Sausage

In Costa Rica, I saw how sausage gets made. I watched as workers pushed chunks and scraps of raw meat, ribbons of yellowed fat and a mix of pungent spices into a huge metal funnel with grinding beater blades. I remember the workers, in their red-flecked clothing, smiling and nodding their heads in greeting. I vaguely recall my very kind host, a consultant for the American Soybean Association, explaining the sausage program, funded in part by U.S. soybean growers. Most vividly, even 20+ years later, I recall the strong scent of spices and blood mingling and how my stomach hovered on the brink of nausea. I survived, although the faint scent of sausage cling to my clothing. I vowed to never again watch sausage being made. Tomorrow, I take the first step toward another sausage grind. I plan to attend a meeting to learn how to serve on a Missouri state board or commission. I am not adept at sitting still or wading through long agendas. And I possess a low tolerance for windbags. However, I am a sausage survivor. And in a state preparing to honor Rush Limbaugh with a sculptured bust in the Capitol building in Jeff City, that credential alone may qualify me for service.

Girl Scout Cookies

While Birdie bought the Girl Scout cookies, Big Guy is enjoying them. Birdie intentionally stashed the cookies in "her car," so Big Guy wouldn't find them. Then Birdie slept in this morning and Big Guy drove "her car" to work. But like a fox set loose in the hen house, Big Guy sniffed out the cookies. Now he is snacking in style. If I were Birdie, I would have hid the cookies underneath the mound of clean laundry heaped by the dryer. Big Guy never looks there. But then again, neither does Birdie.

Why Aren't We Talking About Jobs?

Posted by a friend on Facebook: This is why job hunting for graphics jobs has been less than productive! Designers aren't valued much these days as this ad suggests, this is what I have been finding over the past few years: 

Full Time Graphic Design for Websites $3-5/hr budgetWe are searching for a top notch CREATIVE graphic designer to work for us full time! You must be very creative and know how to create website designs, logo and more.
No companies!!
No agencies!!
Only freelancers / self employed designers
This is a long term job and cost is everything to us! If you looking for a high rate per hour don't apply!Full Time Graphic Design for Websites $3-5/hr budget
- United States
 Comment:  They've got to be kidding, right? Shouldn't there be at least a 1 in front of those numbers? Do they really think they are going to get someone with actual talent?

 

Reply: Well, 1) they get what they pay for IF they get anyone at all and 2) Orlando in particular is bad for graphic designers because you have Full Sail graduating 2 classes who are graphic design oriented every month, plus UCF, Valencia, SCC and Rollins all have graphic design degrees and IADT and what ever other vocational schools around here have graphic design programs. There are more graphic designers than there are jobs around here and with so many out of work, someone WILL take this job.

 

Comment: While back I ran into an ad that wanted a manager for a night club that was hand's on being the host or hostess with the mostest which also included hiring the music acts AND running the website, MAKING the web site ..the pay was not near the amount needed for the superperson they were looking for and then was the kicker..Drug free ... and I said "are they kidding?"

 

Reply:  I understand everyone wants more for less, but this kind of thing is insulting and shameful. At least they should be offering minimum wage. I know this market is over run with graphic designers and if I want to stay in this field, moving would be the thing to do. It is still frustrating to be so undervalued!

 

Comment: Can they even do that? Offer below minimum wage?

 

Reply: It's contract work, they can offer whatever they want. Now getting someone to accept that offer is a whole different thing! Unfortunately this days, with so many people looking for work, they will more than likely find someone who will take it as it is more than nothing.....just barely! But then again, they will not be getting top notch either.

 

 

Goodbye Little Book Store

Tonight I grieve for The Little Bookstore. In two weeks, its owner will lock the doors and walk away. Almost from the start, my faith in the little shop failed. It was up against a big-box bookstore and temptingly clickable Amazon. And booklovers, too, are a spoiled bunch. They crave the crispness of a never-turned virgin page and the immediacy of a bestseller. They dump their dog-of-a-book at the used bookstore for credit and keep their treasures. Purists use the library. Book groups share among themselves. To many of us who knew the little bookstore, it stood like a David encircled by Goliaths. And this David lost. Other Davids remain--ones better equpped with new stock, specialities, author connections and children's story hours. I plan to shop the David stores, but I will buy from the Goliaths, too. I'm a booklover and I'm spoiled.
What I'm reading now:  Ape House by Sara Gruen.

