Summer's Good News

Meet Pandora

Her super power? Invisibility.

Can you see her yet?

How about now?

Now disguised as a mild-mannered house cat.

Are you fooled?

Rethinking the Whole Castration Thing

Melanie requested to hear about my world view exploding, and I think I'm stable enough to write about a portion of the explosion now. If not, I can just erase the post. Unless I accidentally press publish instead then my psychotic rantings will promptly go to a few dozen blog readers. (Not that it has happened before or anything.)

"Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up."

I've got a problem with child molesters. It's a common problem. I hate them and would like them to die during an unmedicated castration. Child molesters are pure unmitigated evil and deserve pain. It's a nasty world view, but there it is.

A few years ago when my best friend's husband got caught red-handed with their mentally-challenged adopted daughter, I had a conflict. This was a man who I had known for years, a man who had offered my family shelter during a difficult homeless time. (Another long story involving the city and some building code violations.) The evidence was undeniable however. I took the girl in while my friend got her husband out. Then I watched in disbelief as law enforcement and CPS let the whole thing drop between counties.

The thing is... as much as I loved the child, I did not want her molester to die slowly. I wanted him to get treatment, I wanted him to stay away from other children, but I didn't want him dead.

Fast forward to early summer 2009. I do a Google search on a good friend from college to see what he's up to. Surprise! It's a molestation conviction. I cannot believe it. I don't mean that metaphorically—I really cannot believe it.

I email him and get the scoop. I believe the now-adult "victim" is lying, insane perhaps.

This man is one of my oldest and most spiritual friends, one of the chastest people I've ever known. (He has faults, but they mainly lie in his unwillingness to get a real job and support his family.) Now he's falsely convicted. The justice system sucks: a guilty molester wandering free and an innocent man bound for jail. I rant and rave. Rave and rant. What's it take to get a little justice in this world?

After I calm down a bit, I contact his ex-wife, who I love and respect. Such a sane woman, taken in by lies. Her pain must be immense.

It is. Two hours later, my heart is broken, my world upside down. I claim tragedy in a friend's life to explain my tears which for some unaccountable reason roll down my face anytime anyone says, "How are you?" (Awkward.) It's not a lie: My dear friend has lost his mind. My other dear friend has had her world and her faith shattered. All of their children have lost their father. That, my friends, is tragedy.

Should he be castrated, the life slowly ebbing from him while his soul is thrust down to hell? People who harm children are pure unmitigated evil, right? But he is my dear friend, not pure unmitigated evil. How can I process the unprocessable? He's innocent. Guilty. Innocent. My mind won't leave it alone.

I reread everything he's ever written. It's a lot: emails, letters, a book, a screenplay, his appeal paperwork. I read my college journals. And I decide he is telling the truth. This man could not have committed this crime. I'd buy losing his mind and committing a bank robbery, polygamy, even murder, but not this, not molesting a child. Not him.

Every instinct in me says she's right, that he's guilty. Every instinct in me says he's innocent. Clearly I cannot trust my instincts. I cannot trust my conclusions.

These things I do know. 1. Jami plays no part in this tragedy except as a weeping audience member. 2. I cannot know. Not in this life. 3. It's OK to believe they are both right even though it defies logic. 4. We probably ought to skip castration as a form of the death penalty. 5. I will feel this pain until God heals it.

I want to be able to wrap up this whole monstrosity in a nice little package of wisdom with a bow on top and a tag that reads, "Yes, it's heinous, but there's a moral to be learned here." Alas I have no wisdom; I'm still floundering. I'm praying wisdom comes along at some point. Praying hard.

Reality a bit much? Try Poetry.

Art by Molly Stanton

Overheard on a Saltmarsh


Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.

No.

Give them me. Give them me.

No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds,

Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,

Better than voices of winds that sing,

Better than any man's fair daughter,

Your green glass beads on a silver ring.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads, I desire them.

No.

I will howl in a deep lagoon

For your green glass beads, I love them so.

Give them me. Give them.


No.

—Harold Monro

Art by Anna Christenson

We're Happy When We're Helping

Misty--a dear friend of a dear friend--is Dairrien's mom. If it is possible for you to help, even a little, please do. I can only give $10, but it's all theirs.

I am trying to raise money to help with expenses that will encure for us during My Son Dairriens Surgery...Dairrien is 13 years old. He has gone through 3 surgeries and this will be his 4th... I am a single mom of 3 boys..So being able to leave our home for up to 14 days is going to be tough..The surgery is paid for through our insurance and Shriners Hospital.. But being a single mom,Money is tight,And I will be leaving my 1 child,and animals in the care of my mother.Who has to take unpaid time off work to take care of my home and child. It will take alot of money to be away from my home for up to 14 days..Gas,and food is my biggest concern,as I will not only have myself to worry about but my youngest son who will have to go with me.. I have to raise enough Money to help pay for my one child to be left with my mother,Food and extra money in case he needs anything.. And I need to raise enough money to Get to Shriners,and back..Along with enough Food Money to last up to 14 days..we also need to raise money for a follow up appointment that he will have a few weeks after surgery..and anything he needs to take with him to the hospital,back pillows,new set of lose clothing (sweats) for the ride home.. So all of this adds up to an amount that I just do not have!! Please Check out our website we have set up,to learn more about Dairrien's Condition and why he is having surgery... For The Love of Dairrien

Then They Got Big

Sadly, Penny turned into Indy.

Blindie, a sweet bird, a poor trade

Say bye-bye, roosters.

The Fortunate Six

Pitch—a Black Copper Maran hen.

Gimpy, a Barred Rock hen,

has nine toes on one of her feet,

poor girl.

My Dog Ate My Blog Post

Please excuse my absence.

The kids have been hogging the computer.
My camera died.
Facebook kidnapped my brains.
The keyboard was anointed with yogurt.
My worldview blew up.
The mouse stopped working.
Change and decay in all around I've seen.

Been processing the unprocessible.

I will be returning to myself shortly.

I promise.