Rhetorically hiding behind words

Well I just finished today's reading assignment and for the first time in 10 days of the new semester I am reading a couple somethings I DO know...how to size up a topic for a research paper. I get the process, having written for a few decades. My mind is rather relieved, having just finished my first math homework just minutes prior, to get a rest. The part not remembered is the how I am supposed to blog or journal about today's reading. So brb...

here it is:

Over the semester it will be useful for you to keep an ongoing journal of certain topics and ideas. These journals can be electronic, audio, video (your phone for example may serve as your video log), written, etc. You will be required to "submit" your journals periodically throughout the semester to receive credit for your work; this should be a copy, not the original.

There are four areas this journal should cover on a regular basis (in whatever order works for you):

• terminology > while the texts do provide a glossary to explain some terms listed in bold, many other terms will come up that you should keep track of. You may choose to simply list definitions and/or you may choose to track different ways the term gets used in different contexts and over time.
• commonplaces > you read in ARCS chapter 1 about commonplaces and how they are embedded in different communities and with different values. Track commonplaces as you notice them in the different communities in which you participate. What are the values associated with them? Are they contested? By whom? Have they always been common? And other such questions should guide how you track and reflect on these commonplaces.
• composing to learn > taking the example from DK p. 15 on "composing to learn," reflect at the end of each reading assignment on those things that you have learned using the questions on p. 15 to guide you. Not only will you want to do this for reading assignments, but also for the assignment sheets you receive for our different projects in class.
• Questions > this will, perhaps, be the most useful component of the journal in that you will want to note the questions that come up for you while reading the various class assignments. When you do this, it provides you material to use in the follow class period's discussion of those readings. Thus, you'll want ready access to this part of your journal each day in class.
  

There were two aspects of today's reading I did enjoy (were new) was differentiating between writing to learn and writing to communicate and using Google as a test of whether something is ready to write about.

I am at the stage of my life, although I am in school, learning...I actually want and need to write regularly so I know what I think. I have never understood the aspect of my brain that, when I sit quietly think how I am feeling, I go 500% blank. Give me a blank piece of paper, an empty screen and a keyboard...lo...there is no quieting me. Hiding behind words.

And...because a good son in law works for Google in adwords...hey yes!! I want everyone to Google everything...thank you, that is all...

Good rhetoric is good in a turquoise world!

Exquisitely happy to have learned the names of half-brained, unordered, substance-less arguments in my first week in Rhetoric class. To think the very things that have been bothering me for many weeks were named this week thanks to my class and along with a name, the possibility of a resolution. Here I thought I was the only person I know worried about the lack of intelligence in conversations and building arguments on half-truths.

Rhetoric began in Aristotle's time and is old old and so wise and healthy. Rhetoric is actually a process of intelligent dialogue. The process includes inclusiveness--the belief that every citizen has an obligation to bring their voice to the community discussion table; Good Rhetoric is agreement there will always be disagreements in life, we just need to learn to engage in them and find a way to come to consensus or agreement. Good rhetoric means good listening; good dialoguing and finding a way over the differences. Good Rhetoric means you want to solve problems and issues which are blocking progress. Good rhetoric is good.

Bad Rhetoric is Jerry Springer; former Crossfire show; any 2 or more person engagement where differences of opinion exist and people are yelling over the top of each other. With the deep political divide in our country...could this be more timely? Bad Rhetoric is devaluing the opinions of others or trying to reduce others through this devaluation.
My favorite piece was if you accept the principles of Good Rhetoric you are also accepting that a person's opinion does not the person make. My opinion is not who I am, its my opinion. I love that.
Plus the Prof is grand. Smart, opinionated, witty and fearless. I think a Republican student walked out of our good Sarah Palin bashing (just an example folks, but a good .... example).

In other developments 370 lit is an absolute hoot. The things we learn through BB (big brother) teleconferencing. I prefer a real instructor any time, but we are all getting along fine it would seem with the weird videoing. The Prof says, can you do a close up on this story here...so he draws pictures of middle english for us on paper and explains what thorns and other things are. The other part I am loving is that the class is a coveted one and I have a seat for it. I tried to get out of it, thinking I had already had this stuff, which I have, but the experience is priceless. Give me a Prof. with humor any day. Last class of the day, I leave school each day carefree and not wanting to go home.

