a little red hen

Super Bawl* Sunday: Ads a Feminist Could Support

Much chatter* about this year's TV ads accompanying today's football event, the yearly display of testosterone with accompanying rise in spouse abuse.  Women's Media Center has coordinated shout-outs to  CBS to dump the ad.  And been ignored.  Everything more you'd want to know appears in the blog,  The Reclusive Leftist.  She rightly nails patriarchy as the true source of the problem.

For image, I offer one  saved on my desktop for a couple of years--a poster on bus kiosk around New York City.   I'd support variations on it year round.  Living closer to the ground, so to speak, these days in Portland, Oregon,  I now start the day with the  local Oregonian delivered to my door in contrast to the national NY Times (read later when picked up at the front desk of my retirement community).

Locally Portland would seem to harbour more women abusers than back east (I doubt this) because the "small" incidents here are reported by the media.   In NYC only prominent men receive notice by journalists.  Coast to coast, however, they are always lightly punished. 

Writing to promote the "Geezers' Crusade" , David Brooks on the Op-Ed page of the Times, wants us to do more on behalf of younger people.  Would he support a movement by older people that demands  more visible signs of respect for women in every American city--bold ones like this poster? 

Could it happen in  your city?

Eleanna considers cream-cheese-bagel lunch

And now I have knit chickens...

A few weeks ago, I went back to Close Knit, a favorite yarn shop here.  Last winter I bought Noro yarn and pattern there to make this vest;  finished when we returned to New York.  One of my more successful yarn projects.  It  helped that there was an already-knit version I could try on  to check out the fit. 

Knitting chickens, representations of them not the actual bird, has moved  along my plan to knit kids' toys.   First,  a yellow Polka-Dot Chicken from Susan B. Anderson's "Itty-Bitty Nursery."  I was going to give this to Zoe but decided to keep it.

I rationalized that her baby sister might tear it  and get into this bag of  beads used to weight the bottom.  Zoe shares my fondness for chickens,  chases  uncaged ones resident in the nearby schoolyard. Hope  they  make it through the winter.

Because she's partial to dots, I added them to another  Susan B. Anderson pattern for a striped chicken.  And produced this larger hen for her to take home.  On visits with us, she plays with the smaller one. Clara is the name she gave to  both.  Sounds  old-fashioned from a modern little girl.

 
Sent off this sweater for Roxie's Purple Bear that I made in August, just before we left NYC. I've started another animal for her,  a Hippo from Susan B. Anderson's new book, itty-bitty toys.  Did Susan and I meet at Knitty City?  I have a signed copy of the other Itty-Bitty. She is a very inventive designer who blogs here.

Feeling quite righteous because I'm only using yarn from my stash for these projects.   Found more funky chick patterns at Ravelry--that comes after the Hippo and another vest for myself, this time with Ron's yarn.

Recalling my hen obsession while she was in Paris, Maxine Levinson at Knitty City sent me a photo she snapped of a poulet store.  I lost it and effort to retrieve it via Google led to a blog called Paris Breakfasts.  Discovered many sides of  chicken enthusiasm among the French.  Something little red hens everywhere are trying to tell us?

Starting to use her as my avatar.  Please note the beaded necklace.

Posting less than I'd like because we continue to have a busy time in Portland, O, with taking classes, finding intriguing lectures.  This week the Humanist Chaplain at Harvard came through to promote his book, "Good without God: what a billion nonreligious people do believe."    Saw Philip Glass' new opera,"Orphee" and liked the music.   A group  sat in the lobby doing live blogging.

More  boxes await attention.   Though I feel frustrated about my ability to influence national politics, there are local issues to work on.  Oregon, like California, has votes often on initiatives outside regular elections.

The outcome of Initiatives 66 and 67  will have profound effect on funding for schools and social services.  "YES" is the word for the  January 28 election. 

"The Way We Get By," a movie for all of us--seniors & others

Tonight on the PBS program Point of View, I'll be watching again a beautifully conceived movie we saw last July before we left New York.  With a low-key title, "The Way We Get By", is one you will want to see no matter your attitude toward U.S. involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Is it anti-war?  Not exactly.  Pro-war?  No.

It is about women and men like us:  older citizens, looking for a way to make a difference, some hoping to relieve their loneliness as spouses and friends are gone.  There had been little publicity on the film when we saw a notice about it last July.  And I was not quite sure what to expect reading it was a documentary about a group of seniors in Bangor, Maine, who meet soldiers both leaving for and returning from war.

It's this airport where most soldiers leave the U.S. and the Maine Troop Greeters have welcomed home or said goodbye to one million of them!  I spoke with Gita Pullapilly, the film's producer, and asked if Grandmothers Against the War had been contacted for support.  She'd tried but had not heard back.  

