A dear friend calls to check on me when I vent out here.. that's very sweet. 

It's hard to explain why I don't write when I'm happy! I'm certainly not UNhappy, I'm one of the luckier beings on the planet. Life isn't perfect, but I'm here to complain about it. 

I think the perspective of wanting firearms may seem paranoid, to those who have not lived with them. It's hard to explain that I *HAVE* been happy to have my wheelgun at my side, many times. 

I don't want to live that way again, but my upbringing and my ornery nature dictate that, should we end up in a place where public safety is a kind of sick joke (even in your own home!) I intend to be prepared. 

The referral cg got to Arlington VA could be lots of fun! Public trans and everything! Woot!

I'm really not interested in "normal American" things. I don't care to shop, I never had enough money. I don't care about commercial sports, what does that have to do with my life or values? no clue. 

Football? complete bore. Basketball, volleyball, golf the same. Does nothing for me, not interesting. 

Starbucks? Oh spare me. Lavazza, Tchibo, Segafredo! 

Chain restaurants: Crap aimed at separating you from your money. 

I'll hit local suppliers of seasonal local goodies, take it to my own kitchen, and make something wonderful! 

By the way, WalMart is of no interest, either. 

I'm hip to Ikea, though! looking for a way to buy stock in that sucker!

The options are these: Houston (ack! except for family, old friends, and a very interesting colleague for me) Suffolk MD (sounds nice enough) Sacramento (gangs galore and hot, yuk) Kansas City (unaffected by evolution since Clan of the Cave Doofus)  DC (well, lots of folks needing my help, public trans, and the Smithsonian!) Idaho Falls (in the lap of my beloved Rocky Mountains! everybody rub your lucky pennies, do your lucky dances, and so on for us on this, especially if you want to visit!) Fort Irwin (in the heights of the Mojave) Del Rio TX (bird and butterfly watching, beautiful SW TX, and I do want to pick up Spanish again) Atlanta (is this US crime central? Ack! my last choice at best!) San Antonio (has stolen much of CenTex water to run their Riverwalk, not my fave city and every highway is San Pedro)  Berkeley CA Lawrence Livermore Lab (whoa, how cool is THAT? the birthplace of Structural Integration Exploration! otherwise another damn big city).

The constant question is.. aren't you glad to go home?

Define home.. If it's somewhere I'm safe, and I know the expectations and possibilities, then the answer is, Oberpfallz, Germany. 

If it's where I came from, and I know to expect danger, have saved money for a sawed-off 12-gauge loaded with buckshot handy. 

If concealed carry is legal, I will train for it and do so. I have a good teacher. 

When I came over here, I gave up all my firearms. 

It was hard. But when I realized how ridiculously safe I was, I let it go. We have a door intercom, and my German is good enough to ask the right questions.  

I don't look forward, to having to carry again. I loved my 357.. but it's too big to really carry. Even with a 4-inch barrel. Ah, my beautiful Ruger Safety Six with nickel finish and Pachmeyer grips.. 

Meanwhile... up to this time.. we've never had to think about it. 

Think about that. 

It will get worse, before it gets better.  

Do you feel lucky, punk?

Would you pay more tax, to not have to test your luck in gunpowder?

We're looking at where we are headed. 

 Back to the USSR.. no, wait.. the USA. 

If you have to deal with the TSA, no diff. If they want what you got, they take it. Some association of kleptomaniac smokers and drinkers got a government contract. All the booze, lighters, tweezers, nail clippers and pocket paraphernalia you can snag! All that, and gummint bennies! Woo! 

So, once we pass the hazing gauntlet of the TSA, we can "come home". After we endure the subtle taunts about spending so many years overseas making us traitors. No, really, I've gotten that. 

Gee, supporting the troops by leaving home and everything we knew, our language, our culture, our family, is treasonous? better take that damn magnet off your gas-sucking, blood-letting SomewhatUselessVehicle. 

Nevertheless, we have loved our time here. We leave the garage unlocked, and if we space out, and leave the garage open, nothing goes missing. We never worry about being mugged. Today we got excellent German black beer for about 20 cents American per bottle. People are pathologically honest. When the Euro first came along, I watched older Germans helplessly open their purses to the clerks in the stores, who would expertly pick out the correct payment, and just as expertly drop in the correct change. 

So, now we go back to the land of drivers who can't successfully pick their own noses, much less steer machinery, and a populace as apathetic as it is starved of honesty.. 

Would YOU be thrilled?

We're not. 

Oh, did you get the news flash about the US trailing just about Every Civilized Nation in terms of health care?

It's a quarter of an hour down, and I'm beating down the gate. 

I'm ready to tear out, into the future. My feet hurt, but that's not stopped me before. 

I'm beaten up by my own expectations, but I've got more. 

I'm pacing, chomping at the bit. 

Ready to go, ready to go forward. Ready to let go of a situation which has let us down. It's part of the system here, at some point the airbags deploy, and deny an extension. 

I'm glad of it. Let me go, let him go. Let us all out of a situation which is only concerned with how much suction it can apply to its own appendage. 

We're in a place of ready waiting. 

We are a sprung trap for the future. 

Sipping Veuve Cliquot, nibbling blackeyes stewed slow in adobo and harissa, a smoked hock and a bay leaf I grew myself.. how can the indifferent revolution of the earth not be moved by our simple joy?

We are the luckiest people in the world. We have each other, this life, our experiences, memories, expectations, wonder, curiosity, adventure and optimism. 

We're ready to break the gate. 

Bunnies under my bed?

Oh.. 

No wonder I never vacuum under there!

Fangy, toothy.. RUN!

Save yourselves!

Wr in ur dojo eatin yr footz!

Found this on Short Sharp Science New Scientist Blog and have been laughing my patootie off ever since. 

All Hail The Arachnid!

Just a cute little jumping spider strolling across a NASA camera during a launch... oopsie, aborted! Darn spiders. 

We Leik Science!

www.mofaha.com

We also like excuses to go "NOM NOM NOM"!!

 I try to explain to my homeless Navy brat sweetie, time and again. I have a Home, and it's the needle that will show the way, again and again. I can live elsewhere and be happy, and maybe someday, some other special place will be Home. I'm not ruling it out. 

I'm not that hung up on Home. It's just like some kind of birthmark... I have one of those, as well. A kid with a splotch in the middle of their forehead may not look like that, when they grow up. If they're lucky. There it is, under the hair, for the rest of their lives. Maybe we're enslaved by it, maybe not. I'm choosing NOT, unless I need to come home, in which I'll take full advantage, and enjoy. 

The idea that I should live life as a tourist, with eyes open and wondering, instead of taking what's there for granted, has become an important one during our years overseas. 

I am not afraid of bees. My mom made sure of that. I like to pet them, they are soft and fuzzy and mostly very friendly. They don't like to be bothered, but then, neither do I. 

What I am afraid of, is my mom's house. She is a compulsive hoarder .

Going back home, I have to face this house, and this problem. 

I'm going to be very honest with you, this is like having to dig through the dumpster of your own life, plus ten. 

My mom is still functional, and trying to move out of her house, but I can only imagine the struggles she is enduring, to make some kind of movement. 

If she isn't out of there, by the time I come to town, I'll do everything I can to help. 

And hope, that I don't help too much. 

My mom's nickname is what makes the "bee" part relevant. No, I'm not afraid of bees, but let's just say I cultivate a healthy respect!

My mom asked me to attend a church service here in Germany, and it's just not something I'm going to do. 

Especially with the religious war the US is currently participating in, I just don't feel like like participating in religion. Not here, not there, not anywhere. 

This doesn't account for the panic attacks I've had in churches, quietly, over the years. If a person believes in past lives (and my jury is out on this one, pending further scientific study) if I was a hedgewitch then, as I am now, most likely I got burned in a couple of them. 

I'm not just agnostic when it comes to major religions, I'm also agnostic when it comes to New Age bullshit. You'd no sooner catch me lined up for a tarot reading, than you would catch me in church. 

Blogger varies between "Save Now" and "Saved" and I'm not sure if I should call Pat Robertson or not. 

I'm erring on the side of NOT.. 

I'm not sure I want to be "saved". There's many things in my life I would have liked to have been saved from, including idiotic teachers in high school and college (grew up in Texas, any questions?), my own stubbornness (except that it saves me more often than not)  and some injuries I still have to be careful of. My profession has saved me from far more of my mistakes than any religion could ever dream of. I don't approach what I do as cult activity, in fact, I tend to be more of an irritating thorn than a willing follower. Still, I love the work, and I do good work, in places where most R/SI'ers don't go (martial arts and the military).

Stepping outside under sparkling stars, marveling at tree roots and fungi, nibbling fall apples and rose hips, endlessly amused at life and my fellow humans (and astonished by their resourcefulness and endurance) and savoring this chance to not just live on one continent, I am incredibly blessed. 

Not by something outside myself. I stepped up, I took these chances, and I made the decision to be aware of my life. I don't live in the "palm to face" world most Americans have locked themselves into. I like to look up, and look around. 

I have observed many "cultural" Jews who are not necessarily observant of their religious traditions except as something to do with their families. I could be labeled a "cultural" Christian, except that I deeply embrace the concept of the Turning of the Light. My body responds to the seasons markedly, and, as I live there, my spirit does the same. Perhaps I am more in tune with this Northern European season, where we wait patiently until the light turns, and then start our lives anew, in the dark. 

Meanwhile, atheists are actually nicer.. news at 11.. 

http:/scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2007/12/bad_news_atheists_can_be_good.php

(I typed that link by hand, because Blogger won't paste it in Mac except on the bottom of the page, where it doesn't post and disappears.. um, conspiracy anyone? hell-OO? simple text paste? I hate typing code. )

It's a particularly bittersweet holiday, this year. 

We walked Regensburg with friends, and I am always so uplifted by the lights and the happy people. 

The sensation of homesickness, this year, is deeply tinged with the impending knowledge that though I may get to go "home", I will always miss the gaiety in the darkness, this time of year in Bavaria provides. 

We're on a mad tour of Christmas markets, drinking gluehwein and enjoying the ambiance. 

I'm more likely to demand

 perfection of myself, than o

f life. 

My life, not so very long ago, was a train wreck. 

Now, after all these years of hard work on myself, and my environment, and the loving support and cultivation of my dear cg, past injuries become integrated scars, supporting a life's web of information. 

It's the best we can do with these things we crash into, hang on to too much, leave behind, and forget to let go. 

Most of all, I think we forget to find support for our Selves. We don't take advantage of the information that is there to 

climb up on. This is the time of year to delve.. I can spend endless dark evenings sipping hot wine and experimenting with my thoughts. 

I couldn't tell anyone else to do it, who didn't want to go a little mad. But I am convinced that we humans have a hard time telling the difference between madness and genius, and am willing to experiment with both (while admittedly having far more of one on hand, than the other... ). 

Well, with the whole Chris Comer thing going on at the Texas (mis) Education Agency, a complete separation of the acromioclavicular ligament in one particular Mensch is No Big Deal!

The collarbone and some attached cartilage just kind of floats around above my shoulder. It doesn't hamper my movement much, but I can't, say, scratch my other shoulderblade like I used to. I tried today, not comfortable. I'm being very diligent about getting into the gym, and strengthening my arms as much as possible. 

Anyway, I'm doing well, feeling normal, and able to complete normal chores as expected. No left side shoulder rolls or ukemi for the forseeable future, but life goes on.

Dishes, laundry, ironing and work go on, as normal.

Never thought I'd be so grateful, just for that.

Took a little mild ukemi today, worked with the jo and threw with my right arm. 

Left shoulder burned a bit, biceps tendon complaining hotly down my arm. I figure it's an inflammation of the sheath of the tendon from the swelling on my shoulder, and have gone back to my ice pack for tonight. 

Down to one naproxen sodium today, Voltaren cream and ice. Using rubber tubing for exercises to strengthen the rotator cuff and brace cartilage now MIA. 

I'm quite functional, working is no longer uncomfortable and budo is becoming less so. I still like to keep my left hand in a jeans pocket rather than let it hang, and with this injury it may become a habit. 

I'm weighing what CG has told me for years, about the practicality of shoulder rolls, and wish I didn't have to understand what he's talking about, this way. 

I don't think I get another chance with this shoulder, and I'm not likely to take any. 

It's like stepping out of a photo negative.
I know, we don't see them so often any more, life is digital. My life is certainly digital, and I'm OK with that. But I remember life in photo negatives. The first photos of my early life, were in black and white.

Now that you know you're reading the diary of a Mature Person, maybe what I'm about to write about seems crazy.
Maybe someday, the idea that money was green and white, will seem crazy too. The Euro is much prettier in any case. If pretty equals worth, that explains a lot. Doesn't help me much ;-) .

I was doing martial arts (aikido), fell wrong, and ripped the top ligament which holds the collarbone down to the shoulder, right off. Now I have a lot of cartilage floating around and a shoulder which droops oddly beyond the slightly elevated shelf of the collarbone. I'll get a pic up here soon enough. One bit is too far up, the other too far down.

Meanwhile, I'm starting to feel more recovering, than injured. There's no surgical answer, the shoulder is too mobile a joint for surgeons to be happy with their limited options for repair. It wasn't recommended for me, and I was left to do my own physical therapy.
A friend gave us some tied-off color coded surgical tubing for Chuck's hip rehab, and I have adopted it for my shoulder rehab. Sitting on a physioball today, doing my 15 reps of 3 different angles, toning the supraspinatus up for its new job of holding my shoulder together, in the absence of the cartilage whose job it was, before.

I am also using "medicine balls" for simple range of movement, such as I would use in working.
Using the surgical tubing to build strength in the directions I am currently weak.

Gently, slowly, irrevocably.

I've never been one to take "no" for an answer, and I'm not about to start now.

I'll consider myself healed, when I can do kata without limitation, or make a basket without a hitch.
Not that I like basketball, just that throwing things up, right now, is not comfortable.

I'm not going to try aikido again, nor shoulder rolls. It's just not worth it, any more.
I prefer to have my shoulder to work, to do weapons kata, and daily life.

Having lived in Europe for just over 5 years, and being an interested observer in the US economy, I have some commentary, especially having to do with our current drubbing in the international economy.

Some people may not think of having your currency devalued internationally, as a drubbing. I'm not sure if it's a way to make our debt appear smaller, a way to benefit manufacturing at the expense of the rest of the population, or what.

In any case, our investment in the Euro via our bank account here, has been a good one. Expensive, but good return on our Euro purchase. I haven't worked the percentages out yet. Something which costs 99 Euros, currently costs about 148 US dollars. About a year ago we bought in at almost 2000 Euro. The value has gone up. Not sure of values yet. I try to think of buying Euro as an investment which, at this point, will only go up.

Health care.. GM's re-negotiation of their health care program led me to wonder: Could US companies be more competitive, if the cost of health care was shifted onto the state?
Our main competitors, Western Europe and Japan, have socialized health care. Manufacturing companies do not need to figure health insurance into their costs in these places. American companies do. At what point will we realize what a drag this is on industry, and socialize health care, as has every other civilized nation, and some we don't count as such? (Cuba, Iceland).

Health insurance coverage is decreasing in the US:
http://www.census.gov/hhes/www/hlthins/hlthin06/hlth06asc.html
Meanwhile, poverty is increasing.
http://www.census.gov/prod/2007pubs/p60-233.pdf
(don't read the text, just look at the numbers... )

Public transportation.. France and German have both had enormous train strikes.. resulting in enormous traffic jams. Trains save gas, they save lives (reducing traffic and therefore accidents) they save personal fortunes (no car payment, no insurance!) and they create jobs. Toll roads, hello Texas, do none of the above.

Total rail fatalities in the US were 911 (no, really..).
Total highway fatalities were 42, 642.
Pedestrians were 4, 784 (don't know if this was counted in traffic fatalities, assuming most were killed by cars)
Pedalcyclists died at a rate of 773 for the year of 2006.
766 people died as a result of air and air travel related accidents.
Source: http://www.bts.gov/publications/national_transportation_statistics/html/table_02_01.html

The only thing that kills more people than cars, are heart disease, cancer ("malignant neoplasms" nothing to do with cigarettes I'm sure) strokes and the like, chronic respiratory disease (gosh, could that be cigarettes, or, worse, air quality, possibly having to do with cars?), accidents (to include what?), the flu and pneumonia.
Source http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr56/nvsr56_05.pdf

What's shameful to me, is that the US can't conceive of the idea that, perhaps, somewhere, someone is doing something better than we are.

And if they are, that we could learn something from it.

Instead of everyone just picking up bad habits and overpriced blue jeans from us.

(I'm just kidding about Iceland. We recently met an Icelander on a train, an opera singer, who was utterly civilized and funny.. we just tend to forget about it as a country! but it's there, and the people are interesting)

Still healing.. still frustrated at not being able to train fully.
Using ice gel packs and naproxen sodium to manage discomfort, which isn't bad as long as I don't do too much, or anything stupid. Occasionally, doing nothing in particular, I get bright stars, little asterisks of pain. Possibly from things that used to connect, that don't, any more.

At any rate, I can swing a sword, I can work, and I can complete most daily tasks.

I can't sleep on my left side, or load the left side a lot.
It's interesting that I have to work, and work out, smarter.

If I have to get hurt, I'm going to get everything I can out of it.
Even if I don't want to.

Watching late fall winds, blowing leaves and snowflakes around in a damp and frosty mix.

My shoulder is healing fast, but the top AC ligament is pretty much shot. Fortunately, since the earlier injury, I have paid a lot of attention to getting in the gym and keeping my rotator cuff and shoulder musculature strong. That, and the intensive bodywork I have undergone, has made a huge difference in my adaptability to injury.

I've also done a lot of manual labor and swung a lot of steel, be it an axe, sling blade or katana.
The orthopedist remarked, on the wear on my bones.

Wasn't sure what to say, to his fascination with that.
He's happy with the mobility of the joint, and I can reach almost straight up (not quite, not yet). Normally, I can reach and hold my own fingers behind my shoulder blades. Not today, needless to say. The bruising has slipped down under my arm and into the space between the bulk of pec major and humerus. Not as ugly as it was. I've been religious with gel ice packs, Voltaren gel, and liniments (Kwan Loong and BioFreeze).

Overall, I'm not unhappy with my healing. Other than having to do it in the first place.

I skipped my naproxen dose last night and this morning, and was sorry. I've also got a little heel spur thing going on with my right foot, so between the foot drag and the bump on my shoulder, I might as well live in a bell tower.

Getting hurt isn't just about getting hurt, it's about where you start from, IF you're lucky enough to get the chance to get better. People in car and bike crashes don't make it, all the time. A point for telecommuting...

My general good condition, integration, psychological resilience (hard-won and a bit stretched, at the moment) and general deep stubbornness has all stood me in good stead.

I've become a fan of "Medi-Taping" a Japanese practice which has spread, happily, to Europe. The light, gentle elastic tapes provide a kind of support for the injured joint and counter-stimulus to injured and contracting muscles and nerves. The osteopath I hang out with as often as possible, taped me up the Monday after the injury, and it was great until Thursday, when it was itching like crazy and I took it off. Boy, was I sorry!
Next, I was scratching at the door of the physiotherapist's I knew, asking them to put some back on.
They were incredibly sweet and kind, and taped me back up.
It's a little itchy, but I don't care. I can scratch through the tape.

So, two points.. not starting from zero, and knowing kind folks, who will take in injured strays.

*shuffle, drag, hunch.. "yeth, Marthter... "

Not much I can do, with a bum shoulder, so I'm taking myself on nice Walkies.

I've decided to make one more batch of delicious cranberry jam with the tiny, elusive wild cranberries which grow on the ground in the forests here.

Some little yellowish mushrooms caught my eye...

Hours of poring over mushroom books paid off! The Germans call them "Trompeten-Pfifferling". They are lovely little things with yellow stems, dark caps, and gills becoming light lilac as the fungi mature. My German book indicates they are "Cantherellus tubaeformis", though these look a little like the American var. Lutescens.

Our anniversary dinner was splendid, with these little beauties in a simple cream sauce over chicken breast, romanesque from our garden, polenta toasted in olive oil, and the last of our collection of Alsatian Reisling Gran Cru.

I found almost a kilo of these little beauties on the steep hillside. I shared a generous handful with our landlord, and dried another big handful of them to keep around for soups and such.

Yes, I'm contemplating another run out there, despite the despicable drippiness of the day!

I need to get some sloes and more cranberries anyway. Yeah.. that's my excuse..