Tuesday, April 30, 2013


Male author issue, all books written by men.

The City of Devi by Manil Suri Three and a Half Worms
Usually I don’t like the narrative to flip-flop between characters but in this instance, it does work after an awkward opening. Lots of action and some skipping through time with a predictable ending. Author doesn’t quite understand the workings of a female’s body. Book includes a map of the area described.

Margaret from Maine by Joseph Monninger Three Worms
Sappy romance novel written by a male. Sweet characters torn by guilt. Good to read during vacation.

Twin Cities Haunted Handbook by Jeff Morris, Garett Merk, and Dain Charbonneau Three Worms
Surprised by the large number of purportedly “haunted” venues in the Twin Cities area and nearby. Two semi-professional ghost hunters focus on an area and then use a local person to assist. Writing is clear and wise to include driving and parking instructions. However, some of the details are wrong so more local people should have assisted with proofreading. Could of used a map showing the locations

The Death Relic by Chris Kuzneski Three Worms
Flawed characters actually provide some psychological insight amidst chaos. Narrative jumps rapidly with barely an introduction to a character, which can be a bit confusing. Romance, adventure, and history lessons all tied up in one story. This is one installment of a multi-book series but is independent enough to carry its own weight. Yeah, it includes a map!

The Illicit Happiness of Other People by Manu Joseph Two and a Half Worms
Beautiful phrasing and images besmirched by a labyrinth storyline. Narrative hops around from character to character without explanation and the voices aren’t distinct. No sympathetic character emerged from the din.

Death on a Pale Horse by Donald Thomas Two and a Half Worms
Further adventures of Dr. Watson observing the antics of Sherlock Holmes. Brilliant chapters enmeshed in mundane descriptors. The specimen jar would have been too heavy to suspend and the contents would have needed to be supported by a glass scaffold. (I’ve worked in a Pathology Lab with items from that era, I know.)

Walk a mile in my heels.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Saturday, April 27, 2013


Last fall I suffered from a persistent cough. It took about a month for the nastiness to finally depart. No health insurance but I managed to acquire a flu shot and didn’t experience influenza. During March my co-worker was ill and came to work anyway. I am very vigilant about washing my hands but I procured the illness nonetheless. Perhaps I breathed in her infected cough particulates that lingered in the air.

Sneezing graduated to intermittent coughing and progressed to a slight fever and sinus congestion within a few days. My coughs were mostly phlegm related, which is gross. I annihilated a couple nose tissue boxes. The poor cats were initially afraid to be near me in case I exploded. I walked around with a cup or glass to catch the milky phlegm because I never knew when I would start hacking. Yuck! What a disgusting experience. At least the phlegm and nasal discharge weren’t yellow or green, which would indicate an infection. I can’t afford to pay for medication.

No sick leave so I worked a half-day after the symptoms began in earnest. I called Lily, my chiropractor, to cancel my appointment because I didn’t want to infect others. She told me to come into her office anyway. She stuck in some extra acupuncture needles to help boost my immune system. It was extremely uncomfortable to lie on my stomach. I had a couple coughing spells and drooled all over the paper towels that I placed in the bottom of the headpiece. She disinfected the room but I still fear that I may have spread the germs to her other patients.

Lily has been formally trained in Chinese Herbology. She took pity upon my plight and gave me some Gan Mao Ling pills. The small tablets contain six herbs and I am not familiar with any of them. However, modern “western” medicine is largely based in the reproduction of natural substances so it can’t hurt to consume the real herb. They smell and taste horrible but I was willing to try. I know a Native American Shaman and he combines herbology with spiritual healing. He refers to my front yard, filled with native perennials, as my pharmacy. I don’t know the proper application of the plants. I do not attempt to administer them beyond smelling their fragrance. They are still frozen in the tundra right now.

Sadly, I have probably dispersed the germs to victimize others. I had to go to work the next day and suffer through a full shift. I took over-the-counter meds to survive but the non-drowsy version still made me a bit loopy. I didn’t want to take another dose because I was concerned that it would interfere with my drive home. The afternoon was horrible as a result. I managed to make it to my domicile safely. I avoided my regular faith-related gathering because I didn’t want to contaminate my fellow parishioners.

