It's all gut-wrenching and nearly incomprehensible, but to me the most heartbreaking aftermath of Sunday's earthquake and tsunami is the thousands of orphans and missing children.

After a day and a night stuck in coconut trees, [Taiwanese girl Yeh Chia-ni] told rescuers: "I thought my parents didn't want me any more."

People are being incredibly generous, and in addition to pledges from governments around the world, large organizations and retailers are pledging funds and making it easy for individuals to help, too. Just a few examples: Amazon.com had collected over $5 million as of midday today from a link on its front page, and many other tech types are adding to that.

The Pew Charitable Trusts of Philadelphia plans to send $1 million to the American Red Cross to support relief efforts. The organization's chief executive officer, Rebecca Rimel, says she hopes that Philadelphia residents will contribute $500,000 and that major cities across the USA will each meet or exceed $1 million in donations.... "If every major city could rise to this enormous challenge, the private sector could come up with $50 million to $75 million" and help save perhaps 1 million survivors from starvation, disease and homelessness, she says.

Let's show the US administration just how generous we're willing to be. (I swiped the addresses and links -- hope that's okay, a.j.)

International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies
PO Box 372
CH-1211 Geneva 19
Switzerland
41-22-730-4222

UNICEF
333 East 38th Street
New York, NY 10016
1-800-FOR-KIDS

American Friends Service Committee (AFSC Crisis Fund)
1501 Cherry Street
Philadelphia, PA
1-215-241-7000

Doctors Without Borders/Medecins Sans Frontieres
PO Box 2247
New York, NY 10116-2247
1-888-392-0392

Mercy Corps
PO Box 2669
Portland, OR 97208
1-800-852-2100

Oxfam International/Oxfam America
1-800-77OXFAM

Save the Children
Asia Earthquake/Tidal Wave Relief Fund
54 Wilton Road
Westport, CT 06880
1-800-728-3843

Quake altered Earth's orbit

The 9.0 earthquake that devastated Asia late last week had an astronomical impact, literally. That's just frightening.

More reading, maps, and video here.

And more pictures of the babes, to steady my heart.

From the land of plenty

I just found a poetry contest at The American Street that reminds me that poetry can be political, too. Its single rule: Use Donald Rumsfeld's line, "You go to war with [sic: what] you have," in verse of three lines or more.

I might tap one out, but here's my pick so far:

Scrounging through the spoils of war
Finding scrap and little more,
The soldier stood and faced the man
Who answered from the speaker’s stand,
“You go to war with what you have”

Another man, in other ranks
Facing guns and planes and tanks
Sets a charge and turns away
Another bomb, another day
“You go to war with what you have”

The President sets forth his case
Claim victory while saving face
The heavy cost is justified
While bolstering our common pride
“You go to war with what you have”

In towns and cities through the nation
Witnessing the same occasion
Sons, daughters, husbands, wives
Called to set aside their lives
“You go to war with what you have”

by Harry — December 23, 2004 @ 8:38 pm

An online friend's brother just came home from Iraq, alive thank God. But this US Marine does have bacterial meningitis and otitis media, and almost lost an eye. He didn't go over there with any of that (except the eye, of course). Dare anyone call me unpatriotic because I question how our troops are provisioned and cared for as they fight this $152-billion-and-counting war that has no end in sight?

Cold

I glanced outside and the thermometer read 9 degrees. So I let the dogs in, and they must know it's a treat because they're behaving so very well. They seem to have had a tiff sometime this evening, though, because Chica was lying right by the front door but Lucy came from around back and they just growled at each other. What do dogs fight about? They're well fed and have plenty of room to roam, but sometimes they get snappish with each other, kind of how I used to fight with my friends when I was a kid -- I hate you forever for one day, sheepishly stroll by your house the next, and the day after that am thrilled when you come out on your bike to ride up to the playground with me. But tiff or not, on a cold night like this they should be cuddled up tight together. And dang it, I forgot to get hay for their doghouse, which probably explains why at least one of them wasn't in there lying on that cold hard floor.

Antonio seems to be doing okay in Denver. He's sad and misses life here, but he found a job right away and will probably find a second one early in the new year. I talk to Lazarus about "Papa" throughout the day, and tell him often that Papa loves him so much, and sometimes Lazarus tells me something he wants to tell Papa, like, "Tell Papa Lucy grumpy" or "Lil guy chase chickins Papa." But then a truck drives by and Lazarus calls out "Papa coming" and I hate having to tell him that, no, Papa's not coming, but Papa loves you.... Whatever else is going on here in grownup land, all Lazarus knows is that Papa isn't here and hasn't been coming home in the evenings anymore, and knowing he feels that loss just makes me sad.

And even though I was already doing 90% of the childcare and chores around the house (sorry, hon', but it's the truth), that last 10% is killin' me. Around 5 or 6 p.m. I just want to go hide -- late afternoon/early evening is always the witching hour, but in the summer I could let Laz roam around outdoors till dinner was ready. Being penned up in the house sucks, and I have to admit that we've been watching more movies, "The Tigger Movie" being his current favorite. No matter what, though, sometime after dinner Laz will go sit in his little reading chair and spend an hour or more looking at his books. We've read some of them so many times now that he can narrate the story as he goes -- tonight I knew he was looking at "The Very Hungry Caterpiller" because I could hear him saying "four strawberries... cupcake... watermelon... pickle!" and then "oh, pretty butterfly!"

I should be working, not writing, so off I go. Gotta stoke up the woodstove, too -- keep them dogs warm....

"Mama fun tonight!"

Lazarus told me that tonight as I put him to bed. I've been tired and busy and a bit snappish the past few days, so I was really glad to hear him say that.

I was also pleased to get the camera working -- I read the manual (what a concept, huh?) and found I just had to reset it to get the internal memory working again. So heeeeeeeeeeeere's Maggie!


And here's Lucy and Lazarus, just goofing around (once in a while I let the dogs in, much to their and the children's delight... tonight I just needed them to scarf up all the food Maggie dropped around her chair during dinner. Then I gave them each a pork bone and booted their restless hairy cat-chasing butts out the door.) The back story: The bowl Lazarus is holding suddenly became empty, but Lucy insisted she was in the other room chasing Keiko up the ladder and had nothing to do with it. And a special note to Keri: Laz has always loved the letter thingie you gave him, but now he sings the different letters -- often on his own!

No pictures, alas

More camera woes: I discovered (after much searching and gnashing of teeth) that the little memory card somehow slipped right out of my digital camera. This was just not a good buy. So I've dusted off my "real" camera and will keep shooting, and will somehow get the pictures from film to pixels. Somehow.

Antonio left for Denver on Friday and had a good trip up. Lazarus keeps asking for him, and I don't quite know what to say except that "Papa went on a trip. Papa loves you." How do military families do it? And they're going half a world away, for God knows how long, to stand in the line of fire that Donald Dick and friends insist is essential to world peace. Funny that, waging a war in the name of peace. Though they never use that word so I guess I'm expecting too much. ANYway, so I tell myself not to feel too stressed out, but it's hard sometimes, especially right before Christmas.

Time to make some chicken for the monkeys. Maggie can now eat all kinds of tiny-bite-sized foods by herself, and seems to favor her left hand lately. I love watching her focus on a piece, slowly reach for and grasp it, cram it in her mouth, and chuckle when she likes how it tastes. Her favorites seem to be chicken, peaches, Cheerios, and cheese. Lazarus' current favorite food is "peendie buttah" -- peanut butter, preferably straight from the jar with a spoon, or on an apple slice if I insist. Another cool development: Lazarus seems to be accepting Maggie as "human" a bit more every day. He sometimes takes a favorite book or toy to show her, and yesterday was playing her little music box and dancing for her, much to her delight.

Okay, dinner, then bedtime, then back to work -- the evening routine is pretty grueling with two babes, more so when I have an edit on deck. Work is good, of course, but it's the week before Christmas and I REALLY want to send cards and thank-yous to my generous family and bake cookies to make little boxes of goodies for all the people in town who've been so kind this year. Sarah at the bank, who didn't blink an eye when I brought several hundred dollars of change in to deposit. Abby and Libby at the post office, who always google over Laz and Maggie. Betty at the hardware store, Barbara at the grocery store, Clay at the feed store (my new best friend now that I have 50 or so chickens that Antonio left), Bob and Harold the car mechanics (who are always happy to jumpstart the Bronco, which dies almost every time I take it out), Steve and Betty at the wool mill, and Cat the weaver who calls me every month about the arts council meetings even though I never manage to make it. And of course Gail the knitting guru, and her deputy Evelyn who also coordinates the food bank distributions that are saving our butts this winter.

Wow. I live in a great place. Making that little list sure cheered me up.

My boy

He makes my heart sing. (When he's not making me nuts. Which is often. Gotta love two-year-olds.)

Laz talking so much now, and he works so hard to put words together. I can almost see him clicking them together in his head, this block here, then that one, then that one. It's gratifying to see that the therapy we've been doing the past year has helped him so much, and helped me understand where I can best encourage him. He is losing his idiosyncratic words like "oonie" for airplane and "moonana" for balloon and "buckabeckah" for spaghetti, but he still doesn't quite get the initial "s" on some words, so when he climbs into Maggie's walker and can't get out he calls "Duck! Duck!" And when we were picking up kindling around the woodpile the other day, he brandished a large stick and yelled "BIIIIG DICK!" The boy cracks me up. He can also count to seven so far, no kidding.

I stood Maggie up next to the big chair and she managed to hold on and hold herself up for a few moments -- she looked so dang happy. She wants so much to get into things and move around... I don't think she'll wait till she's 19 months old to start walking, not with such a fascinating big brother to chase.

This month is getting chaotic and will get more so as Antonio prepares to move to Denver, hence the lack of posts... also, the new camera is just crappy. Or I still haven't figured it out -- I'll start using the higher-resolution setting (which gives me maybe 8 shots on the tiny memory card it came with) and see how it does. I've got to get a good shot of Laz and Maggie in their Santa hats....