New Month’s Resolutions

Given I was busy at New Year and didn’t really think about what I wanted to achieve (other than getting packed for the early ferry the next day), I thought I’d try doing it monthly instead:

So for the month of February, I resolve:

  1. To post on my blog weekly (perhaps even more sometimes!)
  2. To find my desk (probably recurring)
  3. To sort through my old papers and make space in my filing cabinet (for all the new papers waiting to become old)
  4. To practice dance at least weekly
  5. To not spend all day on Facebook (nor even half of each day!  Not that I have yet, but danger lurks at every mouse click – and I only joined today!)
  6. To keep up with those sustainability resolutions I made earlier (so far, so good.  No money to spend anyway and I did have a Trade Aid Christmas – for my friends anyway, my kids just want Lego!)

Patriarchy reversed

I was gobsmacked by the strength of the imagery in the excerpt below, which is a response to someone suggesting that feminist writing is a far greater danger to men than the Western patriarchical establishment is to women.  I defy anyone to intelligently argue against feminism after reading this (Please note: I wrote “intelligently argue”.  Thank you.)

BTW This excerpt is part of a longer dialogue at  ‘A Radical Pro-Feminist‘.  Please check out the full post – and the rest of the site.

So, let’s say we reverse this, OK? Let’s say about two dozen men write that at least since capitalism began, and even before that, women have believed they are superior to men, and have behaved as it they are, naturally and because a female God says so. And for a long time all laws were written only by women. And for centuries judges were all women. And for centuries politicians were all women.  And women did and still do health studies only based on populations of women, and assume the results will apply to men too. And women teach women’s history as the only history. And women teach children that only women are heroes, and great thinkers, and great people. And make God into a woman only. And don’t allow men to be priests, because they aren’t in the image of God. And all the stories in the Bible were written by women, and any stories that had been written by men or that talked about men as being just as close to God as women are, were thrown out because at the time the book was being put together, men actually did have some power and women wanted to put an end to that. So they made all the stories about women, and pretended men never did anything spiritually miraculous and amazing.

And also in that forty years, with women in charge of governments and police forces, legal institutions and educational systems, with women in charge of media, advertising, and “adult entertainment”, hundreds, not dozens, make and distribute material that makes men seem like they are dirty, and need to be or want to be degraded and raped. And they have many billions of dollars to spend on doing this, and these sorts of images and themes find their way into advertisements and TV shows, like CSI: every week a woman has murdered another man in some gruesome way, and the grim, gross details are shown, and people enjoy this, they watch it and like it–it’s entertaining.

And women consume the pornography and like it and find it entertaining. Which would you be more concerned about: men having written some books, or women having control of every major institution and also producing material that said “men exist to be degraded and raped”? And, away from media and the public spotlight, women are beating the shit out of men in their homes, and are raping men in their homes, crawling into windows at night and raping elderly men, taking boys off the street, pulling them into cars, and raping and killing those boys. Women teaching boys how to have sex with women who pay for the opportunity to do so. Walking into a college and shooting fourteen male students, because they are male. All that is happening or has happened, for centuries. Making men “disappear”, often one woman making many men disappear over a few years or a few months.

Apologies

for the recent lack of new postings.

A combination of school holidays, Christmas with children, tummy bugs, a nasty cough, lack of brain power given the aforementioned and any other number of excuses (you may request favourites – although I only have a cat, not a dog, and he much prefers eating chicken to computers/homework!).

The situation is unlikely to change for a couple more weeks as I will be out of town.

However, school starts again in February – so this blog’s time will come!

In the meantime, many thanks for reading, and I hope the New Year brings you much joy.

Of weather and washing

If it is sunny when I do my laundry, it starts raining after it is hung on the line, yet if it is wet in the morning and I put the laundry in the dryer, the weather clears.  (Don’t ask what happens if I bring it, then hang it back out again.  That was not a good day and I’m not trying again.)

How can the laundry of one mortal have such control over the weather?  It doesn’t seem right.

And, as the mortal whose laundry apparently controls the local weather, does this mean I am in some way responsible for the weather and its results?  In which case, I am thankful that the area controlled does seem to be strictly limited – I’m sorry, I can do nothing to fix your drought or flood (unless, perhaps, I bring my laundry for a visit).

What about the days when I don’t do laundry?  How does the weather decide what to do then?

Or perhaps I should stop worrying about it and go eat my lunch before hunger makes my brain work even more strangely?

Coming next week: “My washing basket runneth over”, an allegorical interpretation of laundry folding.

Parenting books and spirited kids

I’ve just started reading a parenting book I found in my local library.

