And Then the Women Said "What?"

Who does not love wine, women and song
Remains a fool his whole life long.
Johann Heinrich Voss

These days many of us are shaking our heads in wonderment, is this pre-1920?  Yesterday was the anniversary of the day women got the right to vote, 8/26/1920. This should be celebrated with homage and cheer to the hard working suffragettes who helped bring this about. However, this is not the case everywhere. What concerns me is I'm getting the strong impression that certain segments of our population would just as soon we lost, not only our right to vote, but also our right to privacy. The is a devolution.

A very elementary thought: isn't what happens between a woman and her doctor private? It certainly is true for men. In my business, I hold sacred the rights of my clients to keep whatever is said in my office in confidence. The exceptions: the client is a danger to themselves or others. An example [one that is true for counselors and doctors everywhere] is that if the client is being abused, or is suicidal or worse homicidal, then someone must be alerted. Other than that it is private, and as sacred as the priest hearing a confession. I don't repeat outside office what I've heard inside without the written permission of the client.

So, why is it OK for the politicians to be dictating that women must divulge what is between her and her doctor? Well, it's not OK ever. If that trust is broken then it should be true for any man considering a vasectomy or penile enlargement, or Viagra for that matter. Do you see sweat forming on some of the male brows? I do because this is a logical argument. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Just as for a young man, any grown woman over the age of 18 has a right to privacy between herself and her doctor.

I don't believe in calling anyone a name but...

Here is the party that supposedly wants government off our backs, but they make

A woman's body can prevent pregnancy in cases of 'legitimate' rape.
Todd Akin,  Republican from Mo. a questionable member of the House Science Committee

There are in fact two things, science and opinion: the former begets knowledge, the latter ignorance.               Hippocrates, Law

Let's connect the dots. Who, I must ask all American voters, has the babies? Who brings that baby into the world? Who earned the right to vote in 1920 through a hard fought battle? Who has tried to keep these baby givers and voters restricted? I have a hint for you, it's not the Democrats. And it's not the Democrats who have it in their platform that no abortion is allowed, even in the case of incest or rape. Is this a loving, nurturing, concerned or caring platform for women? Is it right to attack the victim of a rape by requiring her to carry the child of her violent abuser? Isn't this just another form of abuse? Why and how can they justify no right to privacy for a victim of rape or incest? The fact is, horribly, most of the victims of incest are under the age of sixteen. So, not allowing her to have an abortion is a form of child abuse. In essence, they are recommending child abuse in their platform. Think about it: this is almost as egregious as the sexual abuse that the little girl suffered.

When an entire party agrees that abuse of little girls and women is acceptable and allowable, there is a word for that---misogyny. It means hatred of women and they will be misogynists all if they vote to OK this stupid platform.

There, of course, is a solution to the above. Vote for candidates who actually like and love women. Who respect our rights to privacy. Who would never dream of taking away your grandmother's right to vote because she doesn't have a driver's license and hence no photo ID.

As simplistic as this sounds, vote for your daughter's rights, vote for your mother's, your granddaughter's and your grandmother's rights. Vote to honor women, not to disrespect them. Do so with love and gratitude that women have these rights and sincerely do not want to lose them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.

Groutfest 2012



Many divergent activities at Groutfest 2012



Fun at the fair!

Girl cousins--- sharp shooters

It is more or less inexplicable why the best times are with family. I believe, in part, it's an event that resonates with all the most delicious fun and laughter. We revel in each others quirks and idiosyncrasies [did you ever notice that if you hyphenated that word it could be 'idio-sin-crazies', good name for our band]. Though, to tell you the truth, I am exhausted from all the days of entertaining the hoards, mind you, it's a good exhaustion, one that makes you sink onto the couch and smile with the memories.

