It's a great country!

My husband says that I should post my political opinions on my blog. Perhaps he is right or perhaps that would just make me the object of someones unreasonable hate. One thing about opinions is that we all have one and most often they're free for the giving. There is an old saying that one should avoid the topics of religion and politics in polite company. And we do vote secret ballot so I'll save my political opinion for the ballot box. I'm saying all of that to say this. Last week, I was sitting at home listening to the local news and they mentioned that Senator Hillary Clinton was bringing her campaign to Indiana. OK, I expected that. Then they said that she would be coming to Anderson, Indiana and that sort of got my attention as I work in Anderson. Then my jaw dropped to my chest when they said she'd be at the old Anderson High School on Thursday. That school is right across the street from my studio! To me this was big!
I knew that a circus atmosphere would be the rule of the day and would provide gobs of blog fodder. So this installment is all about that big event. I walked around the school grounds several times during the day and just snapped pictures of the people and events. My plan was to wait on the parade route and snap a picture of Senator Clinton as she rode past. Here's the thing about the secret service, they do not attach flashing lights to the car with the political candidate inside. I was so excited when her vehicle passed that I didn't even realize that it was her. I got a picture of her automobile with it's window rolled down. She was ready to wave, I'll give her that but I missed her entirely. I guess my paparazzi potential is pretty low.
So I got in line to go inside the gym and get a picture. As I waited in line I heard several men talk about how bad things have become. As I was standing there listening to them grumble, a blond haired woman (beautifully coiffed) drove past in her beautiful vehicle, wearing gorgeous clothes and lovely jewelry. Suddenly, inside her most wonderful world, she made a fist and shook it at the crowd of people lined up along the street. It seemed so strange to me then she laughed and I did too. Aren't we silly?
Several minutes after she'd passed us, a man carrying two signs declaring that Senator Clinton had or had not signed some trade deal came walking past us ... the multitude. The grumbling guys in line behind me grumbled some more about his audacity. And after that a man carrying a Ron Paul sign walked up the railroad tracks. And all this struck me funny and I said out loud "It's a great country!" Upon which the guys in line behind me grumbled some more about how horrible things have become. I came away unconvinced. America is a great country and I am so thankful that God set me down in this land. Through all the politicking, signs waved, the anti-Bush van with all it's bumper stickers against the president, placards decrying the senator, a fist wielding blond, etc, no one was drug out into the street and beheaded. We can speak our minds and offer our free opinions and live to brag about it. If that isn't great in a world where people are thrown into prison for way less, then I don't know what great is.

Floating iceberg to Exile Island

It has been a wonderful week. I became a grandmother this week. I am so ready for the task of extending my wisdom to another generation beyond my own children. My granddaughter is beautiful. But in all the running around following the commotion of such an historic event, I forgot to call one of my dear sisters and let her know that the baby is here! So, OMG, when I did call her I found out that I had broke her heart. She knew that my daughter was in labor but she wanted a follow up and I let her down. I was sick at heart over this. I come from a big family and I know how fast news travels in that crowd. I figured someone would call her right away. They didn't. During our call, my sister told me that sometimes she feels like one of those contestants on Survivor who is sent to Exile Island. There she sits all alone. And I told her that I know the feeling. All my family, besides my husband and kids, live hundreds of miles from me in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Sometimes, when I find out that an elderly relative died years ago, or that the family is getting together for a big dinner, or that so and so's baby is walking and I didn't even know they had a baby, and I realize that no one bothered to inform me of any of this, I feel like I've been set out on an iceberg to float away on icy, Artic waters. There I sit all alone. On comparing our poor, pathetic states, we both laughed. The thing is, I feel bad about this because this particular sister has been like a twin to me. She knows my heart better than anyone in my family. And maybe that is how this fiasco happened. When you are close to someone, it is as if they can read your mind and know your thoughts at any given time. In some sense I kind of figured she'd know but I took her for granted and hurt her. This got me to thinking about love and my family. I have decided that my granddaughter's birth should be a symbol of new birth in my relationships with my family, not just with my children but my extended family as well. I want to know about my siblings and their hopes and dreams. I want to know about my nieces and nephews and their children. My granddaughter will only benefit by having strong ties to her family. I guess the whole thing comes back to my basic thoughts about love. Love is like a living creature. It needs nurishment, protection and expression to live. I want to make sure that whenever any of my loved ones has a feeling of being set out on an island or iceberg they have a rope of love to hold onto.

FROZEN IN PLACE

I came across this youtube moment and I love it! I think this event would fall under a guerilla art event. And I am proud of myself for being able to at least get the location of this thing posted to my blog. I am learning. Just click on this and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo

The Hermitage

Phil and I just got back from a short trip to Nashville, Tennessee. We decided to go tour the Hermitage this past Thursday. It's the home of Andrew Jackson, 7th president of the United States. He and his wife Rachel had quite a set up there. They owned thousands of acres and numerous slaves to work those acres. The neat thing about the Hermitage is that they aren't trying to rewrite history and make believe that the slave thing is inconsequential. The Ladies Historical Society, the foundation in charge of all things Hermitage, is trying to show slave life along side the life of the Jacksons in an upstairs / downstairs sort of way.

Those of you who know me, know how I am always on the look out for a love story. The story of Andrew and Rachel Jackson was a love story that became a big scandal during his presidential campaign. She was a divorcee and through some kind of goof that the Jacksons were unaware of her divorce had not been finalized before they married. You can imagine how his political enemies used that against him. They got married again and Andrew Jackson went on to win the presidency. Well, Rachel Jackson died three days before they were to leave for Washington. At a time when he should have been overjoyed, Andrew Jackson left for Washington with a heavy heart. He did bring along family and friends to keep him company in the White House. Some time passed and then one day President Jackson read in the newspaper that his home in Tennessee had burned to the ground. He sent out a messenger to the Overseer with plans to start rebuilding the house and instructions that the beautiful mural type wallpaper that hung in the huge entrance hall be reordered and hung in the entrance hallway of the new house. Rachel loved that paper and he wanted it in the new house. That wallpaper is still hanging in the entrance hall at the Hermitage and seems to me to be a sort of tribute to their love and affection.