Jane Austen on Leadership

A weekend brightener for you all:

Run, Jane, Run!

More News on Mom

[How appropriate, I found this article today on MSNBC]

I had some unsettling news about my mother last night. She has been going through a fourth or fifth round of chemo the last two months. The Drs. ordered a CT scan to see the progress/regress of the cancer in her chest/lung. The scan revealed that there is fluid build-up around her heart and inconclusive results on the cancer.

Dad said he felt like he had been hit between the eyes. He had noticed Mom was slowing down and was more breathless than usual. Nothing out of the ordinary for somebody on chemo. So the Drs. are checking her blood markers again to see if the cancer is indeed more active or less. They also have a consult with a surgeon they had known previously to talk about what to do about the fluid.

As with the ways of Aspies, I can hardly tell how I’m feeling right now. Its like sadness and hurting all tangled up. My mind says…”Hey, you’ve been through almost 4 years of this battle…suck it up and be a support to your parents!” Then my heart says, “Just because I’ve seen BOTH of my parents nearly die in the last four years does not make this phase any easier!!”

Yeah, I’m pretty scared right now…not in a selfish way. Its that fear-of-the-unknown that gets me low.

Aspie Update – Executive Dysfunction

It’s been a while since I wrote about Autism and Asperger’s Syndrome…and I have been reminded quite powerfully in the last 24 hours that, yes indeed, I am still an Aspie.

First came the sugar crash yesterday afternoon. I ate two cookies plus trail mix with M&Ms. Yuck! By dinner time, I was dragging my sorry tail into the apartment without a clue as to what to cook for dinner. Hubby saw that overwhelmed and deflated look and jumped in to rescue me. He can make some seriously good tuna mac ‘n cheese. Then I spaced out in front of the computer, to escape from what I know is Executive Command Dysfunction.

Every so often, maybe twice a month, I get this overwhelmed-ness with even basic tasks. If I am tired or sugar-whacked, this exacerbates the underlying issue of my Autism. Most people operate with a running hierarchy of to-do lists in their minds, or on a palm pilot or 3×5 card. I, and many folks with ASD, have a different operating system to handle daily tasks, or seemingly very little system at all.

When I walk through my apartment door, like last night, I immediately see all the things I need to do…but I cannot see where to begin. All the tasks hit me at once as intensely and immediately important. For instance, the disorderly bookshelf is as blaring, let’s say, as the cat barf ten paces ahead on the carpet. Of course, I have enough functioning to take care of the yack first, but the books are still right there almost screaming at me to straighten them out. And then the kitchen table wasn’t wiped in the morning…and the dishes were not washed…and the cat water/food/box needs freshening…and the half dozen unfinished sewing and knitting projects…and the 8 books I am reading….

THEY ALL NEED DONE, NOW!

You would want to hide behind a computer monitor, too.

Since my diagnosis last summer, I have made some baby steps (Bob, I love it!) in recognizing when and how these types of shut downs happen. I can cogitate on the problem…but have not made many strides (as in the article) on how to corral the haywire Executive Command.

Got some suggestions? Questions?

Desmond Doss – My Hero

[Much belated post for the past weekend civic holiday. The HS has been pestering me to share this man's life. He won.]

TBN, one of six broadcast channels we receive through our bunny ear antenna, aired the documentary, The Conscientious Objector a few times. I was shocked this pro-militarism Christian network would do that. Jeff and I watched it with a box of kleenex between us. Powerful, incredibly powerful.

Desmond Doss was a Seventh Day Adventist who was drafted into the Army during WWII. He refused to touch a weapon during the entire war. He said his mission was to save lives and not to take them. The Army granted Doss the position of medic so he could fulfill God’s call.

He went into combat on Okinawa, on the most bloodiest part of the island, The Escarpment. Over and over again, the enemy had clear sight of Desmond, but their guns jammed or they just didn’t shoot him. If Desmond prayed for the Company, not a man was wounded that day. Miracles surrounded him.

Desmond also made it his prerogative to minister to the severely wounded men first, the reverse of his battlefield triage training. He also helped the wounded enemy soldiers and civilians. “As long as there was life in a man, there was hope.”

In the final battle to claim The Escarpment, Desmond pulled off 80 wounded or dead soldiers from the top of the hill, under heavy enemy fire and lowered them down to safety with a rope. When he ran back for another soldier, he prayed, “Lord let me save one more!”

No one was left behind.

Desmond was eventually wounded in the arm and leg. When the other medics were carrying him out, they passed another, more gravely injured man on the ground. Doss told the medics to put him down and carry the other man to safety first. The enemy launched an attack and Desmond had to crawl 300 yards to the medic station.

Somewhere along the way, he dropped his small Bible that he had used all through his Army experience. His buddies from the Company went back and combed through the still dangerous territory to find it. They did find it and sent it back to the ship where Desmond was recuperating.

When President Truman awarded the Medal of Honor to Desmond Doss, he said, “I consider this a greater honor than being the President.”

Mr. Doss went onto full disability because of his injuries and because of the TB he contracted on Okinawa. The doctors overdosed his antibiotics which left him permanently deaf. He retired to a small farm and raised his family in peace.

I really encourage you, if at all possible to see this documentary. There are some gruesome battlefield newsreel clips, so do not include your less than 16 year old children.