The first week was horrible. My stomach hurt from so much coughing. The skin around my nostrils was rubbed raw from the application of nose tissue. My body ached and I was exhausted from lack of sleep. I had to use my nighttime cold-relief over-the-counter pills that were long expired. Methamphetamine is an evil drug but its cold-fighting ingredient is better than what they use today. I piled up the pillows so that I could rest at an angle. It works better for nasal drainage but I only managed to sleep for a couple hours each night. An intolerable situation.

A friend of mine was worried about me so she called on a regular basis. However, it was usually while I was sleeping. She was kind enough to drop off some goodies since I wasn’t feeling well on my birthday. I usually don’t mind living alone but when I am ill it would be nice to have someone pamper me. I’d love to have another person take care of all the household chores and spoil me. I would do the same for them. Alas, the cats won’t even make me soup.

I had a quiet weekend to focus on recuperation. I kept physical exertion to a minimum and tried to sleep. Sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. The symptoms gradually reduced after the second week, despite dealing with recovering from whiplash and having to shovel. After ailing for nearly four weeks, I finally feel better. Not 100% but is easier to function without freaking people out by fiercely coughing and discharging the contents of my sinuses.

Wish me a full-time job with insurance.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013


Be a champion for truth and reconciliation. Talk to your family, friends, neighbors, and anyone who will listen. Explain to them that establishing a Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA (TRC USA) will benefit everyone. Truth and Reconciliation is an arduous process. It will expose painful memories and the results of genocide. We want to open the painful wound, clean it with TRUTH, and begin healing it with RECONCILIATION. The scar will remain but future generations of Native American Indians will not have to bear the burden of suppressed sorrow. We have a responsibility to make the world a better place for them.

Contact elders, tribal, community and faith leaders, and elected/appointed officials. Send faxes to the President of the United States, and Members of the United States Congress (best way to contact them). Visit or write your Governor, State Representative and State Senator. Ask your City Council and Mayor to support the TRC USA. Contact social justice activists. You are the grassroots. You are the agent of change. Your voice matters! Follow your heart and help the children. Too many members of the Native American community suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder due to direct or generational harm caused in part by the Indian Residential Boarding School (IRBS) system. This horrific legacy will continue unless we take responsibility to alter its path. We welcome non-Native people who wish to help our cause.

Please submit this RESOLUTION when attending your local Political Convention:
WHEREAS a Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the United States of America will be established, and;
BE IT RESOLVED THAT the Commission will contribute to truth, healing, and reconciliation between Native American Indian Nations and the United States of America, and;
BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED THAT: the Commission will be established before the start of fiscal year 2016 and begin public proceedings no later than 2018.

We can’t be intimidated by the prospect of upsetting the proverbial “boat.” The boat is rotting and we have to save our children and future generations from drowning, we have already lost too many. Politics exist whenever two or more people are involved. Add in generational trauma, intense emotions with pain/fear and the political process can seem overwhelming. The journey of a nation-wide Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA will be fraught with politics. We have to keep our eyes upon the goal of acknowledging the injustices and harms experienced by Native American people and the need for continued healing for a brighter future.

Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA will be established to contribute to truth, healing and reconciliation between Native American Indian Nations and the United States of America.

Please join and share our Facebook page at:

Peace to all.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Sunday, April 21, 2013


I was born socially awkward, though I have learned how to "act" appropriately. Social interaction is an intricate dance that sometimes mystifies me and can be exhausting. I strive to say the right things at the right time but I usually make a mistake and other people react badly. They don’t seem to understand how perplexing and frightening it is for me to communicate with humans. Thankfully, I have still managed to make some friends who understand and appreciate my quirks. As a kid I considered Mr. Spock to be a kindred spirit.

During high school I hung out with the other outsiders. We weren’t Jocks (sports team members), Snots (popular kids), Dirts (smokers, drinkers, and drug users), Geeks (semi-popular kids) or fit in with any other group. The mean kids called us Freaks. We referred to ourselves as the Square Pegs, in deference to a mediocre teenage television sitcom. We managed to find each other and ate in the “overflow” lunchroom. I preferred the space because it was quiet. The main lunchroom was crowded, loud, and made me very nervous.

