X-Files…part 1 of 4

Today my world is filled with thoughts of ageing, declining health and dying. Cheery, I know! But, it's odd how the universe arranges things through synchronicity.

BEING MORTAL - Medicine and What Matters in the End, the book by the wonderful medical writer, surgeon and lecturer Atul Gawande (think of a cross between Oliver Sacks and Malcolm Gladwell) stares up at me from my desk. Oddly, the sticker the library slapped on its cover says Health & Fitness. Even they don't know how to categorize a discussion on, what will come to most of us, facing the end of our life.

One of the first posts I read on FB today is from a dreamer friend who shared this THE BIG SLEEP on FB - check it out I'll wait…

And just now, somewhat in denial, I begin to write an e-mail to a 100 year old beloved former client turned friend. My fingers get heavy on the keys as I clear the lump in forming in my throat. She's probably died. The New Year's e-mail that I sent to her had bounced back; address no longer available. Despite her advanced years L was pretty skilled at the computer so…I check the obits and there it is; a loving and brief announcement, date of death Nov 14th.

E-mail to L; delete.

Looking for things to calm the restlessness building up within, I delete old, no longer needed files.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
… hoping that this will clear things out of my mind.

Short stories I wrote about my struggles with my parents' ageing and declining health pop up on the screen. I laugh at one titled X-FILES in honour of X-Files' Mulder and Skully's penchant for using flashlights during every investigation. "Turn on the damn lights!" I'd shout at the screen. But, to no avail. My mother like Mulder and Skully wasn't a fan of overhead lighting. We Thackers are all night people. Throughout my life, navigating my way to bed late at light was like being in a training school for the blind.

*    *    *

Perfect. Rod had adjusted the light just right. A crisp beam is cast on my side of the bed leaving him cocooned in darkness so that only soft early stage of sleep snores betray his presence.

Ah ... I softly exhale, gently settling down on the futon having tip toed across the room and slipped out of my jeans, miraculously without disturbing him; he’s such a light sleeper. Mindfully I catch a whiff of peppermint tea wafting into my nostrils as I blow on its steamy surface before a sip passes through barely parted lips. And just as thoughtfully I place it on a ceramic tile on the floor, beside the bed. A barely audible sigh of contentment escapes as I open my paperback Awakening the Buddha Within by Lama Surya Das. I pause to allow a wave of gratitude wash over me for a day full of simple pleasures - car washed, treatments done, dinner shared with Mom and Dad, a beautiful sunny day …

“Shit, shit, shit. Goddamn it all to hell!” I slap my book shut and slam it down onto my thigh.

“What the ...?” Rod torques his upper body in my direction groggily shielding his eyes.

“Ah, damn it! I forgot to fill the fucking docette.”

“Language? Geeze it’s as if you’ve got Tourette’s or something.”

“Sorry. When I get pissed off ...  can’t help myself ... Dad does it too ... low tolerance for frustration ... some kind of conditioned response further habituated by ...”

“Do I really have to hear this now?” he interrupts.

Distractedly I grab my jeans off the floor. “Left it on the friggin’ counter. Must have gotten side tracked. Shit I’ll have to go over and fill it.” 

“Now?” he picks up the digital clock recording the time with blood red numbers and thrusts it into the light. “Nance, it’s 11 o’clock at night for Pete’s sake.”

I step into one pant leg and hop about trying to locate the other, knocking the scalding tea over “shee-ite” issues crisply through my clenched teeth as I lose my balance and my shoulder slams into the wall. “Ah! Goddamn it!”

Rod tisks and then forcefully sighs for my benefit as he disengages himself rolling back over into the darkness.

Mopping the tea up with a t-shirt grabbed from a chair,“If I don’t do it now, knowing my luck, Mom’ll call at some ungodly hour. And now I can’t sleep anyway because I’ll lay awake waiting for it like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Shoes. God damn it where are my shoes?”

“Nance, you’re spinning.”

“I can hear her now.”

“Ahem, ahem.” Rod clears his throat for my benefit.

