Fear Mongers and Fearmongering

I have to say, these days, everywhere you look, you will run smack-dab into my pet peeve: fearmongering. According to Webster’s Dictionary and Thesaurus.com, the word “fearmongering” doesn’t exist, so I suppose that means that I’ve made it up. This is the way I would define it: “Monger” is defined to mean a “dealer, hawker, merchant, peddler, or trader” and these days we all know what fear is all about, so when you put those together, a “fearmonger” would be someone who peddles fear.

No matter where you go in the United States (I can’t speak for foreign countries), you are barraged by fearmongering. The daily newspaper headlines are filled with dire warnings regarding the economy, wars, terrorism, crime rates, and for heaven’s sake, bed bugs.

Television shows and the accompanying commercials all tell you to fear growing old, getting fat, having a heart attack, having bad breath, not shaving close enough, or having mesothelioma or some other horrific, uncurable disease; that you might fall and not be able to get up, you might be losing your hair, that your teeth might be a bit yellow, and that the only sex you are likely to have will probably happen in separate bathtubs. And don’t even get me started on the drug advertising. I have absolutely no idea why someone would want to take a prescription drug for a skin condition when a side effect of that drug might be cancer. What, because you are afraid someone won’t like you because you have scaly skin? Go figure.

Movies are the same way. Last night, Harry and I watched a movie he requested from NetFlix - “From Paris, With Love.” John Travolta and John Rhys-Meyers starred in this convoluted story, and the movie was a roller-coaster of violence and mayhem, leaving one convinced that every person in one’s life could possibly be a spy or terrorist hell-bent on revenge. Now, that’s entertainment!

Maybe I should have been born a dog, a creature of the here and now, rather than a human being who should think deep, ponderous, scary thoughts of how bleak the future is. I suppose there are good reasons to be informed about the state of the world, and I have been told on more than one occasion that it isn’t good to hide one’s head in the sand and just plain ignore the workings of the government, politics and world news. I admit it: I dutifully vote whenever there is an election, but that’s about it. I avoid news programs (except for the weather) and I never read the newspaper (except for the comics). I promise you, when I find a news source that will accurately and plainly inform me, without bias or attempting to browbeat me into submissive, cowering fear, I will gladly broaden my horizons.

Until then, depending on the weather, you might find me in the garden, coaxing tiny green shoots of life from the ground; in the garage, happily making boxes and other things out of wood scraps; in the basement, fitting pieces of brightly colored glass together; or anywhere the dogs are, either playing with them or stroking their soft fur and quietly gazing into the bottomless well of love in their eyes. You might find me sitting on a quiet hillside, watching the sparkle of the sun dancing on a lake, or joyfully running and laughing with the dogs in the brilliant, blinding white snow the day after a big storm. And you also might find me on your doorstep, a pan of warm, fragrant cinnamon rolls in my hands.

That’s just the way I roll.

A Hike at Conestoga

I took the furkids for a hike at Conestoga Lake today. As a guilt/return favor, Harry came with us. See, I went to the Husker game with him last night (Nebraska college football, if there is anyone out there who doesn't know who the Huskers are). Anyone who knows me knows that going to a Husker game is just about the last thing I would want to do. I belong out here, not in a crowded stadium, deafened by the noise and jostled on all sides.



It was a beautiful day.



Tim had a great time. I bundled him up in his little coat, because he can't really regulate his body temperature any more.



Star taught JoLee how to wade. Even though it was only around 50 degrees, the sun was warm, and they had a great time exploring.





Everything went great until Tim decided to become his Independent Terrier Self and disappear. We all spent the rest of the hike looking for him, while he, no doubt, stood behind a clump of grass and laughed at us.













Harry finally found Tim, near the car. He'd gotten tired and decided to wait for us there. Harry put him in the car and honked the horn so I would know all was well.





A rat snake was also waiting for us by the car, sunning himself in the grass. He was a good four feet long, and although he was torpid, he could still move. As I took these photos of him, his black tongue darted out at me. He was beautiful.







So, all in all, it was a great hike. Lots of beauty, some excitement, some suspense - I suppose, when I think of it, everything you'd expect in a football game. But for me, this was much better.

The First Day of Winter

I know that, technically, the Winter Solstice is the 21st of December. The first day of Winter, and the shortest day of the year. But for me, Winter really starts when Daylight Savings time ends. On that Sunday, I always wake up at the normal time, even though it would be a perfect day to catch an extra hour of sleep. I’m pretty sure I wake up partially because my inner clock isn’t yet changed, but this year, it was mostly because you cannot change the inner clock of a puppy, and JoLee was up and raring to go.

So, this morning, at 5:45 a.m. I decided to take Star and JoLee for a good long walk, partially to wear JoLee out, and partially to allow Harry to sleep in on the last day of his weekend. I decided to walk to East Campus. Leaving Tim snuggled up to his Dad, in the pre-dawn darkness the three of us set out.

I don’t know what the technical term for the pre-dawn darkness is - in the evening, it’s called twilight - but I think that’s my favorite time of day. That time when the sun is either rising or setting is magical to me. The blue bowl of the sky glows at the horizon, either with the promise of a beautiful day, or the promise of an incredible night.

Most of the walk to East Campus is on the boring side, to be honest. A concrete sidewalk, with mowed grass on either side, and few, if any, trees. About a third of the way to our final destination, the area on the south side of the walkway becomes a small, wild tangle of trees and brush, mostly left to its own devices. As we walked along, JoLee suddenly stopped and sat down, head cocked to one side, listening. I stopped to listen too, and then Star joined us. I could hear deliberate footsteps in the dead leaves, and they seemed to be coming towards us. We stayed and waited, peering through the tangle of undergrowth to see what was on the other side of the fence. Finally, a movement caught my eye, and as we watched, a small opossum clambered up a nearby tree. There was a clump of what appeared to be leaves stuck to its rump, but as I looked more closely, I saw that its tail curled tightly around a cluster of leaves. I've never heard of such a thing, but all I can think is that the possum was adding bedding to its nest. I watched it move slowly and deliberately all the way to its nest. It was watchful, but unafraid. Simply wonderful.

So, now I’m sitting in the back yard in the sunshine. Star is so beautiful. The sun gleams on her coat, and her calm, knowing eyes squint when she looks at me in the warm sunlight. JoLee is gnawing on a piece of firewood nearby and Tim is curled right next to me on a rug. The sound of the wind in the white pine behind me soothes me on a molecular level, and the warmth of the sun soaks in through my eyelids and collects on my navy blue sweatshirt, warming me gently and thoroughly. I am totally content.

And I just wanted to share that with you.