Why I'm Not Allowed to Write a Cookbook

Eating is best when surrounded by family

The reasonable woman adapts herself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to herself. Therefore all progress depends upon the unreasonable woman.                                                 George Bernard Shaw

You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.                    Colette

Cooking is a daring adventure each time I enter the kitchen. It is, I am quite sure, less exciting an undertaking for those who cook by actually following a recipe. Cowards! My way is to create, with enthusiasm, with whatever I have on hand. Rarely to never do I drive to town for an ingredient, I simply don't make that dish or wait until the next day. My family is use to my oft used phrase, "eat up because I'm not sure I can create this again." I want to defend my right to cook this way and to acknowledge that I should be ashamed of myself for having so little discipline. It's just that things turn out so well most of the time and that it keeps me flamboyant in the kitchen. I figure I know better, faster and with fewer steps than Cook's Illustrated.  How conceited can you get! 

He/she was bold that first ate an oyster.                                             Jonathan Swift

Although I grew up in a restaurant family it was, after all the 1950's and bland was the model of the day. Everyone was all excited about instant meals a la TV dinners and instant mashed potatoes. Chop Suey was exotic although technically isn't even Chinese. The first time I ever even tasted pizza was at a neighbor's house and I disgraced myself reaching for a fourth piece. They all laughed but I couldn't help it. It was so unusual and delicious. That day a gourmand was born and a curiosity about foods from other countries.

Although America was having a love affair with the mediocre, the incredible contrast were the meals brought home from our restaurant-- always exquisite. It was not unusual to have an entire slab of filet Mignon in the fridge and you could just slice off a hunk and have a delightful sandwich. Oh, to have it now.

When Mom was in the mood, in between slaving away on the six kids, she really was an excellent cook. Pot roasts, chili concarne, stews--- okay, it was a bit heavy on the beef, but no complaints here, it was great. She knew how to make a flavorful, perfect gravy that still has no parallel.

As for me lately, my greatest triumphs tend to be sweet: cookies, cakes and pies. In fact at the pot luck group it was decreed that I wasn't allowed to bring anything but dessert. They all grumble when I'm not there and haven't called ahead to warn them of the missing treat.

Here is the disclosure as to why I am not allowed to write a cookbook: it is because I carelessly fling ingredients into the bowl.  Then, worse, I always taste the raw batter and wing it from there. Does it seem dry? Is it too sweet? Does it lack pizazz? Then I re fling more ingredients to make the taste just right. Obviously this doesn't work too well with instructions. Some might say that's silly, I could quantify, but call me unreasonable but I'm not going to stop and scrupulously measure each little thing that goes into my recipe. After all, wasn't it Julia Child who showed us that the cupped palm of your hand held about one teaspoon? I not only follow that advice but I take it to the next level, a pinch of herbs, some extra chocolate, several more tablespoons of butter--- you see, hopeless.

My granddaughter and I with the homemade treats for the soccer team

I have a ridiculous number of cookbooks [35? 50?] and have tried unsuccessfully to weed them down. I'm thinking of putting stickers on them and if I haven't used them in one year, out they go. Now, you're probably wondering "why on earth does she need cookbooks if she's disobedient about following their instructions?" The answer: I get inspiration from them and read them like they're novels. So if in the future of this blog I do write down any recipes, remember they are subject to tasting and adjusting. And if you can't bear to taste raw dough, well I do find that reasonable or sensible but I'll think you lack guts.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Earth Day in Our Little Corner of the World

The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.                             Ralph Waldo Emerson

Snowflakes are one of natures' most fragile things, but just look what they can do when they stick together.                                                         Vesta M. Kelly

With some gal pals

Earth day. I made an effort to eat left-overs and ride my bike instead of drive my truck. Big deal. That's my first thought. My second thought is this: wonder if everyone did that just for today. Better mathematicians than I could come up with a nifty statistic on how much gas and fuel was saved by biking and eliminating an elaborate meal. In my humble opinion, some action toward helping the planet is better than no action at all.

