Attribution from Snopes

Friends on Facebook often post things and ask the rest of us to share by re-posting.  The problem is that these tidbits are not always what they seem to be.  Before I re-post anything, I check it out on the marvelous urban legend web site www.snopes.com

Today someone posted something by George Carlin.  Except George Carlin never wrote it. Snopes revealed the essay,The "The Paradox of Our Time", was written by Jeff Dickson in 1998.   It was a great piece and sounded like Carlin, but no, it wasn't his. Carlin himself denied over and over that he wrote it, but it keeps wandering around the Internet with his name affixed.  Even odder, along the way someone added a bit of grunge that might have been written by Erma Bombeck or maybe even Helen Steiner Rice.  Carlin material?  Absolutely not. 

So I posted a reply to the sender revealing the truth.  I've done this before.  It is always resented.  "Why not send it on?' they ask.  The friend thought it was a nice touching piece.  What harm could it do? 

What harm?  We live in a media world full of misinformation. People listen to Fox News and find web sites that agree with whatever they want to believe. They listen to people who stretch the truth for a living. I don't want to contribute to it.   

Besides, I taught English, worked as a librarian and for years was a journalist. Checking sources becomes a habit.  I want attribution before I share anything.  

The people who get the angriest with me, as it happens, are writers, librarians and teachers.  Shouldn't they be at the forefront of correcting errors, misconceptions and outright untruths?  

I think the Mickelsons at Snopes are heroes valiantly struggling to keep the Internet honest.  

 

Solstice

Last night, I didn't clean up or do the dishes after my party on the chance the Mayans were right.  They were wrong, it seems.  We're still here so I spent the day freezing up food and hiding the cookies from myself.

It is the Winter Solstice, however, the shortest day of the year and the beginning of my winter depression which will begin the day after Christmas.  I hold on by taking Vitamin D3 and St. John's wort, using a light board and thinking about spring.

I began my spring countdown on Facebook two years ago and my friends liked it.  So today I announced it was 90 days until the spring equinox.  The 21st marks the shortest day of the year.  Here in Seymour the sun rose at 7:27 am and set at 4:16 pm. meaning we had 8 hours and 49 minutes of daylight.  If it were true daylight it would not be so bad, but our winter days are often cloudy and gray if not filled with snowstorms. Add to that the cold that keeps us inside and not out exercising.  

Not much changes through December.  We will gain only four minutes of daylight in this month.  January is better. By January 31 we will have another hour of sunshine.

This year, I will gain some time outside by heading south and doing a small tour in Mississippi, with a possible foray into Alabama.  Today, I found more work so the trip is a go.  I will drive down to Dixon, Illinois first to spend time with Gary before going south.  It is my plan to camp in some of the national forests if the weather permits.  By keeping housing costs down, the trip is affordable plus I really do like camping.  I am working with the national forest service to select my campgrounds.

There will an extra hour of sunlight in Mississippi and more important, warmer weather. I've done these winter tours before and they do make the winter more livable.  When I return it will only be a little over forty days until spring.  That's do-able.

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Today, Bettyann Moore added "The Old Man", her latest short story to Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

I seem to have a bad affect on Betty and Wade Peterson, who both have been adding to our collection of depressing Christmas tales.  By next December we expect to have another collection of short stories.

I also am well on my way to re-publishing Yesterday's Secrets, Tomorrow's Promises, a romance novel I originally published as an e-book at Amazon.com under another name.  Unfortunately, I made some errors, and I want to correct them.  I hope to have that done by mid-January and then make it a paperback.

The Storm

The blizzard came exactly as predicted with around 10 inches of snow.  Next door neighbor Scott ran his snowblower down the sidewalk early in the morning, but then he had to go to work so for the rest of the day, the shoveling was up to me.  I did it carefully, doing ten to fifteen minutes of shoveling at a time to avoid back strain or a heart attack.  I was still shoveling at 5:00 pm when Scott was back.  It was a great relief because the city snow plows had closed in the driveway. That kind of wet snow is heavy and it is even heavier when compacted by the plows.  Scott quickly dealt with it and we agreed that I could call on him this winter while Gary is gone.