Another highlight today was getting my toes painted turquoise.I just want to live in a turquoise world, thank you!

I am hoping, shall we say at 940 Friday, for a carefree weekend...ttfn

Thursday before Friday at midnight thirty

I can only account for a few details of this week; what I remember most is that it has been an unvarnished blur. A blur with edges of paperwork mountains that wont end; medical doctor and hospital settings and 300-400 level English college type reading then (happy happy) writing about it.

Even math has its own special blur. The kind where I am doing OK with it--a good sign, I am not whiting out until 40 minutes of the 50 minute class has passed; but the last 10 minutes where the math teacher unleashes his real self and gets all crazy about the many ways one can write the formula of converting Fahrenheit to Celcius, that's when I lose track of time, breathing, space. I come out of this 10-minute hypnotic fog only when I see other students packing their satchels and making to leave. Thank the Lord I get to leave too. I can't take it. Add to this math zelousy the instructor is asking for students to submit to having him take a photo for him on his personal camera and that he takes a photo of each and every paper submission each and every student gives him. This behavior sets off further uncomfortable bells and red white and blue flags in my head.

This week I have been supporting my husband, family members and friends of family in these medical settings primarily as the driver and the question asker, note taker and clarifying accompanist. There have been more wins than losses in this regard, so I accept the wins in that rendered treatment will provide direct benefits. Excellent. Husband took a wound to the belly via a broken and flying circular blade (dull but flying 200 miles an  hour). I wondered how it didnt saw him in half or impact some vulnerable body parts (hit above to the right of the belly button). The nurse spent most of her ER time taking history and cleansing sand out of the 3 inch wound. Poor guy!

I have to give a tremendous amount of credit too, to husband's primary doctor who is holding his professional ground with the hated L&I (Washington State Department of Labor and Industry: my new nickname for them is the Greatest Show on Earth!) people who tried to build a new case for claim closure or superficial retraining by having hacks do 22 min exams then reporting on them like they spent days getting to know better half and his issues.  The doctor said too much information doesnt jive with other outside information.  The Greatest Show on Earth info is wild, thoughtless and these L&I people think of themselves as God.

The restart of school has gone mostly well. No complaints worthy of spending time on. Being in the fray of three great English courses is a wonderful thing for my soul, brain and psyche. 

That is all.

Dancing everywhere!

I was told today its well past time to fill out an application to graduate. Well now, I should say so! It's been 30 years since the last time I was in college so I should say its well past high time!

Not sure if it will be Spring or Summer 2011, but I am already smiling wide at the prospect of finishing what I started more than THREE DECADES AGO!!!

Yip Yip Yipeeee!!!!



Three english classes, one math class this semester...two science classes, one math class next time....not sure after that.....what else is needed!!!
Yes exclamation points are necessary...its that big of a deal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Door made of heart

Out of sight but never far from mind lurks family lore...every family has unspoken secrets, truths and knowledge. It's the something different about your family that no one really talks about it; it lives with you, you grow up with it but it's never quite real. My older brother Rob, (I am second oldest of five) has a dad all his own while the remaining four of us share a provencial guy named Lloyd. Rob's dad was a local legend, a true Mr. America first runner up 1947; a cult body builder and traveling wrestler from Laguna Beach, CA. 

A blonde stud I believe is the proper term. (see left) The lore (which is really history and old truth) is our fiesty 1950s wild child mom fell for this overly muscled blonde guy while he was passing through as part of the regional wrestling tour. He went on to romance and marry her then install her in his Mom's home somewhere in the Seattle area. While there she became pregnant with said brother Rob.  

The shine fell off the knight's armor when Mom learned somehow that her shiny guy had a wife and another family down in California. So in a very hushed and no no 1950s environment she returned pregnant to her family in Eastern WA. She became a waitress with a thriving six-month son at the now defunct Piper's Cafe. 

Enter through the front of the cafe door came our Dad, Lloyd--who was a fine buck in his own style. A recent honorably discharged Navy guy who was living the single guy's life...fishing, winning dance contestsm driving fast cars and getting in and out of a fast marriage himself to the fast lady in town we only know as 'Evelyn.' 