Grits Served Cold

Most times, if I suddenly pop up wide awake, I am driven by my dreams--crazy images of Big Guy driving the minivan with the party pony and giraffe wedged in the back seat or some other such nonsense. But not this morning. I awoke fearing that my writing on Cheesy Grits might have inadvertently come across as endorsing Newt Gingrich. Not so. Many a fool is smart enough to eat grits well. But that doesn't make him a fool worth voting for. Newt is a man who ate grits with his wife and with his girlfriend, too. I don't know if he ate them with cheese, buttered or plain. Or if the wife served them in a bowl while the girlfriend served them on a plate. But a man who eats his grits in two places isn't worth fixing grits for, at least not hot grits. And there's nothing like the rubber cement of cold grits to remind you to take out the trash.

Cheesy Grits

Mitt Romney ate cheesy grits. So now, with a ya'll thrown in, he understands the South? I doubt it. I've got southern roots, and I don't understand the South. But I do know how grits are supposed to be eaten, and starting with "cheesy" Mitt got it wrong. As proof, I refer to the 1952 Great Grits Rebellion at North Georgia College in Dahlonega. My dad participated. He may have instigated it as few bits of mischief on that quiet campus lacked an Ed stamp of approval. As Dad related the story--many times--each morning, the dining hall plated great scoops of grits dotted with butter alongside the eggs. And the students ate them. Then someone messed with the system.One morning, the grits were served in bowls and the students were expected to like them that way. They didn't. In a moment of intense rebellion for the placid 1950s, the grits got dumped. That's where the story gets vague--I don't know if students dumped grits on tables, floors or on top of each other's closely shaved ROTC-standard crewcut heads. But the grits weren't eaten. And the next day, the grits returned to the plate. In these modern times, grits are eaten with cheese. And they are enjoyed in bowls with spoons as well as old-style plated with a side of eggs. But to understand the South, I encourage politicans to dabble in grits more thoughtfully. First., try them served on a plate next to eggs, preferrably cooked up in the kitchen of young mom with mess of young kids, who needs cheap grits to feed them. That's how many North Georgia students first learned to love them. As for "ya'll," park that word at the door, Mitt. If you're not Southern, it isn't yours.

I Support Planned Parenthood

I'm an angry woman. So today, I put my money where my mouth is. I donated money to Planned Parenthood of St. Louis and to Planned Parenthood Global as well. Before I donated, I did my research. I went to the Planned Parenthood websites and read about where my money will go. My only regret is that I waited so long. I wish politicians--loudmouthed and otherwise--would take the same time to learn. Through many programs, Planned Parenthood keeps women healthy and gives them control--especially in situations and countries where they are largely powerless and voiceless. And it does all this while being spit upon. Lost somewhere in the actions of Planned Parenthood, the squabble over contraceptives and basic sexual health care, and the acrimony of this time lies a "What Would Jesus Do?" moment. I can't place my finger on exactly where that moment would be--but it's not with those who have the power, but rather with the powerless.

Women Are A Private People

When niece Fancy-Free posted her 5 a.m. rant about access to contraceptives, it confirmed what I have been thinking. This winter is a cruelly mean season. Women are under attack for what we do and why we do it. There aren't a lot of women speaking out, in part because we are a private people. Our pain; our periods; our miscarriages; our pregnancies; our infertilites and our sex lives aren't topics we freely lay out to be poked, prodded, judged and cost-accessed by others. But in this lean time of decency, we're forced to do just that. Lost in the sound and fury is our right to live our lives as we see fit, privately. Fancy-Free touched hard on contraceptives as pain relief. I want to touch just as hard on contraceptives as birth control. The women and families who suffer without adequate free access to contraceptives are those that can't afford contraceptives. For hospitals and individuals to drape themselves in "conscience" to deny what's fair to others is a travesty. It takes a village to raise a child, it takes a village to support healthy families. We're all part of the same village. The best we can do as a village is make sure every child is planned, wanted and provided for.  And on our way to being our best, give women back their privacy.

A Few Words From Niece Fancy Free

Confessions of a dirty slut

by Fancy Free on Tuesday, March 6, 2012 at 5:12am ·

Recently, there's been a lot of debate about whether employers should be required to choose insurance policies that include birth control coverage for women. This discussion has degenerated into vicious partisan attacks, claims that birth control is for "recreational" use, and the idea that women only want birth control because they want to have promiscuous sex, thereby requiring employers to provide coverage for birth control is requiring everyone to subsidize those dirty, dirty sluts.