During the day, I vacillated on what to cook for my Solstice Party, since the roads were so bad. At one point in the afternoon, I was in despair, wondering if there would be any gathering at all, but I ate a couple of snickerdoodles with a cup of hot chocolate and all was right in my world again. How could I get upset when we will have a white Christmas after all?  I listened to music on the stereo all day and watched my little world turn magical.

In the end, I never made the scones, did little about vegetables, but did cook up ham and turkey on the theory that I could use them as leftovers and cook them up into something this next week.  Rascal was in heaven with good smells for him to enjoy all day.

It was a small gathering.  The Manzkes reported they wouldn't dig out until tomorrow.  The Greggs said the same. The Green Bay and Appleton folks I warned off. So can you believe that Doris drove all the way from DePere anyhow?  Colette and Elaine were there, too, and that made four of us.  We talked for hours.

Next year, another attempt at a Solstice Party...unless I cave and do an Equinox Party instead.   

Snickerdoodles

The blizzard warnings are dire. The Seymour school district almost never has snow days, but the they have already cancelled schools for tomorrow and it hasn't even began to snow yet.

I am moving ahead with tomorrow night's Solstice party whether anyone comes or not. There is sure to be someone who shows up.  We've been through ice storms, flu seasons, and heavy rains.  Someone always comes anyhow.

It's no big deal for me to get ready since our little family will be celebrating on Monday night. Today I got groceries including a nice sized ham.  I've defrosted a turkey breast. The ham will be baked in the morning and sliced by tomorrow night.  The turkey will be roasted and ready by 6:00 pm. The leftover turkey will go into turkey soup.  Leftover ham will be used for scalloped potatoes, potato soup and bean soup.

Tonight I boiled eggs so I can make deviled eggs at a moment's notice.  I have the table ready.

But the biggest decision was making the snickerdoodles.  They are just about the best cookies ever.  When I got out the ingredients this afternoon, I remembered that I used the last cream of tartar last Christmas. Was that a sign that I should not make cookies?  It's no way to lose weight.  Was the blizzard a sign that snickerdoodles should not be in the picture?

I expressed my doubts on Facebook, but my friends (especially the women) told me to go to the supermarket right away and get that cream of tartar. Gary told me to pray for strength and stay at home.

I made four dozen snickerdoodles.  

Well Laid Plans

Over a month ago, I began inviting friends to my yearly party, the One Size Fits All Winter Solstice Sing for Your Supper Party and Precursor to the Mayan End of the World. The date was set for December 20th, or this coming Thursday.  A good sized contingent sent acceptances.  It looked to be a lively party.  I cleaned and decorated the house and made out a menu.

So much for plans. A blizzard is likely to deposit 8-12 inches of snow starting Wednesday night.  Now the problem is...do I cancel?  Many of the people live here in Seymour.  Then there are some who will show up no matter what the weather.  And maybe the storm won't be as bad as forecast, or will be over by say, noon, giving the highway department a chance to clear the roads.  And to tell the truth, I can't remember everyone I invited so I can't exactly cancel.

After thinking it over, I decided on a new menu, a sort of cook it as they come series of courses. There will be appetizers at 6:00, turkey breast and trimmings later on. Turkey breast is a good leftover. Next, if necessary, there will be a ham if needed. I bought the ham for Christmas Eve but I can always get another.
There will be popcorn, caramel corn, peanuts, cookies and candy.  There's plenty of stuff in the refrigerator and freezer, things like frozen pizza, stir fries, vegetable soup.

The Sing for Your Supper part of the invitation states that the attendees much perform, be it music, a story, a piece of art.  Those who opt out of that can bring food instead.  That usually means something like fruit, vegetables, or chips.  So there should be enough food.

If it is indeed a really bad blizzard and no one comes, I'll have plenty of food on hand for the holidays.  On Christmas Eve, Chris, Tisha and Evan will be here.  On Christmas Day I will drive to Dixon, Illinois to Gary in his farmhouse.  I'll have a big cooler of leftovers for him.

