Alex

If you’ve been patient enough to be a regular reader of this blog, you know my opinion on the adoption of children.
Unfortunately, you don’t have to look very hard, or even make a conscious effort, to find cases where adoptees have been mistreated, abused or murdered by those responsible for their care.

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Winter Solstice

The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The days are short, the night is long–the Wheel of the Year.
The holly bears a blossom
White as the lily flower
The Goddess shares the Solstice Sun
Days grow longer with its power
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
We celebrate with joyous hearts
The Wheel of the Year
The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood
The Goddess brings the Solstice Sun
To allow our hopes to bud
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The days are short, the night is long–the Wheel of the Year.
The holly bears a bark
As bitter as any gall
The Goddess gives the Solstice Sun
For the wonder of us all
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
In perfect love and perfect trust
May our hearts be ever clear
The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
The rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The days are short, the night is long–the Wheel of the Year.
From THE HOLLY AND THE IVY III
(adapted by Susan M. Shaw)
http://www.joellessacredgrove.com/Carols/hollyivy3.html

Holiday Scorecard

This week was good.
I am in my customers’ good graces, even though the holiday gifts haven’t arrived as yet, the promise of delivery in 5 business days being unfulfilled.
Blessed with sudden entrepreneurial wisdom, I am not overly pissed about the bad behavior of a couple of prospects. Technology sales is a tough gig, especially when it requires the approval of committees. Two people who are real experts counselled: nothing personal, this is a tough scenario for them, too. It makes one appreciate sympathetic colleagues and fair-dealing customers even more.
Our monthly user group meeting was a success. Carl Franklin, the VB guru, travelled most of the day from New London to give us his presentation, and it was extremely well received by a respectably well-attended audience.

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Spider Hole

So, the former dictator of Iraq was hiding in a “spider hole”, an 8 foot passage leading to a 6 foot long cavity in the courtyard of a mud hut farmhouse.
Spider holes got their name in Vietnam. The Viet Cong used them as hiding places, crouching in clay pots and jumping up to ambush American troops. If the clay pot broke or cracked, the VC was at risk of being bitten by poisonous snakes or spiders.
Saddam is a bad man, no question about it, an evil psychopath who probably got that way as a combination of lousy genes and an abusive childhood. His being on the earth seems like a karmic mistake, and most of us wish him nothing but ill.
Still: this is someone who until a few months ago, lived in almost unimaginable luxury. For whatever reason, nationalism or lack of opportunity, he chose to remain in Iraq, living for a time in impoverished circumstances until his capture this past weekend.
Regardless of motive, I respect the self-discipline and commitment of anyone who would do that.
If that seems incomprehensible, consider this: do you think Young Master Smirk would, out of conviction, hide in a fissure of the earth, risking humiliation and even death? Or would he instead arrogantly taunt his opponent from the safety of an air-conditioned private jet, expecting others to “bring it on”?

Prediction

Capturing Saddam is a great moment for our troops in Iraq. It vindicates them as “the best of the best” and I hope will provide a morale boost to those brave and deserving women and men.
Conjecture has already begun on whether this will or won’t assure Bush’s reelection.
I predict that come November, this won’t be a major factor, and that the capture of Saddam will be largely symbolic in the long run.

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GOTCHA!

Yesterday, while on a Holiday House Tour, I saw a poem entitled “Gotcha Day“.
On inquiry, it was explained that this marked the day the homeowners adopted a child.
In fact, “The Daughter” had introduced herself to me only a few minutes earlier, using that precise third person description, as if, indeed, she were another adornment or object, like an antique desk or an overstuffed chair.

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