Hobson's Choice
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Stem Cell Research
I'm sure that there are fascinating ethical discussions to be had about embryos. But I don't want to cede the grounds for discussion to a man whose response to the question of how many Iraqi civilians have died in the war was "30,000, more or less."
I distrust anyone who can use the callous phrase "more or less" to describe the violent deaths of actual living people, and it saddens me that this very same person devotes so much energy to defending the lives of embryos.
FYI: Here's the address of Yahoo's directory on stem cell research
5:20 p.m. - 2006-09-26
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Yarn
Signs that your knitting habit may be a little out of hand.
(1) Cereal moths invade the pantry and you're willing to let them have the food if they'll leave your stash alone.
(2) If you don't make it to the Y during the day and therefore have to go in the evening, your main anguish is, "But when am I supposed to knit?"
3:24 p.m. - 2006-09-25
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I've Got The Glues (Or Rather, I Don't)
How is that 90% of the crying in this household in the last two days has been because of glue? I am about to start sniffing glue just to take my mind off all the glue-y tears.
It started yesterday with a purchase of school glue and glue sticks. We had run/dried out, no biggie. Grab some glue from the store and go. It's not until we arrive home and actually try to start glue-ing that we discover that the school glue is bad. We can't get any glue out, and upon motherly exploration, we discover that the tip is MOLDY. Tears, wailing.
Now today, Eleanor has misplaced the glue sticks, so another crying jag in my bedroom. Because of course, tape cannot be used to make a construction paper bracelet. And stickers won't do any good. Worst of all, it's all my fault because you certainly wouldn't expect a four year old to keep track of her glue in the myriad cardboard boxes, corners, and general hidey-holes where she keeps things in this house.
ARGH!
3:19 p.m. - 2006-09-25
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Raising a Heretic
Another conversation in the car:
E: Everybody was a child. Even God. God was a child.
J: Yes, that's true.
E: Even Je... Christmas is Jesus's birthday.
J: Yes.
E: How old is Jesus now?
J: Well, I really don't... hmmm... I have to think about that. I don't know.
E: Well, I think he was three last year, and he's four this year.
J: I think you're right.
If we all carry a divine spark within, then it's certainly true that Jesus is four and 38 and 82. All those ages.
We take a heretical approach to religious instruction. We answer questions with more questions. We remember to say "I don't know" about ultimate truths. I tend to think that a lot of the Bogeyman Gods around come from preschoolers, who learn about such personified Gods from Sunday School, their parents, etc. Preschoolers' cognitive skills don't allow them to understand the abstract, and what is God if not the Ultimate Abstraction? Filling a preschooler's head with old men in nightgowns, watching us over all, alternatively blessing and smiting might help children today in understanding all this church business their parents take them to. The danger comes from clinging to that childhood version of God. I blame a Bogeyman God for the Traditional Values Coaltion who are currently calling for Congressional approval of "the torture bill" (see Molly Ivins' column )
To write to your Senator about the torture bill and to get a sample letter, please visit the homepage of the Friends Committee on National Legislation
2:28 p.m. - 2006-09-23
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Missing Emma
Coming home from Kroger's, Eleanor wanted to drive by her old school. I came to geography and maps fairly late and by accident, but Eleanor loves her various routes about town. And a drive by her old school is an old favorite. Since the last time we took that route home, Eleanor's friend Emma has moved out of that neighborhood.
J: If we go by your old school, we'll also be driving by Emma's old neighborhood. Will that make you sad?
E: Just a little bit sad. I am always sad all the time.
J: So it won't hurt any more to go by Emma's because you're always missing her.
E: Yes, I miss her all the time. I feel it in every part of my body.
And I thought, of course. Of course. Children grieve just like the rest of us.
2:17 p.m. - 2006-09-23
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