Years ago I read a book by Margaret Meade's daughter [Mary Catherine Bateman] that said in essence, "we should take care of our earth as a good parent takes care of a home and family, with loving devotion." So to my way of thinking, it's the old standards like: a place for everything and everything in it's place, no poisonous substances to harm anyone, if you make a mess take responsibility and clean it up. Doesn't sound too wild does it? So why is it OK for large corporations [who are apparently people too] to pollute, mess up and poison us and not be held responsible?

Right now in the NW we are waging a battle with a coal company who wants to transport, by open rail car, an egregious amount of coal up to Cherry Point, Wa. Did I mention this would be in open box cars with the coal dust flying all over the northwest and oh, yes it for China, not even for the people of this country? Silliness.

Getting our priorities straight is the responsibility of all good citizens of this beautiful earth. We are only here for a relatively short amount of time and while we are we need to pull together to make things better even if it is just our small corner of the world. I can't think of a better way to expend energy than to make sure that future generations have this lush green earth for their children's children.
So and again this is all about love, LOVE YOUR MOTHER! and this case it is mother earth. Go outside and explore, walk gently and look for beauty all around.

susansmagicfeather copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Undies Designed by Misogynists

My idea of comfort

I expect to pass through this world but once.  Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to my fellow-creatures, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.            Stephen Grellet

I had the unhappy experience recently of having to buy new bras. Never a fun proposition especially as you are fitted in a room the size of a small closet by a young woman who wears a size 0. Those days are long gone from me to say nothing to the fact that I was never a size 0 and flatter myself to think I was curvy instead. I'm still curvy but sadly it's because some of the curves come from drooping flesh on my back. Those three way mirrors hide nothing. So I submitted to the measuring due to the fact I had read in a popular magazine that 70% of women are wearing the wrong size bra.

With my instructions, "I don't want any bras that are going to be uncomfortable and I hate under wire," the saleswoman brought in half a dozen of the lovely lacy undergarments. The first one fit fine and I thought, "Wow maybe I have been wearing the wrong size and this is going to work!" So daringly I said, "what the heck, throw an under wire into the mix, I"ll give it a try." I left the store with a mission accomplished grin and drove home.

The next day I decided to wear that first bra I tried on, it had good support was lovely and no under wire. It was my new size which had a smaller band and bigger cup size. Frankly, I noticed not one iota of difference from my old bra as I pulled on my turtle neck top. "Who cares, I'm now wearing the right size bra," I thought to myself feeling smug in my new purchase.

We had to travel quite a distance to get back home and so I was wearing the bra for the entire day, or so I thought. When we arrived home, one of my friends asked me to come to her house for a Scrabble game and I drove over for a rousing game. By this time I'd had the bra on for 10 hours and I sincerely felt like I was having a heart attack, my breathing was labored and my chest was tight. Hmm, tight? What the...! I undid that sucker, finished the game and went home.

When I got home I said to Mr. G "your underwear shouldn't hurt and try to strangle you!" This is so not OK. Then I got to thinking, who designed the first bra? And ladies, the answer is ---Howard Hughes, who had OCD and was a certified nut case. He wanted the breasts to have the shape of  torpedoes. Doesn't this strike you as cruel?

The ouch factor

Years ago Steve Martin wrote a humorous book entitled "Cruel Shoes" and from the number of women who I see parading down the street with 5" heels he underestimated the degree of pain women are willing to endure for fashion. My own Grandma Gert used to say, "beauty knows no pain," and we'd laugh. The joke is on us now and in every department store women are encouraged to cope with discomfort for the sake of style.

I'm wearing one of my old bras today, one that is supposedly the wrong size and guess what, I'm not in pain.

In deference to the saleswoman perhaps I need to lose five pounds and then the bras wouldn't be so uncomfortable, it could be my fault. Once I said this to my Mom, "I'm thinking about losing five or ten pounds" and she said, "don't bother it will just hang." I thought that was unkind but now I realize the truth in that statement. The new curvy for the over sixty crowd appears to be droopy. That is just sad.

I have no fabulous conclusion to this article. I have to wear a bra and I always notice when women aren't wearing one, it does screw up the look of your clothing unless you are incredibly flat chested. So I am returning two of the three bras that I bought, I'll keep the one and hope that either it or I get better with age. Not likely in either case but what the ...I'm nothing if not optimistic.

susansmagicfeather 2012 copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Unlucky Unforgiven Figures It Out

Many years ago went I was in college I had the most marvellous experience. In our school they were trying something new, they were matching roommates based on a questionnaire that they sent to all incoming freshman. I diligently answered all the questions to the best of my abilities and voila, got a roommate who exactly match my questionnaire. I was excited. We corresponded all through the summer and on the day my parents were driving me to the University got a letter from the "perfect fit" that said she'd decided to go to another college. O, no, I thought.

By temperment [and perhaps with a dash of geneology thrown in] I tend to be an anxious person, especially at the tender age of eighteen. This news was not good to me and I only imagined disasterous outcomes. Included in the same mail was the name of my new roommate who was from Ohio. At least I had a name of the girl I was to room with. We arrived at the University a couple of days prior to classes starting. Back in the day [everyone seems to use this sentence...] there was no glad handing students and there was skimpy welcoming committees, but to have my little sister, and my parents present [who ordinarily never went to any of my events] was thrilling to me. They got to meet A. She had changed her mind about the roommate she was given and we two were the "odd woman out" and got each other. After we met her all of us agreed she was indeed a good match for me.

This proved to be more than true. To this day there are very few people who can make me belly laugh they way A could. We had the most wonderful time together and she was up for anything and had such a good spirit. Her story telling was fabulous and I counted myself as so lucky. Our pacing was perfect, neither one of us minded going alone to classes, dances, study halls etc., the relationship had all the best aspects to it, it was so good. Interestingly, most the women in the dorm who had been computer matched had terrible times and ended up changing roommates. Ha!

Ours was such a successful pairing that we roomed together after we moved out, Sophomore year, into college housing with several of the other great women we'd met on the floor of our dorm. These are to this day wonderful women and I am in touch with two out of the five happily. Unhappily not the one that was my roommate.

Through the years, I have thought endlessly about what happened to that friendship. 'A' claimed that it "was a waste of time to continue corresponding when she was living on the East coast and I the West". I frankly don't believe it. Something I said or did infuriated her and she abruptly cut me off. I was sad and reeled from this for quite sometime, never could figure out what the hell I did to destroy this very good friendship. I would have bought the "were on other coasts and will probably never see each other again" except she is in constant contact with one of the other roommates. So it is/was me. Me, all about me.

Part of me laughs at this. I have made dozens of other good friends, I have overcome most of the anxiety in my temperment, I have a rich and great relationship with my husband and thankfully, gratefully, treasure my entire family. So that this sticks in my mind every so often feels, well, odd. Odd woman out.

Fredrick Luskin, in his book Forgive for Good, address almost an identical problem that he had with a very close friend cutting him off. It does leave you stunned and bewildered. My dear therapist Lorie Dwinell calls this "emotional cut-off". Of course it is ten times worse if the person cutting you off is one you're married to but that can be apples and oranges. So at the risk of repeating myself from the post of 4/4/11, I will include what has helped me  and my clients when this kind of thing happens.

Here is the essence from the book on what Luskin calls the nine steps and I will summarize:

 Nine Steps

1. Know how you feel about the incident [s] and what was wrong. Tell  several safe people what happened.
2. Make a strong commitment to yourself to do whatever it is to feel better. 
3. Reconciliation may not be possible [especially with someone who was abusive]. Luskin says, "forgiveness can be defined as the peace of understanding...taking the life experience less personally and changing your grievance story."
4. Your primary upset is coming from the thoughts, [often obsessive] hurt feelings and physical involvement that is intruding on your life now. "Forgiveness helps to heal those hurt feelings."
5. Learn how to use relaxation techniques to soothe yourself when upset.
6. "Give up expecting things from other people that they do not choose to give you." Let go of other people's feelings and take care of yourself religiously.
7. Focus on getting your positive goals met rather than endlessly focusing on what has hurt you. Can you use this hurt experience for good?
8. "Forgiveness is about personal power." Empower the positive gifts in your life, "Learn to look for love, beauty and kindness around you."
9. Finally "amend your grievance story to remind you of the heroic choice to forgive."  

When all is said and done I not only forgive A but I do forgive myself. I wish that I had the perspacity to suss out what I needed to say or do to make it OK. I wish I could have said: "I thank you most sincerely for all the great laughs and good times we had together and so my friend, I am, at your request saying good bye."

susanmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Is it Excitement or Certainty?

This is the epitome of fun unless it's prolonged and makes you sick

Know what you know, see what you see and believe what your guts are telling you.
Susan R. Grout

I always bring this phrase into counseling as early as possible with my clients. However, things get a bit wonky when it comes to choices in relationships. Sometimes excitement takes the place of certainty in people's lives. I have seen this over and over again with people who fall in love with the ones who are going to bring them heart ache and chaos. This, by any other name, is excitement and especially for those people who were raised in chaotic homes it feels semi comfortable or at least familiar. Best to give examples.

Years ago a young woman that I worked with "Rose"* lived with then married a man who not only frightened her but also had a drug problem. Her excuse was that when the relationship was good, "there is no better feeling in the world" he was everything that she desired, smart, sexy and sometimes fun to be with. However the question I posed to her, which I use to most of my couples in therapy, "by percentage how much of the time is this relationship warm, wonderful, comforting, sexy, loving, and safe." "Ah,"  she said, "maybe 20% of the time." "Explain to me what the 80% looks like and why that's OK." "Well, I've had other relationships and they were so dull by comparison, in him I never know what's going to happen day to day and it really keeps me on my toes." "And this is a good way to live?" I said. "Well, it's what keeps me coming back to him and I've been unable to leave him for over ten years."

In a nutshell Rose's relationship became based on fear--- not love and she kept desperately trying to turn the man into a kind, good, competent lover who she thought she was getting at the beginning of the relationships. Had she only put on her 'Lois Lane the reporter' outfit and interviewed all of his former lovers, family and friends, she would have indeed punctured his veneer as a 'great guy'. He was inept, especially around women and I believe he was misogynistic, not my favorite kind of man. Truly the way he held on to his women was to subtly at first, and later overtly, belittle and humiliate them make them doubt and distrust themselves. Then they believe that they are the lowest of the low and it's hard to stand up for yourself when you're reduced to crawling. In essence, this is the classic abusive pattern. When I pointed this out to Rose she said, "he's never so much as shoved me!" And I said, "yeah, but verbally he's been bashing you for years." [see the post of 6/10/12 "Now Spit, Songs from the Little Shop of Horrors."]

How on earth do sensible women [and a few good men] fall prey to this abuse and put up with it? It's all based on fear, insecurity and power. The bullies of this world have an addiction to being in control [in power] and a degree of narcissism ["if it's good for me it's good"]. Add to that mixture the bullies have an enormous fear their partner is going to leave them. Hence, they become more controlling still, striking fear into their loved ones hearts. In the macro climate these are the oppressive dictators of the world, in the micro climate these are the abusive beasties of households. Terrorists all. So in answer to the question as why do they stay, it's because of the 20% that's good and the lies that they tell their victims about how their lives will be ruined if they protest or leave. The women keep irrationally hoping that the dictators are telling the truth. They aren't.

