Faculty, students want to ban prayer at college events

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I HAVEN'T HAD TIME to write up my notes to Monday’s SOCCCD board meeting, but I do have time for one or two quick items.

OBJECTIONS TO RELIGIOUS INVOCATIONS. Bob Cosgrove read a “resolution to ban religious invocations at college events,” passed by the Saddleback College Academic Senate (October 11). It has received the endorsement of the Irvine Valley College Academic Senate, the Faculty Association (i.e., the faculty union), and, I believe, the Associated Students of Saddleback College.

The nub of the problem with prayer, says the resolution, is that individuals have a right “to determine whether, how, when, and whom to worship” and that that right is “violated by the inclusion of a religious invocation in college events.”

As you know, legally, prayers before meetings are not permitted in the K-12 public schools, owing, I believe, to minors' impressionability. Public colleges, however, are a different matter.

The resolution “does not oppose the inclusion of a moment of silence….”

The resolution has been forwarded to the state Academic Senate. I’ve been told that the state senate is disposed to address this matter. If it takes action (probably in the form of yet another resolution), it will likely side with the Saddleback College Academic Senate resolution, more or less.

As I explained Monday night, John Williams suggested that the “invocation” question be put to the voters. Evidently, an “advisory vote” can be placed on the ballot. Williams explained that, in all but 1 of the last 14 years, invocations have been given at the start of meetings. Williams is an ardent non sequiturian. And so, having said that, he asked, “do we reflect the voters?”

The “advisory vote” idea seemed to fall stillborn from Williams' lips.


STADIUMS FOR THE COLLEGES? For some reason, Monday night, some trustees felt it necessary to advocate building new stadiums for the two colleges. While “we have basic aid” dollars, said Bill Jay, we “should pursue this.” John Williams agreed about the stadiums. So did Nancy Padberg. But why did they bring this up last night?

As I recall, in the past, Trustees Tom Fuentes and Don Wagner have expressed skepticism about building new stadiums. Maybe it was just Tom. Could be.

Dream a Little Dream

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REGULAR sleep patterns are finally restored and Rebel Girl has begun to dream again. Ahhh.

Dream #1: Get on the Bus!

Last night, Rebel Girl dreamt that the English department's recent proposal for Basic Skills money was funded—but with some changes. The committee decided that our meeting the needs of developmental writing students would be best met by the purchase of a tour bus. —And purchase a tour bus the committee did! It wasn't your ordinary tour bus, no: it was a replica of the Partridge Family bus. Driven by the enthusiastic English prof, K.M.—the bus also sported bunk beds and a full service kitchenette. No need to wait for the students to come to us. We will go to them!

Dream #2: Pancakes!
In this dream, Rebel Girl prepares for a colleague to visit her classroom. The colleague arrives as scheduled but instead of the usual composition classroom activity, Rebel Girl and her students are making pancakes. Rebel Girl cradles a large metal bowl filled with pancake batter and a helpful student is handing out spatulas as her colleague enters. Due to classroom shortages, Rebel Girl teaches this particular section of composition in a science lab (You know, you can teach writing anywhere!) and, that morning, she has decided to take advantage of the Bunsen burners to make pancakes.

The visiting colleague looks on with alarm.

Dream #3: When Androids Dream of Thesis Statements
As chair, Rebel Girl is supposed to visit the classrooms of part-time faculty and evaluate their performance. She doesn't do this nearly enough due to a number of factors including her own schedule and the measly 24 hours that are granted her each day. But, it seems that in her dreams, she has now begun to evaluate part-time faculty, which, even if she says so herself, is a fine use of dreamtime.

In this dream, Rebel Girl visits the classroom of a fairly new hire. The classroom is bright, the instructor energetic and challenging, the students engaged. All is well until mid-way through the session, Rebel Girl notices that the instructor is not a human, but instead a robot—or to be precise, an android. This moment occurs when the instructor bends over to pick up a board marker that has fallen to the floor; her long slit skirt falls open and Rebel Girl glimpses the gleaming hardware that is her leg. Suddenly all the other details she has noticed confirm the instructor's identity: the strangely glittering eyes, the oddly smooth pale skin, the steady, but slow pivots of her head, the synthetic quality of her dark helmet of hair.

Still, the android is a good teacher.

What is Rebel Girl to do? She wonders how she will explain to her colleagues in the department that she has hired a robot. She wonders what the contract has to say about this.