Here are a some of those memories.  J, our seven year old grandson, on one of those very hot nights awakened Mr. G at 5 AM. Mr. G-"J, what is it?" J- "Papa I can't sleep because of the lines.' Mr. G- "What lines J?" J- "Here, I'll show you". So he goes into his bedroom and J shows him that there is a tiny bit of light coming in from the curtain that's pushed aside to let air in. Mr. G- "J is this what you mean??" J- "YES!" So, he pushed the curtain tight thereby cutting off any chance of air circulation, creating a sauna. Another time J complained that the girls, who were sleeping across the way in the guest house, were keeping him awake. Mr. G -"J, how can that be, you have curtains to block the light". J- "Well, if you stand on this chair and pull the curtain back you can see the light!"

The mainstay of Groutfest

Then there is our seven year old granddaughter, who takes every opportunity to cartwheel, do back-bends into a kick over, endlessly. She is devoted to our 14 year old cat and carries him everywhere. Our eight year old grandson, S with his skinny arms was able to ring the bell in the carnival game, first try, and won a prize. Our ten year old granddaughter, La, is such a good sport, she loves being with her older cousins and yet is a good natured about being with the younger kids with nary a complaint. My older son helped fix up a rusty old bike of mine so that La and I could take what I thought would be a short ride down our road. This was not to be. We went out to a main road, up several hills and down several miles to a small lake where we put our feet in the water. It wasn't until we got back home that I found out La had only one workable gear on my old bike. As I said, a good, uncomplaining sport.

A winner of the first heat, the long narrow car named, 'boardwalk'.

The zucchini is on top of a red shoe, and they named this entry, 'shoefly'.

We don't do anything extravagant, we BBQ, play games, talk, talk and eat. When I'm more physically able we hike, this time it was hot for the NW and so we went swimming instead and, of course to the fair. Our boys entered their creations in the 'Zucchini 500'. Yes, each of the cars has a zucchini on top of it. They had a blast racing their 'cars'. We only wished we'd squashed the competition. S came close.

My parents hosted many a family reunion and my father famously said, "I love to see you all come and I love to see you go." I didn't get it then, but I do now. Good exhaustion is still exhaustion. My Mom said after our get togethers when she was in her 70's and 80's, "I'd stay in bed the entire day after you all left." We aren't that bad yet. We went to the fair Saturday, yet again, to hear our niece and nephew in law's band and even rode our bikes. So, see, while we still have our relative 'youth', and by next year I'll have that shiny new hip. Do come to Groutfest 2013, you're invited. It's a ball!

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers---

That perches in the soul---

And sings the tune without the words---

And never stops--at all---

Emily Dickinson

When you consider all of the problems that can befall someone, having a hip that needs repair seems fairly insignificant. That is, I might add, for those who are not in the throws of facing surgery and having to wait more than two months while in pain. Not fun. However, I'm quite sure that I'll get in prior to the two months estimated time limit. I have hope. Foolish? False? Not sure, don't care.

Hope is a peculiar beast, definitely more an owl than a vulture. And I am a creature of my era because I can have the owl perching on my soul. I am going to have the most modern and helpful of techniques: a total hip replacement. If this was fifty years ago, I would be one of those prematurely old women hobbling around with my cane, no hope of recovery. You see, as I did my own X-rays, my hip is "very deteriorated", bone on bone. Even I felt sorry for my poor little left hip when my husband and I gazed at the X-rays in the doctor's office. My right hip, bless its stalwart bones, looks textbook beautiful and I'm not sure I've ever, until now, been in love with a bone prior to gazing on its perfect looking X-ray. I'm thanking the stars that I won't have to have another surgery.

It has never been, and never will be, easy work! But the road that is built in hope is more pleasnat to the traveler than the road built in despair, even though they lead to the same destination.                                        Marion Zimmer Bradley

I am in the business of hope based on more than thirty five years of counseling people on how to live their life differently. Counseling is nothing if it's not mind expanding, world enlarging and option giving. I guess what I most love about it, is watching the person before me come to the AH! It has to be their AH! and that's why one of my familiar statements to my clients is, "do you have to do everything that I say?" Because, of course, the answer is NO! I have loads of ideas and experience but it has got to be the shining light in the other's mind, eyes and heart that is just right for them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved