Friday, June 18, 2010

Reading List #20... and other stuff

I enjoyed The Overton Window by Glenn Beck. Many of the facts, I already knew. My first reaction when I first started reading was that our country is reflecting a highly dysfunctional family. The abusers (federal government) aren't even trying to hide that they are victimizing us (the People), trashing the Constitution left and right, hurting us, telling us it's the best for us and if we don't agree then we'll be in trouble because everything they do is for us, for our own good. They shout it and repeat it, over and over and over, as if repetition will somehow make all that's horribly wrong right. If we protest the "beatings", then we're the ones who are crazy, after all they only have our best interest in mind, while they grow wilder and more out of control, drunk on the power they wield. That was really unsettling. There were things that Mr. Beck I'm sure viewed as fictional, but growing up with a pedophile down the street, I knew it wasn't. In fact, he kept it quite tame. I appreciated that Mr. Beck never took us into the mind of the villain but revealed the evil as speeches or observations from characters with whom I felt reasonably safe. Thank you! There were twists and turns and, yes, I had to skip to the end, about half way through, to make sure it would end okay. Not what I expected, or more aptly, not my usual choice, but okay. What did I take away from the reading? First, I cannot read all the great books out there. I must pick and choose. My romance novels are a given, but they're also easy for me. History books are much more difficult for me to read, and that's alright. I take longer, in part, because the vocabulary is usually different from what I use every day, and being dyslexic means the familiar patterns aren't there. With no particular pattern, I find myself stopping to think about what I've read, little by little. So, I will allow myself to pick and choose my heavy reading and not worry that it takes me a long time to work through the pages. Second, I don't have much influence on a grand scale. In fact, it's probably zilch. That being said, simply because I cannot influence things on a grand scale does not mean I am allowed to slide. I've confessed before that I learned to lie, really, really, really well, so well that I didn't even realize I did it. I've been quite proud of myself that I've been learning not to do that. What I've come to realize is that simply learning not to lie is not enough. I must search my heart for what is true. I need to learn what values I hold important in my life. I've come to realize that there are values I'd like to have, but I don't really know what they mean. So, the Quest begins, to learn about values and principles and how to make them a part of myself, interwoven so tightly that they are an intricate part of who I am. My past is no longer an excuse. It has brought me to this point... It's time to turn a stumbling block into a stepping stone. If I were arrested for being what I am would I be able to explain it to anyone? Especially myself?

Flashpoint was the next in Stephanie Newton's Emerald Coast 911. I really enjoy her books and look forward to each one. This time she skillfully tackled bipolar disease and drug addiction. I love her hero/heroine, both spoke to my heart.

I've finished the main body of The Five Thousand Year Leap but have yet to read the appendices and extra material.

Odd bits: Baking soda only lasts about six months, which means baking powder only lasts about six months, seeing as baking powder is simply 1 part soda and 2 parts cream of tarter. Cream of tarter, according to kitchesavvy.com, if stored in a tight container in a dry, room temperature place, will last indefinitely. Good to know. I replace my baking soda regularly and make my own baking powder. Yahoo had an entire article about 40 ways baking soda could be used. I washed my hair brushes, put it in my cloth shoes, and even used it for washing my feet. Nice.

I'm endeavoring to use what I have in my freezers. Some things have been there longer than I'm willing to confess. I'm almost through all my Schwan's stuff. May I say, I am so glad I've placed an order that will be arriving soon! So many yummy things that I would never make for myself simply because some of the ingredients aren't ones I'd necessary be able to lay hands on, like the mushroom, pasta and chicken dish with truffles! Delish! Then there is my aversion to handling raw meat. I'm willing to take it out of the package and put it in the pan or microwave, but that's about it. Not quite sure how that fully evolved, considering the fact that I used to cut up the chicken we had for dinner, all through high school... I think maybe it started after my mission to Thailand... I was so grateful for a maid who bought the groceries and cooked the meals. I can still smell the meat section of the open market... Yep, that was probably it. Mystery solved.

5 comments:

  1. Ah, your talk of the meat market brings back "fond" memories of buying live chickens and having them prepared for me in the dirtiest, most smelly alley imaginable in Pakistan. But it was worth it, because they took the skin off for me and then I didn't have to! I also have a thing about raw meat, though, left over from living overseas -- in the back of my mind there's always this thought of raw meat juice being akin to poison, since we were always extra careful about being sure meat was cooked because it was handled in unclean conditions!

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  2. Always nice to solve a mystery. I like running baking soda down the sink. It helps the drain smell fresh.

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  3. Thank, Margaret! So good to know it isn't only me! :-)

    Flutterby, I've learned to wash the sink with the baking soda first. It's the Scottish blood in my veins, I'm sure. :-D

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  4. A market in Thailand while you were on a mission. Oh the stories I'm sure you have to tell. I'm intrigued. :)

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  5. Hi, Deena! Be careful what you ask for; I may never shut up. :-)

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Brain Dump

Rule #1: Stop lying, especially to yourself. Before baby became a word, the term was fetus, in Latin. Fetus = Baby It's a baby.