Tonight I was listening to Terry Gross on the radio interviewing Carole King the famous musician. Carole confessed in her new book that she was in an abusive relationship with a man who occasionally hit her. She said, "I couldn't decide if I should put that in the book. My now husband said, 'just write it and see if it feels right.' I decided to leave it in because if just one woman reads about me who had money and everything going for me could be in an abusive relationship, they could too and they could get help and get out as I finally did."

Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it.     Helen Keller

Some of the Roses that I worked with had the good fortune to make new friends and build a better support system and were able to move on. This was with a great deal of mourning: more for the relationship that might have been and for the loss of their dreams than the reality of the abusiveness they experienced. Then they had to forgive themselves for staying as long as they did with their untenable situations. Letting go is essential to getting on with life, always.

The sixteen points below are copied from my post of 6/10/12. Here is roughly what I see as essential to recovery from abuse or traumatic relationships for the Roses of my practice:

1. We work diligently toward the ability to respect, admire, love, trust and value yourself and spring forth from love in all of your dealings with yourself and others. [I wrote this for workshops I did in the late '80's.]
2. Go to someone that you feel safe with and start the process of telling what did happen to you. [Therapist, group, priest, rabbi, shaman...]
3. Give yourself enough time to see if that person [that you feel safe with] is trustworthy and then inch forward for deeper secrets from your past that make you feel imprisoned.
4. Educate yourself on the best methods of recovery including the 12 Step programs that have a remarkable history of success.
5. Establish a safe living environment, establish relationships that enhance you.
6. Let go of people who strike fear into your heart no matter how attracted you are to them.
7. Face your grief and sorrow over what happened in the past with the knowledge that this too shall pass.
8. Be willing to let go of repetitive destructive thoughts [the brain may want to return to these thoughts because it is an old habit].
9. Be willing to love without fear.
10. Be willing to challenge yourself.
11. Remember that life is a "cha-cha" and you will take a step backwards occasionally because you are human.
12. Forgive yourself, and do make amends to the ones that you have hurt.
13. The truth is no one is better than you and no one is worse than you.
14. Be judicious prior to being open with people.
15. Learn to value your opinions.
16. Never forget that the abuse/trauma happened but be willing to forgive. Even the Jews had to come to this conclusions about the Holocaust.

Another one of my dictum's about life is to find something amusing each day, and to commit to staying loving and open. None of us has to be victims of our pasts, life can be wide and open. Break away for the old tired refrains, be willing to live in the present and face the truth of your life don't go back to sleep.



*Rose is actually a compilation of many of the women I've seen in abusive relationships.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Mean Mrs. Grout

No one goes hungry around our house, some get more than their share...

This post is written to finally put an end to the nasty rumors that started over thirty years ago about me. Though incredibly tickled that I had become a threat used by mothers all over our small town I believe it is time to put the record straight.

Here's what really happened over thirty years ago. One night I had overcompensated for our usual humble dinners and made "Chicken a la Orange" with a fine sauce and a fussed over chicken. I proudly placed the meal on the table and one of my sons groaned and said, "oh, no, not this!" I started  to silently fume or do my usual: try to talk the uninterested into becoming willing. Then a thought struck me. I said, "hey, OK, you don't want to eat it and I don't want to cook it." My son put his head on the table and said, "I feel like I killed the world." My husband quickly added, "I love your cooking..." in response to our sons angst but by then I was kind but firm about my resolution. From that day forward I stopped cooking for my family.

Sounds drastic, right? Well in my defense it was June and there was an abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables available. The kids were out for summer and none of us was particularly interested in laboriously prepared meals. So I stopped cooking. I made sure there was a wonderful and varied supply of breads and crackers, along with the fruits and veggies. Then I really stocked up on the cheeses--- pounds and pounds of cheese. Milk and OJ always available in the fridge. Cereal prominent in the cupboard and...that about covers it. I had a delightful summer, went boating with friends, had long leisurely picnics with my family, went out to eat a couple of times [we weren't exactly rolling in dough so only a couple of times] and declared it very good.