Unless, of course, the Mayans were right.  Then I have no problem at all.

Frustration

Back in January 2011, I self-published an e-book, Yesterday's Secrets, Tomorrow's Promises, a romance so trashy I published it under a nom de plume.  It took me a week of frustration and tinkering before I got the thing done and even then it was filled with typographical errors and one big error in logic.  It was my first experiment in self-publishing and I never got around to fixing the problems.

I thought I would do that this week and get the e-book in good order then publish a paperback version in time for Valentine's Day. As usual, there is a help desk that you can e-mail but the chance of getting an any useful information is zero.  I even wrote a snail mail some time ago, but no answer there either. Telephones?  They don't exist.

I found a set of instructions and set to work. First on the list was to go to my account but somewhere along the line, Amazon.com and I lost track of each other. I haven't gotten a report of any sales in a year and I can't access my files. I spent two hours this morning trying everything to do so and got nowhere. I have yet to get to the files.

When Wade and I published Black Coffee Fiction, he did all the publishing work because he is much better on computers than I am. Even he got frustrated.  He told me he took to screaming at the computer screen!  That is exactly what I did when I published the romance.  I decided I would try to do this book on my own.  Screaming has already become part of the process.

I'll give it another try tomorrow, but if after a week I haven't repaired the e-book, I will forget about it and just publish the paperback.  The instructions for that look a little easier.

Concerts

On New Year's Day, PBS always broadcasts a concert of waltzes by the Vienna Philharmonic. Years ago, it was hosted by Walter Cronkite and lately by Alec Baldwin.

This year it will be more meaningful to me because I will be there...at least in my imagination.

I've been walking on a map for decades now, marking the miles I walk each week on maps.  I began in Seymour, headed west and kept on going.  My trek has taken me south to Texas, west to California, up to Alaska, across the Bering Strait to Siberia and all across Russia into Europe.  As of today, I have 29 miles to walk to reach the center of Vienna.

If I average a mere two miles a day, figuring breaks for holidays and bad weather, I should arrive in Vienna in time to enjoy the concert. I call that timing.
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A Seymourite informed me that people are angry with me this year, but assured me that he was defending me.  My great crime?  The lack of a Christmas concert this year.

For over twenty years, I worked on an ecumenical Christmas concert with around 100 singers.  I began working on it in August all the way through the concert and beyond.  I was the chair, the publicist, the stage manager and the treasurer.  We gave wonderful concerts and gave thousands of dollars to our local nursing home.

In time, we aged, dwindled and finally called it quits. At that point, I revived the United Methodist Concert and that went on for a few more years. In May I quit as choir director and that was that. No concert in Seymour this year.

What bothers me is that after thirty years of volunteer work, I am getting not thank-yous, but blame for not continuing to work on all the projects from tree planting to putting up posters. I am 68 and intend to finish my life as a writer.

The way I see it, if the community needs that a concert, someone else should step up and take over the task.

Bread, Books and Enchildads

We were about to run out of bread so I decided I had better bake some. I had already started when Gary woke up and asked if I would like to go out for breakfast.  Sorry, I said, I'd already eaten, besides I had that bread to contend with.  "Go ahead," I told him and off he went to Kary's Restaurant out on Highway 54.   

I finished the bread off and went to work on another writing project.  I have so much to do before the end of the year if I want to meet my 2012 goals. 

This afternoon we held our local writers' book signing at Sissy's.  We enjoyed our customers and each other, ate desserts and had tea and coffee.  In the photo, two customers talk to Colette Bezio, Wade Peterson and Susan Manzke.  Janice Kaat had to work late so wasn't in the photo. She came in later.

In the end we all sold some books and went home with money in our pockets. In addition, another customer came in and asked us if we would like to do another book signing in August. It will be held here in Seymour, so we agreed.  By then I expect to have two other books to sell.

Chris, Tisha and Evan came to the signing, too.  I had already given Tisha her book but she wanted Wade and I to sign it.  While she was at it, she bought Colette's book for Evan.

Afterwards, Gary joined us for a second round of eating at Kary's Restaurant.  Kary's family are Mexican-Americans so even though the menu includes American cuisine, I always order from the Mexican page and am well pleased.

It was a day of literature and food.  What could be better?

Of Cats and Christmas

Gary is home for a few days but is concerned about his Aunt Shirley's cats, Mommy and Lily.  They are farm  cats who live in the chicken coop, but in the short while he has been staying on that Illinois farm he has become fond of them.  Lily is not all that friendly but Mommy warmed to Gary right away.

So, to come here for a few days, Gary talked his sister and his niece into taking his place.  They will visit Aunt Shirley in the nursing home, continue to clear some of the years of "collecting" from the house, and give the two cats some attention.  On Monday, Gary will go back and resume his duties.

How do these cats train us?  Rascal is certainly in charge in this house.  He decides what time I have to get up since the whole point of my rising from bed is to give him his breakfast. This is followed by his hairball medicine which he expects daily. He also has to have a treat for lunch and at night he has to have a share of whatever I am having for dinner.  Tonight it was fish.

Around nine in the evening he begins to tell me that it is time for me to go to bed because he wants to go upstairs with me to snuggle.

This morning he was being particularly bossy, meowing a plaintive half-Siamese yowl over and over while I was trying to write a short story for Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com There soon was a cat in the story, a half-Siamese cat who made a nuisance of himself on Christmas morning.

As Rascal kept bothering me, I became more and more irritated.  Writing is difficult enough without that constant MEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWW.  Finally, I locked him out of the office but I could still hear a distant meeeeoooowwwww through the door.

When I get angry with someone I often put them into one of my stories....and kill them off.  It's all fiction, but it can be so satisfying.  I was now angry with Rascal so it was inevitable that the cat in the story came to a bad end.

If you want to find out what I did to that cat, read "A Perfect Christmas" at Black Coffee Fiction.  It's one of a series of depressing Christmas stories for people who hate the holidays.  By next winter I'll have enough for a book.

Keep in mind that I actually love Christmas...and Rascal is still alive.  

Use By Soup

As the year winds down, I take inventory of my goals, my projects, my life, but also of my kitchen cupboards. I check the expiration dates.  In a very few cases, there are things that must be thrown out, but there are also some things that need to be used up very soon.

Today, I made what I call "Use By Soup". In the cupboard were the following:
one can of chili
two cans of cream of mushroom soup (bought to make a sauce, I think)
one can of tomato soup
one can of diced tomatoes
one can of sliced potatoes (canned potatoes comes in handy on camping trips)
one can of mustard greens (why those were there I have no idea)
one can of green beans
one can of creamed corn (I figured its sweetness would balance the bitterness of the mustard greens)

What they all had in common was that the expiration dates had just passed or were about to.

Into the big soup pan they went.  I added onions and okra from my garden, the very last bit of cabbage from the farmers market, some carrots and celery close to going bad, some garlic cloves, and one potato I found at the bottom of the bin. I threw in some herbs, including farmers market basil that I had dried.

The soup simmered all day and tonight I had it for supper and deemed it incredibly good. I doubt that I will ever replicate it.  Twelve individual containers are now in the freezer, good nourishing food made from things that I could have thrown away.

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Tonight there is supposed to be a meteor shower, so I went for a walk, but with all of Seymour's lights I couldn't see any shooting stars.  Instead, I wandered around town looking at the holiday displays until I got to the Seymour museum and the memorial trees.  Families donate and decorate trees in memory of those who have gone before.  Most are for parents but sadly one or two are for the children who died too young.  It is a forest of trees, much nicer than a cemetery, I thought. Every year there are more. All of Depot Street is awash in Christmas lights. I take visitors over to see them during the holiday season.

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Wade e-mailed the good news that we have earned our first royalties from our Black Coffee Fiction e-book. My share isn't much, no more than three ice cream cones at Sissy's, but it is only the first. Next month's royalties will include the print version as well.  These small monthly checks will be welcome.

We will be signing books on Saturday at Sissy's on North Main Street in Seymour from 3-5 pm but anyone can order the book from Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Black-Coffee-Fiction-Stories-Volume/dp/1480131571