Monthly Archives: April 2007

Dennis Kucinich is running for president again. He seems like a nice guy, and I agree with most of his positions and policies (although I’m a little annoyed that he’s running when he-doesn’t-have-a-chance, instead of supporting
Barak Obama, who is my choice at least for now.) So, nice guy and pretty good views.
But.
Kucinich is NOT a hunk, a hottie, a ladies’ man, or whatever this week’s label is. He’s about 60 years old, short, and kind of nerdy looking. Last week after the Democratic candidates debated, their families milled around onstage. I wandered into the kitchen and told my husband that they all looked predictably bland, “except one of the candidates has a beautiful daughter. She’s taller than all the men, and has the most beautiful waist-length red hair I’ve ever seen.”
Boy, was I wrong.
The beautiful redhead was actually 28 year old Elizabeth Kucinich, Dennis Kucinich’s wife.
Imagine that!
A few pictures of the happy couple –

I’ve always hated the word ‘diabetes’ so I’ve decided that, instead of saying I have “Type 2 Adult Onset Diabetes” I’ll put it the way old black ladies at church are wont to do – “I’ve got the sugar.”

I’ve always hated the word ‘diabetes’ so I’ve decided that, instead of saying I have “Type 2 Adult Onset Diabetes” I’ll put it the way old black ladies at church are wont to do – “I’ve got the sugar.”

Tuesday 24 April I learned that I had to immediately focus on weight, diet, sugar, and exercise or else I’d die sooner rather than later.  I was depressed and terrified for a day or two.  But, really, there are some good parts to this.
ACT ONE
Act I of my life was that I was born, I grew up, went to school, did stuff, got married, raised a couple of great kids.  Act I was over about the turn of the century.

INTERMISSION
Around 1999-2001 the curtain rose on Act I, and the lights went up for intermission.  Here’s what I mean by intermission: nothing further happened.  Imagine frozen.  Imagine deer in headlights; beached whale unable to turn over on deserted beach; drowning victim hoping someone else will save her; person trapped under large boulder; sleepwalker stuck in dreamscape; bug on back; dissociation; uncontrolled spending and consumption and eating; imagine the loneliness when all the actors from Act I leave the stage except me.  Dramatic enough?

Details: Between 1999 and 2006, the following occurred:
I passed 50 years old.
Both kids left home.
My husband and I passed through a marital crisis.
My mother died after a long illness and I still miss her.
My brother died after a long illness and I still miss him.
My sister had two different kinds of cancer and I still worry about her.
My father passed 80 years old and moved to the end of the block.
No one is left at my childhood home.

DIGRESSION:  This isn’t any old childhood home.  It’s beautiful, historic, it’s the site of a famous 1858 murder, it has fields, flowers, barns, it had a pool, my brother & sister & I all got married there, my mother & brother died there, it has a spring and a spring house, and I feel about it the way I imagine native Americans feel about sacred ground.  Here’s a picture:

First I have to finish housework and take a shower.
Then, I can start on the Things-I-Keep-Thinking-I’ll-Write-About, such as:
When did everyone start talking like nurses?
Why Navajo women weave a flaw into their rugs.
Cultural Literacy w/r/t Age, Class, Education.
The Democratic nominee for president for 2008.
Good new or newish music.