Brandon here. The Paula Craig mentioned below is my mother. Prayers, please, for recovery and gratitude that the dog didn't get through to her neck and head.
Appreciating you all,
B
| posted by Unknown @ 11/06/2009 09:26:00 AM
Appreciating you all,
B
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Thu, Nov 5, 2009 at 1:37 PM
Subject: Paula Craig Attacked by Rottweiler
Date: Thu, Nov 5, 2009 at 1:37 PM
Subject: Paula Craig Attacked by Rottweiler
Paula Craig was attacked and mauled on Monday morning by a Rottweiler. That is why she was not at Community Monday night. Thanks to Donna for forwarding the news copied below. I just talked to Paula, and she is at home and doing better. She asked that you keep her in your prayers, but would prefer not to have calls, food drop-offs, etc. The mothers of her students are taking very good care of those things, and Paula needs to conserve her energy. She will tell us all about the incident at the next meeting. Meanwhile, please pray for her continued recovery.
Lynn
_____________________________________________
Lynn -- this is about our own Paula. Do what you will with the information. Ann Sanchez is my daughter and is involved in RCPTA a parent group supporting Rosemont Elementary (I think). I suppose that is where Ann got her information. -- Peace, Donna
Lynn -- this is about our own Paula. Do what you will with the information. Ann Sanchez is my daughter and is involved in RCPTA a parent group supporting Rosemont Elementary (I think). I suppose that is where Ann got her information. -- Peace, Donna
----- Forwarded Message ----
Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 5:14fa:45 AM
Subject: Ms Paula news
Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 5:14fa:45 AM
Subject: Ms Paula news
Ms. Paula attacked by dog!
Dear Fellow Members,
First let me say that Ms. Paula, our neighborhood Musikgarten teacher and
Montessori mentor, is healing at home and is already seeing this event as a
blessing. Yesterday morning she was going to visit a friend from church who
is infirmed and, currently, using a cane when the woman's dog, a Rottweiler,
attacked her. The friend dropped her cane and was able to pull the dog back
before it managed to get ahold of Paula's throat. Unfortunately, on his way
to her throat, he bit her multiple times from her ankles up to her thighs
and her right forearm.
She drove herself to the E.R. and they were able to treat her and send her
home yesterday in the late afternoon.
I was blessed to be able to spend most of the day with her today (her
birthday!) and was able to get her to tell me what we can do to give her
some assistance while she heals.
Dear Fellow Members,
First let me say that Ms. Paula, our neighborhood Musikgarten teacher and
Montessori mentor, is healing at home and is already seeing this event as a
blessing. Yesterday morning she was going to visit a friend from church who
is infirmed and, currently, using a cane when the woman's dog, a Rottweiler,
attacked her. The friend dropped her cane and was able to pull the dog back
before it managed to get ahold of Paula's throat. Unfortunately, on his way
to her throat, he bit her multiple times from her ankles up to her thighs
and her right forearm.
She drove herself to the E.R. and they were able to treat her and send her
home yesterday in the late afternoon.
I was blessed to be able to spend most of the day with her today (her
birthday!) and was able to get her to tell me what we can do to give her
some assistance while she heals.
Tracy Wehrmann
Parenting 101 - my VT family provides an excellent example
"Do you know how you tame people?
Val: (after a socially frustrating art class)
"Do you know how you tame people?
Labels: conflict, difference, family, processarts
| posted by Unknown @ 11/05/2009 12:46:00 PM
Happy Birthday, Dad!
David Williams:
admirable man
excellent father
best friend
(click to enlarge - the image not the Dad)
Community on Purpose
On Wed, Mar 25, 2009 at 2:29 PM, I wrote:
Brandon here, requesting an assist.
My Dad has been working from Dallas as my dissertation editor, using online tech, and we have been having marvelous success working toward my Fall 2009 drop-deadline. He has volunteered to fly to Berkeley for much of April in order that we might create a writing retreat to complete as much as is possible in a month. Even though he is an amazing jazz musician with psychological savvy and good social skills, this will be even more spiffy if he doesn't have to sleep on the couch in our tiny apartment all month.
He will be arriving April 7th and leaving the 29th. Being able to put him up somewhere in the East Bay for any portion of that time would be a huge help, even if only for one or two nights. Please don't hesitate to let me know, even if the possibility of a spot is uncertain.
Come hell or high water, this dissertation will be done this year.
Many people receiving this email have been wonderfully helpful and for that I am profoundly grateful.
Warmly,
B
----------------------------------------------
Today I wrote:
Brandon here with an amazing report I thought you might want to hear.
At the end of March I sent out a request for help finding David Williams a place to stay through April (no small amount of time) while he is in Berkeley with us.