Now, normally I avoid parenting books like the plague – because they a) tend to make me feel inadequate and b) never quite seem to cover what I want to learn.  This is one I’ve picked up and glanced at several times over the last few months/years before actually bringing it home.

It’s called “Raising your spirited child” by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka (the 2006 revised edition).

So, why did I get it out this time and why am I now blogging about it?

Well, I got it out because one of my boys fits the author’s definiton of ’spirited’ quite well.  He sometimes gets referred to as “Mr Bounce” for good reason – he is full of life, energy and volume, which is not always easy to live with (especially for his quiet, energy-conserving brother).  I figured that this book might give me a few clues on how to parent him towards functioning adulthood without squashing him.

I am blogging about it because what I didn’t expect was that this book would give me insight into myself and my own (previously unrecognised by me – though probably not by my family!) spiritedness – my need to move, my need to stretch, my need for quiet time to myself, my need for nice texture, and so on – which I have endeavoured over the years to squash to try and fit social norms of acceptable grown-up behaviour (trust me when I say that it has still leaked out round the edges!  I mean “belly dancing shaman” should’ve given the game away at least a bit – right?!).  I’m not sure why I have done this, except that I’ve always valued blending in.  Again, I don’t know why, except that it can be a form of self-protection.  (More introspection may be forthcoming in future posts)

So, now I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the book so I can find out how to better parent myself as well as my son.  I’ve already figured out a few useful things and I’ve still got 300 pages to go!

Caution: slightly warped humour ahead

Apologies for the lack of recent posting, but last week accidentally disappeared in a haze of Girl Genius reading.  Having never come across this comic/graphic novel before, I was rapidly hooked – but my time management did rather suffer from reading from the start (back in 2002!).  I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that I’m up to date now; but at least that’s one less online distraction.  Hopefully ‘normal’ blog posting schedules will resume shortly – just in time for the Christmas break and the school summer holidays!

For those of you on dial-up, the pages are slowly loading graphics, so you might want to check out the hard copies.  Our local library actually has it in their Young Adults section (yay!).  And here’s a taster of one of my favourite pages (not part of the main story):

And having admitted to this particular comic obsession, I may as well provide links to some of my other favourites (in no particular order):

Get Fuzzy

Over the Hedge (this is what the movie was based on – the strip is better!)

Non Sequitur

Rabbit and Bear Paws (Native American strip)

Madam and Eve (South African strip)

Pearls Before Swine

Cross Hare

The Wrong Hero

Please admit/supply your own contributions  in the comments.

Sustainable resolutions update

With Christmas only a few weeks a way, it seemed like a good time to reflect on my sustainable living resolutions (see this post).

Thanks to my children’s school having a topic of ’seeds and plants’ this term, the vege patch is growing well (both in overall size and actual living plants!).  Part of our kitchen has been turned into a seed nursery – which does allow for easy monitoring and watering (which might otherwise be too haphazard for success).  Thanks to a spirit of curiosity, we’ve sprouted quite a variety of seeds.  I’ve just planted out some lentils, some unknown bean or pea seedlings and the baby tomatoes that grew from the seeds my son squirted onto his sweatshirt!  Waste not, want not!  We may actually grow some stuff from packets at some point, too.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do with all the apple and pear seedlings, but I guess I’ll think of something (bonsai, perhaps?).  Now we all have to do is to remember to harvest…

A sort-out in the airing cupboard found me some more sheets for the kids, so I’m off the hook for now.  It is truly amazing what you find buried in airing cupboards!  Well, what I found anyway.  No Saxon gold, though.  Which is probably just as well – given I live in New Zealand and the house wasn’t built until the 1970s.  Although we did find Assyrian wallpaper…


Not buying stuff unless I need it is actually going quite well, though mostly because I just don’t have spare money.  My op-shop habit is coming to the fore for finding interesting or adaptable clothes.  I’ve also discovered the delights of online auctions!   I’m afraid some of my money is still going to the sweatshops, mainly because I can’t afford expensive jeans and T-shirts.  Fortunately, my wardrobe is fairly well stocked, which means I’m working on replacement rather than expansion.  Any expansion is coming from second-hand or homemade things (though if I could afford to buy from Clockwork Couture that might change – for a little while).  I am going to have to spend some money on fabric and bits for my dance costumes, too – just to make my stash go the distance (those skirts are full!)

I did buy some beads, but I’m going to try and keep it to an annual thing.  Some stuff I just can’t buy made up – and I do enjoy stringing.

I haven’t really bought any yarn in recent months (okay, a couple of balls to pad out the kids blankets, but that’s it – although I had gone a little bit mad mid-winter, which I’m still knitting up).  I’m using up what I’ve already got – and planning what I want to save for.  One advantage of not having much money is that it does force you to prioritise and plan (whimper).