While I want to believe that my friends on Facebook are educated enough to realize that birth control is NOT just for sex, I've decided to come out with a personal example. To be honest, this confession is humiliating, but I value my privacy and dignity less than I value my fellow human beings' health. Here's the face of one of those "whores" who relies on insurance coverage for birth control.

After my first few years of puberty, I started taking birth control. Let's get this straight; that is NOT because I was bangin' every guy in town. If that's what your mind jumps to, my friend Chris Hansen would like a talk with you. No, the reason I began taking birth control, and the reason I still do, is because without it, I have horrible pain during my menstrual cycle. I'm not talking about cramping. I'm talking about shaking all over, puking, screaming, crying, out-of-my-gorram-mind with pain for at least a full day. So independent, so grown-up, but calling my mom and begging her to come rescue me so I could lie on her couch and sob and moan and scream, pleading with my mommy to please please make it stop help me mommy please. I've broken bones, I've been kicked and trampled by horses, I've had that infamously-painful appendicitis. But no pain I've ever experienced comes close to the pain I feel during that time of the month.

Before starting birth control to address this, I tried all kinds of pain medication - prescription and non - and every wives' tale technique in the book, Western and Eastern, to relieve the pain. Not because I thought that birth control was only for evil sluts; thankfully, my wonderful mom didn't raise me to believe such nonsense. I was just reluctant to alter my hormone levels every day of the month to protect me for one or two days. I wanted to try less-intensive methods first. Finally, I caved.

Now, my cramps, while still painful and taxing, are at a manageable level. Now, I don't have to miss school and work and interviews because I'm incapacitated with pain from a cause too embarrassing to explain to professors and employers. Now, I'm not missing out on a day or two of my life each month. Now, I get to live like a normal human being.

At the moment, I'm still on my family's insurance. And thankfully, my mom continues to choose a health insurance plan that covers birth control. But in just a few short years, I'll be on my own, just like millions of other American women. My best option for insurance coverage will likely be on my employer's group plan. And that group plan needs to cover birth control, not only for people like me, but for others with even more pressing needs - like agonizing and dangerous ovarian cysts, or acutely life-threatening endometriosis.

Recently, I had a glimpse of what it would look like the other way. We switched insurance plans to one that doesn't cover the brand of birth control I was on. The blood drained from my face as I stared at the numbers on the pharmacy computer. I left my purchases on the counter and paced up and down an empty aisle, pale-faced, stomach clenched, fearing what would happen to me in just a few short weeks if I couldn't afford my medicine. I called my mom, panicked and trembling, and she advised me to call my OB-GYN. Thankfully, I was able to switch to a different type of birth control that day, one that was covered by our new insurance.

But what would have happened if I needed a specific type and couldn't switch?

What if I didn't have insurance coverage for birth control at all?

You shouldn't have to be a woman, shouldn't have to go what I and others have gone through, to realize that birth control is not just for contraceptive purposes. We're not asking that insurance cover condoms, which as far as I know are ONLY for sex. We're asking that every woman in America have affordable access to hormonal treatment. For some, like me, it's important for quality of life. For others, it's essential for their health and safety. And yes, for others, it is indeed "only" for contraception. "Only" another line of defense between a faulty condom and an unplanned pregnancy. "Only" saving insurance companies thousands of dollars in prenatal care and deliveries. "Only" saving unwilling fathers from being trapped paying child support to a woman they didn't want a baby with. "Only" keeping people who can't afford a baby off of welfare. "Only" preventing abortions. "Only" giving women the right to control when they reproduce, allowing for a better-educated, more powerful workforce and higher standard of living for all Americans.

No person should have to choose between buying vegetables and gambling with infertility or death. No person should have to go through agonizing, easily-treatable pain because they turned over an unlucky card. No couple should be forced to rely solely on a thin piece of latex when they could have another line of defense. No woman should be denied affordable birth control.

In the 21st century, it just doesn't make sense.

Cherry Vodka

At the CVS store, at 11 a.m., I found myself stuck in line behind a woman. She was dressed in workout clothes, with blonde highlights overlaying her dark brown hair. I figured her for a West County mom running errands while the children were in school. As I waited, the credit card reader declined her card. That's when I noticed what she wanted to buy: A large bottle of Cherry Vodka. After a few more failed attempts to pay with credit, she dug enough cash out of her purse to buy a smaller bottle of Cherry Vodka. As I left the store, I saw her in the parking lot. I watched as she hopped on a bicycle, CVS bag in hand, and began pedaling in the right lane of busy Olive Blvd. Without a helmet, I noted. Would I have judged her so harshly if she had been a man? I don't know. Would I have even remembered her? Probably not.