In case you ever wonder what kind of resources are available to people who intentionally
participate in building community, like yourself, my request activated positive responses by at least (and with as few overlaps as possible) two intentional communities, including Crescent Sangha House community and Berkeley Cohousing; 14 families and 10 individuals in 7 cites from Association Building Community, Aikido of Berkeley, Epworth United Methodist Church, and a fantasy gaming group; the local Green Party; individual undergraduate and graduate students at UC; local clergy unrelated to any of the groups mentioned above; denizens of the worlds first dog park; and a veterinary office, not to mention people too far away to really count but who sent supportive suggestions (via Facebook, Twitter, Skype, freenode, text messages, blog comments, etc.) nonetheless.My Dad now has a lovely bedroom in a friendly house less than three miles away, for his entire stay. And huge thanks to you all, including the 27 people who have continued to follow-up, requesting updates even after their original positive response.
And, to those critics who say building community on purpose will never become an adequate response to the alienation of an industrialized human imagination, I throw my arms wide and grin!
B
Labels: ABC, community, family, kin
| posted by Unknown @ 4/03/2009 01:41:00 PM
My dad and I work on my dissertation together via Skype and Google Docs. I gotta say I love the man. This is hugely helpful.
I also gotta say I dig the tech that makes this possible.
My dad is coming for most of April so we can go nuts on a writing retreat. Can anybody in Berkeley help put him up? | posted by Unknown @ 2/23/2009 07:13:00 PM
I also gotta say I dig the tech that makes this possible.My dad is coming for most of April so we can go nuts on a writing retreat. Can anybody in Berkeley help put him up? | posted by Unknown @ 2/23/2009 07:13:00 PM
Zoopy!
Nicole has struck Tennessee! Lisa's and Nicole's Uncle Jack took us to see Nicole on stage with The Zoopy Show. There will be audio tracks and video from the show. In the meantime here are some photos.
This post will take some time to complete and is out of chronological order as a result. After it has been the lead post for a bit I will return it to it's original place in the vicinity of 7/8/2007
Labels: daily, family, music, Nicole, walkabout
| posted by Unknown @ 7/22/2007 09:33:00 PM
Goats and Cherokees
We drove through the torrent and flood of North Texas yesterday to arrive in Cookson Oklahoma, just outside of Tahlequah.
Lisa’s grandparents, Jim and Barbara Martens live right on Lake Tenkiller surrounded by beautiful oaks, fields, and rolling wooded hills, every species of bird my grandparents Craig taught me to know
(the limit of my ornithological expertise), an entire festival of raccoons every night, 
and the beamed ceilings and paneled walls of a truly homey place that reminds me of September Song, the home on Lake Texoma to which my grandparents retired. Jim is a charming combination of dour and wry while Barbara is loquacious and charming at all times. Jim sets (different from sitting - we southern folks set), Barbara talks or reads, Lisa knits and talks, and I mostly listen when I'm not annoying Jim with genealogical questions or requests for stories.
To make this homey and relaxing visit even better I just finished polishing off three organic, cowdairyless, oatmeal cookies with an entire mug of fresh goat’s milk from Pine Lane Dairy (918-458-1504 - prop. Lisa Turner). The Turner family has Oberhasli dairy goats aplenty on their beautiful land. Barbara played tour guide as she drove us around Tahlequah and then through their crafted stone gates and past the horses, guinea hens, and ranging goats. We scored an entire gallon of fresh goat milk for $7 and a pound of almond-honey chevre for $5. They sell kids, yearlings, dry and freshened does around Easter to supplement their milk, cheeses, yogurt, whey, and (soon) soap! Considering it has a more easily digestible fat and protein content than cow milk, is better for infants, invalids, convalescents, folks with ulcers, and doesn’t require grass pastures (doing well with much less in brushlands and so many other kinds of terrain without having the environmental impact of industrial cattle production), it is no surprise that more people worldwide drink the milk of goats than any other single animal. I’d better stop before I sound too much like an advertisement. My sister, Meghan, would have approved in a big way. Goats are where it’s at, even if cow milk doesn’t make you swell up until you look like a hippo with a goiter (gosh, thanks, Lisa).
On the way to the dairy we heard from Barbara, until recently a local candidate for Cherokee Nation Council, several familiar tales from the political arena about minor candidates lining up behind major candidates playing the usual roles developing the usual themes engendering the usual gossipy spittle. Pandering politicos promising perpetual purses to persuasive people while pointing to recumbent incumbents conned into conservatism by budgetary banditry, or possibly plausible people power purveyors pushing politicians past their prime to put the populace in their primary place. Problematic, to put a point on it.
I’ll end where we began, at the Iguana, near Northeastern State University -- Go Riverhawks! They were until very recently known as the Redmen, but we try not to mention that.
The Iguana is a fabulous new coffeehouse/gathering place in Tahlequah near the campus, with wi-fi, excellent hot and cold sandwiches, and drinks. They also sell all kinds of cool stuff from elsewhere, from Buddhas, sarongs, and masks to Indonesian picture frames (on sale for $2!) two red ones of which we acquired for our new Yellow Submarine apartment walls. If Lisa has her way, and I hope she will, our place is going to be the spiffiest ever.
Though I'll have to go elsewhere to upload this to the net, I’m writing at the kitchen table in the presence of the aforementioned flora and fauna spread before me by the grace of five floor-to-ceiling windows. In short, life is good.
Labels: cafe, daily, family, travel
| posted by Unknown @ 7/03/2007 12:53:00 PM
Happy Anniversary to my beloved brother and sister!
Lisa and I are looking forward to seeing Isaiah and Meghan soon, so with The Mom we managed this rendition of one of the Grandparents Craig favorite love songs to sing to each other.
And snuck it onto their blog!
This is the mirror site, in case their's doesn't work for some reason.
Click on the small arrow button above to hear us sing "Always" for Meg and Isaiah's anniversary.
May their delightful days be as long and as memorable as the coolest couple anyone knows. The only rub is...that would be them anyway. It was the greatest of honors to be one of Isaiah's groomsmen.
This is the mirror site, in case their's doesn't work for some reason.
Click on the small arrow button above to hear us sing "Always" for Meg and Isaiah's anniversary.
May their delightful days be as long and as memorable as the coolest couple anyone knows. The only rub is...that would be them anyway. It was the greatest of honors to be one of Isaiah's groomsmen.
I & M, YOU ARE LOVED!
Labels: anniversary, celebration, family, gift, Isaiah, kin, Meghan, music, song
| posted by Unknown @ 6/28/2007 09:52:00 PM
The Dissertation has taken a turn for the better. I realized, as I was very slowly forcing myself to fill in the blanks of my consultant's outline, that I was writing her idea of my work. Thus the forcing. So I have reshaped the outline to fit my basic premises and am flowing nicely now. Making much better progress, still pricked onward by the fear of failure and shame at being so windy (read as winding - twists and turns - as well as too much wind). It is important to have authentic and traditional motivations, like fear and shame, to drive one onward.
But seriously folks, I realized at a different level the necessity of setting myself up for success by paying real and careful attention to what hasn't and doesn't work for me. Hereafter I'll follow Dennis Slattery's instruction to "write like you are writing an email" so the audience can understand what the heck I'm saying. Extending the context of his comment, I'd best do what I love to do - outline clearly and write shorter pieces (one clear page or two at a time) for prompt release (requires clarity in the first draft rather than curly wandering for later revisions) towards the creation of websites and the like. Like a blog! How many people within the range of this would be willing to read stuff faithfully and tell me
Without, the environment has felt much like my internal weather since December.
The sky has been pouring so much liquid on Texas of late that the Trinity River in Dallas is WAY out of its banks and filling every nook and cranny from levy to levy.
And the rest of North Texas ain't much better off.
We have a history of that, you see (the `08 in this particular case refers to 100 years ago),
but many different reactions to the thunder, lightning, and roaring firmament.
I highly recommend a visit to the Meghan-Val-Isaiah blog. Val is way out beyond cute.
"He claps and dance-dances to music fists waving. He can find the moon in the sky at night and points." I love that boy. Val is absolutely The Most.
I miss Aidan so much my stomach balls up and feels like a lead weight beneath every beating of my heart. There is nothing more precious than a child, and one who can point at the moon is no longer "a child" but The Child, the one who knows where your moon is and without whom pointing becomes pointless for quite some time.
Missing the point,
B
But seriously folks, I realized at a different level the necessity of setting myself up for success by paying real and careful attention to what hasn't and doesn't work for me. Hereafter I'll follow Dennis Slattery's instruction to "write like you are writing an email" so the audience can understand what the heck I'm saying. Extending the context of his comment, I'd best do what I love to do - outline clearly and write shorter pieces (one clear page or two at a time) for prompt release (requires clarity in the first draft rather than curly wandering for later revisions) towards the creation of websites and the like. Like a blog! How many people within the range of this would be willing to read stuff faithfully and tell me
- Does it make sense?
- Does it fit, given what has gone before?
- Does it support what I said I would support?
- Does it set up what I say is coming and make you want to read on?
Without, the environment has felt much like my internal weather since December.
The sky has been pouring so much liquid on Texas of late that the Trinity River in Dallas is WAY out of its banks and filling every nook and cranny from levy to levy.
What it looks like at the moment:
What it usually looks like:
And the rest of North Texas ain't much better off.
We have a history of that, you see (the `08 in this particular case refers to 100 years ago),
but many different reactions to the thunder, lightning, and roaring firmament.
I highly recommend a visit to the Meghan-Val-Isaiah blog. Val is way out beyond cute.
"He claps and dance-dances to music fists waving. He can find the moon in the sky at night and points." I love that boy. Val is absolutely The Most.
I miss Aidan so much my stomach balls up and feels like a lead weight beneath every beating of my heart. There is nothing more precious than a child, and one who can point at the moon is no longer "a child" but The Child, the one who knows where your moon is and without whom pointing becomes pointless for quite some time.
Missing the point,
B
Labels: daily, Dallas, diss, family, flood, grief, kin, travel, VK
| posted by Unknown @ 6/28/2007 10:02:00 AM
Oddly Enough - Healer's nude dance rite upsets some..
I don't have much to say. I just had to reproduce the above words in a compensatory move to balance my otherwise clothed and definitely not dancing occupation.
We went to the Dallas Arboretum with David (Dad) and Julie (step-mom) this morning. It was so much more beautiful than I remembered, from visiting some 15 years ago. It is a www (wealthy white women - long before the internet) project decades in the making and has become a true showplace, a museum (like the Federal Parks but moreso) for a Nature that never was and never will be again and is amazingly beautifully crafted. Sorry. The ecopsychology had to creep in. I'm reading David Kidner and I can't help it.
D&J took us to a tasty, Italian lunch place and I bought us desert at Wholefoods. Then back to their place to nosh it and drink their excellent decaf. Then home to do wash and write. Sometimes our family talks non-stop at a pace that uses all my resources, even as I participate in creating that pace. In the moment this makes it almost impossible to object in a thoughtful way when something is being said or created that doesn't feel good. I'm decompressing before writing by writing this. Blogging helps to make process-level comments (how something happened, rather than just what) to an imagined readership when I need to feel heard.
Big thanks, by the by, to Scott Mace from Epworth UMC for uploading digital copies of the Epworth services for me to download and hear. I miss Epworth.
I don't have much to say. I just had to reproduce the above words in a compensatory move to balance my otherwise clothed and definitely not dancing occupation.
We went to the Dallas Arboretum with David (Dad) and Julie (step-mom) this morning. It was so much more beautiful than I remembered, from visiting some 15 years ago. It is a www (wealthy white women - long before the internet) project decades in the making and has become a true showplace, a museum (like the Federal Parks but moreso) for a Nature that never was and never will be again and is amazingly beautifully crafted. Sorry. The ecopsychology had to creep in. I'm reading David Kidner and I can't help it.
D&J took us to a tasty, Italian lunch place and I bought us desert at Wholefoods. Then back to their place to nosh it and drink their excellent decaf. Then home to do wash and write. Sometimes our family talks non-stop at a pace that uses all my resources, even as I participate in creating that pace. In the moment this makes it almost impossible to object in a thoughtful way when something is being said or created that doesn't feel good. I'm decompressing before writing by writing this. Blogging helps to make process-level comments (how something happened, rather than just what) to an imagined readership when I need to feel heard.
Big thanks, by the by, to Scott Mace from Epworth UMC for uploading digital copies of the Epworth services for me to download and hear. I miss Epworth.
Labels: daily, ecology, family, nature
| posted by Unknown @ 6/19/2007 02:40:00 PM
I am my father's publisher.
Here is his latest "piece".
My experience with people who owe me money usually goes like this:
Here is his latest "piece".
My experience with people who owe me money usually goes like this:
Sorry Mr. W This transaction must be completed by snail mail. I comply. It comes back. (much later, without money) I call. I'm on hold for 15 minutes. During that time, I hear, over and over, the message that they are very innovative when it comes to customer service and that there is nothing too good for me. Playing in the background is a drum machine sound bite going constantly in circles. I finally talk with a guy from somewhere in the orient who barely speaks English. He wants my social security number, date of birth, blood type, mother's middle name before birth, and the name of my favorite NFL team. I comply. He finally feels that I am, Indeed, or MAY indeed be some kind of David Williams. He then says "May I have your password, please?" I , who have limited minutes, have now been on the phone for about 35 min. I say, " Maybe in a former life, I may have gotten a pass word, maybe four or five years ago, but right now, I have NO clue what it is. He says "Well, Everybody just got to have a password." I say, "Here is my pass word. ##****####>" He hangs up. I experience instant remorse, get on line and retrieve my friggin pass word, and call back. This time, in order to lubricate the process somewhat, I drink heavily before making the call.
I'm on hold again....the message, the drum machine, finally I get Rosita in Oaxaca. We get acquainted, I tell some one line jokes, she gets the password. Life is good. She says "what can I do for ju mester William." I say, "I'm just trying to get my money that your company owes me." Suddenly, what was becoming what could have been a wonderful long-term relationship, begins to go south. There could be some sort of a pun there if you are so inclined.
Rosita begins explaining their smail policy, in detail. I get up. Go to the kitchen. Get another drinky poo. Watch a re-run of Dragnet. Return to the floor. She is just finishing.
I say, "Look Rosita, You sound like a nice person. Help me out here. What would you do if you were me?" She says, (I can hear her turning off the recorder that is used for training purposes only) Look I gots 14 little keds, a drunken, miserable husband, and live in a cardboard box with two cheekens and my inlaws. What ju would do ef you were me?"
Well, 6 months later I receive 10% of the money.......in pesos. I feel GREAT. I have won! Isn't that so sick that we call that winning? I put the whole thing in an envelope and sent it straight away to................................... Rosita.
Have a nice day.
Dad
Labels: comedy, customerservice, DavidWilliams, family
| posted by Unknown @ 4/07/2007 05:35:00 PM
Surreal, or the Outskirts of the Real?
It's a beautiful day outside in Medford, OR.
Mom (Paula Craig) and I drove half an hour north to Grant's Pass (Grant's Pants) to see beloved cousins (only neice to my Grandfather Paul) Gene and Betty (Ann) Meier. She is struggling with bronchitis and he has new (two weeks) hearing aids, and both are rather surprised to discover themselves in their early eighties. We haven't seen each other since the Christmas of Paula and David's divorce when my grandparents, Paul and Martha Craig, shipped Paula, Meghan, and me off to spend the holidays with the Craigs and Meiers in the latter's home in Huntington Beach (L.A.). Meghan remembers us as 12 and 6 years old. She's probably right. Since then, Betty and Gene moved to Prescott AZ, and then built in a gated community in Grant's Pass "across the river" from their current residence, a lovely but smaller (than 1.5 acres) beautifully furnished home.
I found myself sitting at her bedside, hearing him worry about his sister (nine years older) whom he has just moved from California to a nearby locked facility that can deal with wander- risk dementia cases. She keeps falling but hasn't broken anything yet, which we agree is often the beginning of the end. "That's gotta be the worst way to go," says he. I casually mention, while going through my mother's pictures with them, that "this is our little boy, the one we just lost." On the way home Mom asks if I'm integrating well or just an excellent actor. I'm sure I claimed both, as well as reasonable psychological health. Whatever.
Last night the horizon was issued a citation, with penalties in excess of several million Canadian dollars, for impersonating the best of both Texas' and arctic sunsets. How is beauty of this magnitude still possible?
I gave my Mom a Christmas gift of an mp3 player, so she can carry music with her and control the volume, thereby becoming able to listen to beautiful sounds again. While packing it with some best-of-the-best and inescapable rhythms the "how is this beauty possible" question kept coming up in my heart.
Wise body. Resentful. Holding until the hand cramps and makes hurting impossible to deny or delay (waiting to be entirely alone) entirely.
My mind has no trouble with appreciating how beautiful fragments of life can be, especially on reflection, but my body feels them embedded as shards for all their glistening.
Our last images of Aidan include several from December 4th when he fell against a cabinet door and the pull struck the corner of his mouth which bled and swelled.
The bleeding stopped in almost no time, as usual, but the feeling of having to deal with some profound offense stayed in his body and showed on his face for some time. What to do with pain? Can't make it go away. It insists on itself, and on time. It insists and imposes and grates away some soft, innocent parts to which the body was attached.
In profound discomfort he is a toddler, a "big boy", and no longer a baby here. He looks so much older to me than when he was so small in my arms, looking up into my face, falling into sleep slung in my pouch, walking with the dog under the moon, staff in hand through the cooling night.
This is our little boy, the one we just lost.
I don't want to stop my faithful hurting.
I want my boy back.
I want my boy back.
Labels: aging, Aidan, dying, family, grief, Shepherd
| posted by Unknown @ 12/29/2006 02:32:00 PM
Wise boy. All the steps mentioned are necessary in taming people (including yourself). 1) Neutral Open Greeting, 2) Empathic Courtesy, 3) Clear Process Request, 4) Presence/ Ambivalent Readiness 5) Freedom for difference/ disconnection. My nephew the Zen Master.