New resolutions:

  • I’m determined to only place orders with overseas websites at most once a year per site.  We’ll see how that one goes.  Planning, saving and delayed gratification are not my strongest skills, but they’re not my weakest either, so…we’ll see.
  • I’m trying to arrange to start doing some voluntary work next year – partly to gain work experience in areas I’m interested in and partly to give something back to my community.
  • For Christmas, I’ve decided to do the vast bulk of my shopping at my local Trade Aid shop.  I bought a whole heap of jewellery for myself there earlier this year (blame the dancing!), so I will ’share the joy’.   I like giving presents, so while I like the idea of things like Oxfam Unwrapped, this year is going to be a Fair Trade Christmas, as much as possible.

New dinosaur species!

As you may have noticed, dear reader, I do get rather excited about dinosaur stuff.  This dates back to childhood, when my imaginary friends were a Stegosaurus that lived in the garden and a T. Rex that lived behind the toilet door (sorry, Mum, that’s why I wouldn’t close it – some friends you don’t want escaping!).  My golden book of dinosaurs was well-thumbed and the pictures memorised.  I have no idea why this is/was – but at some deep level I find dinosaurs intrinsically interesting and just plain ‘cool’.  And you get to use lots of long words…

These days I mostly ‘do’ dinosaurs vicariously through my children (I thoroughly recommend Giles Andreae’s “Captain Flinn and the Pirate Dinosaurs” series of picture books – great fun to read and loved by kids of all ages), except when the odd tidbit appears in the grown-up news.  So I got very excited today when I read this: palaeontologists have discovered a whole new dinosaur species!  (In fact, I got so excited I wrote a blog post when I should be preparing dinner)  And they think there may be more!!  I’m in dinosaur heaven.

I know that there’s plenty of upsetting stuff happening in the world as I write, and at times it seems shallow to be interested in something so “un-useful” as dinosaurs.  But I still find it exciting that we still have stuff to learn stuff about this world.  So rather than beating myself up over my interest, I’m instead going to spend my time memorising how to pronounce “Aardonyx celestae” (which is actually fairly straightforward as dinosaur names go, so I guess we will have a  dinner to eat tonight.  Though it does have a nice piratical ring – “Arr”)

A perspective on ’stuff’

A quote from environmental activist, Dana Meadows:

I brought these books into the house, every one made of ground-up trees.  I read them, yes, and loved them, but I have easy access to three good libraries.  I didn’t need to house a library of my own.  I piled up these books because I am impatient; I want to look up a quote or a fact instantly.  Because I fend off worries by escaping, and books are my escape mechanism….  The books are an expensive, troublesome, heavy, space-occupying fortress against having to confront my inner bugaboos.  I guess that’s also true of…the closets full of rarely worn clothes.  Stuff taken from the earth to bolster fantasy or foist off fear, stuff our non-affluent household paid a fortune for, stuff I’ve housed for decades, stuff that occupied the space of real life.

Picture all that stuff wrested from the mines and forests and soils of the earth, and finally, unceremoniously, dumped….  The price we’re paying for our stuff – in money and time and space and resources – is tremendous.

I could wish I’d written it myself, but mostly, I’m extremely grateful I have read it.  As an earth/Great Mother-honouring pagan and member of our Western consumerist society, this has got to be one of the best, and most accurate, gut-punching wake-up calls I’ve come across.  Especially that last paragraph.

Now to remember it in my daily life…

Losing my voice

I have lost my voice.

Yesterday morning I woke up and it wasn’t there.  Just a hoarse, painful whisper left in its place.

Given I’m a relatively orderly person, I must presume that its absence is the result of this viral infection my body is currently fighting rather than some absentmindedness on my part.

And I miss it.

And yet, I have only lost my voice temporarily and physically.  It will return in a few days – and in the meantime, I can write emails and blog posts and whisper to my family.  And I find myself wondering what it must be like for those who do not have a voice to start with – the poor, the oppressed, the young – and those whose voice has been taken from them – the tortured, the beaten, the abused, the murdered.

From my place of privilege, I cannot imagine what it must be like to live a non-privileged, indeed a forgotten, life.  While I may be ill right now, I still have access to affordable healthcare, clean water to drink, the internet to keep me amused – which means I have both electricity and literacy – a house large enough to pace around, books I can read, a husband who cares for me and is willing to share the household load, and (despite their protestations) my children are not actually starving because I am sick.

Perhaps I should stop reading social anthropology texts while I am ill?  (In this instance, Paul Farmer’s Pathologies of Power)

Or perhaps I should, while enjoying and appreciating my privileged life, do my utmost to ensure that my privilege does not come at the price of someone else’s voice.

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