I can't wait for the end of December. At least with hockey, we only have games on weeknights. Weekends aren't taken up with sitting and watching and yelling and screaming all day long. I swear, it starts at eight-thirty or whenever he gets up and turns on College Gameday, and continues all day long until the last game ends at nine o'clock or later that night. It's loud and tiring and tiresome.

Today I spent most of my day upstairs, writing. I watched the game on mute so I could at least yell happy things at appropriate times and commiserate at not so good times. That was determined, to keep him from bugging me to come down and watch the game with him.

Yes, he's my hubby and we should do things together, but it's painful. Because MIL and hubby are both hard of hearing, the TV is set to BLARE. I wear earplugs and am nagged not to, even though it has no effect on him. And there's the yelling.

Another reason I stayed upstairs is that I am determined to get 'In A Green & Shady Place' finished and ready to go by the end of January. It's coming along and I'm happier with it now that I've changed it up, making it a bit less pleasant for my MC and getting rid of the pure vanilla unicorn happiness.

The first thing I did today was write a blurb for it. A former Harper Collins editor will be opening up his blog for pitches next week. I don't know what he's looking for, how many words or what genres, but if he's looking for what I have, I have my blurb written.

In my experience, the blurb is about the hardest thing of anything to write. How to you distill the most interesting bits of the story into a form that's only a couple of hundred words, one that's 'hooky' enough to interest a potential reader? I've got a link to an editor's blog that addresses that question, and I think I've done it with my 'back of the book' summary. Now it's resting. Kind of like a roast after it comes out of the oven. Tomorrow I'll take another look at it and see if it's nice and juicy or if it needs some work.

Once I get 'Shady' finished, I'm planning on getting to work on 'Genevieve'.

My goal is that next year, once things on the home front change into what's next, I will have three or maybe four of my women's fiction books ready to go, along with my erotica series. I'll issue one per quarter to build momentum and readership, hoping to develop a following who will buy these books and others that come along and will provide some additional income for a few years, at least.

Those are my goals. Now it's up to me to make it happen, as much as I am able. With that said, I think I need to finish this up and get back to work.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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

Friday, November 20, 2015

Life & Living & Marching On

I'm pissed off and depressed and anxious and all sorts of other messy things. So much so that I have taken a couple of days away from writing. As in I have done NO writing in the past few days - and for me that's a lot like holding my breath until I turn purple.

There were the vermin in Paris last week, and the babbling cacophony that's followed ever since.

There have been declarations that I am "ignorant" because I do not take a moderate view toward vermin like those who promulgate and perpetrate such acts. Well, I've got news for those who say that: I have never declared myself to be a scholar on the subject. But I read and I assimilate the information I read and I form opinions and attitudes. And I have just as much right to express my view and opinion as anyone else. But there are some who disagree that I have that right. It appears, based on what was written and exchanged between me and the two in particular, unless I am in precise lockstep with their view of the world, I and others like me should just STFU.

Farther out on the tree limb are the people like the man in Virginia who's all over the news yesterday and today. A public hearing regarding construction of a new mosque and he's standing there accusing everyone who's a Muslim of being in league with the vermin of ISIS. Now there is ignorance. It is as stupid and blind and nasty as saying that all white people are card carrying KKK members, or all blacks are members of the Black Panthers or that all Asians run dry cleaning establishments or restaurants. It's ignorant, insulting and, as I said above, downright stupid.

However, it is based on fear so while it is decidedly wrong, there is at least a handle to grasp for understanding. It's a tiny little thing, a barely there protrusion of a handle, and once the heat of this moment passes I sincerely hope the individual who said such hateful things will see the error of his ways and recant. I also hope that the people to whom this idiot directed his remarks will take the high road, that they see his fear and lack of understanding for what it is: ignorance. As unpleasant as it is, at least ignorance of something can be overcome by education.

There is the wider worry of who is coming across our borders. Eight Syrian men were caught in Texas the other day. Five were caught in Honduras with stolen Greek passports on their way into the US. How many have been missed and why are they here? Are they simply seeking asylum or are they here to do harm? I don't know and neither does anyone else, except for the individuals themselves.

On top of all of this is the news that ISIS is actively, aggressively seeking chemical weapons technology. They've already used sarin against their "enemies" in Syria so it is not beyond the realm of imagination that they'll cheerfully use anything they can lay hands on to spread their terror. What if they do something using chemical agents in the Paris metro or in a place like Stade de France or some other place where many people congregate? It's a horrible thought because some of the things I've read about are seriously scary shit. Like agents that are so deadly that if you touch them with bare skin you die. Agents that cling to surfaces for hours or days or weeks and are just as effective weeks after "application" as they are in the first moments.

With all of this, is it any wonder that I'm depressed and anxious?

I don't want to live in an ugly world where going to a public place means I'm packing worry or fear in my bag along with whatever else I'm taking. I don't want to live in a world where I have to strip down and submit to being x-rayed in order to get onto an airplane. I don't want to live in a world where there are a few vermin negating the rest of civilization - and yet that is precisely where we are.

I don't fear that anything is going to happen to me or my family. We don't go to public places very often. We stay close to home and go about our normal lives. We don't travel. We don't do much of anything, really. So we're safe. Reasonably so, anyway.

Beyond that, when I drill down to the bottom line of my life and living, I'm a pragmatist. I know that no one survives life. At some point I will die. It is just a question of when and how. Truth is, I'm not ready yet, so I hope it doesn't happen anytime soon. I have too many plans, too many things to which I'm looking forward to doing to want it end anytime soon.

I have my bucket trip several years from now. Providing, of course, the vermin are controlled. Wiped out would be better, but that's too much to hope for so I'll settle for controlled.

Sooner, in the not too distant future (based on observation and assumption), I have other changes that will take place. My MIL will pass and I'll enter a new stage of life. I will become the "oldest generation" for our family and I have things in the works that are going to make that first a scary and then a hopeful and hopefully wonderful time. It is scary, though, looking to the future I've mapped out. Once I get there and get my sleeves rolled up, it'll be fine. It's just this preliminary time in which it looms overwhelmingly large. It'll shrink as I get closer. At least I hope so.

In the meantime, I'm going about my business and not losing sleep over that which I can't control, anyway. I hope you do, too.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

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

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Now That I'm Calmer

I took the last couple of days away from writing opinion about what happened in Paris last Friday evening, and about the vermin who perpetrated the act. It's been an angering time, a depressing time, and futile time for the West.

Personally, I'm depressed and disillusioned enough that I don't even want to be doing this, but I'm forcing myself to do it. Quitting is not an option. Not for me, anyway.

In the Coliseum of history, the radical Muslims are leading the rest of the world by a fair amount in the body count column.

Yes, the West continues to bomb places inhabited by the vermin who scurry out from under their rocks to infiltrate the peaceful society that is the majority of humanity, and blow themselves up, taking as many innocents with them as they can. Unfortunately, those bombs that are dropped on the places these vermin live are just as indiscriminate as the suicide vests worn by the vermin. They kill far more peaceful people than they do murderers. I'm sorry to break it to you but there is no such thing as a "surgical" airstrike. Not unless the surgery involves removing healthy tissue to ensure the sick tissue is entirely gone. A radical mastectomy kind of surgery.

I have been away for the past couple of days because I am angry at both the East and the West, and at people who see only one point of view and who will not tolerate another. And in that, I am not speaking of our Middle Eastern friends. There is that kind of shouting down alive and well in Western society.

For the East, I am angry the Muslims themselves because while there are articles being written and words being spoken, those things alone are not going to have any effect on the vermin.

It's like talking to gang members and expecting words to change behavior. When has talking to people who have no soul left inside them ever worked?

The psychology of gang members has been well studied and documented.

Gangs tend to be made up of people who feel that they have been left behind, are separate from their families and society. Many have been victimized, abused or neglected. In the gang they find a place to be, where they are accepted and where hyperbolic speech of hate and destruction is actively encouraged. The louder, the better. These vermin are too far separated from joy and laughter and living and humanity to be swayed by words. They have found a place to be who they have become over time, a home where they are welcomed. Where words of hatred are spewed so regularly they replace the fabric of the soul they once had. They don't see, or perhaps they do but don't care, that the gang leaders look down on them as nothing more than cannon fodder.

The only thing these gang members understand is violence and death. So, the people who see and know these vermin need to do something direct. They need to figure out, within the confines of their societal structure, how they can best solve the problem. It could be a matter of withdrawing young people who are heading down that path from the realm of influence. Perhaps sending them to another place, family in another town or province, or to a reform school of some sort, where goodness is taught in place of hatred.

I'm sure some families do, but others don't, and that is their weakness. Intervention is not a universal will or a goal. If it were, the tide could be turned inside a generation. And that's what this has got to be, a systemic generational change throughout the Muslim community.

Parents must diligently teach their children the teachings in the Quran that speak of peace and the other 'people of the book' - Christians and Jews who also worship facets of Allah. They must teach against violent jihad.

That is one place where I think the Christian Bible has it all over other religious teachings. It is pure, simple and direct: Thou shalt not kill. Pretty much says it all, don't you think?

When they see their children being influenced by the sickness that has infiltrated their communities the parents need to intervene, to take whatever steps are necessary to separate their children from the vermin. Just as they would if their child took to hanging around with flea ridden diseased rats.

If these parents teach their children, show their children that life is good and worth living and enjoying, maybe the radicals will find it harder to find people willing to detonate themselves in innocent crowds.

It will take at least one generation, probably two, before this kind of radical thinking that is at the core of ISIS, Al Qaeda, the Taliban and the other groups is wiped out, put in its proper place - the garbage bin.

I am angry at the West for continuing to do precisely the wrong thing. How many hearts and minds are we winning by bombing the towns and neighborhoods and homes of law-abiding people? How many friends are we winning by blowing up the innocent along with the guilty?

I am also angry at the West because honest exchanges of ideas are suppressed, denounced, vilified. Say the right thing in the wrong way and you're marginalized, insulted. It's insidious and it is precisely that kind of behavior that leads to ISIS. Marginalized people draw together, seek brotherhood to share their ideas, developing new and becoming a group.

France is currently blowing up towns and neighborhoods and homes. So is Russia and so is America. Again, I ask: how many hearts and minds are we winning by this?

How many people are being persuaded by bombs falling from the sky accompanied by the cacophanous chatter coming from the Western media? Particularly when the messages vary from "blow all of 'em up" to "withdraw and let them fight it out amongst themselves".

Within the spectrum of thought and opinion are the centrists. The people in the middle who, for the most part, naively believe words will do the trick and spend their time alternately wringing their hands and vilifying the extremes - even though those on the ends may have a few solid ideas. Instead, the centrists pooh-pooh the statements made by the ends. They twist them and say the speaker is "ignorant" or willfully not paying attention. They wring and whine and don't come up with anything meaningful in the way of plans or potentials.

It's a frustrating situation, deadly frustrating because Paris will not be the last time or the next to last time these vermin scurry from under their rocks. This isn't a matter of killing more people and blowing things up to get them to stop. This is a test for the intellect of humanity, and its will to solve what appears to be an insolvable problem.

Have a peaceful day.

Best~
Philippa

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

Saturday, November 14, 2015

It is NOT the Religion of "Peace"

It's Friday night. You and your friends have been planning for weeks to go out for dinner and then to a concert. All week you've been looking forward to Friday night, through all the hours of work and normal living. You end your Friday afternoon phone call with your best friend, "I'll see you at the restaurant at nine, okay?"

"Great! This is going to be so cool. Jennie says she bought a new dress, just for tonight. I'll see you later!"

You meet. Hugs and kisses are swapped because it's been a while since you were last together. Jennie comes racing down the street, her face alight with pleasure at seeing you. More hugs, more kisses, happy chatter of friends out for an evening.

And then...

Yeah, I'm sure you can tell where this is going. After Paris, after last night and what was done there.

Now, can you tell me why people would hate people like I've described above? What harm have they done? Who have they hurt or damaged in any material way?

Switch up the gender. Make them guys going out for an evening of brews and soccer and bird watching. What harm is there?

And yet, last night, if my girls had chosen the wrong time and the wrong place, harmless as they are, they might well have ended up among the dead or injured.

By what right do other people have to harm them, to hunt them and kill them? None? Is it no right? Are you sure?

In America people shut you down if you say "Islamist terrorist". We're not allowed to say such things because it's "racial profiling" or just pure "racist". We cannot call out and say what we think about Islam and its teachings - we're bigots and ignorant if we do.

Just yesterday Obama was lying through his teeth - knowingly telling people what he knew was completely and utterly untrue: ISIS is not getting stronger. And then, hours later, more than one hundred people were slaughtered - massacred while they were out for a simple evening of pleasure with friends.

If the West, Europe and America in particular, deny this mess, why can ISIS not grow stronger, become bolder, wreak more havoc? If we look away and pretend - fingers in our ears and lalalala from our lips - why shouldn't they plan another attack, bigger perhaps?

ISIL and its parents - the PLO, Taliban and Al Qaeda - have been growing for years. Israel has a long history of being attacked by Muslims. Muslims have targeted buses, cafes, schools, stores, every place where innocent people going about their business tend to gather. And what do we do? We tut-tut and shake our heads and fingers and, for all intents and purposes say, "You really shouldn't do that."

If Islam truly were the Religion of Peace as advertised - where are the mullahs, the clerics and the people who pursue that form of belief? Why are they not standing up, shouting from the rooftops and screaming, "STOP!" Why are Muslim parents not teaching their children that this is wrong, that it is the evil that it is?

Where is that outrage, that moral certitude that what these people are doing is worse than evil?

They say actions speak louder than words. But do you know what speaks more loudly than actions? Silence. And the silence from the Muslims around the world is deafening.

We have fed the poison that is ISIS and Al Qaeda and the Taliban because we have done nothing to stop it in its tracks. In the 1980s when Osama Bin Laden was fighting against the Russians that had invaded and were trying to occupy Afghanistan, we armed him and his "freedom fighters". All in a good cause, right?

What we have got to understand is that these people don't look at life through the same prism we do. To them, death is welcome - anticipated and glorified. To us, it's something to fear, to avoid and to hope never to experience. It is why young Muslim men and women are perfectly willing to strap explosives to their bodies, to walk into a crowded theater or market or restaurant and press a button. They. Don't. Care.

They don't care about themselves or about you or about me or about anything. They are taught from the moment of birth to hate, to hate anyone who does not think like them or worship like them. They hate our freedom and our zest for living and it galls them.

By the time they reach their teens, these people are so blinded, so indoctrinated in hate - of themselves and of others - that killing is, to them the right and only thing to do.

Talk about zombies. And these zombies are coming for us - for you and me. This is not new. This is nowhere close to being new.

Take a few minutes and peruse the list below. It comes from Wikipedia  and even they admit it is not complete. I can tell you straight up, for instance, they did not include the 1972 Munich attack on the Israeli compound in which eleven Jewish athletes were murdered by members of an off-shoot of the PLO.

    1980s

    1990s

    2000s

    [28]

    2010s

    2010 – 2014

    2015 – 2019

    • Afghanistan January 5, 2015 – A car packed with explosives drove up to the headquarters of EUPOL Afghanistan, a European police-training organization, in Kabul and detonated. Taliban claimed responsibility. 1 killed 16 wounded.[86]
    • Iraq January 6, 2015 – Two suicide bombers attacked a mosque in the town of Al-Jubba while Iraqi soldiers were resting, killing 10 soldiers plus the two attackers. Clashes following the bombings left 13 security personnel dead and 21 wounded.[87]
    • France January 7–9, 2015 – A series of 5 attacks in and around Paris kill 17 people, plus 3 attackers, and leave 22 other people injured.
    • Nigeria January 8, 2015 – 2015 Baga massacre. Boko Haram attacks town of Baga in northern Nigeria killing at least 200 people. Another 2000 are unaccounted for.[88]
    • Lebanon January 10, 2015 – In the 2015 Jabal Mohsen suicide attacks 9 people died and 30+ were wounded.
    • Egypt January 29, 2015 – January 2015 Sinai attacks. 44 killed, several wounded.
    • Pakistan January 30, 2015 – Suicide bomber killed at least 55, injuring at least 59 in a Shiite mosque in southern Pakistan.[89]
    • Pakistan February 13, 2015 – Heavily armed militants killed at least 19 people and wounded more than 40 after they stormed into a Shiite mosque during Friday Prayer in a suburb of Peshawar.[90]
    • Denmark February 14–15, 2015 – 2015 Copenhagen attacks. A gunman opened fire at the Krudttoenden café and later at the Great Synagogue in Copenhagen, killing two civilians and injuring five others.[91]
    • Nigeria March 7, 2015 – Five suicide bomb blasts leave 58 dead and 143 wounded in the 2015 Maiduguri suicide bombing.
    • Pakistan March 15, 2015 – Suicide bombers kill at least 15 people in attacks on two churches in Lahore.[92]
    • Tunisia March 18, 2015 – Bardo National Museum attack. Militants linked to Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) attack the Bardo National Museum with guns, killing 21 people and injuring around 50.[93]
    • Yemen March 20, 2015 – 2015 Sana'a mosque bombings. 135 killed in bombings on several mosques by ISIL.[94]
    • Libya March 25, 2015 – ISIL affiliates, The Shura Council of Benghazi Revolutionaries in Libya carried out suicide bombings in the city of Benghazi. Twelve were killed and 25 wounded. Five additional dead during attacks with a local militia.[95]
    • Somalia March 27, 2015 – Makka al-Mukarama hotel attack. 20+ dead 28 wounded.
    • Kenya April 2, 2015 – 148 killed in Al-Shabaab's Garissa University College attack.[96]
    • Saudi Arabia April 8, 2015 – In the city of Riyadh two policemen are shot dead. ISIL is blamed to be behind the attack.[97][98]
    • Somalia April 14, 2015 – Militants of Al-Shabaab attack a government building in Mogadishu in the 2015 Ministry of Higher Education attack. 17 dead 15 wounded.
    • Iraq April 17, 2015 – A series of bombings by the ISIL occurred through Baghdad. 40+ killed 59+ injured.[99]
    • IraqIraqi Kurdistan April 17, 2015 – A car bomb exploded at the entrance of the US consulate in Erbil, Iraq. ISIL took credit for the attack. 3 killed 5 wounded.[100]
    • Afghanistan April 18, 2015 – A suicide bomb detonated in front of a bank in Jalalabad, Afghanistan. ISIL claims responsibility. 33 killed 100+ injured.[101]
    • France April 19, 2015 – A 32-year Frenchwoman is murdered by a gunman whose plot to attack a church is foiled shortly after.[102]
    • Somalia April 20, 2015 – A minivan of UN workers was bombed by Al-Shabaab in the Puntland region of Somalia. 9 dead 4 injured.[103]
    • Bosnia and Herzegovina April 27, 2015 – At the Zvornik police station terrorist attack in the city of Zvornik, Republika Srpska, in Bosnia and Herzegovina, an armed member of a wahhabist movement opened fire on the police. In the shooting, a police officer was killed, two others were injured, and the attacker was killed by police.[104]
    • Iraq May 3, 2015 – Two car bombs were detonated ten minutes apart in Baghdad, Iraq. Nineteen were killed and an unknown number wounded. ISIS claimed responsibility for the attacks.[105]
    • United States May 3, 2015 – Two gunmen attacked the Curtis Culwell Center during a 'Draw Muhammad' cartoon art exhibit in Garland, Texas . 2 dead (perpetrators) 1 injured.[106][107][108][109][110]
    • Afghanistan May 3, 2015 – Taliban militants overran checkpoints in Warduj, killing 17 policemen.[111]
    • Afghanistan May 4, 2015 – A government bus was attacked by a suicide bomber in Kabul, killing one person and injuring 15 others.[112]
    • Iraq May 10, 2015 – Two car bombs were detonated ten minutes apart in Baghdad, Iraq and surrounding towns of Taji and Tarmiyah. ISIS claims responsibility. 14 were killed and wounding 30.[113]
    • Afghanistan May 10, 2015 – A bus carrying Afghan government employees was attacked in Kabul by a suicide bomber, killing 3 people and injuring 10. Taliban claimed responsibility.[114]
    • Pakistan May 13, 2015 – A bus carrying Shia Muslims was attacked by six armed gunman who rode up in motorcycles. Several Islamist groups claim responsibility. 45 dead 13 injured.[115]
    • Afghanistan May 14, 2015 – A hotel that was hosting a cultural event was attacked by Taliban fighters in Kabul leaving 14 dead including an American, an Italian, and 4 Indians.[116]
    • Afghanistan May 17, 2015 – A Taliban suicide attack near the entrance of Hamid Karzai International Airport targeting a European police training vehicle. 3 dead 18 injured.[117]
    • Afghanistan May 19, 2015 – A suicide car bombing detonated in the parking lot of a Justice Ministry building in the diplomatic section of Kabul, killing 4 people wounding 42.[118]
    • Libya May 21, 2015 – A suicide bomber detonated his explosives at a military checkpoint outside of Misrata killing himself and two guards.[119]
    • Saudi Arabia May 22, 2015 – A suicide bomber attacked a Shia mosque during prayer in the al-Qadeeh village. ISIS claimed responsibility for the attack. 21 dead +90 injured.[120]
    • Afghanistan May 25, 2015 – Taliban militants killed 19 policemen and six soldiers during a siege at a police compound in Nawzad District of Afghanistan.[121]
    • Kenya May 26, 2015 – Al-Shabaab militants attacked two police patrols which turned into a gun battle north of Garissa, 5 police officers were injured but they were able to kill both of the attackers.[122]
    • Iraq May 28, 2015 – Two car bombs were set off minutes apart targeting the Cristal Grand Ishtar Hotel and the Babylon. 10 killed and 30 wounded.[123]
    • Saudi Arabia May 29, 2015 – A suicide bomber attacked a Shia mosque in Dammam detonating the bomb in the parking lot. 4killed, unknown injured.[124]
    • Iraq June 1, 2015 – Three suicide bombers in humvees attacked an Iraqi police station in the Tharthar region in Northern Anbar Province. 41 dead, 63 wounded.[125]
    • Iraq June 13, 2015 – Four suicide SUV car bombs went off in an Iraqi police station in the Hajjaj near Tikrit and Baiji. 11 dead, 27 injured.[126]
    • France June 26, 2015 – Saint-Quentin-Fallavier attack – Beheading in a factory near Lyon, head marked with Arabic writing and Islamist flags. Gas canisters planted provoked a fire. 1 dead, 11 injured.[127]
    • Kuwait June 26, 2015 – 2015 Kuwait mosque bombing – 27 people killed in explosion at Shia Imam Sadiq mosque in Kuwait City, medical sources tell Al Jazeera. Claimed by ISIS
    • Tunisia June 26, 2015 – 2015 Sousse attack – Attack in Tunisia against two tourist hotels, over 28 people died.
    • Somalia June 26, 2015 – Battle of Leego (2015) Attack on AMISOM base in Somalia with a car bomb, assault rifles and RPGs, causing over 30 military deaths.
    • Israel June 29, 2015 – 2015 Shuvat Rachel sh
    • ooting shooting attack on civilian car, 1 death.
    • Turkey July 20, 2015 – 2015 Suruç bombing Suicide bombing killed 33 people and injured 104 in Kurdish majority city of Suruç. ISIL claims responsibility.[128]
    • Iraq August 13, 2015 – 2015 Baghdad market truck bombing A truck bomb in a Baghdad market killed more than 70 and injures 200.[129]
    • France August 21, 2015 – 2015 Thalys train attack Shooting and stabbing in train traveling from Amsterdam to Paris injures 5. The incident is believed by French police to be an Islamist terrorist attack.[130]
    • Iraq September 17, 2015 – Two suicide bombings in Baghdad killed 10 and injured 55. ISIL claims responsibility.[131]
    • Germany September 17, 2015 – An Islamist of Iraqi descent attacked and injured a police officer with a knife in Berlin. 1 injured, 1 dead (perpetrator).[132]
    • Yemen September 24, 2015 – A bomb attack on a Shia mosque in Sana'a killed 25 and injured dozens more during prayers for the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Adha. Claimed by ISIL.[133]
    • Bangladesh September 29, 2015 – Three men on a motorbike shot and killed an Italian aid worker. The attack has been claimed by ISIL.[134]
    • Nigeria October 1, 2015 – Multiple suicide bombings by Boko Haram in North-East Nigeria killed 14 people (including the bombers) and injured 39.[135]
    • Israel October 1, 2015 – Gunmen opened fire on a car near Nablus on the northern West Bank, killing a man and woman. 4 of their 6 children were also in the car and witnessed the attack, but were uninjured. The attackers have been praised by Hamas.[136][137]
    • Australia October 2, 2015 – 2015 Parramatta shooting. A NSW Police Force civilian employee was shot dead outside NSW Police Force headquarters on Charles Street, Parramatta, Sydney by a 15-year old lone gunman. The gunman then engaged with NSW Police Special Constables in a shootout before being killed, 2 dead.[138]
    • Bangladesh October 3, 2015 – A Japanese man was shot and killed in a similar fashion to an Italian aid worker killed 4 days earlier. The attack has been claimed by ISIL.[139]
    • Iraq October 3, 2015 – In Baghdad, two suicide bombings in Shiite majority neighbourhoods kill at least 18 people and injure 61. Attack claimed by ISIL.[140]
    • Afghanistan October 5, 2015 – Two suicide bombings in Kabul targeted an Afghan intelligence centre. 3 people were injured in the attack, claimed by the Taliban.[141][142]
    • Somalia October 7, 2015 – Militants of Al-Shabaab ambushed and killed the nephew of Somalia's president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud. 2 dead.[143]
    • Turkey October 10, 2015 - In the 2015 Ankara bombings at least 95 people were killed and 245 injured. According to two high ranked sources in the Turkish security forces ISIL is most likely responsible.[144][145]
    • Chad October 10, 2015 – Multiple suicide bombings in Chad killed 33 people and injured 51. The attack is believed to be the work of Boko Haram.[146]
    • AfghanistanUnited Kingdom October 11, 2015 – A bomb attack in Kabul, targeting a British military convoy injured 7 Afghan civilians. The attack has been claimed by the Taliban.[147]
    • Nigeria October 22, 2015 – 20 people were killed in the northeast state of Borno, Nigeria in a Boko Haram attack.[148]
    • EgyptRussia October 31, 2015 - Bomb on board a Russian jet brings it down in Sinai, bound for St Petersburg, killing 224 people. [149]
    • Lebanon November 12, 2015 - Twin suicide bombings kill 42 people in the capital city of Beirut. [150]
    • France November 13, 2015 A series of 7 attacks kill 153 people in the capital city of Paris. [151]
Wikipedia - List of Islamic Terrorist Attacks

Do a body count from this - how many innocent men, women and children have been killed in the name of the religion of peace?


I can tell you that in 2015 alone there have been sixty-six terrorist attacks around the world. From this list and excluding the suicide bomber themselves where I could discern who or how many, 1,775 people have been murdered and 1,857 people have been injured - and that is just since January of this year.

Have a safe day.

Best~
Philippa

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