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In all the chaos and hurry of trying to get everything cleaned up on my desk and in my inbox, I was stopped in my tracks a couple of days ago.  I was reminded of why I do the “work” I do.

I received a call from a Jane Doe, woman on Pine Ridge Reservation.  Okay, that’s nothing new for me.  I talk to a lot of folks there.  Jane is a woman I have actually visited and with whom I have spoken quite a few times.  She is a pleasant, soft-spoken woman who is  a wheelchair bound paraplegic, the result of being rearended in an auto accident by a drunk driver.

You would think Jane would be worried about herself and the fact that she lives in a small, non-ADA compliant apartment.  But several months ago, she told me the story of her two nieces.

Both her nieces are adults.  Both of them are mentally handicapped.  The two women had lived with and been cared for by their parents until the parents passed away.  At that time, one of their adult siblings was given guardianship over the two women.  The guardian decided to put the two women into a home of some sort, many miles away from the reservation and from all that was familiar to them.  No one from their immediate family visited them and, in fact, the guardian moved away to the East Coast and left them alone.

Jane Doe was the only one who visited her nieces, in spite of the fact that her car was constantly breaking down.  The women cried when she left and called her crying when she was at home because they were so lonely.

Jane, though disabled herself, was so concerned about her nieces that she went to the tribal court and sought guardianship of the two women.  They have been allowed to come to visit her — sleeping on the floor of her living room on top of sleeping bags and quilts.

Jane recently received guardianship!  However, they cannot come to stay with her permanently until she has a place for them to sleep that is not the floor. 

The living room is the only place in the apartment that they can stay.  Truly, Jane and her nieces need a proper place to live — one where a wheelchair will fit through the doorways.  But that is not likely to occur any time soon.

Jane would like to have her nieces home by the holidays, she told me when she called to ask if I could help her find a pull-out sofa bed or bunk beds for her nieces.  It’s so hard to say no to someone as generous and kind-hearted as Jane.  But it isn’t what we usually do, since a sofa bed, the best option, can be quite expensive.  I, personally, would hate to ask 38 and 40 year old women to be climbing into bunk beds, however.

We have actually located a sofa bed for $1000 that can be delivered to their home.  I’m not sure if that included tax — probably not, right?  But we don’t have a spare $1000 at this time.

I’m hoping that there will be a donor (or donors) who thinks that these 2 mentally handicapped women deserve to live with their aunt, who is so loving and giving in spite of her own needs.

If you know anyone who would like to help, direct them to ONE Spirit at http://nativeprogress.org to make the donation.

I, personally, am going to keep Jane Doe in my mind as I prepare for the holidays of giving thanks and giving gifts.  She is willing to give of what little she has out of love for her family.  She is a true inspiration to me!

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ABC NEWS Has Come Through For Pine Ridge

Over a year ago, I was contacted by a researcher/producer for ABC News.  She had found one of my blog entries (in which I was chastising ABC for not paying attention to the disasters in the west, especially on the reservations).  She told me they were working on a Diane Sawyer prime time special in her “A Hidden America” series.  The prior one had been on life in Appalachia.  This time they were planning to profile Pine Ridge Reservation.

Those of you who have been reading my blog will know that there is not much that fires up my hopefully righteous passion more than talking about life on Pine Ridge Reservation.  So talk we did, for almost an hour.  And we emailed – resources that they might find helpful.

I had heard that Diane Sawyer was out on the rez this past summer when I was there (no, we didn’t happen to cross paths traveling the approximately 2 million acres on the rez.  But I did here that she went up to KILI Radio one of the days I was there.  Try to keep that quiet when you’re talking to DJ’s.

I am giving you a link to the promo for the show.  Please, if you have ever enjoyed or been moved by anything I have written, I implore you to watch the 20/20 program on Friday at 10 PM.  See with your own eyes the good and the bad of Pine Ridge.  You may not find it possible but this place does exist.  I have been there and I suspect they will not tell you the worst story nor show you the poorest homes.  But it will still be worse than you expect.  After all, the living conditions on Pine Ridge rival those in Haiti and the life expectancy on Pine Ridge rivals that of Burundi.

I work for an organization that works to support self-sufficiency – not an easy thing to have on Pine Ridge.  Many of us work to keep the dam from breaking by trying to improve the life of one person at a time.  The big picture can be truly overwhelming.

If you can’t watch the show when it airs, record it or have a friend record it for you.