The summer wound down to fall and soon school was approaching. By this time I overheard several women say to their fussy off spring, "if you don't eat your food, I'll do what Mrs. Grout did..."  and it made me laugh every time I heard it. The truth is I started happily cooking again after the summer was over. In truth I missed it, I love to cook. But I have heard it said about "Mrs. Grout" that I stopped cooking for one year. Let the record show, it was barely two and a half months. I did like being used as a severe example though, I believe it gave me a certain pizzaz.

The outfall from the cooking strike? To this day I've never heard anything but gratitude and appreciation from either son and my husband when I, or anyone else for that matter, serves them  a meal. Goes to show ya.

We love to feed those we love and we all love good food.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Honeymoon Period

I love being married. I was single for a time and I just got so sick of finishing my own sentences.                                Brian Kiley

We sleep in separate rooms, we have dinner apart, we take separate vacations--we're doing everything we can to keep our marriage together.            Rodney Dangerfield

My husband retired after twenty years at a job that he loved. He traveled home each week end from another city and we relished the bits of time we had together. All of that changed two weeks ago when he arrived home looking for all the world like a homeless vagabond who lives out of his car--it was was filled to capacity.  The unpacking alone took the better part of that afternoon and evening. Boxes are still strewn all over the upstairs.

People frequently ask us in a disparaging tone of voice, "what are you two going to do with each other?" as if the dreaded "for better or for worse, but not for lunch," equation would ruin an otherwise ideal arrangement. I say, "Hey, we actually like each other and have been looking forward to this retirement for years."

A man's friends like him but leave him as he is: his wife loves him and is always trying to turn him into somebody else.                 G.K. Chesterton

However there are differences. I am a tidy, 'everything in it's place' person and he loves and is loyal to objects, especially paper, and he likes them out where he can see them. Stacks of paper, bills piled in no particular order, very discouraging to me. When we lived separately we agreed that I had to give him three days notice prior to my visits. And if I couldn't do that I had to take what I found at the house and shut up about it. Such a model of restraint I was! Funny, but he disagrees. One of my tiny flaws besides my impatience is my ability to get huffy over silly things. I know I'm doing it and it seems so right at the moment. One of my better qualities is the ability to admit when I'm dead wrong and apologize. I do, frequently. Both: I'm dead wrong and I do apologize.

So far, since he is busily getting my office ready in our guest house, I haven't bugged him too much about putting his things away. However I did offer, quite nicely I might add, to do it myself and surprisingly he declined. Hmmm, I wonder why? I am so full to the brim of ways he could live his life if he'd only take dictation...Melding these two opposing lifestyles is a challenge but frankly one I've been looking forward to for twenty years.

This is the end to many things. No more scrambling around to get him to the ferry each Sunday and picking him up on the week end. No more making a few extra meals to send with him [his idea of cooking is cheese and crackers]. No more sleeping alone during the week. No more doing virtually everything by myself. Now I have a buddy and a friend and it is really nice to have him home at last.

I have somethings to get used to as well. My pattern of more than twenty five years is to religiously check my messages at my office at least three times a day, morning, noon and night. Now that I've moved my office home I catch myself wanting to check those messages and then remember, "oh yeah, that phone is no more". It feels great though peculiar to be home as much as I am. My cat Rufus adores it. Granted I have been whittling the amount of time at my office for at least a couple of years. I worked four and a half days for most of my 25 years in private practice and it is only in the last few that I cut back to three days and now it's down to two days, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Feels good but weird. I feel like I'm getting away with something and someone is going to accuse me of being a slacker at any moment. Could be part of my 'fast twitch' personality or the fact that I've voluntarily and happily worked since I was fourteen years old.

If a man speaks in a forest and there is no woman around to hear him, is he still wrong?                  Jerry Dennis

Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight.                    Phyllis Diller

Ours is not a boring marriage. As I mentioned we are different in so many ways [tidiness, height, temperament, slow twitch muscles vs. fast twitch muscles] and similar in many more [love of family and friends, politics, ideas, ideals, dreams, activities, fiestiness, logic, do good-ism] . Seems to me that marriage is not a word, but a paragraph. In a good marriage there are a kaleidoscope of colorful views for each couple that they dance with and mostly meld. The most successful ones in my book still have their arguments but do so quickly and with exasperation rather than fury. We're just not going to agree on each detail of life and god, help us if we did, how boring would that be? We have all the same arguments, they're just quicker. I recommend this for the couples that I see. I also add, throw in humor whenever appropriate. It helps. Better to laugh and make fun rather than pout and withdraw.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

What Women Really Want

Three of my sisters and I singing my Mother into the grave

The greatest question...which I have not been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is "What does a woman want?"

Sigmund Freud

Freud's problem was that he thought there would be one answer to the above question and failed to listen [or believe] to the women around him. Did he even ask them what they wanted? I guess not. For me, it's quiet simply to have all the world's children safe, loved and cared for, especially all of the children in my extended family. I bet if you asked a bunch of mothers around you  they would say something similar. Ask a woman who's never had or wanted children and she may take quite a different approach like wanting to have all the homeless animals of the world cared for. So, it is much more complex question than Dr. Freud imagined, as are women much more complex than Dr, Freud imagined. Philistine.

As I write this, so many of the world's children are not loved, safe and cared for and in fact they are starving. If you keep your mind on this horrendous fact it's hard to do anything but despair. That's precisely why I write a good sized check to CARE because rather than just feeling bad about the state of the world's children, I act. [see my post on guilt, "Letting Go of the Guilt Machine", 11/7/11] Perhaps not perfect, I could be donating more money and even volunteering to go to an out post in a third world country, helping to feed the hungry. Keep also in mind "the perfect is the enemy of the good." [Voltair] So, honestly doing something is far better than doing nothing. Think: if everyone in our affluent country contributed just a portion of their extra dough and the corporations that control the food surpluses distrubted that food around the world, I sincerely doubt there would be starving children anywhere on the globe. Interestingly, the movie that's in town right now addresses that very subject in a wildly futuristic way: "The Hunger Games" which is about a governmental power of the future that is controling the food supply in the most repulsive, repressive way. Grim thought, but on the other hand, isn't this the effect that 'reality TV's' is having on our viewing population? I think it's hardening people's hearts to other's misfortunes? Shades of the Roman Empire and their idea of entertainment...

If you think that education is expensive, try ignorance.                        Derek Bok

We don't need no education...All and all it's just another brick in the wall.       Pink Floyd

I have this naive hope that if people were only educated they would do the right thing by other nations and especially the ones with the starving children. The children of the world are our future. Why, in heavens name, wouldn't we make the best possible future for these children? Almost every study you read about oppressive regimes [the Taliban, Idi Amin, etc.] states that they purposefully foster illiteracy and also purposely improverish their people so they have more control over them. Women are especially targeted in oppressive regimes, actively discouraged from any form of education, not allowed to go to any school. Ironically, the greatest advances made in these third world countries comes from educating women and allowing them to make a living. Happily, there are many organizations who are combatting this ridiculous practice of oppressing people by controlling the food and withholding schools. So there is a battle to help educate these people and build the schools in the third world countries, this is one battle that I am all for. Get out your checkbook.

It perplexes me greatly that the bunk of our chartible dollars are going to countries to fund their war machines. Face it: there are more than enough weapons in this world, and enough is enough. I ask the same question of our country's military and Pentagon budget. Why are we over funding the already affluent big brass, and grossly expensive weaponry, and underfunding the men and women who are fighting our wars? Am I preaching to the choir? I hope so, then join me in opposing this stupidity.

I have this niggling suspicion that more charitable dollars are collected for an animal's welfare than for children's. This is a chronic concern and complaint of mine. Now, remember, I don't want to fall into black and white thinking so collecting dollars for animals is not "bad" it's a good thing, I just wish it was better for the kids.