Dad and Mom were both looking for something to make their lives stable. Thank you Piper's Cafe for the introduction! The lore is Dad fell in love with six-month old boy first then his Mom since Dad is a huge kid guy. The folks were married within a few months and I arrived nine months and 2 weeks exactly later followed by a sister a year later then two more brothers--which btw, has nothing to do with this tale of lore.

All through our growing up years Rob kept two tattered black pieces of paper taped to his wall. On these construction weight due of papers were torn and yellowed newspaper clippings of his real dad, Eric Pedersen. Rob didnt want to know anything about this  Eric until he married (projection on my part). But once he began to make inquiries he learned his dad had already passed, leaving quite a few children and his wife. I am abbreviating details of his journey and feelings (since I dont know many details) to find his Dad. But he finally joined Facebook just a few weeks ago and found a homepage dedicated to his real dad, Eric. It is maintained by real dad Eric's son Eric. Rob got the courage to contact Eric regarding their shared Dad.

As of this very day, there is an announcement posted on Eric's FB page introducing his brother Rob. My brother Rob is soaring with happiness. The happy is leaping off brother Rob's homepage and I can see and hear and feel so clearly how it is completing him.

The elephant in the room during all our lives (more than 54 years to date) was the unmet father of my older brother. His father will remain unmet but the family connection has been made. So the family lore has an ending and a beginning. I am leaping inside for my brother. It's fantastical. The lore can end now and my brother can live his life more fully. 

 This is the only formal photo of the five of us. Left to right, Bill, Jerrie, Cyndi, self, Rob

I give thanks to Piper's Cafe for having a front door and thanks to my Dad for walking through it to take my Mom and my brother into his life and for the generous hearts of my older brother's newly connected siblings for likewise opening doors made of heart for him. 

Let's stay happy shall we?

October Leaf

I checked the election results instantly when I got up this morning: Sen Patty Murray is carrying the State by nearly 50 percent over a ridiculously large field of contenders. I can breathe that the west side of the state is doing its job. She is lagging in my red neckest of counties where we live; the home of tea baggers who insist this is the  original tea steeping grounds.
A friend commented a few weeks ago how refreshing it is to meet a fellow Dem in this part of the world. It may be refreshing for him, for husband and I, but it's a torture to never be able to have a conversation about shared political philosophies (and yes we live here by choice). We have only had the Dem convo pleasantry twice in my 7 years in staunch Republican country.
The first was two Christmas' ago when we walked into my older brother's house during the holidays; my soon to be sister in law--a bright, fierce Dem was telling the table-full of Rep relatives that Obama, "...is my President; I voted for him, I am proud of it." Amen sister. We were proud to sit down at that table with her to help even out the numbers.
The second refreshing Dem conversation took place inadvertently this spring when my college roomies, spouses and my better half were relaxing at a remote Oregon hot springs. The conversation turned to politics. Lo, not a dissenter in the room. We found out after decades of separation not only did we all love obsidian rocks, geology, each other even more, but we shared the liberal poltics. That was refreshment.
Randomly speaking, October Leaf is the new color in the formerly 60s pink bathroom. It's extraordinary to find after 7 years of battling with the man who thinks white is a color, that he loves the southwest cinnamon color as much as I do.
More down the soon road.

Following the wise lady's words

I ADMIT IT!!
I AM A WRITING PROCRASTINATOR!!

The wise lady I see once a week told me today of all things I have been avoiding, writing should not be one. Start writing she said.
So I did. Rather I tried to about 30 mintues ago. One of my long time blogs has disappeared. I have no idea where it went, at all. Its off the charts nothing on blogspot. So there is nothing like trying to restart stalled writing when your internet tablet has disappeared.
Refocusing I opened up this poor imitation and hope I can repopulate it with some of my photos and thoughts that I thought would forever be available to revisit, until missing today.

Enough babble...its 100 degrees out and while waiting for the heat to deter so I can finish the little bit I need to paint outside, I just repainted the bathroom. Pink is gone say hello to SW Cinnamon. It looks much more warm and inviting. This means tomorrow I got rug, bathmat and curtain looking tomorrow after my chores in TriCities.

More soon...sure sure.