I will be honest.  I prayed for someone with greater reach than mine to focus attention on the needs of Pine Ridge.  I did not know (or care) who it would be.  I am grateful to ABC News because I know that if more people see the conditions, they will be moved to respond.  I believe in the American people and I know in my heart that things can improve.  I do not have the answers but I know it can be done.

Thank YOU for helping them to raise awareness.  You can do that by sharing this blog post with everyone you know.

Oh yes, here’s the link to the promo:  http://abcnews.go.com/2020/video/hidden-america-children-plains-14708439#.TpOhj9LOE2E.facebook

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Today was the last day of vacation, after a week of relaxing in Yellowstone National Park and the surrounding area.  Yellowstone is one of my favorite places in the entire country — and having been to all 50 states, I have seen some wonderful sights.  But Yellowstone is a place that is continuing creation in a way, since it sits atop a volcano and has incredible geothermal features.  It has an inexplicable energy that permeates the park.  So I was rather reluctant to leave.
Another reason for my reluctance to leave was the long drive ahead of us.  We had to travel back to Salt Lake City, UT.  Tomorrow we will fly from Salt Lake City back to the East Coast . . . and home.  We decided to take the “low roads” back instead of the highways we had traveled to get to Yellowstone last week.  We prefer being able to take breaks as well as having more interesting sights to see.  We began by exiting Yellowstone through the south gate, which led us into Teton National Park.  The mountains there are breathtaking.
However, after a long morning of driving (we left at 8 AM and it was now 12:30 PM) we arrived at Afton, Wyoming.  We had taken this route on our first trip to Yellowstone and I remembered the antler arch that stretches across the street (see photo above).  The town is quaint and historic.  You can read more about it on Wikipedia (search Afton, WY) or at the town’s own website http://aftonwyoming.net .
This story is not about the population (about 2000), the income levels, unemployment rates or any other demographic statistic.  It is also not about how scenic Afton is nor about the activities available.  It is not even about the fact that Afton, WY boasts an Olympic gold medalist (Rulon Gardner).
This story is about people behaving well, showing kindness and compassion and bringing a warm smile to me after a long ride.
We stopped at the Burger King located in Afton for one of our stretch breaks and decided to have a quick burger to hold us until we got to Salt Lake City for dinner.  While my husband ordered, I chose a table and sat down.  I chose the right table as things turned out.
There were 3 elderly ladies in front of my husband.  As they got their orders, they were assisted by one of the Burger King employees to get their food to the table they chose directly behind me.  As the party went past me, I noticed that the Burger King employee who helped them was a young woman with Down’s Syndrome.  When the ladies realized that they needed ketchup, she offered to get it for them and returned with 3 small cups of ketchup on a tray.   After the ketchup was delivered, one of the elderly women tipped her (no, I don’t know how much) and she was so pleased.  So was I.  I admire a place that respects handicapped individuals and I respect people who do the same, as the 3 elders did.  They did not patronize this young women.  They treated her with respect.
It was the next event that really solidified my respect for the people of Afton.  After assisting the 3 women, the young woman sat at a nearby table to do a task that many would find tedious.  She was stacking numerous, loose little paper cups used for ketchup into a bin.  She was taking great pains to be sure the stacks were straight and neat when she accidentally bumped a stack, scattering several dozen paper cups across the floor near her feet.
The young woman was momentarily flustered.  I watched in both pleasure and awe as 2 children, obviously siblings, looked at each other and then went to work.  The boy and girl, in the age range of perhaps 8-11, picked up all of the stray cups off the floor and returned them to the grateful young woman.  Then they simply went into the playroom to meet a parent and left.
Perhaps it seems a small thing to you.  Or perhaps you expect unattended children to act like the ones I described.  Personally, I don’t expect it in this day and age.  I have seen far too many children who pay no attention to anyone or anything except their own interests and desires.  So frankly, I thought this was a big thing.  I thought to myself, “Those parents have done a terrific job of raising their children!”
There may yet be hope for the future.  If parents in Afton, WY can do it right, perhaps more parents can start to figure out how to raise children who are kind, compassionate and respectful.  I looked for the children and parents after I finished eating but they had already departed.  I really wanted to tell the parents how proud they should be of their children.  Since I couldn’t find them, I’m using this post to say what I would have said.
You must be very proud to have children who show respect and caring without being told to.  They did what was helpful and kind.  It may have been a small task but it was done without a second thought.  They didn’t debate if they should help — they just did it.  It really brought me joy to see it and I want to thank you for raising such “good” children. 
If the other children in Afton are raised as well as the 2 I watched, then Afton must be a special place.

 

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Okay, technically Labor Day is tomorrow.  But it is Labor Day weekend, the final big holiday of the “summer season.”  And what am I doing?  Laboring!!  I guess I can at least be grateful it isn’t the kind of labor that comes with a baby at the end – been there, done that.  But yes, I am hard at work for the past 2 days.  I will be tomorrow as well.

What am I doing to take up all this time?  As usual, I am calling the rez.  Specifically, I am calling as many of the 44 households who were to receive food orders last weekend in the 2 areas I serve to determine whether the food was delivered or not, whether it was in good condition when it arrived and if there were any other problems with the delivery.

I had tried to meet with the food delivery volunteers for my areas when I was out visiting my Lakota friends a couple of weeks ago.  We were never able to connect (phone tag, even on the rez!).

You would think this would be an easy task.  You would be wrong.

I have not be able to reach 25% of the people on the list because their phones have been disconnected or are “no longer a working number.”  Do 25% of the folks you try to call lose their phone numbers because they can’t pay their bills?  I doubt it.

Another 25% are not reachable for a variety of reasons:  no one is home; they have never set up the voicemail box; the box is full; they don’t have a voice mail box; they are “not available” which can be code for “they have no signal where they are” or “they’ve turned off the phone to save power.”

There is a small percent, perhaps 10%, in which someone answers the phone but the person I ask for is not there.  So I try to check anyway, “Do you know if the food was delivered last Sunday?”  Nope, no idea.  It always puzzles me.  You are obviously at home enough to answer the phone for someone else but you don’t know if they got food.  (Pausing to shrug my shoulders – I know how loose home life can be on Pine Ridge).

Now we come to the rest, the calls where I actually reach the person I am trying to call.  It should be a simple task, a few quick questions.

If you’ve been reading my posts for a while, you will know there is no such thing as a “simple task” when it comes to the rez.  There are the people who want to know when they will get a sponsor.  Answer:  I don’t know.  The economy is bad, there a more natural disasters than we can keep up with and more people are torn among many places to be philanthropic.

Next question:  Can you give my sponsor a message?  Answer:  Absolutely!  A related question:  Do you know why I haven’t heard from my sponsor in “x” number of days, weeks, months?  Answer:  No, but I will try to find out.

Most people do not respond to the East Coast direct manner of completing this task.  They want to chat a bit, tell you about their lives and what’s been happening around the rez.  It takes time.  It’s probably something of a blessing in disguise that I can’t reach everyone.  If I did, with the average call lasting at least 20 minutes, I would have been on the phone for at least 15 hours!  Talk about labor!!

There are occasionally calls that take longer than the 20 minute average.  Like the call I made yesterday when I connected with a grandmother who had not received her food delivery.  Not a good thing, in and of itself.  But she proceeded to tell me about her 5 year old grandson who is just starting kindergarten.  He had no shoes that fit.  He needed school clothes.

She told me she had just been diagnosed with diabetes on top of her problems with asthma.  She thinks (and I suspect she is right) that the black mold in her home is responsible for the asthma problems.

She went on to tell me more about the house.  The heating vents are not in the holes where the heat comes out.  When the housing authority folks came over to fix them, the “fix” they proposed was to duct tape them in.  Okay.  She has so much trouble heating the home in the winter that she uses her oven for heat.

She moved on to her finances.  She is on Social Security and receives about $600 per month.  She must pay for everything out of that money.  She gets no support except for food stamps for her grandson.  That means she must pay for electricity, heat, clothing, cleaning supplies, phone, cable and the inevitable food and personal hygiene supplies not covered by the food stamps.  She told me her electric bill is around $250 per month and the cable is $50 per month.  She confided that the bundle – cable, internet and phone – was $113 per month, way more than she could afford.

With half her income used up by just 2 items, you can see how a food delivery that did not appear would be a disaster.  She is very worried.

I have one more day to complete this task.  Then I will send a report to the persons who direct the food program with the information I have gleaned.

But there will be no rest from my labors.  There is always something to be done for the rez.

 

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I got back from my recent trip to Pine Ridge Reservation last Wednesday and have spent the past couple of days recovering from travel fatigue and a pesky stomach virus that I must have picked up on the trip home.  I think I was also recovering from some of the stories I heard while I was visiting with my dear Lakota friends.

The occasion for the trip was a happy one – after 10 years of waiting, they had finally obtained a house of their own and had decided to have it blessed.  When I think about the hard times and sadness they have endured over the past 6 years that we’ve known each other (search the category “Lakota friends” for past stories), I think having the house blessed was a really good idea.  I had gone expecting a Lakota holy man to bless the house, but apparently summer, with its powwows and other gatherings, was not a good time to “book” one.  The task and privilege fell to one of the local Episcopal priests, who had also conducted the funeral for my friend’s daughter a couple of years ago.

As an Episcopalian who had also had my own house blessed (some 30+ years ago), I was familiar with the ritual.  I was also pleased to see that the priest, with his Lakota beaded stole, had made slight adaptations in the rite to align it a bit more with Lakota culture.

Much of the rest of the time I was on the reservation was spent sharing stories.  I have often thought that a book should be written about my Lakota friend’s life.  Although it may be somewhat common to the lives of many on the reservation, it is the story of a woman who has already, in her 30’s, overcome more obstacles in her life than most of us will face in a lifetime.  I tell her that if she gives me the stories, I will put them together in a book and the money will be hers since the story is hers.  She laughs, but I think she has been considering it more seriously of late.

While we were sitting at her dining room table sharing coffee and conversation, I asked her what her earliest memory was.  Personally, the early memories I have center around holidays and playing with my younger sister.  So I was not prepared for the story she told me.  As you read her story, I ask you to ask yourself:  What does it do to a person to have this as his/her earliest memory?  Can you put yourself in this picture?

Her earliest memory is an event that occurred when she was about 3 and her sister about 5.  They were at home in their mother’s trailer.  The extended family had gathered there – aunts, uncles and some she does not recall.  Her mother was 8 months pregnant with her next sister.

The adults were all drinking heavily.  Apparently that was typical at that time in her mother’s life.  Suddenly, and for no reason that a 3 year old could recall, her uncle picked up a huge, old-fashioned butcher knife and stabbed her mother in the back.  The knife, which had about a 10 inch blade, had been “slammed about halfway” into the left side of her mother’s back as she and her sister watched.

An aunt quickly pushed the 2 girls into a closet to protect them and locked the door from the outside.  However, since the trailer was in poor condition as are many rez homes, the closet door was not a snug fit.  There was plenty of space between the door and the frame to allow the 2 children to watch what was unfolding in the hallway outside the closet.

The girls could see the knife still protruding from their mother’s back as she lay on the floor only feet away.  They could see the huge pool of blood forming around their mother.  She turned her head and looked straight at them, forming the words “help me” as best she could.  My friend clearly remembers her eyes connecting with her mother’s eyes.

She also recalls that all of the adults who had been there left, without helping her mother or calling for help.  The 2 little girls, who were terrified, threw themselves at the closet door.  The door, which was not well made or in good condition, as I noted before, gave way.  My friend’s older sister ran and tried to pull the knife out of her mother’s back – but she was too small and the knife was too deep.  The girls ran to get a neighbor to help.

The neighbor pulled out the knife and called for help.  When the police arrived, they arrested the neighbor for the stabbing, in spite of the stories told by both the girls.  Although the neighbor was eventually cleared, the uncle was never arrested.  The police refused to believe the girls’ story.

My friend’s mother was taken to the hospital, where they delivered her baby a month early and worked to save both lives.  The baby survived.  So did her mother, although it took a long time for her to recover.

My friend has had a stressful, tumultuous relationship with her mother over the years, for reasons that still remain unclear to me.  However, part of the difficulty seems to stem from the fact that her mother has never accepted and validated the trauma that it was for her 3 year old daughter to observe the stabbing.

My friend told me that she once asked her mother to stop wearing tops with thin straps so much.  Her mother told her she would wear whatever she wanted to.  She didn’t understand that my friend had a reason for asking that of her mother.  You see, every time she saw her mother in a tank top or camisole, she could clearly see the huge scar on her mother’s back when her mother turned away.  The sight of that scar would tear open the scar on her psyche every time, bringing her back to the night she was a terrified 3 year old.

When I think about this story – the alcohol driven chaos, the violent violation of a child’s mother, the abandonment by relatives who were meant to care for family, the adults who would not believe a child’s story and the emotional scars left on an innocent little girl – I can understand much of the rest of my friend’s life.

It makes me feel so protective of that child and so angry at the adults when I think about this story.  It makes me sad beyond words that this is my friend’s first memory.

So let’s go back to my questions now.

What does it do to a person to have this as his/her earliest memory?  I suspect a psychologist could write a book on that.  In all likelihood, in layman’s terms, it would scar the person for life.

Can you put yourself in this picture?  In all honesty, I cannot.  I gratefully grew up in a home where peace was the rule and verbal arguments the infrequent exception.  There was no physical violence.  Some of you may have had more experiences with violence as a child.  I pray that your first childhood memory is not something this traumatic.

But that was rezlife as a child for my friend.  I sadly suspect she was not the only one.

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Before I got into my concert review, let me preface this post by admonishing you that you should not, if at all possible, buy concert tickets months ahead and then plan to fly across country unexpectedly at 6 AM the next morning.  I say this from experience because that is exactly what I am doing.  In fact, I’m writing this in O’Hare Airport in Chicago as I try to stay awake between legs of my flight from Hartford, CT to Rapid City, SD.  But more on the trip another time.  Suffice it to say that, if you are 59 years old, it isn’t as easy to stay up over 24 hours as you recall from your youth.

Now – to the concert.  It was good.  Not great, but good.  Actually, 2 of the 3 bands were great and the one that wasn’t might surprise you.

Night Ranger opened the night.  I had not heard of them before (I’ve led a sheltered life, I guess – kidding!) but I am open-minded when it comes to music.  They were actually quite good, with plenty of energy and enough personality to warm up the late arriving crowd.  I particularly enjoyed a song titled “When You Close Your Eyes.”  Their set was not long, as you would expect for an opening act and perhaps deserved to be longer.

Foreigner, a favorite of my husband’s, performed next.  They were fabulous.  Yes, I had heard of them.  Yes, I like their music.  But they were even better in live performance, in my humble and musically uneducated opinion.  The energy they had was nothing short of phenomenal.  They hit every cue.  They truly entertained as well as singing their hearts out!  I would definitely go to see them again.

I had seen Journey in concert last year, when they were touring with Heart.  It had been a fabulous concert.  I would rank it in the top concerts I’ve been to.  Arnel Pineda was astounding in that concert – sounding so much like Steven Perry that you had to pay attention to remember that it was not Perry singing.  So of course I had high expectations for Journey last night.

Journey was a disappointment this time.  For all the running and jumping around that Arnel Pineda did, Journey lacked energy musically.  The songs they chose for their program were unfortunate.  They decided to include several new selections, which would have perhaps been okay had they not put them all consecutively.  The audience did not recognize them.  You could feel the energy that had been building in the audience dissipate like a rapidly deflating balloon,

The biggest disappointment was Arnel Pineda himself.  He was as bad last night as he had been great in the previous concert I saw.  He seemed to forget words, seemed to be singing at a different tempo than the rest of the band and seemed more interested in making contact with the ladies in the audience than in the music.  I mused about the possible reasons as they performed.  Fatigue?  But the rest of the band had been on the same tour.  Illness?  Possible.  I hoped so – because the third thing that came to mind, based on how he looked when they did close-ups of him on the video screens was that he was high on something that was not enhancing his performance.  Whatever the cause, the result was really bad music.

There were actually a couple of things that made an impression on me that were not related to the music.  One was the venue.  The concert took place at the Comcast Center in Mansfield, MA.  I had been there twice before, but not for quite some time.  It is an outdoor venue with a covered pavilion, additional uncovered seating and lawn seating, all in an amphitheater style.  I found that it was quite a climb uphill before heading back down to our seats in the covered area.  The seats were not very comfortable, which may be a good part of the reason many fans, who had paid for “seats,” chose to stand for almost the entire concert.  I had to switch seats with my husband after a short time because the man who was seated on the other side of me (with my fibromyalgia I cannot stand) was having a great time standing and dancing.  I, on the other hand, was not enjoying his butt in my face as he invaded my “seat space” with his dance.  I don’t begrudge anyone the right to dance and have fun at a concert, but I really didn’t enjoy his act.  There was a couple in the row in front of us who typified those who have no respect for others.  They stood for the entire show.  When people behind them asked them to sit, this couple told them they should stand too, if they wanted to see.  The fact is that many people like me have “invisible disabilities” that prevent them from doing that.  Exuberance is one thing.  Rudeness and disrespect is quite another.

There was some kind of fire that caused a foul odor and smoke.  No one was evacuated and I have no idea what was burning.  I do know that it was putrid.  The upper level rest rooms were abysmal.  The toilets would not flush due to weak water pressure.  After a while I’m sure they weren’t flushing for other reasons.  I didn’t go back to those rest rooms.  The lower level did not seem to have the same issue.

You may think me strange for saying this, but the thing that impressed me most through the night had nothing to do with musicians, fans or venue.  What impressed me most was the stage crew.

The sets for Night Ranger and Foreigner were different and required some changes but the changes were small – rearrange the stairs and instruments.  However, the set used by Journey was entirely different.  The crew removed every bit of the first set, right down to the mats on the stage, then replaced it with the video screens, signage and instruments that Journey required (I wished their music had been as well done as their set).  That doesn’t sound like a big deal for guys (and one gal) who do this for a living, I guess.  But the fact that it was all done in 15 minutes was amazing!!  That was it – 15 minutes and Journey could take the stage.  I wondered why the Commonwealth of Massachusetts cannot find road construction crews who work that quickly and that well!!

By the time we got home from the concert it was 12:30 AM today.  If I had gone to sleep, I’d have had to get up at 3 AM to get ready to leave for the airport.  I’d never have done it.  So I stayed up, finished packing and hoped to get some sleep on the planes.  Since I’m finishing this on the second leg of my trip to SD, you can see that “sleep on the plane” thing didn’t work.

I ought to sleep really well tonight!!  I think the concert was worth it . . . I think.

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I am up to my eyeballs in packing, planning and preparing for our trip to Pine Ridge Reservation.  We leave Friday, June 2.

Last night, because I was starting to get a bit dizzy with all of this floating around in my head, I decided to make a list of the things I still needed to do.  While it might ultimately be useful, it is also rather overwhelming to have it all in black and white in front of me.

There is too much to do and too little time to do it in.

I have to pack the usual vacation items – clothing and the like.  I have to make sure I have all the necessary medications.  I could probably do that part of the packing in my sleep at this point in my life.

I have to make sure I have the electronics I need to take with me this time organized:  my new camcorder (which I also need to learn how to operate), my voice recorder, my netbook computer, the still camera, my phone, battery charger, cords . . . I’m sure I’ve forgotten something!

I have to make calls to persons on the rez to let them know when I will be around and hope that they will be available on those days.  Of course, there are so many people I would like to see in addition to our friends that I have to pare down the list a bit.  Since two days are travel days and the first four days of the visit will be used taking our friends to Salt Lake City to see my “goddaughter” then returning to the rez (about a 12 hour drive each way!), that leaves only four days to do everything else.

Everything else is a pretty vague term, don’t you think?  I hope so, because it’s meant to encompass a wide variety of activities.  There is a free concert by the youth involved in the Independence through Music project that we hope to attend.  The Veterans Powwow is happening in Pine Ridge on those days.  I have some people I want to visit to learn more about the kinds of assistance available to those who live on the rez.  There are more people I have “met” by phone when assigning sponsors to them that I would now like to meet personally – actually a lot more than I will likely have time to meet.

That’s not all.  My parish took a collection when they heard we were taking this trip so that we could use the cash to purchase art and crafts from local artists.  The plan is to put the cash into the economy on the rez now, then bring back the items and put them up for auction.  The proceeds will then go back into a fund to keep repeating the process — income rather than handouts.  So I have those items for which I need to contact folks.

I hope to be in touch with KILI, the Voice of the Lakota Nation — the independent radio station on the rez.  I’d like to visit the market so I can do actual price comparisons, not just say things are “much more expensive” when purchased on the reservation.  I’d like to locate some of the neighborhoods in the areas I serve that I’ve only heard of, never been to visit.

I also need to get out all the things we’re taking to our friends (clothing, toys for the grandchildren, etc) so they can be packed.

I have to figure out how we will keep all of our equipment secure when we are there.  I need to find out where I can buy some white sage before we leave (not holding my breath there).

If there was nothing else to be done, it might work.  But you know that’s never the case, don’t you?  (If things always get done easily and you are one of those talented multi-taskers, don’t talk to me right now!)

I just talked to a sponsor for about half an hour.  I really enjoyed the conversation, but . . .

I talked to a grandmother on the rez who needs sponsors for two grandchildren a little bit earlier.  I really enjoyed the conversation, but . . .

Time to get down to brass tacks here.  How many people did I call that were on my list?  Zero.

How many items have I crossed off my to do list?  4  How many items were on the list when I started?  24

At this rate, I’m going to be up the proverbial creek without a canoe by the time I have to leave for the airport.

My “to do” list is really a “too much to do” list!!

“Breathe!  Slowly!  Relax . . . . . .  you’re just getting over a respiratory infection . . . you don’t want the fibromyalgia to flare up, do you?”

Okay . . .

So I may not do much writing this week, but I hope you will forgive me.  I promise I will bring home stories, photos and video to share if you will be patient.  Deal?

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