“Well, you know how she is with the answering machine. Mom can’t even work a toaster oven. Remember last Christmas when we got them that little portable tape deck and she said to Dad, sitting there with the unwrapped package in his lap, ‘I hope it isn’t a micro-wave’?”

“I’ve got to get some sleep. Unlike some people, I have to get up early in the morning.”

“Where are my shoes?” As I crawl on hands and knees upturning everything in my path in search of the elusive quarry an all too familiar telephone call plays over in my head.  “Nance ... are you there? ... I ... ah ... can’t find your father’s medications for the day ... could you? ... um ... come over? ... ah ... well, O.K. ... bye ...” Her voice; shaky, apologetic, helpless.

Augh! God my gut’s turning now just thinking about it. Can’t be woken up like that yet again. It would take me days to stop swearing from the aggravation and guilt.

“Shoes are downstairs by the door." He muffles through the duvet. "In all our fourteen years together we’ve never brought them into the bedroom. Get - a - grip.”

“Oh, damn!” I stand with hands on hips in puzzlement. "Tsk, sigh." I proceed to stomp out of the room, “I’ll just have to grab whatever I can on my way out, I guess.”  

“Please, don’t slam the door.”

It slams shut seemingly of its own accord.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“Whatever,” I barely hear him sigh and mumble. There’s a faint click and the sliver of light escaping from under the door is extinguished behind me. Ahh, I relax, blessed darkness.

I proceed down the stairs barefoot with heavy heels.            

“Shit!” I grab at the railing to keep from breaking my neck as our cat scurries down the stairs. “Max get out of the way!”

            *           *          *

Gotta work the ya ya’s out. “Let’s see.” I say aloud as I rifle through the cassettes strewn beside me on the passenger seat.

Eternal Om - too mellow, Colin James - nah, Enya, Rolling Stones ... the Stones ...

Yup, Stones it is! I pop in the tape and crank up the volume.

“You can’t always get what you wa-a-a-nt. You ...” isn’ t that fuckin’ right! I nod in heartfelt  agreement. 

Flat and off key, I break into song wailing at the top of my lungs, "you just might find you get what you need…" And, in a Jumpin' Jack Flash this Honky Tonk woman and Mick are gunning it down the driveway…(TO BE CONTINUED).

SOCIAL MEDIA BLOW OUT

…I hit the wall last week on social media thanks to a wonderful family gathering with the in-laws.

It's Thanksgiving weekend in Canada and I'm filled with warm, childhood memories of simpler times and Thanksgivings gone by at Mom and Dad's. Mom was not one known for her culinary skills. Her remark, "I'd rather we could take a pill," pretty much summed up her love affair with cooking. But she always rose to the occasion when it came to family celebrations, especially Thanksgiving, after all we had much to be thankful for.

Mom was always the last to come to the table, taking off her apron along the way. Despite her pleadings for us to start without her, we'd wait for her arrival with our plates piled high.

My Dad would ask the obligatory, "Does anyone want to say grace?"…

Giggles. "Grace" said the more irreverent family members.

Without missing a beat he would continue on, "For this, our daily bread, may we truly be thankful."

We'd linger at the table over our dessert of pumpkin pie and whipped cream not wanting to break the spell of calm, contented, satiation and Dad, the old "philosopher" would share what he was thankful for. "We have our health," he would say this even when his own health was failing, "and we have each other. No matter where you are, or what life presents you with, I hope you will always remember these times and be grateful."

I do and I am.

Thank you turkey; thank you "Dad's" dressing

So what does this have to do with my social media "fast"?

During my visit I observed how we, I include myself here, have become obsessed with our devices. In the last post, I wrote that they help me connect with family members and friends who are geographically far away. There is no doubt that, used within reason, they provide the desired link. But, they also take me out of the present moment and away from my own creative devices.

Anxiety ridden, dissatisfaction-fuelled, advertising worms its way insidiously into my life filling me with impossible desires. Petitions, all for very good causes, leave me feeling powerless despite the actions I take in real life to defend the ocean and its inhabitants. Requests for donations at every turn arouse a sense of hopelessness for the earth. If only money talks and has power then we truly are doomed.

