
Wow. The past 3 days I've been fighting a cold but enjoying the most ebullient feelings about our country and our future.
"Bliss it was to be alive" is the Wordsworth line making the rounds, warming English-major hearts everywhere. Check out Judith Warner's
"Tears to Remember" column (unless you are still weeping for McCain).
This morning at the grocery store, heading for the tea aisle, I nearly ran into Congressman Jim McDermott (D-WA), who looks JUST like he does on TV, with white hair and rosy cheeks. He was radiant, seemingly walking on air, and smiled broadly at my greeting, no doubt more at my Obama button than my mush-mouthed gee-willickers greeting. I was so flustered I read and re-read all the tea boxes, several times over.
He was gone in a flash (the cashier said the congressman joked about not being a good citizen because he forgot his tote bag) before I could ask him for tickets to the inauguration. Apparently tickets are free, and Congress gets a bunch to give away to constituents. Of course, getting to Washington, DC and back is not cheap. Sigh. I'll be at home on January 20th glued to the tube, and be glad I'm not freezing among the hordes on the Mall.
Yes. But I do so hope to get to DC at least once in my life. Our son is studying the Constitution in his 4th grade class, and next summer his school is leading a tour group to DC and Colonial Williamsburg. How I would love for him to go, and for me to go with him! But $2,200 per person is not chump change. (Business has been super slow, but if the stimulus package stimulates, we're on that plane!).
Later this morning I got a phone call from our local paper, asking for my reaction to Prop 2, the city's parks levy that just passed overwhelmingly. It includes $2 million for four community gardens (my bailiwick). Again, alas, I was gee-willickers inarticulate and giddy. I distrust most reporters, having been misquoted a lot, but this guy was really nice, so I found myself extemporizing about the economic, ecological and health benefits of urban food gardening, and recommending we go back to calling them "Victory Gardens" like our grandparents did during
the Depression WWII, and in general, enthusing about the "can do" grassroots spirit that drove the Obama campaign and will continue to drive positive community change. And by the way, did you know seed sales are up and organic food sales down? Thank goodness I got another call or we'd still be talking!
The next call was from a dear friend, a former OALCer and very wise soul, who is just as elated about the election results. After catching up, I asked for advice about something that has been weighing on me lately: how should one advise folks to deal with OALCers?
I get emails from people who have found this blog and want advice, either in dealing with a romance, job or school conflict, or other situation that involves Laestadians (usually OALC).
I hesitate to give advice, because (1) the details are always scant, and (2) I'm no expert. So I usually offer vague recommendations (the kind I give to my friends): talk directly, set clear boundaries, model respect for differences.
Is this enough? I asked if I had a duty to learn more, or to call OALC leaders and let them know what I was hearing (even though that would cause more strife to me and my family). Well, I was relieved when he did NOT encourage that, and gave me props for taking the high road. Such as it is. What do you think, readers?
During that phone call, I missed most of Obama's press conference this afternoon. Apparently he was boring, except where he talked about the new First Puppy, saying that he prefers mutts "like me", but they need a hypo-allergenic dog as Malia has allergies. That made me laugh, as it hit home:
Yesterday for his homework, our son had to write a letter to the new president, advocating for an issue. He chose education, and encouraged "more schools" in order to reduce class size, so "teachers and students can have more one-on-one time." He also mentioned, "by the way," that his dog is a great kind of dog.
As a cocker/bichon, Bodhi is a mutt AND hypo-allergenic. As I write this, Bodhi is sleeping beside me, dreaming of chasing squirrels. His paws and tail are twitching. While there are moments I'd be happy to give him away (he gets carsick and he chews on sofa cushions), the Obamas will just have to find their own.
Okay, back to work, everybody!