She wakes up.

Board meeting: weird photo rejects

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Mathur seems determined to go with the "Camelot" project (above).


I'M ONE OF THESE GUYS who buys a $1,200 camera and then never reads the instructions. So stuff goes wrong. Like, what's with the teeth on that one "Young American" in the back? Those are some choppers, man. ☝


☝ These guys are with ADM Works, a company with 28 employees that does advanced digital manufacturing. I sure liked the slide show of the big plastic monsters (green water-based goop is used) and mammoth propeller blades that they make. Way cool.

They said that they have a hard time hiring people with the right training, and so this project would take care of that for 'em. They'd start with maybe 20 students, using maybe 5 acres of ATEP. Students would get "hands on" experience, and ADM would get employees that know how to use CAD systems and such.

Maybe ADM Works will get a few scraps outa ATEP after Camelot rips into the place, taking what it wants. That looks like the scenario, at this point. KING GOO is definitely tilting that way.


☝ This is a creepy shot of some of those chirpy "Young Americans." Especially one, on the right.
☞ Here's Milt, the guy who founded the "Young Americans." Back in '62. A stiff wind would blow him clean away.

This guy to the left was with the "Young Americans" also. I don't know if you can tell, but he was plenty weird.

At one point he said something daffy. I wrote it down: "American[ism?] among people through youth and music." It's like a motto or something. That's at least pretty close to what he said.

I think that he was also the one who explained the genesis of the "Young Americans." He took us back to 1962, "just the beginning of the scourge of drugs." All these druggies and hippies you kept hearing about weren't anything like the good clean kids warbling in Milt's school choir! Something had to be done to correct so false an impression! Milt wanted to show America what American kids "are really like." Singing and dancing. Chirping.

So he got his troup together and, soon enough, they got a gig on the "Bing Crosby TV Show." Then it was "off to the races." They've been zipping around the globe for over forty years. Andreea told me that, at one point, these "Young Americans" were actually famous back in Romania!

Well, Mr. Young American was there to tell us: "we need a home."

One of these YA guys showed part of a movie that was very Kathie Lee Gifford. You know, some kid would start dancing, and then some mom would be overwhelmed by the goodness of it. She'd start crying.

Pretty schmaltzy, if you ask me.


Here's Cal yackin' it up with Andreea, the "VC with the extra E." She seems to be the brains of this outfit. Sure ain't Raghu.

But Raghu was looking awfully confident last night. That can't be good.

We are SO screwed.

The gee whiz era

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● Check out DISSENT'S quick notes on last night's board meeting (below).

● Then read this story in this morning’s Inside Higher Ed: Jerry Springer U. My fave quote: “I think this is another example that we are stuck in the gee whiz era of the Internet….”

● Are students narcissistic? You bet! Check out this morning’s LA Times: Gen Y's ego trip takes a nasty turn:

…All the effort to boost children's self-esteem may have backfired and produced a generation of college students who are more narcissistic than their Gen X predecessors, according to a new study led by a San Diego State University psychologist.

And the Internet, with all its MySpace and YouTube braggadocio, is letting that self-regard blossom even more, said the analysis, titled "Egos Inflating Over Time."

In the study being released today, researchers warn that a rising ego rush could cause personal and social problems for the Millennial Generation, also called Gen Y. People with an inflated sense of self tend to have less interest in emotionally intimate bonds and can lash out when rejected or insulted….

Scenes from a board meeting

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☞ Tonight's meeting of the SOUTH ORANGE COUNTY COMMUNITY COLLEGE DISTRICT Board of Trustees was the usual thing.

● Don Wagner came out swinging against the Accrediting Teams and their "absurd" perspective.

● Raghu Mathur and his little pal Dave Lang came within an inch of violating the Brown Act. They didn't seem to care.

● Groups, including the "Young Americans," spent two hours selling their vision for ATEP—only to discover that the Chancellor had already agendized (or thought he had, anyway) a recommendation that he commence negotiating with the other guys (Camelot, those producers of Nada). Even Tom looked askance.

● The Board Majority (Lang, Wagner, Fuentes, Williams) continued their SNIPERY with Nancy Padberg. Marcia and Bill seemed bewildered.

● The Chancellor & Board's new "streamlining" innovations were swell. The meeting went an hour long.

—Like I said, the usual.

I'm too tired to explain it all. Maybe tomorrow. But here are some pics.

First a prayer, then the Pledge. The Saddleback Academic Senate objected to the prayer. Williams wants to leave the matter to the public—at the next election.

Tom was in a good mood. But he seemed gaunt, like he'd stayed in a sauna too long.

A lady named "Cat," I think, explained about being a Young American. She's Australian.

Bob and Wendy did a good job representing the faculty senates.

The Young Americans were young, and mostly American. (They seemed to be pathologically chirpy, too.)

I'm beginning to think that these two are in love, what with all their winking and smiling. Not that there's anything wrong with that. In fact, its kinda refreshing.

Wendy called the board on a serious agenda SNAFU. She saved 'em from illegality, she did. I suggested to her that she send 'em a bill.

These two always seem to be laughing at a dirty joke or worse. They're like a couple of punks sitting at the back of the room. Hate that.

I took this as I was driving to the meeting, near Lake Forest. Yes, sometimes, the sun is a blob.

Once There was a Process

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OR SO PEOPLE SAY. Maybe it's just a title for a bad country and western song.


Still, we at DISSENT believe that there was once a process on this campus that helped determine how space was allocated. You'd think that maybe the Facilities Committee has something to do with this. Maybe not. The name may be misleading. Perhaps their primary concern is elsewhere, say NASCAR or Mediterranean cuisine.

At any rate, small rewards for those with information leading to the discovery of a process – or at least, the history of a process. Surely, there was once a process for the equitable distribution of space that took into consideration the needs of programs, trends in growth and enrollment and instructional integrity. Maybe not.

Maybe we just begged, or bribed, or went through the back door, wherever that is.

Anyway, please feel free to give your information via the comment system (anonymous if you wish) or simply keep doing what some of you do: slide pieces of paper under our office door. We don't mind. It's nice to know that you are there.

Chunk photographs the future

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—Namely, niece Sarah (4 years old) and nephew Adam (2 and a half) — Sunday evening, Trabuco Canyon.

Jeff Nielsen is a conservative guy

CORRUPTION sure is a drag.

In Orange County, we’ve got lots of corruption. All kinds.

For instance, we’ve got a Republican Mafia, a secretive group of Karl Rovian thugs who make life difficult for decent Republicans. These mafiosi pretty much do as they please around here.

And when things get hot, they sure know how to cool off, boy. They're amazing!

You remember our big OC priest scandal. GOP names—Tom Fuentes, et al.—kept popping up in that one. It looked bad, and, as litigation moved forward, it seemed that it could only get worse, much worse.

Well, no. It took $100 million, but "they" (the Diocese, I suppose, which has long had very close ties with the OC GOP) definitely put a lid on it. The truth is in there, under that lid, but we’re never gonna see it, that's for darned sure. (See Gustavo Arellano's Boy-buggering bingo.)

Recently, the Sheriff’s ex-best pal, former Assistant Sheriff George Jaramillo, was convicted of various corrupt deeds. (See County of lights, county of magic.) He didn't seem to get much of a sentence: one year. That seemed odd.

Years ago, at the beginning of that case, it sure looked like Jaramillo was gonna spill the beans—about his corrupt boss and who-knows-who-else. But, in the end, no beans.

The OC Republican mafia’s got a farm system, you know. They find young men and put their patrician hands on those young shoulders. “Let me help,” they say.

“Really? You wanna help little ol’ me?”

“Why, yes, young man! Let’s go to the spa and talk about it!”


Jeffrey Nielsen was such a young man. According to the OC Weekly (R. Scott Moxley's Boy crazy), back in 1996, then-25-year-old Nielsen was being mentored by some local GOPers. That, at any rate, is the impression left by letters printed by the Weekly and allegedly written at the time by Nielsen to a young boy in Virginia. (The boy, now an adult, reportedly asserts that, when he was in 7th and 8th grade, Nielsen had sex with him.)

In a letter dated October, Nielsen reportedly wrote the boy:

It was really nice to get a letter from you and for you to call me….

So, here’s what’s going on with me. On Friday, Tom Fuentes (the chairman of the OC Republican Party) called me and wanted me to meet him at Macy’s at South Coast Plaza. I got there and he bought me a suit. Then he took me to dinner and the sauna at the ritzy Balboa Bay Club. [Name deleted] told me he likes to reward hard-working young Republicans that he likes and he knows are going to go far. It was really rewarding.

