WARNING: Hanging by a thread

If my blogging seems loopy or uncharacteristically odd, I’m sorry.  It’s symptomatic of other problems going on behind the blog curtain.

My husband and I had a huge argument last night.  He’s anxious and worried about his son; it’s not as if there weren’t already enough reasons to be frayed around the edges.

But my husband and I don’t see eye-to-eye on this war.  He believes implicitly what he sees and hears in the limited amount of American press that he has time to catch.  He honestly believes we had to do something now with Saddam Hussein, and thinking otherwise is a betrayal of his son.  A quick, all-out no-holds-barred war will somehow keep us from another Viet Nam.

And I cannot believe much of anything I read in the American press, nor do I believe there was a clear and present danger requiring immediate action at the risk of tens thousands of American troops and hundreds of thousands of Iraqi civilian lives.   I believe emphatically that action should have been taken multilaterally, and that unilateral U.S. military action creates far greater threats over both short-term and the long run.   I do not believe the current course of action merits the risk of his son’s life, but I do not believe I support his son any less for believing this.

It’s possible my husband’s beliefs are coping mechanisms.   I can acknowledge that.  But I cannot accept his inability to see that one can support a warrior and not their war.

I don’t know how I’ll navigate this gap.  Maybe there is no navigating.

There are more casualties than those in the deserts and streets of Iraq.

11:36:50 AM    comment []

Verlanglijstje

Thanks to Harald, I’ve learned another Dutch word this past week.  “My birthday wish list” => verlanglijstje (please correct this if I misunderstood, Harald, thanks!).

My birthday is a long time off from now, near the end of the year.  I guess I could start a list, what the heck, it’s an amusement at a time when amusements are getting harder to come by.  (Don't we all desparately need amusement right now, a laugh to break the tension?)

I’m a pain in the *ss to shop for; I need nothing.  I have either incredibly simple wants (a good cup of chai tea makes me happy) or highly extravagant and impossible desires (camping in Patagonia won’t happen this decade).   There’s nothing in-between.  Clothes?  Nope, got too much now – especially since I’m not in need of my work wardrobe at the moment.  Jewelry?  Ditto.  Sweets?  Look at my hips, do they look like they NEED them or WANT them?   Car?  Not unless you’re able to drop 70K on me, and I’m just not holding my breath; my Honda's just fine right now.  Golf clubs?  Nah, I need to use the ones I have.  Pick it, I’ve got it or it’s redundant, excessive.

My family dreads having to find something to put under the Christmas tree for me or wrap for Mother’s Day or my birthday – because there’s little they can reasonably expect to get for me.  They don't want to make donations to my charities because they may not believe in them.  They’re not big on picking stuff off my Amazon wish list; it’s a little too impersonal or something.  Maybe it’s the stuff that’s on my list, like a jillion art movies or obscure world music they’d have to sit through if they got them for me.  Or perhaps it’s because I have more imagination than my hubby; he never asks for much, viewing Christmas and birthdays as inventory replenishment opportunities. Ugh.

I’m an incredibly fortunate woman with a frustrated bunch of gift-givers.

One of my closest friends has a knack for knowing what to get, regardless of the occasion, even when gifts are entirely unnecessary.  She’s bought me a scarf in Switzerland while traveling, which goes fantastically with my denim jacket (it's so cool, my daughter has taken adverse possession of it); chili peppers while traveling in Arizona; block print napkins from Basel; mulling spices while traveling in Sonoma.  Little things, but completely unexpected and pleasant surprises.  Not things one ever thinks of, or even asks for; serendipitous petite lagniappe.

Now, if she could just train the rest of the family on this skill…my daughter’s catching on, but she’s too young yet.  I imagine 20 years from now she’ll be the one surprising me with a replacement scarf from Switzerland.

In the mean time, the family remains tormented by my un-giftability.  My daughter drafted the Christmas list this past year, posting it on the fridge for everyone to see.  The rest of the family wished for something readily available, I remain the pain in the *ss. 

Not exactly something you can get, cash-and-carry, gift-wrapped.

But then, neither is the cat.

9:44:32 AM    comment []