The Circle of Life

I hope you all had a restful weekend, in the U.S.A. or outer reaches thereof. We had a close-to-home holiday because of fuel prices. It was the best time I had in a while.

On Saturday, we visited with Paula, our goat milk lady. She had three new kids living on her front porch! They were less than a week old; one was less than 48 hours old. The younger was “nearly half dead” when Paula found him, but he was a little fighter and seemed to want to live. Jeff and I stuck around to bottle feed the kids. Wow, was that fun! I got goat milk all over my linen blouse. Who cares? I was so very blessed to give a baby goat a meal.

Then we watched the goats graze on fresh spring grass while Paula finished the morning milking. Good grass = Good Milk. One big older mama goat (I don’t remember her name) walked around the pasture with me, stopping to give my face a good sniffing every once and a while. The guard dogs also followed us, so it appeared to be some sort of animal parade through the meadow. Wish I had my camera with me to show all you.

The gallon of milk we brought home was the best we’ve had yet. Not goaty tasting at all! So smooth, creamy, yet not heavy to the tummy. The grass and goats made a great glass of milk!

Not Just a T-shirt

Oh my stars! I was on the verge of tears at the end of this video. If this ain’t the clarion call to clean out my closet this weekend, I have no idea what would get me off my tush. I have the means and the t-shirts to do make something meaningful.

You can read about the Goonj project here. If you want to help a similar charity for school girls in Africa, visit Goods 4 Girls. You don’t have to sew pads in order to help!

Here is another charity that takes cloth diapers, which can be sewn from recycled material. I’ve often thought of doing something similar here in my town, where there are many poor mothers. They could literally save a $1000 + if they could switch to cloth diapers. Maybe we can talk to Crisis Pregnancy Centers or the local Salvation Army branch to see if we can teach about using cloth?

You can learn how to sew some simple diapers from used clothing here.

Transitioning into Modesty

Kim left a comment on my About page this week, asking:

Fifty years old and feel led to start wearing a covering! Last month I felt lead to begin wearing long skirts or dresses after wearing jeans for many years. I think I’m scaring my husband, not to mention my children. Been a Christian for most of my life, but only recently have been moved to modesty. Any suggestions for dealing with my poor family?

Many ladies have transversed this path, Kim; you are not alone! Any sort of meaningful spiritual change as reflected in our daily lives will inevitably cause  discomfort for someone. They may not even wish to understand or care, for that matter. You still have to live with them. So , what to do?

From my experience, being absolutely clear and upfront in your motives is the best amelioration. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a full family meeting (unless this is what your tradition is) to declare your conviction. Start with your husband first. Start off with an icebreaker like, “You’ve probably noticed I am wearing skirts/dresses more frequently now. What do you think of it?” If he is truly freaking over the change, try drawing him out as to why. Maybe he might offer some suggestions as to style of dresses he likes better (modest, of course.) Men appreciate direct arguments. He may argue, but at least he knows where you stand.

Children, I’m guessing older, are another kettle of fish. “Mom’s off her rockers!” “Will she make us wear the same stuff?” Simplify the argument from the husband conversation above and make it clear that this is your choice. You might encourage your girls to follow your example, but they need to look at Scripture/Tradition and make their decision.

I hope this helps, Kim. Anybody else have some suggestions?

Overcoming Temptation

The best teaching I have heard on the subject of temptation. You can click here to get the rest of the series. I really needed to hear this today. Long story…but sugar has been getting the better of me the last couple of days.

Left-Brains Dominate

Brain Lateralization Test Results

Right Brain (36%) The right hemisphere is the visual, figurative, artistic, and intuitive side of the brain. Left Brain (48%) The left hemisphere is the logical, articulate, assertive, and practical side of the brain

Are You Right or Left Brained?
personality tests by similarminds.com

I am not surprised in the least!

Hey George Soros, Buy Us A Farm!

I stumbled upon this chart with the fifty largest charitable hedge funds on Wall Street. Mr. Soros, I picked you out of the line-up just because I recognized your name from some hazy memories of CNN news reports. I also hear you are a fellow Magyar. It looks like you are sitting on a rather large foundation, like one pillar in the center of the Acropolis. We have a suggestion for a tiny fraction of that robust portfolio.

Buy us a farm. Nothing fancy, mind you. It could even lack electricity and running water. The acreage can be a minimum of three open acres, but woods, a stream, and a couple of hills to build a hobbit house into would be ideal.

We’d love to raise goats or maybe a few cows so the community can become healthier through real milk. Jeff is pretty adept at speaking chicken, so there will be some fowl running around the place. Two mules are a must. I love gardening. You really haven’t lived until you have eaten a freshly picked baby green salad with sun-warmed yellow peppers!

It wouldn’t be just us living there, either. We plan on having at least one other couple/single mom/family move in. More hands make light work. I could tutor/homeschool any children on our property.

The return for your investment is to know that a small patch of God’s earth is very, very well tended. We will get off the grid as much as possible with our electrical/petroleum usage. You are also allowed to drop in at any time (with a modicum of notice) to see how the land and the people fare. You may eat at our table, drink from the spring or well, sleep in a guest room, or snooze in a hammock. I might even knit you a pair of socks for winter every year.

You seem interested in helping out the world. So, how about relocating some overly-educated landless peasants?