As you know, I’ve been working really hard on the Scott Baugh campaign…. [Baugh is the current OC GOP chairman.] The only time I’m not working is when I’m watching a USC game, at church, asleep or writing you . . . or trying to get my law school applications together. I’ve got both my USC and Chapman applications typed. I’m working on getting all of my Letters of Recommendation together now. I’ve got Rohrabacher, Flanagan and Fuentes done. Today I found out that this guy who is the state chair of the Republican Party, Mike Schroeder (a friend of Rohrabacher) [Schroeder is the current kingpin of the Republican mafia], would also write me a letter of rec. It’s really good that he does because he’s on the board of trustees at USC Law School.

—Wait a minute. Tom Fuentes? Is that the same Tom Fuentes who, these days, serves on the SOCCCD board of trustees? Our Tom Fuentes? The pious and Spain-hating Tom Fuentes?

Why, yes it is. But Tom likes to mentor. Does it all the time. Apparently, Tom’s mentoring of young Jeff later blossomed into friendship or something. According to a Moxley article from late ’05 (Nambla fantasy), “More than once, Fuentes…visited Casa de Nielsen for parties.”

Eventually, Scott Baugh got Nielsen a job with fancy Irvine law firm Manatt, Phelps & Phillips. Then (says the Weekly), in 2003, “Nielsen was arrested…for allegedly molesting a Westminster High School freshman boy and possessing a huge, illegal cache of man-boy pornography.”

That can’t be good.

After several (suspicious) delays, the trial finally got under way a few days ago. 'Bout time!

The first to report on it was—who else?—the OC Weekly’s R. Scott Moxley (Imaginary teen sex?, Feb. 22):

A frowning Paul Meyer, defense lawyer for accused child molester Jeffrey Ray Nielsen, stood before the jury during opening statements this week…His client—a onetime congressional intern and aide to Rep. Dana Rohrabacher—is not just innocent but a victim, he said. Meyer pounded his finger on the podium and railed about the “audacity” of the prosecutor introducing a small sampling of the hundreds of man-boy sex pictures Nielsen possessed at his home.

“Those pictures have nothing to do with this case,” said Meyer, who fought to keep the jury from seeing the child pornography by arguing there is a “dissimilarity” between possessing kiddie porn and molesting youngsters.

Besides, said Meyer, Nielsen is no freak. “Don’t be misled,” he told the jury. “Jeff Nielsen is a conservative guy, responsible, caring and very family-oriented. He cares about people.”

…Deputy District Attorney Dan Hess began the Feb. 22 trial by explaining that Nielsen, 36, “actively sought out a boy, pursued this boy to carry out his own sexual perversion” on a 14-year-old freshman at Westminster High School…“The defendant is free to do what he wants, but not with a 14-year-old boy,” said Hess, who noted that a minor cannot legally consent to have sex with an adult in California.

…The defense version is that Nielsen was startled at the boy’s age when they met, resisted the boy’s sexual passes and chose instead to mentor him because, as Meyer claimed, “he’s a kid who is out of control . . . wanting to run away from home . . . suicidal . . . hating his life.”….

Nielsen is a “successful lawyer,” USC graduate, home owner and BMW driver who loves his dog “Page,” Meyer often noted for the Newport Beach jury. What, he asked, would he see in a boy who “lives in a Westminster trailer park”?....

—A day later (Friday), the LA Times weighed in (Molestation trial begins for lawyer with ties to O.C. power):

Accused of molesting a 14-year-old boy he met over the Internet, a former aide to Rep. Dana Rohrabacher and onetime intern at the Orange County district attorney's office was portrayed Thursday by a prosecutor as a man who repeatedly preyed on a minor for sex.

…Nielsen's trial opened in a Newport Beach courtroom nearly four years after he was arrested…The case might have received little attention if not for Nielsen's connections to Rohrabacher (R-Huntington Beach) and other influential members of the local Republican Party.

As first reported by the OC Weekly, Nielsen was an aide at Rohrabacher's Washington, D.C., office in the mid-1990s, a period during which the congressman and GOP power brokers Tom Fuentes and Michael Schroeder provided character references to USC Law School on his behalf. Nielsen's father, Ben, is a former Fountain Valley mayor.

….[Deputy District Attorney Dan] Hess displayed blown-up copies of e-mails between Nielsen and Doe, which, he said, corroborate the allegations and show that Nielsen pursued the relationship after Doe told him he wanted to end it and find someone closer to his age. Hess closed by handing each juror a folder containing copies of five images of child pornography he said were found on Nielsen's computers.

Taking umbrage at that move, defense attorney Paul S. Meyer asked the judge for special permission to start his opening statement before the recess that is typically given after the prosecution opens the case…"The reason I didn't want to take a break is because a picture is worth a thousand words," he said, urging jurors to ask themselves, "Why are we looking at these photos?"….

The accuser is expected to take the stand next week.

—OK, I'VE GOT A PREDICTION. Nielsen may or may not be convicted. But, conviction or no, we’re never gonna learn much about Nielsen's interesting life with the boys of the good old OC Republican Party. That’s for damn sure.

Chunk's Friday afternoon snaps

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I took this one from near Modjeska grade—very near DISSENT the COMMUNE. We're looking at Santiago and Modjeska peaks (i.e., "Saddleback"—elevation, 5687 feet).

Looking west, toward Fashion Island (Newport Beach) and even Catalina Island.

Looking south, over near my place.

IRVINE VALLEY COLLEGE'S "PERFORMING ARTS CENTER":

Earlier today, I walked over to the new Performing Arts Center, still under construction. It's gonna be impressive, I think. Hear that IRVINE?

Took a few pics:




Have a nice weekend!

P.S: this is what the Performing Arts Center is supposed to look like when it is finished (some time in the fall):

Ketty Lester: "Love Letters"

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▼ ASTOUNDING. Among the innovations brought to IVC a couple of weeks ago for the "Astounding Inventions" kiddie event were some extreme modifications of the plumbing in at least two buildings. Those scamps!

Gosh, that reminds me of my youth, when one of my 8th grade colleagues attempted to clear the pipes of a toilet at Cerro Villa Junior High by flushing a lit cherry bomb. "Boom," it said.

As I recall, the colleague was the rat bastard son of a high-profile Villa Park doctor, namely, Dr. R, the official medical advisor of the California Angels (we were terribly impressed), and, according to rumor, Dr. R showed up with a wad of green to make the whole thing go away, and it did.

My school days were filled with such glamour. The principal of the junior high was one C.B. Courson. Years earlier, he was the principle of Villa Park Elementary, where I spent my first two or three years of school (c. 1961-2). I recall he had occasion to drive me home once when I missed the bus. (He seemed nice enough.) When the new elementary school was built (Serrano), I was among its students, and C.B. Courson became its principal! And—get this!—when I went from Serrano to Cerro Villa (7th grade), so did CB! It was an amazing coincidence. Naturally, it had no meaning whatsoever.

As it turns out, CB Courson was the father of Jim Morrison's girlfriend. (I think she was played by Meg Ryan in the movie.) I don't know the details, but I do know that, by about 1970, Courson went Hollywood bigtime. I recall his mod suits and hair and gold chains. Wadda asshole.

Years later, when I checked out a copy of that posthumous album of Morrison's poetry, I was amazed to discover that the name of the producer on the album's cover was none other than--C.B. Courson, Mr. hair and suit--Mr. Executor of dead daughter's estate. Wadda creep.

Anyway, my sources tell me that the restrooms still haven't been fixed. In the meantime, the Amazing Wayne has been scarce of late and he seems to too preoccupied to make life hell for his employees as per usual. Or so I'm told.

What does it all mean? Dunno.

▼ BOARD MEETING MONDAY. Don't forget: meeting of the SOCCCD Board of Trustees, Monday! For the agenda, go to AGENDA.

▼ "IT'S HIP!": BROUGHT TO YOU BY STUDENTS--AND THE DEPARTMENT OF WOMEN STUDIES! Sheesh, check out this wacky story (see Inside Higher Ed) about, um, the "deconstruction" of our "assumptions" about "sex workers" (it's all very academic, you understand) at the venerable College of William & Mary: Show draws crowd:

...Sparkling nipple adornments, feather boas, bare bottoms, erotic dances, striptease music and sex toys entertained a crowd of more than 400 who were packed into the auditorium of the University Center. Another 300 were turned away. The show attempted to empower the actors by portraying the realities of their careers.

…"It's just so out there and expressive," said Josh Campbell, a member of Lamba Alliance, one of six student groups to sponsor the event. "It's hip, it's in your face, and it's exciting."

In addition to curiosity, the show also aroused some opposition.

Ken Petzinger, a physics professor, was outraged to learn that the college had permitted such an event. He found out about it last Friday, too late to stop it.

"I think it's a totally inappropriate use of student funds," Petzinger said. "It's in conflict with other values the college has."

President Gene Nichol issued a statement Tuesday afternoon, perhaps hoping to preempt inevitable criticism tied to the Wren cross.

"I don't like this kind of show and I don't like having it here," he said. "But it's not the practice and province of universities to censor or cancel performances because they are controversial."

Most of the money for the event, which cost about $1,800, comes out of student fees. The Office of Student Activities helps disperse the money for all kinds of campus-wide events. The Department of Women Studies donated $200 to help pay for the show.

…Senior Sean Barker, a black studies major, … felt it important to bring back such a unique perspective to college students…Barker felt the provocative performances and crass anecdotes don't encourage promiscuity or promote sexual activity.

"It serves to deconstruct some of the assumptions we may have about sex workers," he said. "It's just exposure to a different world."

The event is part of a month-long national tour, which included a stop at Virginia Commonwealth University on Sunday. It serves to give sex workers an opportunity to explain how they view their own work. They don't sugarcoat the details.

…A 75-year-old man, who wouldn't give his name, was in attendance with a group of people accompanied by a faculty member. He was bothered by what he saw.

"It's shocking they had this type of event for impressionable young people," the man said.

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▼ NEVER MIND ALL THAT. Here's something good. I remember this recording (with Lester on piano, unlike in this live performance, evidently) from my childhood. Just love it.

(No doubt Principal Courson and I listened to it in his little sports car.)

Absolutely for my SP in F!

See Ketty Lester.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame!

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WHO KNEW that IVC had its own unofficial softball team? Apparently some of you did but you weren’t telling. It took Rebel Girl stumbling across two of the players exchanging bon mots about last week’s game and showing off their injuries (ouch!) in the A-200 hallway to discover the existence of the – get ready – IVC TASERS! [Update: we stand corrected. Evidently, they're called the "PHASERS." You know. Star Trek.]

Dominated by self-described “shy tech guys” who declined to go on the record for this report and at least one sporty Bio type, the team has suffered a string of weekend defeats at nearby Harvard Park but their spirits remain undaunted.

Sources say that the next game is scheduled for this Saturday.

Runaway

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I FIRST RAN AWAY when I was — oh, I must have been about ten or eleven. It was after my first younger sister was born but before my second one was. The sister was finally sleeping through the night but my mother and her new husband were not — instead they were having what the novels I would later love characterize as "rows." I left the apartment and spent the night across the street in the 24-hour laundromat. The dryers rumbled. The lights were bright and no one bothered me as I tucked myself away in a linty corner. It was my protest against poor parenting and drunken all-night brawls. My mother did not notice. I returned at dawn, before the baby woke up, made breakfast, and got myself off to school.

Five years later, I ran away again, this time to a runaway shelter, which fed me and made sure I got to school and to the local police department, where the officers duly took photos of my bruises and took down my sad story. My mother showed up for counseling sessions at the shelter and even I was impressed by her. I went back home, leaving behind a plaid flannel shirt for a girl who needed it more than I did.

Two months later, I left again, never to go back, pedaling away one night on my lime green ten-speed bicycle. No one came looking.

Since then I have tried to not run, epecially since I come from a family of runners. I recognize irresponsibility, recklessness, the selfishness — and worry I have it too. My father ran away as did my mother and my sisters, though my siblings were mostly taken by young husbands or the state.


Then, last week, I ran away, although, since I had my sweetheart and son in tow, I don't know if it really qualifies. There was something solitary in the other escapes. This one was different. For example, from the outset, returning was a given. But then again, there was the irresponsibility too — the recklessness, selfishness. I left behind things undone, ill friends, ailing family, dishes in the sink, laundry piled in baskets and a broken computer that seemed to underline the general brokenness of everything else, or so it seemed at the time. Broken hearts, bodies, world, the sad anniversaries of loss.

Where I went, too, was broken, albeit beautiful. ("Albeit" — another word from those novels!) It helped to understand that again.

So I am back. My computer is still broken. I'm using someone else's. It works; mine doesn't. That's okay. It has to be.

I will work harder to do what I should with what I have.


The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring
And the sunshine and waters are sleeping
The broken heart it kens, no second spring again
And the world does not know how we're greeting!

—The Bonnie, Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond