Ramblings

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So many things on my mind this morning as I do what I do at this time of day. Working, playing, drifting, thinking, habits, chores, attention, distractions. So I pause a moment to sit before this screen and try to capture it. Floaty thoughts, hard to grasp. Wondering about the world. This computer brings it to me. I see life, all around me, I'm right in the middle of it, but the world and its details is something that has to be fished in. Hunted for. No TV no radio, no papers, this is it, besides word of mouth. Here I see not just that which is reported and commented on, the news and information sources, but also the blogs and personal sights and posts. Strange way to look into someone's life. I read of a woman who hurts because she wants to love her people and her country and cannot, because of what she finds out about them. But her love is still there and suffers so. One could heal the world if one could harness that force and spread it evenly. She loves humanity now, and our earth instead. The dogs are barking, cowboys on their horses going by. It's a gray day, dripping dew, all is damp. The horses shine with it. Going to work on a horse down a dirt road. A little hay instead of some gas. And I turn back to the computer after gazing down the road after them. Reading now what the ones that think they are the intelligent ones of the bunch think. Amusing how many ists and isms and ites they can get in one sentence. A constant proving of their realm. I wonder what the cowboys were thinking, I could hear them laughing, laughing with the goodness of life. My dogs bark so much, but no one cares, it's just dogs barking, so what. They keep checking the fence lines, ever curious of what goes on, open to it, as I sit fading out from it. My mind once again picks up the question of how a woman can belong to an organization that claimed to be against pornography and then use it for her humor. Just recently she was worrying about one thing leading to another and now she seems to make no connection between her crudeness and what she professes to be against. Where does disrespect for the sexual and private really start? I think of the cowboys again as my dogs start to settle in and slow down. American women have a reputation for looseness and are not respected here, although treated politely. The easy hugs and kisses, the touches and the pats, bold laughter among those you just met, looking into peoples eyes prying. It makes me glad I am who I am and not that. A quiet buenos dias from me, when one tipped his hat as he passed the gate. I think of people that I can respect, its mutual. Then I read a poem from India, some days there are new ones on this site. I reread the one about women, and feel a feminine hurt. Why do cultures suppress us so, how does one escape. A man answers her back and feels his guilt, how beautiful that it touched him so. So special. I wonder if the cowboys have wives and how they treat them. I've known these type of women, been in their houses, shared with them. So accepting, so into their role, mother, wife, housemaker. Here come the dogs, to settle back down around me, secure in that all is fine and waiting for the next alert, the cowboys forgotten. I look back on my screen once more, turning to a favorite site for bits of a book, poetry and offerings on life. But once again, no new post, only the lonely girl on the bicycle on the empty tracks. I suppose waiting for the writer to come back, I have grown to quite enjoy him. And I realize, the day is moving on and so must I. I put my thoughts of what my screen brings to a distance in my mind and watch the sky as the sun tries to make its breakthrough. Time to get busy, I suppose.

My World

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It's time to be thinking of my new house again, money is coming in this summer and perhaps there will be enough left to build some more on it. The foundation was put in ten years ago, but nothing much but plan after plan has happened since. Which has been good in some ways, because those plans have slowly thru the years developed into the ultimate house plan. I've lived in that house for years now in my mind and walked around the rooms to see how they will feel. I even know where the furniture will go. I set out there on the empty foundation right where it will be gazing at my so fantastic view. Actually, it's one big room. 26 feet by 36 feet. When I get that done, I will put another little room on the side for the bath and laundry, I don’t want any walls dividing up that big space. I'm putting a wrought iron fence around the bed area, waist high, to keep the dogs off it, but it wont close things in much. I want the feeling of a large area around me to stir around in and feel the space. The red bricks for it were delivered quite a few years back when an American brick company here failed. They were little more than the price of delivery. So they wait, along with the tin roofing that came at a tremendous bargain. It will have styrofoam in the rafters to stop the heat and cold. All this is carefully thought out because it is what cost the very least and is available here. True, the house won´t last down thru the ages but it will last my lifetime. All the windows will be second hand, which I already have collected up much of. I don't have the front door yet, it has to be really special because my last houses ended up with having no real front and no real front door. I might even get a doorbell, but I don’t know what for, as it sits in the middle of my land surrounded by a chain link fence. Very private, all the passing people see is the backs of my buildings. I dislike front doors that strangers can come up and knock on and you have to open to see who it is. I like to keep them waiting at my big iron gates, greeted by my dogs.
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So, maybe with luck I can bit by bit have the cement poured for the floor, how solid and good that would feel, I could sweep it. It feels so good to spend so little on it, make it so simple. So much waste can go into homes, I don't like big houses, lots of rooms. And besides, I like to see my living in front of me, all gathered together, not divided up into walls and doors. My kitchen will be in one corner, where the view looks towards the sea and mountains. Galley style, small and efficient. I don’t store much, so I don't need many cabinets. Just one big floor to ceiling pantry for whatever ends up in there. Simple living is done best in simple lodgings.
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I'm not sure what I will do with the storage shed turned house I live in now when I move out. Maybe give it to the dogs, or maybe rent it out if times get harder. It is very small and does not face the view right and it is not really finished up either and a little sagging to one side. Once your in, its harder to work on it. But it is always good to have extra buildings, you never know what could come up. Like the work shop building, it just keeps growing and sheds pop up all over for one thing or another. Then there is the little house for my mother too. That is all completed tho, she likes things that way. I don’t mind living in an unfinished reality, it sort of keeps things open. Time sure slips by, ten years so far here, I am always so grateful I can look out my windows and see the home I will have someday. No sense in getting in a hurry, life is plenty good in the inbetween. And one of the nicest things, it's all paid for as I go. The property paid for too when I bought it at a very affordable price. I can't imagine living with payments to meet, what a loss of freedom. So I anxiously wait to see the worker and my husband stir up by hand those first bags of cement to put in the far corner where the view is best. I will have to get an umbrella.

How Would You Know?

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I don’t get much communications with Americans, and when I do they interest me as a slice of what that society is made up of. Today two have been brought to my attention. The first, Patrick Henry, a rather clever writing young man, which he shows off to his best effort here on his site, psychic head. I gave a brief answer on his comment section but felt more was due his efforts. Plus he has been good enough to comment on my blog, the July 6th post, The Consumers. He brought up several good questions, ones quite commonly asked. I will post that here in its entirety because I felt it an important exchange. Good things to learn.

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Patrick Henry: You point out things which may or may not be true, depending on your point of view. What do you suggest to fix the 'problem'? If America is so bad, why do the citizens continually send money and aid in the form of food, clothing, medicines, time, etc. to less-fortunate countries? Every one of your posts and the Far-Left Queue talk about how bad America (the U.S.A.) is and unfair to the rest of the world. From reading your posts, it appears there are more personal issues with you than you admit to your readers and possibly yourself. It is easier to blame and denigrate than offer solutions.
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My Reply: Hola PH, good questions. I don't think there is an ¨Answer¨ to the¨fix the problem" question, as you suggest. To many problems, to many answers. For myself, my part, I live simply, by choice. You ask about Americas gifts to the needy. In order for America to pull off its atrocities it must have a front. Not just for the world, but for its own gullible people to swallow. Give some hand outs one place and destroy another, or do it at the same time and place. It's the method. Take what you want.
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My blog is about Evil America, so of course that is what I write about. I do it for people like you who are interested in another view, one not available to them. By the way, Further Left is the name of my other blog, The Far Queue, a very talented writer about all life. But I do like the name Far-Left Queue. I am sure there are personal issues, admitted or not, but that’s not important here or what I am here for. Its not a confessional diary, just a simple blog on bad America.
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All I can do is set an example by my life of how it should be and pass on my truths and views for others to draw their conclusions from. Which you seemed to have done. Don't forget to keep an open mind, there is always more to be learned than what you think you know at the moment.
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And then the second comment directed at me from the ever attempting humorous Elastic Waistband Lady: Papi has his own theory about La Zatikia, who was born in America, by the way. He speculates that her Mama was knocked up by some sleazy white guy, likely during a one night stand, and she holds all white men accountable for her abandonment and neglect as a child. Of course, Papi's opinion is purer than yours or mine Patrick, because of his brown skin and Spanish accent.
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This one represents well one of the deep problems corrupting America. The descent of their societies, and in particular women, their minds into their gutter. I have found many American women to equate equality with the ability to talk foully. It is a sad approach. A shame they cannot see how bad they make themselves look with this kind of talk. It degrades women worldwide. But that is the trouble with America, so much of the small stuff they do harms so much when it is done on such a large scale. No wonder family falls apart there and their children turn violent and brought up to be soldiers for the cause of more more more.
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And it seems like maybe Papi´s skin is getting a little whiter and his accent a little less the longer he stays in America, he should not have left his heart behind.
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So, that is today's lesson for me on The American Way, if you can't speak the truth, make up a lie. That goes for both my new American followers and their words dedicated to me. Thank you both for proving my opinion.

Why America?

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America, America, the words I have heard echo thru all my travels and all my stays. What else could this mean but the United States of America. The people are called Americans, they are known by no other title .United Statesians, USA ´ers? If asked their nationality, they must reply either where they are from or say American. God Bless America. This statement was meant to mean United States of America, certainly not the rest of the continent, being that the Americans have their own gods that bless them. When speaking of this country one has choices of what to call it. But somehow saying, The United States of America is to much of a mouthful. Just like Mexico, its real name is United States of Mexico, but no one says all that, just simply Mexico. To call it by initials, The USA, is easy, but just a short cut and not a name. To say The Americas means the continet and its countries. That one country took the name of all does not mean it does not still belong to the others also and just as much. But say America and what comes to mind is the land between those over guarded borders. A name of a continent, north central and south, the name of a country, and the name of a people.

This is the way it seems to me and why I call it America.

The Consumers

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Is it wrong to benefit from wrong? Can an American live in luxury and not be part of the guilt of his country? They think that disapproving their government in words excuses them. They can hate their president and they can be against their wars but of what use that when they still go ahead and live the life style. America is a land that is perfecting it for the use of the rich. A breeding ground for the greedy and privileged. Their whole system is geared that way. And even most of what they call their poor are rich in comparison. It is only the ones that could not fit this system, that fell out of the direction of it that suffer from want. Follow the rules and go along with the rape and ruin of whatever it takes to make it go and they have it made for themselves. Talking bad about their country makes them feel good. Good because it changes nothing, just the continuation of their greedy needs. Most actually love their country and are proud of it and themselves. How can a nation be proud with such a recent history of such violence and deceptions that still contaminates so much. What they love is their possessions and their security. Even in their prisons they are taught to be taken care of. Always this dependency that their government creates to keep them trapped. Their lifestyle is extremely out of proportion to what a person can use compared to what our earth has to give. If everyone lived like Americans the world would already be used up. And daily, they just consume and consume, like there is not end to it. They are a nation of fat people worrying about eating to much. Their minds are taken by what they can get or do next when they have not even paid for the last excursions into excess. And these people, the Americans, they feel it is their right and they complain it is not enough. Worshipping their rich and imitating them. Living on credit, like life is a game. These people have had their minds arranged since birth and all the processes after to think of themselves first. The brainwashing trick of narrowing their view down to what they want and who they think they are. They don’t see the world suffering, only in faddish conversation, just to be able to say, see, there I do care and I read the headlines too, I know everything. But they don't really care, they are too dulled by what they have become for that. If they did care the burden of the guilt such a nation should really feel would crush them. If they really cared they could not so consciously overindulge. They would not be proud of their stolen name America, it would represent the oppression and the horror it really is. They would hang their heads in shame, or raise up and revolt and refuse to live the good life at such a price. America is an evil place, and benefits from that rot a persons soul and mind. You can see it in the corruption of their society, of their family. It is a sick country, at the brink of its demise. Yes, it is wrong to benefit from wrong, just watch America, and you will know that to be a truth.

Keeping the Balance

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My brother brought me down a new set of dishes, they are very nice to look at. I did not need new dishes, mine are fine and I like them very much, collected from all over, so many colors. But he says its always good to get something newer and besides, they all match. And my birthday is next month and he had to get something. I went to put them in my cupboard and the dinner plates are wider than the shelves. He says his dishes are that big, but they fit. His wife had him put in new cabinets on the last kitchen remodeling especially to hold this newer bigger size. They give the message you need to make more food to fill them up. I like small meals. I picture fat Americans with heaped plates, eyes shining, lips parting. These dishes will be hard to get use to, I can tell. More more more and always bigger. I am lucky I am poor and can't afford cabinet doors yet, so it does not hurt if they stick out. I am wondering if I should make more coffee in the morning, so the cup does not look only half full, kind of stingy. But I only like so much coffee and that’s that. Oh yes, it's not a cup it’s a mug. Such a descriptive word. But perhaps I should not complain, because I too benefit from American excess. It is time for my brothers windows to be changed out to the latest type. His new ones will be so much more efficient, and they really do look like wood. He will bring me down the old windows and I will store them for my real house I am going to finish building out there on the rest of my property. Someday. Provided they don’t get the glass broke out of them from storms, rocks, dogs and various accidents, like the windows from the last time he replaced his. I've noticed its hard to care for windows when they are not in the wall. But I will try, free windows, that’s nice. As I sit here writing this and wondering about it all, I wonder how well oversize dishes will store.