Lift Up Your Hearts!

I've learned to avoid food items labelled "no sugar added," because that usually does not mean the product is less sweet, but is artificially sweetened. When I picked up this bottle of ketchup, I expected to find sucralose, which I detest, in the ingredient list. I was surprised and pleased to see that the sweetener in this case was not sucralose, but rather stevia.

Ingredients: tomato concentrate from red ripe tomatoes, distilled white vinegar, salt, natural flavoring, stevia leaf extract, onion powder.

I had to laugh at the claim "Sweetness from PLANTS" on the label. Just what do they think sugar cane is, an animal?

But I got over it, and decided to try a bottle.

Much to my surprise, I loved it at first taste, and have so far had no cause to change my mind. It doesn't taste artificial, and has a brighter, fresher taste than regular ketchup. Time will tell, but I may be a convert.

Consider this: The election of President Trump may be all that stands between us and nuclear war.

Does that sound crazy to you?

Okay, here's something crazier: President Biden just authorized the Ukraine to attack deep into Russian territory using American missiles.

This, like encouraging the Ukraine to join NATO, crosses another "red line" for Russia. From the BBC article linked above:

In September President Putin warned that if this were allowed to happen, Moscow would view it as the "direct participation" of Nato countries in the Ukraine war.

"This would mean that Nato countries… are fighting with Russia," he continued.

The following month, the Kremlin leader announced imminent changes to the Russian nuclear doctrine, the document setting out the preconditions under which Moscow might decide to use a nuclear weapon.

This was widely interpreted as another less-than-subtle hint to America and Europe not to allow Ukraine to strike Russian territory with long-range missiles.

This is 'way beyond "poking the bear."

It almost makes me believe those who say there are many in our government (with both D's and R's after their names) who want us to go to war with Russia. Who want us to go to war with Iran. Who are actively pushing us into these wars.

That is no garden-variety crazy. That is pathologically insane.

I've said from the beginning of the 2022 escalation of America's involvement in the fight between Russia and the Ukraine that we seem intent on leaving President Putin no way to save face, to back off without being utterly defeated, which strikes me as stupid on any number of fronts. Who in his right mind could possibly want to set off World War III? Seriously. Why do we continue to push Russia into an ever and ever tighter corner? Desperate people—and desperate countries—do desperate things. This is no situation of "we think maybe Iraq has weapons of mass destruction." We know Russia has them, and we should not be leaving nuclear, chemical, and/or biological warfare as their only options.

Even if we could keep a confrontation to conventional warfare, do you think the American military is adequately prepared for such a fight, likely on several fronts? I have no such confidence. Certainly the American public is not ready. Military standards, recruitment, and satisfaction in the ranks are all suffering. If FEMA couldn't find enough generators to help out Appalachia after Hurricane Helene because we gave them to the Ukraine, what about all our military equipment that went that direction? Sure, we can rebuild with newer and better equipment, but That. Takes. Time. Time we may not have. And money we certainly do not have.

Do you really want to bring back conscription? Maybe if you haven't lived through the Vietnam Era you can't understand the devastation that the draft brought to individuals, families, communities, and the entire country. If you think we are broken and divided and hurting now....

"Bodily autonomy" has proved to be a powerful rallying cry on both sides of the aisle, with Democrats using it primarily to mean the right to have an abortion, and Republicans using it primarily to mean the right to not have a COVID shot. Everyone agrees that the government's authority over our bodies and those of our minor children should be extremely limited. Everyone except those who favor conscription, that is. 

Even that doesn't matter if the nukes start flying.

I'm praying that President Putin will remember that in a couple of months we'll have a new president, and be restrained in his response. New administrations can often be an excuse, welcomed on both sides, to break impasses—as when the hostages held by Iran for more than a year were finally released as soon as Ronald Reagan took office.

I suppose it's possible that this apparently unhinged action on the part of President Biden is actually a move calcuated to put incoming President Trump in a better negotiating position with the Russians. If so, I'd still call it more crazy than clever. But I'll be praying that it works.

I'm definitely still climbing out of battle-fatigue mode when it comes to writing. It's so weird. Normally I find writing to be energizing and restorative. I find it relaxing, even when it's also a struggle. Writing is one of the most important ways I keep my hold on sanity; writing is how I think. But ever since the election, my incessent and irresistable drive to write has gone into hibernation. Generally, I'm pleased with the results of the election, but I'm not dancing in the streets; I'm numb and exhausted. The last few months have been intense.

It may be weird, but at the moment it's a good thing. Too many other areas of life are demanding my attention! I know I'll be back to writing soon enough. But for the moment, I'm pulling out bits and pieces I've saved for just such a time.

This may not be the most important thing my father taught me, but it comes close to a universal truth.

Why is it that if you are trying to lose weight, one tablespoon full of ice cream will add five pounds, but if you are trying to gain weight, a whole day's worth of forbidden food makes not one iota of difference?

Let's honor our veterans—those who stand "between their loved home and the war's desolation"—by making our military into an occupation that attracts the best and the brightest, offers opportunities for education and advancement and a good future for those who need a hand up, provides well for their families, prioritizes their physical and mental health when they return home, and above all has the policies and direction to be a place where our service men and women can serve with honor and integrity.

That's the least we can do, and the alternative is a military draft. I lived through times of conscription, and don't ever want to see those horrors again.

Sometimes I find the channel Future Proof to be helpful, sometimes not. This video (14 minutes) is good because it delves into the complexities behind the new trend that it's better to sell drinks in aluminum cans than in plastic bottles. Because aluminum is far more recyclable than plastic. Right?

Yes ... but. Whether we're talking electric vehicles, energy sources, double-paned windows, or portable drinks, there's always a but. In life, there are no silver bullets, no easy answers. I like this analysis because it goes beyond the container and considers what goes into making and using it.

Actually, there is somewhat of a silver bullet in this case. He's talking primarily about bottled (or canned) water, and drinking tap water is absolutely the most planet-saving bang for the buck around.

Don't get me wrong. I was thrilled when they started selling bottled water, because I don't care for soda, and that's all that used to be served at events like group picnics and public events. In order to quench my thirst I had to bring my own water—and in those days nobody had today's ubiquitous refillable water bottles. The first time I saw bottles of water available at a picnic I jumped for joy.

I even use plastic water bottles at home. We absolutely drink tap water when we can, but we also keep bottles of water in the closet in case a hurricane (or anything else) threatens our water supply. I reuse bottles when I can: Put tap water into plastic bottles, freeze them solid, and voilà—pack them in your cooler to keep your food and drinks cold. The packaging is light and fits neatly in the cooler; as they thaw, they provide cold water for drinking; and when they reach the end of their useful lives, they can then be conveniently disposed of (hopefully recycled), with fewer guilt feelings. It's a win-win. Yes, I am concerned about whatever nasty things might be leaching out of the plastic, but you can't worry about everything all the time. And did you know that aluminum cans are lined with plastic? I didn't, until I watched this video.

Aluminum cans may be mostly recyclable, but you can't re-use them.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the rallying cry for legalizing abortion in America was that the procedure should be safe, legal, and rare. Since that slogan appears to have been abandoned, maybe we could pick it up for plastic water bottles.

I can't take credit for this, as it was inspired by something Bret Weinstein said in this DarkHorse Podcast (approximately 65 minutes in). But it's different enough that I can't make it a direct quotation.

It struck me this morning as both wise and widely applicable. As I've repeatedly said, we each have our part to do, and the results aren't up to us. But we can't know how close someone is to making a life-changing decision, and it would be good at the end of all things to discover that our own actions and attitudes have nudged people in a good direction, instead of hindering their progress.

Grace had her appointment with the NF1 (neurofibromatosis type 1) specialist this week, and the news is good.

The possible complications of having that rare genetic mutation (1 in 2500) are many and varied. Her very rare JMML (juvenile myelomonocytic leukemia, 1 in a million) is just one of them. NF1 is the elephant in the room that has had to take a back seat to the dinosaur in the room, so I was glad to get a specialist's view of the situation. (For Heather's full report, click here.)

The appointment with the NF1 doctor went well. One of her oncology doctors was also there, the one who works closely in the NF1 world. Jon didn't remember meeting the NF1 doctor, but it was right at the very beginning, during Grace's first hospital stay, when she was diagnosed. So, much to be thankful for from that visit. They are sure that her fracture is from steriod weakening and not NF1. The kind of bone issues that NF1 causes is not evident in her, and it would be by now. Several other NF1 symptoms are also ruled out for the same reason.

But there is still the possibility of developing brain tumors. This is why she is scheduled for eye exams every six months for the rest of her life. They are working on a trial of oral chemo that looks promising. Because there is no sign of brain/retinal tumor in Grace now, that study will be finished before she would even need it. And we pray that she never will! I think they said she'll get a brain scan every year, but they did not do one this time. She had an eye exam in June and will have one next month. And they asked about her cognitive development. The tumors really affect that, so we are reassured by her development there. Jon asked me to look up milestones for three-year-olds and the only things she is behind in are some gross motor skills like jumping/hopping and riding a tricycle. (She tried riding a tricycle the other day, and her legs did not reach the pedals!) I had already planned on taking her to the playground more often, but that now has to wait while her leg finishes healing. That is on the mend, she does not limp much at all anymore. She still has some flareups occasionally, but the curve is dampening.

So Grace is doing well! She had another bone marrow aspiration in Boston yesterday—routine, except that I don't call anything that involves general anesthesia "routine." Results will be back in about a week; we're praying that her cells are still 100% Faith's.

Fun quotes from the last weeks:

9/7/24 - Nothing like older brothers to help you develop cognition. When she was in an "answer everything with 'no'" mood: "Grace, are you dumb?" "No" "Are you not dumb?" "Not dumb."

9/11/24 - "Mommy, all done eat my eggs. Please wash it, my fork."

9/11/24 - "Hope 'wake now. Not sleeping."

10/26/24 - Nathaniel and I were talking about when Grace can shower and bathe now that her central line is out. Grace then exclaimed, "Swim! Me swim! Maggie P! You come. Hope come."

Monday, 11/4/24: The kids were doing a survey for fun. "What's your first name?" "Grace." "What's your middle initial?" [They helped her say 'Victoria' and that it starts with V] "What's your full name?" "Amazing Grapey Grace!!"

Here's Amazing Grapey Grace in her Little Red Riding Hood Hallowe'en costume; one of her brothers was the wolf.

I feel as if I could sleep for a week.  And not write another word for a month.  Neither is going to happen.

I won't deny that I'm relieved by many of the election results so far. Perhaps the most unexpected was the fate of Florida's most controversial proposed state constitutional amendments, one having to do with marijuana and the other with abortion. From all that I heard, they seemed certain to pass. But apparently enough voters, even if they agreed with the overall sentiments of the amendments, realized that both were over-reaching and dangerous. I'm not going to argue either point here; I'm just very pleasantly surprised. Florida's constitution is far too easy to amend, and I'm glad we escaped this. The same issues are likely to come up again as legislation, which is where they should be addressed.

As for the presidential race, I'm cautiously optimistic. And especially grateful for the Amish, who got 'way out of their comfort zones and voted, and for the people of western North Carolina, who quite literally went through hell and high water to exercise their rightful franchise.

Most of all, it is time to remember, as we should after every presidential election, that approximately half of our fellow-countrymen—our neighbors, co-workers, friends, and families—are genuinely saddened, frightened, and maybe deeply depressed by the results. This is not some football game; it is our country, our world, and our future. Celebrating a well-earned victory is appropriate; exulting in the streets, or otherwise gloating—anywhere other than among similarly-minded friends—is unkind. Whatever one may believe the essential battle for the health of America may be, it can only be won in human hearts; kindness and sympathy for those who are feeling disenfranchised might be a great place to begin.

Heroes are flawed, often deeply. Wounded. Maybe broken.

What if that's what it takes to make someone into the kind of person who can become a hero?

What if the person you'd never consider inviting to your dinner party turns out to be the one with the skills and the personality to save your life one day?

Bear with me here. The following diversion is relevant.

If there were no other reason for trying to save the endangered species of our planet, consider how many of our best healing medicines have come from nature. What if the habitat we wipe out is the source of the microorganism that will eventually cure cancer? Billions of people in the tropics owe their lives and health to a drug developed from a microorganism found in a soil sample taken from a Japanese golf course!

Discovered in the late-1970s, the pioneering drug ivermectin, a dihydro derivative of avermectin—originating solely from a single microorganism isolated at the Kitasato Intitute, Tokyo, Japan from Japanese soil—has had an immeasurably beneficial impact in improving the lives and welfare of billions of people throughout the world. [Here's the link, for the record, but it's a long and technical paper.]

What if the personality traits we're trying to eliminate turn out to be exactly what's needed to face a crisis we can't even see coming? If there were no other reason for respecting those who don't fit into our own insular social groups, consider that they may be the very people we need when the floodwaters rise.

What if the energy, the aggression, and the "toxic masculinity" we're trying so hard to breed out of our boys turns out to be part and parcel of what gives them the strength and the will to take on a hero's work?

I'm sure the men of the "Bikes and Beards" podcast (of which I know nothing beyond what you can see here) did not set out to be heroes. But when Hurricane Helene hit Appalacia, they stepped into that role as if they had been prepared for it. Maybe they had been.

Bikers? With beards and tattoos? Country folk, with guns? Who would you rather come to your rescue? A Hollywood celebrity? A college professor? A Supreme Court justice?

And yet heroes come in all shapes, sizes, and guises. I wouldn't expect Elon Musk to drive a truck full of supplies on mountain roads, but his Starlink system provides essential communication for devastated areas, from Appalacia to the Ukraine.

We need "all sorts and conditions of men." For selfish reasons, if nothing else.

I'm done with expecting heroes to be perfect. But let them be heroic!