Each year I help with a fund raiser for 'The Family Umbrella Group' an organization in our town which gives scholarships to the families of preschoolers. Stunningly, over 97% of the money raised goes directly to the families for the children's preschool education. Fabulous. Monies spent on children especially in their earliest years gives back to the communities and society, ten fold. Early childhood education is truly priceless and  yet there is always a shortage of funds for this very worthy cause. Also, every year I ardently hope that we'll surpass the amount of money that's collected by the annual Animal Shelter's fund raiser. So far we only do about half of what the animals rake in. Sad but true.

So, I humbly ask you, what do you want? Hopefully the answer has something to do with making the world a better place for both children and animals and at the risk of sounding like a beauty pagent contestant, WORLD PEACE. 

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Nurturing in the hood: motherhood, fatherhood, sisterhood and brotherhood



Is there anything more dear than a Daddy feeding his one year old son Birthday cake?
Obviously our one year old granddaughter is thrilled by her chocolate cake.


I've been thinking about the importance of nurturing in our lives, of nurturing and being nurtured. The healthiest people that I see in my business have a clear sense of direction and a good connection to people, nature, community, and country. They nurture someone or something. The reason connection and nurturing is so very important to me is that it actually defines who I am: a mother, a Grandma, a citizen, a wife, a counselor, a woman, a writer, a warrior for a cause, an embracer of truth, joy, hope and love. [That is a fun little exercise, try it... defining who you are in less than twenty words.]

When I started working in the field of psychology [while still in college]I found to my utter dismay and shock that not every parent is nurturing. I worked in a children's hospital and there were the parents who wouldn't even visit their children. Incredibly sad, isn't it? But since I don't know the whole story it's really silly to speculate on their callous behavior. I was young, a "Play Therapist' who delivered toys, some caring attention and fun to these very sick children. One little boy, really not much more than a baby, was Arthur. One of the nurses took me aside and said, "you should spend some time with Arthur, he's really very sweet and no one visits him." "Of course I will" I said having no idea just how sick he was. So I set aside time to be with him each day that I worked. When I entered his room he'd sort of bounce and grunt when he saw me. He was darling with deep chocolate brown eyes and the most incredibly long curly eyelashes, a perfect mouth, tight curly dark brown hair and his unfortunate fluid filled Buddha body. He had a kidney disease that had profoundly affected him since birth. He was unable to speak or even crawl due to the abdominal girth but he was able to sit up and semi bounce and grunt when pleased. We'd read books and I would show him toys that he'd hold to his chest. I grew to love him, he was dear to me.

One day I went to work, it was about a month prior to our leaving Ohio for the northwest, and I waltzed up the stairs to my floor in the hospital. I took the toys around as usual finally getting to Arthur's room and his crib was empty. "I wasn't told they'd moved him" I thought, and went to inquire. "Hey, where's Arthur's new room?" "Oh, didn't anyone tell you, he died on Saturday," said the nurse quite casually. I clutched my chest, turned on my heel and ran down the stairs out to the parking lot, sobbing, sobbing. I was too young and it was my first brush with the death of a child, one I cared about. That was my last day at that hospital, I couldn't go back.

What this did give me, this little Arthur in my life, was the first inkling of how precious life can be. Another thing, it is always worth it to love someone even if the end of love is painful. I also hope that in writing the above that I have properly honored Arthur. I have no idea if there was a grief stricken family that I should have contacted. But I didn't ask and I can see now that was a shame. I claim youth and ignorance as my excuse. So here is my tribute to that little boy. Arthur, you are not forgotten, you are still loved.

Two very natural nurturers

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.                                           Leo Buscalgia 

To some, nurturing comes very naturally, they just ease into the warmth of another with joy and love. With others, it has to be taught. So what. So learn to be nurturing, get out there and start. The benefits are enormous and they spill over from the one giving the nurturing to the ones who get it. Pluses all around.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved