What should be done?

In Oregon City this week, things are winding down in the trial of Carl Brent and Raylene Worthington, parents of a baby girl, Ava, who died in March, 2008 at age 15 months due to lack of medical care. As I write this, they've been showing autopsy photos of this little one in open court, causing tears, gasps, and making some people get up and leave.

The Worthingtons and their church don't believe in medical intervention, choosing instead to rely on their god for healing. From the testimony of the parents and others in the manslaughter trial, a large group from their church 'fasted and prayed' over the baby for quite some time.

This is an integral part of their belief system. They just don't believe in doctors and hospitals and medicine. I'm haunted by the testimony of a doctor who said that there are 'many more than a normal percentage' of children buried in the church's Cemetery.

Ava was born with cyst in her neck. It didn't start out huge, but it grew. And then she caught a bug that turned into pneumonia. Between the blockage caused by the cyst and the respiratory function being impaired from the pneumonia, she finally quit breathing and died, only minutes after the large group of people from the church laid hands on her and prayed.

The child's mother is quoted as saying that it was the "worst weekend of her life."

And I'm thinking it wasn't a great weekend for little Ava, either.

Now I understand that people have differing religious beliefs. I personally don't agree with most things found in religion, and I think we'd be better off without much of the craziness that can go along with it. But I figure as long as they're not hurting anyone, they should be able to pray, dance with snakes, rub blue mud in their navels... whatever religious trappings they want.

But where do we, as a society, draw the line at not interfering in someone's right to practice their religion as they see fit? That poor little baby was hurting plenty before she died. And not able to defend herself or ask for help. Isn't it just horribly wrong that the only exposure she ever had to a doctor was post-mortem when they cut her open to find out why she had died?

And if these parents are found guilty of manslaughter, what should the penalty be? They're not a threat to society in general, but they're definitely a threat to their own children, and by association, the other children born into that sect.

What do you think?

I have my opinion of what should be done to them written up for tomorrow, but I'm curious about what other people would do.

Thoughts?

Here's a link that contains more information:

Manslaughter trial begins for 'faith healing' parents Health kgw.com News for Portland Oregon and SW Washington

So last night

Around 1:30 this morning, actually, just up the street, a bunch of stupid assholes got into a fight at a park.

The argument apparently drifted across the street to Shithole Acres, the nearby ghetto apartment complex. A couple of guys got shot. Last I heard, they're going to survive.

It was the lead story on the morning news. One of the breathless plastic people was reporting LIVE!!!! from the scene.

Visible behind her were several police cars, and yellow crime scene tape, cordoning off the area. Five officers, two in uniform, were standing behind their cars, sipping coffee and chatting.

Our intrepid reporter started off with, "And you can see that this is a very active investigation!"

Um. Honey. Did you happen to look behind you before you started this report? Because a bunch of guys standing around and talking requires a different adjective. Active just doesn't quite cut it.

And now, at 7:33 a.m., a full six hours after the incident, (You know... after the victims are gone, the tape is down and everyone has gone home...) a swarm of helicopters is circling over the area. Over and over and over.

How the hell does this help?

In a related story, the night before last a man was found dead in his apartment in a different area of town. Late yesterday afternoon, they released his identity and showed his photo on the news. The photo was a recent police mug shot of one scary looking scumbag.

Am I the only person out there who doesn't feel too terrible when another criminal is taken off the streets? I mean, I think death without a trial is a little drastic as a crime-stopping measure, but I can't find it in my heart to cry over it.

And in Ohio this morning, a criminal with Oregon connections was executed. He killed two people here in Oregon, as well as killing people in Ohio and Alaska. From KGW's website:

His Ohio defense attorney, Dennis Sipe, had argued that the state should pay a neuropsychologist to examine Fautenberry, whose last mental exam was 13 years ago. Sipe contended that Fautenberry should not be executed because he has brain damage from a childhood accident and from an injury while serving in the U.S. Navy.

Brain damage. Okay. If you say so. Haven't we heard stuff like that before? "Oh poor Marvin, he had a bad childhood/brain damage/post-traumatic stress so he can't help that he likes to cook and eat his victims. We shouldn't put him to death, we should try to understand him. Help him.

Sorry. If John Fautenberry was a danger to society (and he is.. or rather was), then how would psychological exams at our expense have protected us from him? I'm pretty sure that he'll never again shoot anyone in the head. I'm very much okay with that.

I'm probably not a very nice person.

Out

Not me.

My back.

I was all set to go to Tami's house and dye.
(Yes, I phrased it that way on purpose.) Once I have moved my back into its former pain-free position, I still plan to mix that dye and hang out with Tami for an afternoon.

So I woke up a little after seven AM and could not get out of bed. Now my back was a little sore Saturday night after walking around a couple biggish neighborhoods and looking at yard sales, but it felt like a good night's sleep would put it right.

Evidently not.

So Eric made me take one of the pain pills I thought I was done with forever, and after that, it was still an hour before I was able to get out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom.

It's not the worst episode I've ever had, and if the past is any indication, I should be fine by about Thursday.

This is okay, I won't be missing work because I'm not scheduled this week. I'm guessing that the news that I am released to come back to work didn't make it to Sunshine before she did the schedule. Or at all.

::sigh::

I plan to visit the summer program site this week and talk to Sunshine about running my own site this year anyway, so I'll let her know then that I'm ready to come back to work. I look forward to saying hi to some of the kids, too.

I don't know what Sunshine will say, because I know she's counting on me to run our site while she takes over for our program administrator who will be on maternity leave until December. We shall see.

I also filled out an online application with another company that does the same thing as the one I'm currently working for, but in a different school district.

I feel some changes coming up.
I don't know if I like it.

What a bunch of bull!

I must begin by saying I've always hated the writings of Ernest Hemingway.

I think he was a terrible writer. I find his work obscure, boring, and frequently misogynistic (not that I can blame him, given what we know of his childhood.)

It's beyond me why anything he wrote was ever published... and why it's considered 'classic literature'.

Ptui!

In The Sun Also Rises, he mentioned the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. This awakened a latent deathwish in many young males (I think most women are too smart to do this) that continues to this day.

The annual event draws tourists from all over the world. Every year, at least one person gets hurt or killed. This year, someone died. Man killed in Pamplona's running of the bulls - CNN.com

Is it wrong for me to hope that he died before he had a chance to reproduce?

And on the home bullshit front, yesterday afternoon I was hanging out, waiting for Eric to come home (he had to work for part of the day) when a truck pulled into my driveway. One of those refrigerator type trucks. HomeMeatMarket.com painted on the side. He walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. The doorbell is about a foot from the NO SOLICITING sign. I could see him, but because of the black security screen door and curtains, he could not see me. I stood there and watched him. He waited about 30 seconds or so, then stepped off the porch and went to the other entrance. He rang the doorbell again. (and I was struck by just how deaf Maggie has become, she TOTALLY did not hear it.) I ignored the doorbell. He finally got into his truck and left.

I went to the website and sent them this email:

"I have a no soliciting sign on both entrances to my house. I did that on purpose. I don't like being bothered at home.It's the place I go to escape from the world.

About 12:45 on Saturday afternoon, (today, July 11th) one of your trucks pulled up in my driveway, parked, and rang my doorbell. When I did not answer the door, he walked to the OTHER door and rang that doorbell, too!

I have no soliciting signs because I do not wish to be approached by sales people or bible thumpers. (and those Bible Thumping Sales People... they're the worst! Ha.)

So my point for today is, please do not ignore the no soliciting signs."

Any bets on whether I get a response? Sheesh.

Comment of the Week

I don't know how many blogs I read, because I haven't counted them lately. But there are several. Often, someone posts something that I'd never thought of before... or has a new take on something I'd given considerable thought to and never seen from his or her perspective.

I read blogs from Christians. Atheists. Homeschoolers. Left wing. Right wing. Crafty people. People with a lot of anger. People who write funny stuff. Single folks. Married. People who have varying degrees of writing ability. They all have things to say. It's a huge variety of people and viewpoints. It's definitely expanded my horizons.

I can't read a blog without reading the comments people leave.

I really enjoy the comments I get, too. I love reading them.

Sometimes the comments I read elsewhere or get here at Casa Mental are funny or profound or come from such a unique angle that I go 'hmm' all afternoon.

So today starts a new feature for my blog. I won't guarantee it's a regular thing, but when I find a comment here or elsewhere that makes me do one of the above (smile, go hmm, think...) then I'm going to link it here as my Saturday post.

Today's comment appeared on my blog Thursday. It came from Gail at Tales of Homeschool
Gail's blog features a lot of things, including two perfectly lovely daughters with hair that occasionally looks like worms .
(You have to go look at the photos on this page to understand.)
And I'm still tickled that she posted that picture just for me.

Anyway. In response to my post Know what I hate? Gail left a hysterically funny comment. It made me snicker all afternoon. Had the same effect on everyone I shared it with. And sitting here writing this post, it made me laugh again.

So what do you think?

This article What's so wrong with being selfish? - CNN.com
was posted on CNN last night. In a cursory reading of the comments, I found that many people agreed with the author... and a bunch of really bitter people did not.

I can't understand why anyone feels like her choice not to reproduce is a personal affront. Who cares? Really?

There are many people who had children who really should not have children, if you ask me. (And of course you want to know what I have to say about it, right?) I sometimes wish on their behalf that birth control could be retroactive.

:)

Eric and I had been married more than six years when Matt came along. He was a planned child. Six years later, we had Lyssa. Also planned. That worked for us. I love my kids and I'm glad we have them.

But you know, by the time we'd been married a year there were many subtle and not-so-subtle hints from family members that we really needed to be getting started with the whole reproduction thing.

It used to really annoy me, since they were basically telling me what to do, and it was my life, dammit!

So I agree 100% with the author and think that reproduction (or not reproducing) should be a personal choice, and that no one else has a right to decide that for anyone. I do not think a person who decides not to have children is selfish because of it, either.

What do you think?

And is it just me, or are people waaaay too involved in other people's business? Why do we feel threatened when the choices others make don't look like our choices?

Know what I hate?

Lots of stuff. And this is just today's list.

I hate:


Clicking on a story on CNN or my local news stations, thinking I'm going to read it, and having a video show up instead.
Having that same video start with a goddamn commercial. I don't watch television news because I don't like commercials. I don't like them at my computer, either.

All the press coverage about a certain celebrity who was born a black male and died a white female. His exterior was merely a physical manifestation of the turmoil he lived in his entire tortured and abnormal life, and he's dead. Shut the hell up about him already and quit being stupid.

I hate the basketball tournament that goes on across the street at the school most summer evenings. I would not mind just people playing basketball, but the cars pull up playing the Mexican polka loudly, and then proceed to disgorge 15 people from each vehicle.

Those people drop their garbage all over the place and they piss on the playground! (yes they do... and I have witnessed the kids squatting in the bushes next to the school building, too.)

Two nights ago, about seven boys from age 14 down to five or so wandered over from the playground and hung out in front of our house on the sidewalk, talking and swearing loudly. Eric happened to be looking out the window when the three smallest kids started climbing on his work truck! He shouted at them, and they got down. The older kids looked a little sheepish. And well they should!

So should the negligent parents who were paying NO attention to the kids at all.

The basketball game goes on until it's getting dark. Then, as they all finally leave (after we've gone to bed), 27 versions of that same polka blare out through the neighborhood. I don't care what color you are or what kind of music you like. I just think you're one rude asshole if you have allowed your children to shit on a school playground, drop their candy wrappers and drink cups everywhere and your music is loud enough to vibrate my windows.

I hate the occasional clumsiness that I'm plagued with. Last night, I sat down to take off my shoes and socks. The left sock was all balled up and I pinched the top between my thumb and forefinger, made a fist and gave it a brisk shake. And bashed my fist into my left knee. Which happens to be the one still healing from surgery.
A week ago I would have ended up on the floor over that one. Ouch.

Waking up during PMS week.

Trying to fall asleep during PMS week while there's all kinds of noise going on across the street.

PMS week in general.

Balls and Dye

Remember why women rub their eyes in the morning?

Because they don't have balls to scratch.

Using that admittedly faulty logic, I've decided that birds chirp in the morning because they don't have balls to scratch, either.

It must be an adequate substitute because they make a lot of noise for quite some time before going out for their morning grub.
Ha. Get it? GRUB!!

And that old saying about the early bird and the worm just proves that the worm should have stayed in bed.

I had to roll over and scrounge around for earplugs this morning. The avian chorus was quite loud and proud. What a waste of energy to get up at that hour and sing.

Geez.

I slept like an exhausted rhino for most last night. Got up once to get rid of some used water, but fell back asleep immediately. I think it helped that the room was chilly and my electric blanket was really warm.

Ahhh.

But then Eric came in to wake me up at 6:15, and I *really* did not want to get out of bed. I still don't want to be up and it's an hour later.

I did the 50th anniversary party invitations yesterday.
I put a wedding picture of my parents in the center and the particulars above and below it.

For some reason, my computer/printer in the living room don't interact properly. Probably because the damn computer runs Vista. So no matter how I cajole, plead, beg or swear, the printer utterly refuses to print more than one copy at a time.

So I clicked print and go and print and go and print and go about 55 times. The printer queue was quite long. Took forever.

::sigh::

Then, the envelope printing program refused to take the names from the address list in the Word program, so I had to copy/paste every single address and print the envelopes. Also one at a time.

That little project took me all afternoon, basically, although Lyssa and I did run to Sprawlmart and Goodwill for a bit. But, the invitations are done, they look good and they're going out today. I'm pleased with how they turned out, and hope my parents like them.

On the happy side of things, I put in a big order with Dharma Trading yesterday and bought tie dye supplies. LOTS of them. I got an email yesterday afternoon to let me know the order has already shipped. I love Dharma... they're prompt and accurate and when you call their toll free number, you get an actual human on the line...and that human speaks English as their first language!

My parents are friends with a nice couple where they live, and the tie dyed shirts I helped Mom make last summer have aroused great envy. Every time my mom or dad wear their shirts, the lady says "I want your shirts!!"

So my mom said, "Well, I'll tell my daughter next time she tie dyes to make YOU some, too."

Not that I mind. It really is fun, and the quality of the materials make the finished products very nice. What usually ends up happening is that I make so many projects over a one or two day period that the 'bug' is satisfied for another year or so and I don't want to make any.

This time, although I swore NEVER AGAIN, I'll be doing a set of king sized sheets and pillowcases for part of my mom and dad's anniversary gift, five shirts and at least five pairs of socks. It doesn't sound like much until you really get going on it, then you realize what a huge undertaking it is. King sized sheets are, well, big. You know, king sized. It takes three people to do the initial roll or fold because wet sheets are heavy. I will blithely press my friends and daughter into service. It's in a good cause, right?

I plan to take some pictures of the process this time. It's not difficult, but there are some tricks to making sure your project comes out bright and well done.

Tami and her lovely daughter will be joining me and my lovely daughter in a tie dye bacchanalia. We sent our order in together to save on shipping. We'll be going to Tami's house and make an afternoon of it.

Can't wait.

Then, I'll make up some bottles of dye and haul it all to work at the end of the summer. The kids love doing it, and last year's projects turned out beautifully. Several of 'my' kids wore their shirts to school during the school year and were very proud. You could tell they enjoyed the envious comments of the kids who weren't in summer program.

It's an experience teaching 30 kids at a time how to do tie dye, though. Only a trained professional should even attempt it.

Which of course leaves me wondering how *I* end up in these predicaments.

On the road again

Not me.

My boy.

He's off for ten fun-filled days in Butthump, Oregon. (aka John Day.)
He's made it an annual event. He goes to visit my parents for a week or two every summer.

I'm really glad that he has a good relationship with his grandparents. I know now that the time I was able to spend with mine was a wonderful gift, but back then I didn't appreciate it as much as I do now.
I miss all of them so much.

Every year, I worry about him taking the five hour drive all alone. I worry about the other people on the road, I worry about car trouble, I worry, I worry, I worry.

My mom says that she has never stopped worrying about us, although I don't think she's as obsessive as I am. Perhaps it's easier when the kid is nearly 50 years old? Dunno. But I was glad when he called me a little after noon yesterday to let me know he'd arrived safely.

I was on the road a bit Monday myself. Getting pieces of paper from the city to deliver to the mortgage guy, (more on that tomorrow) a trip to Office Depot for paper and matching envelopes to make the invitations for the 50th anniversary party we're throwing for Dad and Mom next month in Butthump, and a trip to Goodwill.

Finished by stopping in at the local zip and clip for a haircut.

Twisted my knee a little bit getting out of the truck, then whacked it on the door frame while going into the salon.

::sigh::

But that's why they invented pain pills.

And now, a word from our sponsor

I know, I was down and grumpy yesterday.
I'm not in all that great a mood now, really.

But this was so cute I had to share.

Maybe if I watch it a time or two, I'll feel better.