But my effort to contact my friend in the group,  Joan Wile, did not get a response either.  Too bad because the story is not a pro-war or anti-war one.  The three "Greeters" focused on make that clear:  they wanted to do something for these soldiers to let them know we are aware of them, care about them.  My argument with "Grandmothers" always was that we of all people needed to find ways to do more than demonstrate; we could give time to families directly affected by the wars.

We even had a chance to meet the director (son of one of the Greeters) who has just married the producer (it's all on the PBS website.  We got an update and chance to talk with another featured Greeter  who had successfully recovered from heart surgery.  It was all very personal--and political--in the best sort of way.

If you do not have a chance to see it tonight, "The Way We Get By" is traveling around the country and may show near you.  Their dedication moved me so much as a pacifist who has looked for a personal way to express gratitude to women and men in the military even as I oppose the idea of war.

There's also a DVD out now that could be passed around among friends who are eager to see often-unseen older folks as caring actors in the public space.

"Small Is Beautiful" in my everyday life

Last night we picked up our daughter and went to a downtown movie.  Last show, we were the only ones at Lloyd Center Mall to see "The Informant."  Curious film--glad for lack of violence or gratuitous sex--maybe I missed the point?  Afterwards,  realized I'd dropped my Ron-knit-hat and new gloves.

[Aside:  Minor challenge is adjusting to current Portland weather.  Thought cold times had arrived--wrong.]

Called the Mall this morning, got number for movie office.  "Wait a minute," the woman said, "let me look."  She returned, described my lost articles.  Later today I'll pick them up at the box office.  Meanwhile we had a brief and pleasant exchange about the oddness of being alone at the movies.

Oh, I am liking so much the scale of life here.  Take Sunday morning just passed.   Along with 17 others,

[Aside: Every now and then some of that much-advertised rain appears]

I scribbled away for two hours at a Community Writing Workshop at HOT LIPS Pizza on Hawthorne.  Write Around Portland puts these on to give new and not-so writers the "experience of the transformative power of writing in community."  Very intergenerational--17 on up, one other grandmother, other recent transplants.

[Aside:  Hot Lips' pizza has been a favorite since our family settled nearby...delicious Pear Soda, a new addition...and the jams.  Website text on how they came to add these by accident rather than corporate plan is my notion of  modern Portland-style, as contrasted with old-fashioned.  Again, more later.]

Why the workshop, I hope you ask.  Need a jump start on writing in general plus a push to working more on  my plays about life among the not-so-old  as we get more so. Preferring "old" lately as adjective and noun.

[Aside:  The WAP session was a push.  More came from unpacking another book box (endless), finding books of ten-minute plays.  More later.]

In synch with E.F. Schumacher and the beauty of "small,"  decided to get rid of many more books.  Reading Fran Johns' postings on the True/Slant blog, listening to children of the old talking about the burden of parents' wish for them to receive their "stuff," resonated.  Okay, they really, really live in the here-and-now--a thing or two from Mom and Dad's pile and that's it.

  [Aside:  Our son-in-law cherishes his grandfather's college football helmet, our daughter dresses her children in sweaters I knit for her--and saved.  My daughter-in-law in New York took on this blue baby dress of mine.]

Keeping the flame of  Schumacher alive is a society with a number of programs,  and a blog.  Good ideas do not go out of style.

 

What's a grandmother to do?

This was fun.  Our seven-year-old grandson came to dinner at our place following an afternoon movie.  He is very interested in cooking thanks to input from his father and other grandma.  This was such a delightful time for us that I reluctantly speak of the movie.

"Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs," is a quirky title of a very popular children's book.  I'd heard of it and wondered.  Before we left NYC, there was a very upbeat review in the New York Times.  Surely this would be more appropriate for Zach than the one we tried a couple of years ago, "Ratatouille."  In this "Common Sense" rating system, it was pronounced swell even though 100% of parents said, "too violent."  Yes, it  scared our grandchild, puzzled us; we fled early.

He was anxious to go to "Meatballs."  A movie is a rare experience in his TV-less household where he only sees children's videos.  Sunday afternoon at Lloyd Center in downtown PDX--a mob scene.  We watched, thought it would never end.  Zach loved it.What's my problem here?  In "Willamette Week," Aaron Mesh had a single complaint in his review:

Ron Barrett’s original pen-and-ink illustrations were intricate and moody, filled with awe and mystery as well as peanut-butter-and-jelly blizzards. The edibles that fall from the sky in Sony’s CGI cartoon look like Fisher Price play food...

For me there was a disgusting aspect to the stuff. The excessive size and intensity of the food presented the too-muchness as something to be desired.  And it went on too long.  And what was the idea behind the stereotyped African-American policeman?  He was presented as a heavy with a heart of gold, redeemed by loving his little son.  Strange. 

And the father of the hero, the only person of age in the film, was a heavy-footed who really did not get his son's ideas.  Especially as they all related to his (how old was he supposed to be?) computer science wizardry.  Father did not even know how to turn the damned computer on--a crucial task in the adventure.  Piling up the cliches was the air-headed girl reporter who turns out to be smart toward the end.  Can't remember whether this was when she put on eyeglasses or took them off. 

Well, I survived those classic Disney mother-loss dramas "Snow White" and "Bambi," so Zach will no doubt weather (oops, unintended pun) "Meatballs" with his own family's values intact.

October already...having too much fun

Thinking it's important to make an appearance, I offer a harvest moon, a little bear knit for our youngest  granddaughter (completed a couple of weeks ago from Italian merino, Oat Couture pattern).

We have been busy since landing in the City of Roses--still unpacking/arranging/discarding stuff--visiting often with family, looking into lifelong learning offerings and getting integrated into life in an urban retirement community.

More time than I expected in decisions about where I'm going with my bead accumulation.   Last week many of them went to a silent auction for a new after-school, middle school program.  Being "with them" again after many years at a distance, their colors, shapes, memories of collecting drew me close.

Great weather too, the kind that makes me want to stay outdoors before the promised Fall rainy season.

Why Healthcare Reform Could Fail, or Please, don't stand next to me in the checkout line!

You are lying in a critical care bed in upstate New York.  A nurse approaches.  Has she washed her hands?  Maybe.  Has she had an H1N1 flu shot.  No!  How safe are you feeling?  If I were still living in NYC, this would be my newest concern.  Back in NYC, a large number of healthcare workers are refusing these shots because required to do so.  Oh, it would be okay if they could be in charge of the decision?

"We don't feel the government should have the right to force us to put any substance -- whether or not the government feels it's safe -- into our body," said Laura Ally, a critical-care nurse at St. Peter's Hospital in Albany. New York is the first state to mandate flu shots for healthcare workers.  According to this news report, a group of them will rally for their questionable cause  at the state capitol.  Makes me wonder how long before the U.S., led by folks such as these, will rid itself of a central government.

Ever since our daughter and son-in-law had their first child in Portland, Oregon, one fact worried me more than others.   Many parents here are opposed to vaccination for their children...read this scary story from last Fall.   The elementary school our 7 year old  attends has one of the highest rates of children whose families have opted out of innoculations for their kids.  Wondering if these same folks as as committed to the idea of reproductive choice for women as they are to making my grandchildren's surroundings unsafe.

We had a new sort of experience in getting our own yearly flu shots this weekend.  Three pharmacies in town had advertised FREE shots.  We'd missed the September dates at Wahlgreen's (where it was not clear whether we'd have to pay $25) and Rite-Aid.  At Safeway, we got an appointment for the next day, used Medicare.  If we had any doubts before, we now know that reform of the healthcare system could fail because the money does not follow our having a more rational system. And, reason two, there are a remarkable number of uneducated people standing in the checkout line. Powerful combo.

Mandatory-Healthcare-Factoid:  "Pilgrims who travel to Mecca this Fall Get Oral Vaccine," whether they like it or not,  as reported in Tuesday, September 29, "Science" section of the New York Times.  [sorry, could not find link]

"Grandma, How many boxes left?"

"Quite a few," his grandmother answers.  And does not tell him that it may be some time before every one is emptied.  Tony Patterson, our mover, who did a great job, said there were 140 boxes.  And then there was the furniture--and the car.

Some of the resident chickens are settled and enjoy their view.  That's Zoe, standing rather than sitting, in the first day of nursery school.  Zach on his way to Tae-Kwan-Do class.

 

We are very happy to be here in Portland, Oregon, where people seem less stressed.  Okay, it's an illusion but that's a relief some times too.  So many friends and acquaintances were puzzled that we'd choose to leave the Big Apple.

Our last day in the City, AM, the free newspaper handed out at subway stops, ran a front cover to remind us of the enormity of our decision.  But this works for us--a smaller, gentler place: second stage retirement.

 

The Sad Part of Leaving New York

It's all about the people we love and leave--till we come together again in the City or Portland.  Our "distance grandparenting" shifts coasts with our move.  We've had many good times with Roxie and her parents in our last days in New York.

This photo is a favorite of mine from a delightful  Sunday we enjoyed last winter in Dumbo, under the Brooklyn Bridge.