The Greatest Show On Earth

Well, not exactly. That would be Barnum & Bailey, wouldn't it, as opposed to Carson & Barnes, which is what showed up here on the edge of town this morning.

Carson & Barnes, the last of the *real* circuses. The ones that play in tents. Wow! And this isn't just any tent. Nosirree!!! This tent is going to be set up by elephants. And, the public is invited to watch! So, early(ish) in the morning, C and her kidlets came over, and we set off to see the circus.

When we got there, a flatbed trailer sat out in the big middle of the field, waiting for its cargo to unfold into The Big Top. The elephants were lounging around, while a herd of circus men brought them wheelbarrow loads of hay, dusted them off, gave them pedicures, and basically waited on them hand and foot, so we judged we were in plenty of time. No hurries in this camp. We stood around awhile, thoroughly enjoying the elephants, but, I confess, beginning to worry a bit about getting this show on the road, so to speak.

Suddenly...worry no more! Hearing shouts and other assorted noises coming from the direction of the tent, we turned to see a multitude of men, harnessed to various belts and pulleys and all sorts of contraptions, d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g one section of the tent from the trailer over to the edge of a circle of stakes that had been set up around it. All I could think of was the massive backache these guys were going to have by lunchtime.

While we were waiting for the elephants to get in gear, we happened to run into Amanda, the Lady in Charge of the Circus. She looked like she might have been all of 18 or 19 years old (though I must admit pretty much everybody is starting to look like a teenager to me anymore), but in our conversation with her we learned, among other things, that she had a Master's degree, one which cost her parents $20,000 a year, and which apparently qualified her to ride elephants in the circus, dressed in sequins and feathers. Whatever.

She explained the workings of the circus to us:

• It plays 300 days in a year. In a row. Without even one day off.
• They set up early in the morning on the day of the show, and knock everything down immediately following the show that night.
  
• To be in the circus, one must truly be a Jack-of-all-Trades. Everyone has a job "before the show, during the show, and after the show."
• The truck drivers are the animal trainers are the tent setter-uppers are the acrobats.
• Sleep is an unheard-of luxury, limited to the time between 1-2 am, after everything is packed up and road-ready, and 5am or so, when it is time to hit the road. She didn't offer any information on when they might possibly squeeze in time for a shower or a meal.
• Outside of that abbreviated night, the "downtime" in circus life is from 2-3 pm, when everyone is allowed a one-hour nap, for a grand total of 3-5 hours of sleep a day/night, 300 days in a row...something you might want to keep in mind if you ever find yourself sharing the road with a circus caravan. It might be in your best interest to give them the road.

The relevant information we learned from Amanda, however, was that there would be no elephants helping set up the tent today. Or any other day for that matter. You see, the circus no longer employs elephants to do any work, thanks to the Animal Rights people who have intervened on their behalf.

I glanced over at the men's Herculean efforts to whip that tent into shape and wondered where the Human Rights people were. No word from them evidently.

Nothing from the Green Rights people either, even though by now several petroleum-burning, emission-spewing tractors and bulldozers had been called in to do what an elephant could have done effortlessly and fossil-fuel free. Elephants fart, though, so perhaps it's a trade-off in that respect.

Well, that was the circus. We entertained a vague notion of going to the show this afternoon, but showtime came and went, and no sign of Monga home from work. It's probably just as well, for me, anyway. I'm sure the kidlets would have enjoyed it; I have fond memories of the 1-2 times I went to the circus as a kid myself, but I'm thinking that as an adult, especially after the rude, politically-correct disillusions of this morning, I'm probably better off with my memories. Reality never quite measures up to the Good Old Days.

And just think... "These days" are someday going to be somebody's Good Old Days. Imagine that.

Conservative? Or Liberal?

Just in case you might be wondering, this is how you can tell a conservative from a liberal:

• If a conservative doesn't like guns, he doesn't own one; if a liberal doesn't like guns, he doesn't want anyone to have one.
• If a conservative is a vegetarian, he doesn't eat meat; if a liberal is a vegetarian, he wants to ban all meat products for everyone.
• If a conservative sees a threat, he thinks about how to defeat it; if a liberal sees a threat, he thinks about how to surrender and still look good.
• If a conservative is a black or a Hispanic man, he sees himself as independent and successful; if a liberal is a black or a Hispanic man, he sees himself as a victim in need of government protection.
• If a conservative is down-and-out, he tries to improve his situation; if a liberal is down-and-out, he tries to find someone to take care of him.
• If a conservative doesn't like a talk show host, he changes the channel; if a liberal doesn't like a talk show host, he demands that the channel be shut down.
• If a conservative is a non-believer, he doesn't go to church; if a liberal is a non-believer, he demands that all churches be closed.
• If a conservative needs some $, he goes to work; if a liberal needs some $, he puts his hand out and waits for *someone* to put some $ in it.
  
• If a conservative needs health care, he shops for it, or he looks for a job that provides it; if a liberal needs health care, he expects his neighbors to pay for it.

And isn't it interesting that a conservative is proud to be called a conservative, but a liberal is *offended* to be labeled a liberal.

So...Any questions?

The Thing About Moms...

...is that once you are the mom, you are never not the mom.

It doesn't matter that your kidlets are grown up:

• C is a competent, capable SAHM with four little kidlets of her own;
• While I once patrolled the halls at night checking on all the kidlets sleeping safely in their little beds, now S, a police officer, is on the prowl out there making the world safe for me to sleep in;
• D, mom of two, is halfway acroxx the country in Kansas of all places, making the most of what comes and the least of what goes;
  
• And halfway acroxx the country in another direction, M is becoming a soldier who will have my back on another front.

That's it. They're all grown up. They are adults. They are all responsible, contributing citizens. And they are still my kidlets. I am still the mom. They still check in. We communicate. We visit, we txt, we email, we fb, we im, we talk on the phone.

And it was while I wandered around the house last night, talking on my cordless phone to one of the dd's, that I had my latest epiphany: Phones may have become cordless, but mothers never will.

Awesome Autumn!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

The air is crisp and snappy this morning. The sky is clear and brilliant beyond blue. I'm not a big fan of the sun, but the sunshine this morning is positively inspiring. It's not the heavy sun of summer. It is thin and airy and yellow and it promises a perfect day. A perfectly warm day. Not one of those hot summer days. This day is going to be perfectly pleasant! Warm enough ~and cool enough ~ to sit outside on the swing and enjoy it. No bugs buzzing around. No sweat running down my skin inside my clothes.

Today makes me want to DO!!! Forget about spring cleaning. Something about spring cleaning, besides the work factor, just doesn't appeal to me. But fall cleaning...that's a whole 'nother thing. Mow the yard one last time; put the outside things in the shed; winterize the cars; get out the winter clothes; harvest the last of the summer garden; plan holiday family times. Close down the work of this year and begin regrouping and preparing for the next one.

Well, not really. We don't live that way anymore, and it's our loss. But it's what we're wired for. To live by the calendar. To savor and enjoy every thing in its own turn. To take the time to make each thing special. Year-around, all-season living has taken something from us. We no longer recognize the uniqueness of any given thing. Something along the lines of "a feast every day is no feast."

Sure, it's great that anything that we want, we can have, any time we want it. Sorta. But it dulls our appreciation for the thing. It turns it into one more piece of clutter in a sea of too many choices.

So, I am for the simplicity of living for the day, one season at a time. And especially I am for simple living at this time of the year, when Nature gives her accounting and shows off her best.

What could be better than Fall? My deFinite Favorite!

At Home At Home

It has been raining for three days now. The grass is starting to look, uh, a little weedy and unkempt. But I'm not complaining. There can never be too much rain for me. Anyway, I figure we are starting to make up for what we missed this past season. With the year-long drought, we only had to mow two or three times all season, and now that it's raining and the grass is growing, well, summer is well on the way out. Pretty soon the grass will be in hibernation for the winter, so maybe this is all for the best.

Though the Man of the House has been down with a mini-version of the flu or something the last couple of days, he was all set to suit up and get back to work this morning; but dark and early, before we were even up, the phone rang. It was our first client, 25 miles away, with the weather report at her house: torrential rain. Shortly after that we had a call from our next client, 25 miles beyond the first one...same song, second verse.

I got the picture and decided to call and re-schedule the whole day's calendar, though I did wait an hour or two, until I thought they might be out of bed. It can be an exercise in insanity, trying to schedule clients in a way that maximizes time and gas usage; fortunately, everyone on today's business is flexibly retired, so it was easy to move the whole schedule, intact, to another day. Hopefully a dry day.

So my Man ends up at home, on his fourth day of leisure, our fourth day at home alone together. Wow, I don't know when might be the last time that has ever happened. "We" have lots to do:

• the usual household chores ~ never any vacation from those;
• pumpkin cookies to make ~ with only two of us here, the vast majority of those, enough to last all year, are going in the freezer;
• red chicken soup, an old family favorite, for lunch;
• radio talk shows and tv, of course;
• a week's worth of laundry to fold, and the once-a-month (or less) ironing;
• books to read;
  
• a constantly ringing phone to answer ~ weather like this suddenly makes everyone think about heating up the fireplace;
• oh, and tonight, NCIS! It is M's favorite show, the only one we watch with regularity, and we watch it with IM in place, the better to bond with M.
  

All in all, a great day to stay home.

O,Bummer!

I am in shock. Again. But not in a good way. In case I was harboring any doubt/hope that we are not rushing headlong to hell in a handbasket, on the express, today's news sharply disabused me of that notion.

President Obama. "Humbled" recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. Humbled??? What he should be is embarrassed.

Hmmm....What prestigious award could possibly be next? Surely there are accolades to come.

• Since he loves NCAA basketball, how about a national championship? Or an MVP?
• Perhaps a Motor Trend Car of the Year? He does know how to drive one.
• Maybe a Blue Ribbon from the Illinois State Fair? He is known to like pie.
• A Pulitzer for his books?
• Or the NASCAR Sprint Cup? No one turns left like President Obummer.

A peace prize for what he wants to do, not for what he's done. The Nobel Peace Prize is officially a joke.

An Army Of Our Own

Things tend to take on a life of their own.

So, I am moving my WP blogs over here.