I have mentioned before that I am the product of two hermits. It is not a bad thing to be when you live on an island with a year round population of about 3-4000 people. When I began hanging around on Facebook, my profile picture was a T-shirt I bought that stated, "When I grow up I want to be a hermit". My sister told me that "hermits don't join Facebook". Although she is very smart, in this instance she was wrong. What better way to get a small dose of people, entirely under your control, where you don't actually have to see anyone ( or get any germs)?
But, even hermits, or at least those like me, at times seek like-minded individuals . I have a small group of friends who, at any given time, don't leave their homes for days, ignore a ringing telephone and pretend they don't hear the knock at the door.
I have decided to call us A Haven of Hermits in the same vein as A Murder of Crows or, as in the name of my art blog, An Exultation of Larks.
Well, the Haven convened last week and land sakes, (gosh, that is a great thing to say!) did we have fun! We actually met two nights in a row, perhaps setting a world record for hermit behavior. Naturally we will not be seeking recognition for this.
The first night we met at a local bar and talked quietly about Edna St. Vincent Millay, Pablo Neruda, books and music. It was a mellow, warm and loving respite in a semi-raucous environment.
Much to our surprise, we got together again the following evening.
We had a lovely rock fish dinner with a decent red wine and played charades. Yes, charades. We were not good at it. We simply could NOT adhere to the "no talking" rule. Ironic, huh?
Lest you think we are simply not very smart, YOU try to act out The Girl from Ipanema.
The hysterical giggling was just what I needed; what we all needed, and enjoy small bites of from time to time.
Those small bites sustain us; we don't have big appetites. They are an amuse bouche, and they are filling.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
My refuge
I have not been to the beach all month. That may account for some of the torpor I've been experiencing. Why, when it is less than 5 miles from my driveway to sand between my toes?
Because the Nor'easter we had a couple of weeks ago caused an enormous amount of damage, and the rain keeps coming, disrupting my plans to go out there and see what is left.
I can go here, to see what is going on.
But seeing it first hand is frightening me. Today appears to be the only day this week there will not be rain; so do I stay or do I go?
Well, I went. And despite the loss of the parking lot, it is still my refuge... it still acts as my muse. Even 1/2 hour there with the sun pouring down, and the snow geese screaming renews me.
Because the Nor'easter we had a couple of weeks ago caused an enormous amount of damage, and the rain keeps coming, disrupting my plans to go out there and see what is left.
I can go here, to see what is going on.
But seeing it first hand is frightening me. Today appears to be the only day this week there will not be rain; so do I stay or do I go?
Well, I went. And despite the loss of the parking lot, it is still my refuge... it still acts as my muse. Even 1/2 hour there with the sun pouring down, and the snow geese screaming renews me.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
A semi-book review
I eagerly await new books written about families coping with autism. I am fortunate enough to share boxes and more boxes of uncorrected proofs with my daughter who is friends with the owner of a bookstore.
I found Cowboy and Wills among the last haul. This is not the book to read to find out what to do when your child is diagnosed with autism. The subtitle, A Love Story, tells the truth; Wills is a charming, bright young boy who develops a lovely relationship with his golden retriever.
I have seen the struggles, despair and desperation families undergo following a diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder in their child, so I am always reluctant to criticize decisions that are not what I would have chosen. I have not had to choose; I have not had to wade through an ocean of conflicting information, fight with a school district or change my entire life around to accommodate scores of therapists in my home. I have helped families to do that but it is most emphatically not the same thing.
I am a proponent of the scientific method and have used Applied Behavior Analysis with the children with whom I have worked for over 20 years. Some families can do this, and some cannot. It is probably among the more difficult therapies one can choose.
One of the best books written in the last two decades is Let me Hear Your Voice by Catherine Maurice describing her search for treatment for her children.
Read them both, whether you have a child or family member on the spectrum or not.
If you are a parent of a child with autism, do your research; go to the websites regarding your particular state laws about special education, visit families using a variety of therapies, get a support system in place, go online and learn about the therapies available, and do not be afraid to demand what is your due from your school district. A dear friend and colleague of mine tells families, "Ask for the moon, and if you are lucky you will land on the roof." Do NOT settle for the little bit they say you are entitled to under the law- they NEVER tell the truth about how much more you can get. And remember, early intervention is the key.
I found Cowboy and Wills among the last haul. This is not the book to read to find out what to do when your child is diagnosed with autism. The subtitle, A Love Story, tells the truth; Wills is a charming, bright young boy who develops a lovely relationship with his golden retriever.
I have seen the struggles, despair and desperation families undergo following a diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder in their child, so I am always reluctant to criticize decisions that are not what I would have chosen. I have not had to choose; I have not had to wade through an ocean of conflicting information, fight with a school district or change my entire life around to accommodate scores of therapists in my home. I have helped families to do that but it is most emphatically not the same thing.
I am a proponent of the scientific method and have used Applied Behavior Analysis with the children with whom I have worked for over 20 years. Some families can do this, and some cannot. It is probably among the more difficult therapies one can choose.
One of the best books written in the last two decades is Let me Hear Your Voice by Catherine Maurice describing her search for treatment for her children.
Read them both, whether you have a child or family member on the spectrum or not.
If you are a parent of a child with autism, do your research; go to the websites regarding your particular state laws about special education, visit families using a variety of therapies, get a support system in place, go online and learn about the therapies available, and do not be afraid to demand what is your due from your school district. A dear friend and colleague of mine tells families, "Ask for the moon, and if you are lucky you will land on the roof." Do NOT settle for the little bit they say you are entitled to under the law- they NEVER tell the truth about how much more you can get. And remember, early intervention is the key.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Edna St. Vincent Millay
"Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
huh
In an irony reminiscent of one of my first jobs (aside from babysitting) where I worked at a ski shop fitting skis and boots when I had never been skiing in my life, I now work at a fitness center, and I don't really work out. I say not really but actually, I don't aside from yoga.
I keep meaning too, I truly do, but I don't. I am afraid of the treadmill. It is one of my goals to overcome that fear.
And another thing... I have been plagued by this idea; did someone just fantasize about mad, deep, powerful and lasting love, then write about it and now we all believe in it, and expect it OR is it real and I am really bad at it or have not found the real thing? Given the state of things around here, and experiencing divorce myself it isn't surprising that I am leaning toward the latter.
At the fitness center, several long-married couples come in together to work out. Some have been married for 40 -50 years and it is obvious they are still in love. And in like, as well. Mind you, there are some where the tension is thick and wide, but for the most part I see and feel love, respect and enjoyment of one another. Some days it makes me weepy. I'm trying to change from being depressed by it. Right now, that's a bit hard for me.
I keep meaning too, I truly do, but I don't. I am afraid of the treadmill. It is one of my goals to overcome that fear.
And another thing... I have been plagued by this idea; did someone just fantasize about mad, deep, powerful and lasting love, then write about it and now we all believe in it, and expect it OR is it real and I am really bad at it or have not found the real thing? Given the state of things around here, and experiencing divorce myself it isn't surprising that I am leaning toward the latter.
At the fitness center, several long-married couples come in together to work out. Some have been married for 40 -50 years and it is obvious they are still in love. And in like, as well. Mind you, there are some where the tension is thick and wide, but for the most part I see and feel love, respect and enjoyment of one another. Some days it makes me weepy. I'm trying to change from being depressed by it. Right now, that's a bit hard for me.
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