Where does the time go while I'm swiping through FB, answering e-mails, texting while "taking time out" to chill and "watch" a program on TV? Spreading myself so thin divides me up into little pieces. I'm scattered, ramped up; wanting.…What?…Anything but what I already have, it seems.

Add that to the chaos that accompanies every family gathering: the unspoken expectations, good intentions, subconscious agendas, spontaneous change-ups, miscommunication, emotional triggers; a cold in incubation, and you get someone "undone" by life. Time to unplug.

A week later, more grounded, calm and creative I ask myself, "Do I want to jump back into the throng?"

May this time with your family find you unplugged, feeling grateful, and filled with memories to warm your heart.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ALL!

AM I DREAMING?

One of the first batches of cards which I mailed out

So much time has passed since my last post here. I've been very active on my other blog AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS and social media: my personal FB page, my other FB page AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS, my new FB page AM I DREAMING?, and most lately INSTAGRAM.

You'd think that I'm a computer nerd but you'd be wrong…sort of. Distance from family and friends coupled with a strange desire to connect with people in some way draws me to these more interactive venues. Face Time and Skype, FB messenger, What's Ap, phone text messaging and even the good old phone keep me in touch with my buddies.

To balance this all out, physical restlessness and a need for real life often beckons me - you know, that sphere of physical reality that exists beyond all this technology. So, I'm not sitting at the computer 24/7.

My writing has become less about "me" and more about stories and connectedness. I love to hear other people's stories about synchronicity and following the synchronicity "strings" between stories, people, events and daily happenings. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it just amuses and comforts me to see the connectedness of all things when I feel so disconnected from family and friends living so far away. Maybe I'm just curious about people in general.

Anyway, I came up with this game that I call AM I DREAMING? It all started simply enough on the invitation of a friend to join her at a workshop Bootstrap Marketing with Marc Stoiber at the Greater Victoria Public Library. I reluctantly went, more for the coffee and pastry reward we were going to indulge in afterwards than for the event itself. I felt more reluctance when we were asked to pair up and brainstorm on ways to promote/market our products. I blatantly confessed to my partner, "I don't have a product.", before the handshake and name exchange so that she could find someone else and get me off the hook.

"Neither do I."

Well this is promising.

We rebelliously stuck together and chatted while the others mingled and brainstormed as directed.

Then Marc showed us his business card; just a card with his website URL on it. That got my attention. And then he said, "Have fun with it. Be creative."

As I walked home I thought about what a frustrating pain in the ass my experience with marketing has been. All my elaborate efforts at promo, blogging, e-mailing, talking up what I do, presenting free classes and demos, posting of flyers that get torn down or, more rudely, posted over and for what?

I'm not reaching the dreamers though I know they're out there; but where? How can I reach that quirky bunch?

What the hell, make it simple, be creative and have fun.

The cards were supposed to be just about business but this has become something far more enjoyable and open ended. Will more students come to my workshops and classes? I don't know and at this point I don't care. But, I am curious as to where it will lead me, who will connect with me and what branches will grow as people participate. And, it's helping me to appreciate life on a daily basis as I've committed to making daily entries on my FB AM I DREAMING? page - my streak started on Aug 17th.

The card designs began simply as well but have morphed into more creative expressions leading me back into artwork of sorts. As I draw and embellish the cards it's freed me up to explore mediums and designs without the judgment or the harsh self-criticism that has limited my previous attempts. After all it's not really about producing "art"; I'm making cards, just playing with line, design and colour.

I have to pinch myself sometimes when I realize how lucky I am to live here

Drawing up more cards on the patio. They're getting more elaborate.
I'm having a lot of fun with them, it's very satisfying to be doing artwork again.

So, I'm out there, really I am, not here…that much…for the time being.
You will find posts at:

Awakening Choice Dreams Website:
- Am I Dreaming? explained here
- blog here where I write about dreams

Facebook:
Awakening Choice Dreams FB page where I share interesting posts and articles I've found.
AM I DREAMING? FB page where I post photos and stories about my daily Am I Dreaming? experiences (some are shares of my Instagram photos with further elaboration) and where you can send your AM I DREAMING? experiences for me to share

Instagram:
 AM I DREAMING?  I post photos and brief paragraphs about my daily Am I Dreaming? experiences and where you can post a picture and short explanation using the hashtags #amIdreaminggame #amIdreaming #amIdreamingcard #card(followed by the number of the card that you have)

If you want to play AM I DREAMING? using one of my cards, let me know and I'll send you one free complimentary card (I just need your mailing address). Send your request to me at nancethacker10@me.com
For $20 you can get a minimum order of 20 numbered, one-of-a-kind cards (10/sheet)

I had a funny realization a few days back. My Dad was in constant search of peoples' stories. After he retired he even passed out a card that said NORM THACKER A FRIEND. Yikes, it dawned on me that what I'm doing isn't really that different - meeting people from a point of friendliness and shared connections. Maybe my "Norm" genes are acting up proving the old adage that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

PANTS ON FIRE

My sister-in-law posted on FB a picture of one of the Minions from Despicable Me saying, "Just once in my life I'd actually like to see a liar's pants catch on fire."

Loved it!

But then I got to thinking…we'd all be running around like human torches, hurling ourselves into rivers, streams and oceans to douse the flames. The intensity of the fires and the steam rising from buttocks being extinguished would contribute substantially to global warming.

We all lie from time to time but, what makes a lie become a truth.

© Nance Thacker 1990
I found a pile of roughed cartoons and I'm in the process of inking them.

We've all had them, those holidays from hell. Nothing goes in our favour. It's nobody's fault. Or, maybe we've slipped into a frustration induced, period of incompatibility with our travel companions and we're ready to strangle each other. We simmer and seethe for the duration of our return trip home. 

If there is any effort to converse at all, all that passes for conversation is "Humpf" or "What - e - ver" - delivered with "tsk", sigh and eye roll for maximum effect. If you, like me, are of the white Anglo Saxon persuasion then the WASP fight consisting of deafening silence is most likely to be your choice.

What a waste of money THAT trip was! you're all thinking.

But once we're back home, ask us how our trip was and, dollars to donuts, you'll hear, "great"… "good"… or at the very least "OK".

What's happened here? Is it taboo to admit we've had a shitty time? Are we averse to sounding like whiners? If we tell the flat out truth that, "The f***ing trip was f***ing horrible", does it make us sound ungrateful for the opportunity that we've had to even have had a shitty vacation? After all some people never get away anywhere and here we are complaining. What nerve! 

Do we play the consensual game wherein holiday = great time, so we try to keep up with, or even surpass, the Joneses with tales of great adventures that all would envy? In my younger days, before I'd experienced any intimate relationships, I seriously believed (because they made it sound so romantic) that every holiday any couple I ever knew had been on, was INCREDIBLE!  

OK, so I was a bit naive. One of the big attractions of being "in a relationship" was to share in travelling adventures like…well, like Jonathan and Jennifer Hart in that TV show HART TO HART (that ran from 1979 - 1984). Maybe solve a crime or two along the way; not criminally offend the consensual code with a shitty experience.

Jonathan and Jennifer Hart gasp in horror at the very idea
that their trip could be anything other than fabulous

What if we're not glossing over our difficulties at all? Somehow the good times (as meagre as they may be) have risen like cream to the top. We scrape off these stories, embellish their magnificence, and with each re-telling our belief in the truth of we had a great time becomes so increasingly strong that it comes to embody the essence of our whole experience.

Is it a mark of resilience or a default mechanism that our inner Jonathans and Jennifers survive un-singed, bonded more deeply, and ready to tackle yet more adventures?

Yea, it's National ________ Day!

Wow, I don't know about you but I'm exhausted! Face Book (aka FB) has opened up a whole new world to me. I have connected with long lost university housemates, promoted my dream classes and workshops on my FB site AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS, most recently my class on CONSCIOUS DREAMING - Dreaming Story on my events page, shared posts of social importance, and participated in many lively, and (mostly inane) debates just between old friends. And, don't get me started on how seriously I take my responsibility to pass on videos: extolling cat love, cute animal "aw" inducing tales, and those inspiring sagas of interspecies couplings…yes, why can't we be more tolerant, accepting, and loving, just like them?

But…that's not all FB has to offer me.

No sir-eee!

How could I not know that the world is full of amazing celebrations, and I'm invited? Celebrations, that were heretofore only enjoyed by a very exclusive set, are (with a few exceptions) now open to one and all; we're all invited. That means you too!

Why, just a few weeks ago, it was National Friendship Week, which occurs pretty much every few months. Then there was National Crochet Your Chicken a Sweater Week, I could barely contain my enthusiasm for that one. I swear I could hear the yarn spinning through the hooks and smell the smoke coming off of them, due to the world-wide frenzy that ensued.

National Left-handers Day gave some of you "righties" a well deserved break, but not me. This southpaw partied like there was no tomorrow, displaying her sinistral skills to the amazement, nay, astonishment of envious right-handers who had the good fortune to gaze upon her. I had to resort to using my right hand for days afterwards…but since I'm fairly ambidextrous it's not such a big deal. Say, there must be a day for ambidextrites (is that a word?) too!

It seemed that there was no let-up in sight as just yesterday I was told that…Today is National Short Girl Appreciation Day. Which brings back, ah yes, such joyous memories.

© Nance Thacker 1984

Why are tall men and short women attracted to each other? I've had tall boyfriends. One was 6 feet tall (182.88 cm) ; another 6 foot 4 inches tall (193.04 cm). For all intents and purposes, I'm 4'10" (177.8 cm) - actually 4 foot, nine and ¾ inches to be exact but let's just round that up. Hmm…I just found out that I qualify as a very tall "little" person… there's the internet for you.

Anyway, I got caught up in the attraction thing for a while but I found out that it wasn't what it was cracked up to be. One day, I caught sight of the reflections of Mr 6'4" walking hand in hand with Ms 4 foot 9 and ¾ inches in a store window. With my elbow bent at an awkward angle and dangling above my shoulder it looked like it he had custody for the day and was taking his kid out (I looked way younger than my years back then).

But dancing? That's the worst! Have you ever had to endure a full dance being carried around the dance floor? Well, I have. Then there was the guy I met at a university dance, held in the residence hallway, who spent the whole night on his knees so that we could converse eye to eye. He later danced with me while on his knees. I knew that, that relationship would last only as long as his knees could hold out.

But, my all time favourite was the guy with weak abs, that thought the best way to deal with the situation was to lean his full weight over and onto my shoulders. As the music droned on and on, his core gave out, I felt like a participant in the dance marathon from the scene in *THEY SHOOT HORSES DON'T THEY?



O.K. maybe I'm being a little bit overdramatic…but, now that I have someone with whom I can dance, with my head resting on his shoulder…after such traumatic experiences if he threatens to take me in his embrace for a dance, I'll wrestle him to the floor.

*       *       *

* On a serious note THEY SHOOT HORSES DON'T THEY is a very good movie about the dance marathon craze in the '20's and '30's. My Mom was a kid then and she remembered hearing about such events being held during the "dust bowl" days in the USA. As I understand it, people would compete because they got food and lodging during the competition, they achieved a little bit of fame, and the cash rewards for the winners were relatively substantial.
"It seems unbelievable now but there were once fifteen thousand people – promoters, emcees, floor judges, trainers, nurses, cooks, janitors, cashiers, ticket-takers, publicity agents, promotion men, musicians, contestants and even a lawyer – whose main source of income over a number of years came from endurance shows." High Times Hard Times, Anita O'Day, pg. 34.

My Love/Hate Relationship with FB

No posts here since Sept 11th…wow! Where does the time go?
I've only written 3 entries since then on AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS. Where have I been?

On that time-sucker Facebook, that's where.

Since my last entry I've been involved in a lot of "real life" stuff; really I have.

I've been stared at by Maya, a lot

I came across this little Stonehenge at one of my fave places
at the beach…AND, I repositioned 3 that had toppled over.
A man is holding back his kid from throwing stuff at it as I take the picture.
I don't know just how long others resisted the urge to destroy it.

Just last Saturday I went skating at the Empress.
The new owners have erected this tent which takes up one half
of the front lawn. You can rent skates, hats and gloves. The far end
is open to the view of the harbour. No stale, sweaty, mildewy arena smell here!

View from the outside, very festive.
They have music and hot chocolate and treats at reasonable prices.

I've had earth-shattering, life-changing thoughts; realizations worth sharing with the world. But…there's FB. Little "dings" emanate from my phone at random moments. Someone's out there reaching out, seeking connection with you. Come on, just check it out. You know you want to, you're soooo far away…

And, I'm snared. Just see what family and friends from all over the world are up to, have a "conversation" with them through comments, share a tidbit from your life, post a pic or 2. In the shake of a rabbit's tail you'll be done.

HA, ya right!?

I get sucked into the world of FB and I become less discriminate as the minutes tick by. Tick, tick, tick. Initially, friends' shares and comments link me to informative videos and newspaper articles. I get involved too! I sign petitions; I share them embellished with my own comments. I don't donate. One could go broke with the number of sites out there begging for donations. But, I'm proudly, socially informed, responsible and engaged, for a while…

Gradually, usually while I'm reading up on crucial news-rich entries of the day, my eyes begin to wander to the great supplier of brain candy; the sidebar. Little snippets caught at the corner of my eye begin to gnaw at my innards until, suddenly, I can't stand it anymore, I JUST HAVE TO KNOW. I HAVE TO KNOW about: the 10 Celebrities' Faces Most Botched Up From Plastic Surgeries, Celebrities Who You Didn't Know Were Related, Celebrities Who Live In Modest Homes Despite Having Millions, "Celebrities" doing or being this or that…

Educational nature, environmental and science entries supplied by my most learned, scholarly, friends, somehow have shifted over into the realm of cute animal videos: dancing penguins, piano playing cats, talking dogs, until the witching hour descends upon the members of my own animal kingdom - Flippy and Maya. Leaprotic* frenzy breaks out all around me, stirring me out of my FB-induced stupor.

I pull down the task bar. It's closing in on 1 a.m. and, though tired, I can barely pull myself away from the clutches of this most engrossing material.

Well, no more! 

After reading a discussion between 2 very creative friends about FB, on FB last night, I vowed to follow their lead. I'm pulling back, people!

30 minutes allowed today. I set my timer. Dig in and scroll down. 30 minutes; time is precious. I read only the most compelling entries. I comment on a selected few. I share only 3 items, my original limit when I first got on FB but which has since grown over time to 8 or more entries per day.

My phone glows as I write this. The latest FB comment directed to me appears on the screen. A thank you, I think, sent in response to a Happy Birthday message I'd sent to her. Does this glancing count as time used. I didn't enter into FB to get the info from FB, it just came…hmmm. 

A scant few moments after I'd signed off with…Damn! I was just about to check the exact wording that I'd used on FB, by going in but I'm going to resist. Let's try this again.

A scant few moments after I'd signed off on my status, to the effect that, I'd reached the quota I'd set for myself today, so I'm done; my longest-time friend (who's on vacation in Mexico…so far away but she's connecting with me) made some comments. I know this cus the screen on my phone glowed, it "dinged" and I caught a glimpse of the text, just enough to know it was from her but not what her comments were about, before it timed out and the message disappeared.

Oh, the temptation!

But I'm NOT BITING.

I'm not even going to post this til tomorrow.

"TAKE THAT FB!"

"Ya, we'll see how long this lasts!"

Who said that?

*       *       *

Follow up: It's now going on for 3 p.m. ( I know it says 6p.m., haven't figured out how to change the settings from Eastern Standard to Pacific time) the next day and I haven't gotten onto FB despite the fact that 19 messages await me. Another just came in, dropped it's way into the screen on my phone. 

This post will be one of my "shares" for the day so I needed to wait til I'm ready. Ready, here I go.

_____________________________________________________________________________

* LEAPROSY - Cats display a penchant for LEAPROSY - not to be confused with leprosy. One moment they are lazing around as only cats can and suddenly, as if a bee has bitten their butt, they jump up and as if possessed run around in fits and starts. This usually occurs at about the same time each day or night, depending on your cat. In Maya's case leaprosy hits just after we have gone to bed. She announces it with a brrritt, brrritt sound followed by stampeding through the house, bashing things about along the way, eventually pounding her little cat feet and skidding around the corner into my room, leaping onto my bed, running over my body, then catapulting herself (very appropriate for a cat to do) off of it to tear around the apartment again. An episode of leaprosy ends just as quickly as it begins with a sudden stop, and a look comes over their face (like you get when you way into a room and have forgotten just why you came in) followed with consolation bathing ( for the cat, not us, though this would be a good idea.)
INFO here taken and adapted from the original post NANCE'S WORD EMPORIUM

#TrashBucketChallenge

NOTE correction: Bahar Yaghoubi and J.r. Missoula started the challenge in Oahu on Aug 19th (a mere 17 days ago) and it is going viral! WOO HOO!

On March 2013 I sent this out on Face Book
FACE BOOK CHALLENGE - Clutter clear a park, a sidewalk and post it on FB. Let's see if we can get a movement happening.

…Ya, I know, not too inspiring. My sister-in-law, Diane responded.

BUT NOW over a year later, people are getting enthusiastic about keeping our parks, beaches and public spaces litter free and Face Book is providing the perfect forum for coming together, spreading the word, and sharing our passion with creativity and fun.

I have found my people…or rather they have found me.

I can't tell you how excited I was to see the Trash Bucket Challenge show up on FB. Bahar Yaghoubi and J.r. Missoula in Oahu on Aug 19th, inspired by the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, set up this one.

Basically:
- Get a bucket
- Go to a location
- Fill the bucket full with the garbage that you collect there
- With the hashtag TrashBucketChallenge post your video or pictures online of your bucket, location and appropriate disposal of garbage.
- In your video or text challenge others to do the same - 3 seems to be a popular number
- Timelines to fulfill the challenge range from 24 hrs to a week to open ended.

Here's what Bahar Yaghoubi wrote on Aug 19…
"We had the good fortune to spend a beautiful weekend camping on the North Shore, and walk along some of the most pristine beaches. However, on our walks we came across the not so pretty sights of humanity: trash, trash, and more trash (not to mention plenty of dead fish that probably ate some of the trash). On our walk we FOUND a 5-gallon bucket on the beach and in less than 30 minutes filled it up to the brim. We challenge you to do the same, post a pic or video of yourself with a bucket (or bag) full of trash you picked up from either a beach, a park, neighborhood, or anywhere that can use a cleaning and properly dispose of it. Don't forget to tag it: #trashbucketchallenge. Tell your family, tell students, tell your neighbors, let's do this together, and let's make a difference... It's Earth Day, everyday. I challenge YOU! #trashbucketchallenge

He posted a video to go along with it but I couldn't get it to appear so you'll have to go to the FB site TrashBucketChallenge. Check out the video that started it all (you have to go to the beginning of the site) and the rest. It's so amazing to see this happening as a world-wide movement!

I was thrilled to join the challenge with others who feel passionate about our environment.

I've always wanted to be able to put together something "film-like" so I looked on this as a FUN project to put together. Well, I can tell ya, it really challenged my limited tekkie skills but with A LOT (and I mean tons) of trial and error, and dogged determination here it is.

…the challenge now will be to remember just how I did this whole thing.