There were about twelve in our group and we spanned several grades. We welcomed other weirdoes and found camaraderie with each other. It was nice to be with people who knew what it was like to be bullied by the other kids. Sadly, during our tenure in school the victim was to blame for being bullied. We treated each other with respect and provided emotional support since few adults were our champions. After graduation, we remained in contact but eventually lost track of each other.

During a visit to my hometown, I went out for dinner with my first cousin. Nancy is fifteen years older than I am but we get along splendidly. We went out for a drink afterwards and ended up at the local dive. A large sign states “No smoking allowed inside” as you enter the business. It is an old dimly lit badly decorated establishment but it makes enough money to remain open. We sat at the nearly deserted bar and she knew everybody there. She introduced me as her “Cousin from the Cities.” I drank my favorite Malibu rum and coke, with very little ice. Though it is against Minnesota state law, people were smoking inside the bar, including the owner/bartender.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to my parents and the couple sitting next to Nancy knew my folks. The man lounging next to them perked up, “When did you graduate?” he inquired. I informed him and he started laughing and told me his name. He was a Square Pegger!! George smokes so he has not aged well but he still sort of looked like he did way back in the day. I’m more than twice the weight I was in high school, my hair is now gray and shorter, and he didn’t recognize me either.

We chatted. He was honest about making some foolish mistakes during the ensuing years but loves having kids. I told him of my life but I was careful because I knew that whatever I said would get back to my family, thus is the gossip trail in a small town. He and I were friendly in high school but there has never been a romantic interest. None now but he did inquire about Marvin. Marvin and I were best friends during high school but Marvin moved to Chicago and ceased contact. George had heard that Marvin was “funny” dressing in women’s clothes. I set him straight and told him that Marvin was gay, pun intended. Marvin had given me permission long ago to tell anyone that I wanted to that he was gay. I consider a person’s sexuality to be a personal matter but since Marvin and George were friends in high school, I told the truth. George wasn’t surprised.

George is still holds a lot of resentment against the torments that we endured growing up. He bumps into the ones living or visiting the area and it causes him pain and anger. I told him that they weren’t worth the energy. I choose not to dwell on the horrors that they caused for me, which were numerous. I have no desire to attend a class reunion and be subjected to the cutting remarks of the now-adult bastards. A few may have matured and may even feel remorse but none have ever apologized to me. I have encountered several who won’t admit that they caused any harm. It is difficult enough to deal with the bullies in my family. I hope that all the Square Peggers are doing well. George gave me an unexpected hug as we were leaving. I’m glad that he is doing okay.

Avoiding round holes.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Thursday, April 18, 2013


Celebrate the tenth Cash Mob St Paul MN (CMSPM)! Help support a local business by spending at least $20 cash at this event (okay to spend less). Please officially join the event via our Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/events/188485564633269/?ref=3

CMSPM Event #10
Please join us:
Date: Saturday, April 27th, 2013
Time: 11:30am (okay to arrive late or visit shop on a different day)
Your Turn Vintage
365 E 7TH Street
St. Paul 55101 www.yourturnvintage.com
Phone: 651.321.8738
Hours: Wednesday – Saturday 11AM to 6PM & Sunday 12PM to 6PM
Directions: Located on the edge of Downtown Saint Paul and East Saint Paul, across from the HWY 52/Lafayette Bridge. Your Turn shares the large Warehouse building with Best Of Times and Fantasy Gifts. They have two entrances, one on E 7th Street, and another on E 8th Street. There is plenty of free parking available around the building.

The cash mob rules are simple:
1. Spend $20 cash (more or less but cash does speed up the check out process),
2. Chat with three people that you don’t know but please bring along a friend or two, and
3. Enjoy yourself! We want this to be a fun experience for everyone.

On the CMSPM Facebook (FB) page:
* Please RSVP with “Join” if you can make it; invite your FB Friends; and SHARE THIS INVITATION WITH OTHERS via FB by posting on your personal page. Help spread the word to non-FB folks (see next paragraph for details).
* If you can’t attend, you can temporarily indicate a “Maybe” to invite your FB friends and then decline at a later date.
* Please decline before the event if you have to cancel. It’s rude to be a no-show.
* “Like” our FB community page at “Cash Mob St Paul MN” to receive notification of future events and invite your FB Friends to join us, too! www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Cash-Mob-St-Paul-MN/297499490345966

We welcome other methods of advertising our efforts, if you would like to co-host or publicize this event in another way, such as MeetUp or another FB group. Please send a message via our FB page and keep us informed as to the numbers of people attending. The more the merrier!

We permit business owners to nominate their own shop. If we banned proprietors, they would just ask someone else to nominate their store. If the weather is inclimate, just visit the store on another date. We will not reschedule.

Optional: Wear something green to the occasion to indicate that you are a member of the Cash Mob…just an idea, not a requirement.

Thank you ever so much!

PS If you can’t join us for this happening, please patronize the business another time and let them know that you heard about their entrepreneurial efforts from Cash Mob St Paul MN.

© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013


Shocked and appalled by the tragic bombings at the 2013 Boston Marathon. Too many innocent people died and were wounded physically and emotionally (one is too many). I began to sob when I heard the news. Only a poltroon, or curs if more than one person was involved, would place an explosive device at a public event. What lily-livered, faint-hearted, sniveling bastard(s)!

It takes real courage to be non-violent. You have to be strong to not bully, intimidate or harm others when you are hurt or angry. Pain is horrible but inflicting pain upon others only exacerbates the problem. How are we to evolve as a species if we keep resorting to violence? As I have stated before, any type of negative behavior only proves that the perpetrator has a weak personality. They aren’t able to resolve their dispute in with a dialogue but chose to assault their victim(s) with words, fists, bombs, bullets or other types of harm (physical, emotional, etc). Fools. They only prove how dim-witted they are when they damage others.

I will reiterate that everyone is capable of violence. I choose not to be mean and nasty. I stay away from negative people because they make me more prone to cynicism. It is difficult to remain sanguine or at least neutral. Some days it requires all my strength not to slide into the pit of disparagement. I refuse to let other humans or life’s situation to pull me into the dark. I choose to walk in the light. I’m no Pollyanna, I don’t ignore that the negative is there and that life can stink at times. I just make the choice every single day to be positive and help others.

Volunteer, donate to nonprofits, teach the children in your life to care about others, and befriend your neighbors. Overcome your fear and get to know people who you may be wary of as you become more inclusive to diversity. We are all human; we are all kin. Build a positive world; it’s our only hope.

Peace To All.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Monday, April 15, 2013


Provider Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment (POLST)
Do Not Resuscitate (Allow Natural Death)
Limit Interventions and Treat Reversible Conditions
Trial of Intubation, 14 days (when condition is reversible)
Antibiotics and Nutrition/Hydration only when condition is reversible
Comfort Care when the condition is terminal
Terminal, isn’t that a train station?
I’ll be transferring from this life to the ensuing experience
All aboard, I’m not afraid to di - - - drive into what’s next!

NOTE: Plan for the worst-case scenario. Contact your lawyer or check online for your state’s POLST directive. You should add it to your Will documents. Give a copy to the executor of your estate and file with the local government, if appropriate.

Period. End of Discussion.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Saturday, April 13, 2013


Sometimes I’m afraid to be alone.
What if I should fall down the stairs?
What if I should die?
How long would it take for my broken body to be discovered?
Will the cats eat me? Shall they die of dehydration?
I’ve made a Will. My best amigo is in charge.
She knows that I have a nasty family.
I feel sorry to have deserted her to their ire.
Alas, I don’t plan to choose when I expire.

POLST yourself.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Thursday, April 11, 2013


Brown, tan, and grays everywhere you look. The ground remains frozen as the snow melts revealing the trash and sand dispersed during the cold months. We need some gentle rains of less than an inch to help thaw the soil. Instead, the Twin Cities (and much of the Midwest) was coated with another heavy layer of snow. Now is the winter of my discontent!

The roadways are chock full of cavities, wrecking havoc on tires and auto suspensions. A couple years ago on my way to an interview I could not avoid a deep pothole. The affected tire developed a bulge on its side so I had to get it replaced. Tires are very expensive and I was irritated beyond words. The road dental crews need to fill up the crevices with asphalt.

I am crabby about the extension of winter. It is mid-April; I ought to be able to rake away the debris. I want to start my peas and other cool weather plants that can endure 40-degree nights. I want my eyes to be overwhelmed with green and my nose filled with the essence of chlorophyll. I want to hear the happy chirp of birds as the leaves and tulips emerge from their slumber. I want to shed my heavy coat and boots for at least six months. I don’t mind winter but it should vacate by the end of March.

Seeking Spring.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Monday, April 8, 2013


When you don’t know what is wrong, you suffer. When the injured party can’t tell you what is wrong, you both are miserable. Such is the plight of an ill feline. She can’t use human words to articulate the problem, and the veterinarian can only make an educated guess. Zozo appeared to have a sinus infection and breathing returned to almost normal after consuming the Clavamox medication for a few days. Unfortunately, a couple days after ceasing the medicine her breathing became labored again. I called the veterinarian and procured another round of antibiotics. The new meds, Zeniquin 25mg (Marboflocacin) is a stronger formula that has been approved for dogs but the vet said that there have been good results with cats. It cost $27 for two weeks since the pills are cut in half.

Because she is intelligent, I learned to show Zozo the pill, pry open her mouth, and set the pill on the back of her tongue. When she is obliging, she swallows, I praise her, and Zozo purrs. Better than trying to trick her to eat it, which usually did not work or forcing it into her mouth. The logical approach reduced her bitter and resentful reaction to an irritated scowl. Placing a dab of butter on the pill seems to make her more compliant but she knows enough to avoid me when she hears the pill bottle being opened.

Tillie is excited because I have continued to give Zozo a daily dose of L-lysine. The 500 mg pill is huge so I crush it in my mortar bowl with a pestle. I scoop out about a tablespoon of wet cat food, mix in the crushed amino-acid, and place it on a small plate. Tillie gets about a teaspoon on her own plate. I have to watch to make certain that Zozo consumes her portion or else Tillie will body-check Zozo and gobble down the doctored food. Tillie is a bully even though she weighs less and is younger than Zozo. I have been taking a pill too since I’ve been dealing with the whiplash and a cold. The vet copied a page from a medical book to support the use of lysine for me to read. I should have asked for the title of the book.

Zozo was better after only two doses of the stronger antibiotic. The vet told me to give her the entire two-week dose to make certain that the infection is cleared. She has been throwing up more than usual and I wonder if it is related to the medication. Veterinarians should provide the same reference sheet as human-treating doctors do when administering prescriptions. I would have a better understanding of what to watch for regarding adverse reactions. The stress of having an ill animal makes it difficult to remember conversations at the vet office; I’m lucky that I don’t collapse from worry. I adore my cats and have a responsibility to make certain that they are healthy and happy. They rely upon me to be a good caretaker. I take that responsibility seriously.

Love my felixes.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Friday, April 5, 2013


Dementia is insidious. Obviously, it is detrimental to the patient but it also affects all who care about that person. My mother was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago. Mom said that it would be better to have terminal cancer than Alzheimer’s and sadly, I must agree. She was angry about the prognosis because the medical researchers know very little about the cause, cure or even how to slow down the decline of mental capabilities. Dad became resentful because she was his servant for fifty years and now he has to take care of her.

It has been awful watching her personality disappear. The sparkle in her eyes only appears on occasion and the silences are increasing. She retains a little information but repeats the same question over and over again. I urged my father to place a chalkboard in the living room, where they spend the majority of their time, with the answers to most of her frequent questions. He had to procure a larger board because the questions have increased beyond the day of the week and date on the calendar. I’m sure it is annoying to endure the questions every day.

Sibling Number Two is a Licensed Practical Nurse and has worked at several nursing homes. She has taken charge of our parent’s care. She also lives nearby and has a couple kids who can help her on occasion. I acquiesce because she has professional expertise that I lack. However, they have ignored my suggestions to enroll Mom in dementia medical trials at the nearby Mayo Clinic. Mayo is one of the top medical institutions in the world and has a top-notch research wing. It is wrong not to take advantage of that resource.

During a recent trip home my Dad went to run errands and I stayed with Mom. We had just eaten breakfast and she wanted to go back to bed. Silly me, I should have gone along with her wish but I encouraged her to walk around a bit. She has always liked to sleep nine hours per night but now sleeps for twelve hours and naps a lot during the day. She walked about ten feet into the kitchen and started to get wobbly. I pulled up a chair and she sat down. She became limp and listed over. I managed to catch her and in about a minute she regained consciousness but was too woozy to stand. I pulled up a chair and sat with her.

My Dad had told me about her shaky spells so I didn’t call 911. They have been happening for nearly a year. This was my first personal experience with the condition. She is able to hear but loses all muscle tone and collapses. The episode tends to last a minute or two and then she is fine. Unfortunately, this was not the case. She would be chatting and then become limp over and over again. Sometimes, her leg would shake or she could slightly move her arm but she wasn’t able to control her body. She’d wake up enough to state, “This is the pits.” I wanted to have her lie down on the kitchen floor but she refused. I knew that I did not have the strength to carry her to the bedroom especially since I still am in pain from the whiplash.

Dad returned home about ten minutes after the attack began. He wanted to move her to the bedroom because she always got better after sleeping. We transferred her to sit in a walker with wheels (they don’t have a wheelchair) and moved her down the hallway. We got into the bedroom and were about to convey her to the bed when she went limp and slid out of the chair. I caught her so she didn’t fall down hard. A hard fall could result in broken bones or a concussion.

Dad called my sister who had worked the night shift and was sleeping. She came over and Mom was able to get up off the floor. They slowly moved her out to my sister’s car and to the hospital. I drove separately. I needed to because I began to cry. When Mom was lying on the floor I knew what she would look like in her casket. She has always been supportive of me. Once she dies, my connection to the family ends.

It was a quiet morning at the Emergency Room. The Medical Technician took blood and urine samples. Mom’s blood pressure and oxygen levels were monitored. Her blood pressure dropped when she sat and especially when she stood and her oxygen was down a bit. A saline solution intravenous drip was attached and oxygen administered through a nose tube. She had previously worn a heart monitor for a few days but it showed no abnormalities. Thankfully, Mom wasn’t upset but she did seem a bit confused. As long as Dad and my sister were there, she was calm. My neck began to spasm, probably due to the stress.

Eventually, the Doctor came in to make an evaluation. A Medical Scribe accompanied her. He typed away as she spoke with my Mom, sister and Dad. My sister had told me to “shut up” earlier so I remained silent. The tests showed that Mom was a bit dehydrated but there was no other obvious cause for the Limp episodes. After four hours, we took her home and she couldn’t remember that she was at the hospital. The next day she was back to normal.

It is frustrating to be so helpless. I remember a verse from Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time song,
“I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.”
Aging is a natural process but it is still excruciating to experience. My Mom is enduring a double death, first with dementia erasing her personality and then it could take years before her body dies.

Sibling Number One began her campaign of hatred against me thirty years ago and has managed to infect the rest of the family with her lies. I am already estranged and feel very vulnerable in their presence. I want Mom to be happy but they have never treated her well. My sisters aren’t nice to her. Our Dad has belittled and bullied her for as long as I can remember. He may suffer from self-inflicted homophobia but he doesn’t have the right to be mean to Mom. She should have divorced him years ago. He is taking care of her now but begrudgingly. I would not be surprised if they moved her into a nursing home soon. Due to the Limp episodes, I would agree but I think that her mental status will suffer as a result. She likes to be at home.

Mom’s older sister also has dementia so the illness may be genetic. My physiology is closer to my mother than my father so I fear that I may inherit this horrible condition. There is no way to avoid the illness, no cure nothing nada zip zero just total abject hopelessness. I don’t have children and my friendly nieces and nephew (kids of Sibling Number Three) live far away. I have very little saved for retirement and will probably end up at the county poor house. I’d rather commit suicide than experience a slow lonely death in an institution.

Missing my Mama
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Wednesday, April 3, 2013


Kind Hearted Woman is a compelling documentary of Robin Poor Bear and her family’s journey. It recently aired on PBS and exemplifies why we need a Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA (TRC USA). More information at the end of this blog.

Tragic is the legacy wrought by the Indian Residential Boarding School system. Children were torn from their families and traumatized across the United States of America. A courageous group of people in the state of Maine is leading the USA in this matter. They want to open the painful wound, clean it with truth, and heal it with reconciliation. The scar will remain but future generations will not have to bear the burden of suppressed sorrow. We have a responsibility to make the world a better place for them.

The Maine Wabanaki-State Child Welfare Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) site states:
* The United States government has tried many different ways to solve what they called “the Indian problem” - stealing land, killing off entire tribes by war and disease and by taking Indian children away from their families and communities.
* In the 1800’s, different church groups with the support of the government took Indian children and sent them to boarding schools far away from their communities where they couldn’t speak their own language, wear their own clothes or practice their own religion. They also treated Indian children badly, abusing them physically, emotionally and sexually. Many of these children died. The ones who made it home after years in these schools were not the same as when they left.
* In the 1950’s, the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the Child Welfare League of America did an experiment where they took hundreds of Indian children from their families to raise them in white homes, thinking it was better for them.
* In Maine, Indian children were taken from their families and placed in white foster homes at a higher rate than most other states.
* In 1978, the federal government passed a law called the Indian Child Welfare Act that gave Indian children more protection and recognized a child’s tribal citizenship is as important as their family relationship. Maine child welfare has been working with Wabanaki tribes to have an improved relationship and to work better with Wabanaki people. A lot of progress has been made, but there are still some problems. This TRC will identify the problems and make suggestions to help fix these problems. (Maine Tribal TRC, 2013)
More details are at www.mainetribaltrc.org Please note that many Boarding schools remained open until the 1980s and many children remain in non-tribal foster care.

Part of the process is community dialogue. You can begin the progression by holding a community event. It will take a lot of audacity and planning to air out the painful truth of the boarding school legacy. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada has created an excellent guide for community events at:
I am certain that they would connect you with a mentor in Canada who would be willing to provide guidance for your own community gathering.

Suppressed sorrow statistics were published in the March 21, 2013 and a potential proposal for the TRC USA is posted on March 22, 2013 blog entry.

You are cordially invited to join and advertise our effort -
Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA will be established to contribute to truth, healing and reconciliation between Native American Indian Nations and the United States of America.

Please JOIN our Facebook page, search for "Petition to establish a Truth and Reconciliation Commission of the USA"

Peace be with you.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing

Tuesday, April 2, 2013


Three worms is readable, four is better!

The Uninvited by Liz Jensen Four Worms
Intriguing investigation into surrealism from the viewpoint of a person with Aspbergers. Creepy well-structured science fiction set in the present day. Some sections could have used more bulk but excellent overall. Ironically, worm rating is appropriate.

Chinese Whiskers by Pallavi Aiyar Three Worms
Cute tale of cats in Beijing, China. Appropriate for adolescents though there is some political commentary. Glossary at the end is helpful.

As Sweet As Honey by Indira Ganesan Three Worms
Delightful story but confusing with so many voices. It would have been better to chronologically follow the life of Meterling. Her narrative was the strongest.

Data, A Love Story by Amy Webb Three Worms
Non-fictional examination of author’s quest to locate companionship. Dry journalistic approach did not create empathy with the author who swears a lot. Helpful hints are sequestered to the appendix.

The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling Two and Half Worms
Tragic realistic tale with numerous characters. Difficult to determine who was whom when the perspective altered during the same chapter. It would have been better to focus on the development of one personality, like Krystal.

Enchanting Lily by Anjali Banerjee Two Worms
Schmaltzy romance novel.

Just read it.
© 2013 Ima B. Musing