Sunday, February 06, 2005

MOVING, yet again

I'm moving my blog, this blog, to which is/has been my live journal for quite some time.

You see, I chose this blog site because I liked it's format, or so I thought, but they do not allow you to copy and paste (?) -or maybe they have some magic way of doing it but I cannot figure it out for the life of me- and I lost an entire, long blog that I wrote the other day, and for fear of that happening again, I'm changing my journal to my blog...which I suppose is really the same thing and I just should have made it Heather Pond to begin with, but blah blah blah...I don't know what I was thinking and to explain it would bore you even more than you are bored right now!

So go to my new, I mean old blog already!

See you there!

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

poem: Lady Law

Lady Law

Lady Law
un-full of grace,
leans her brow
of steel toward us.

the charges brought,
announced aloud:
our sins
in breath
and sleeping.

the list is long.
the words are sharp.
she spits them down
into our eyes.

then red and rotten,
our view askewed:
a kaleidoscope of sin.

Copyrighted (c) 2005 Heather Dearmon

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Peculiar Christian Poets

Despite what some religious people may think, the tsunami disaster in December was NOT God's wrath or judgment being poured out on the unrighteous. Someone posted a poem in my Yahoo Group, Peculiar Christian Poets, and it basically says that all natural disasters are from God unleashing His anger, and you know that's the kind of stuff that really gets under my skin. So I just kindly posted some verses in the group, just to make clear that our God is a God of love.

Monday, January 17, 2005

I am up, ridiculously late as usual, but I realize that I have much writing to catch-up on, for instance, to let you know that 1) the Redbook article has not yet been published, and will be, someday soon. The story has been submitted, and the writer read it to me in it's entirety and I must say that it is very well written and I am extremely pleased. Now the Redbook editors have to call me and do a "fact check" and then send a photographer here to burn a lasting image of my face onto film -or perhaps it will be digital- who knows these days?
That's one. Now for 2): Things have been better here at the commune. We all had a long talk, and everyone moved out, and into their own home next door, and one returned to Florida, but all on good terms. Those of us still here have made an effort to get together every evening to talk and pray, and I'd say 5 out of 7 nights we actually do. God has shown up too, with words of encouragement, His strong and weighty presence has been felt, and visions have come forth. Lots of discussion about the Word and what parts of it could mean. It's been good. Very good.
I have wanted to express my feelings about Christmas and also the tsunami. The first was very good. The second very bad and I have thought about it often, and am continually touched by the stories that come up on the news. The BBC website has more info on the tsunami than any American website I've been to, and I encourage you to visit it. I'd link it if I could, but the dizzy feeling of sleep is taking hold of me, so I will surrender to it atlast...if I must. I'm afraid I've made a bunch of spelling errors already because of it, and if I keep writing in this state of sleepiness, I'm sure to wear-out the backspace button.

More to catch you up on soon.

I'll leave you with this: I love the Return of the King Extended Edition. I have cried each time I've watched it. I can just think of it and want to cry. We're all in Middle Earth, and the Ring story continues in each of us.

Great, now I'm not only sleepy but also getting sappy...

Friday, January 07, 2005

Dogs and Hogs

Just a few days ago I was informed that the Humane Society conducted raids during the week of December 17th, in Alabama, Arizona and South Carolina. The raid in South Carolina was at the home of a man who runs the American Bulldog shows in my state. Jeremy, Jonah and I attended two of the shows and sold some of the American Bulldog items I created.

I absolutely LOVE my two American Bulldogs, Sarah and Bully, a.k.a. Grumpy and Shoo-shoo, and I adore the American Bulldog breed. However, I have never --never ever ever--agreed with the so-called sport of "hog catching" and holding that view, I have been like a sore thumb in the American Bulldog world, but hey, I'm a peace-loving, veggie-eating bohemian living in the Bible Belt, so I'm pretty much used to sticking out.

I have never been to a hog-catching trial and would never attend one. The act is barbaric and could very well be compared to the bear-baiting shows that took place in 16th century England. I have always been amazed that is was legal for people to have hog-catching trials, and I have always been disgusted to think that so-called human beings could actually take pleasure in watching such a horrific event. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, I mean, our barbaric culture condones America's inhumane factory farming every time they buy a hotdog or a pound of ground beef. It's bloodshed, it's cruelty, whether you're there to watch it or not, and the human appetite finds pleasure in it, every single day. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, "You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity."

American Bulldogs --and any dog for that matter-- should not be judged for their ability to "catch" a hog. If we must judge, I believe that we need to examine the character, or fruits, of a heart. Dogs, and all animals, bear fruit in their hearts just as we humans do. These fruits hold the names of love, kindness, patience, peace, joy, get the idea. Some animals, like humans, have more fruit than others. The American Bulldogs I have met in my life, the ones in my home, and even the wonderful Pitbulls we have owned and loved, have big and beautiful fruits in their hearts. They have souls. And I believe each and every creature, even hogs, have hearts and souls -they have been created with the same loving hands that our Father used when He created us. I adore them all, and forgive me, but it is continually hard for me to understand why other people have such...well, hard hearts, when it comes to animals.

It seems to me that any effort we can make to help lessen the pain and abuse of another creature is an act of love and grace. So what holds people back? Why do people continually eat meat, let their animals over-breed, entertain themselves with circuses and...hog-catching trials?

When I found out about the raids...a big smile grew upon my face.

Thank you Lord for caring for your creation, even though many people think that Your creation, Your creatures, are put here to serve us --and that we may do with them as we please-- You, Father, do not consider them so lightly. Thank You for the Humane Society who is taking charge of this terrible injustice to both the hogs and the dogs. ALL GOOD THINGS come from YOU! So thank you. You're awesome.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

A World of Trouble

I'm very glad that I live in America, I really am. I mean, I don't think any McCuen could survive without free speech. But tonight I am very disappointed in my country's government that is supposed to "serve and protect".

At around 10:30 pm tonight, our 16 year old neighbor ran over to our house with a bleeding lip and handprints on her arms from her father who "punished her" for taking a pack of his cigarrettes without permission. Note here that he does allow her to smoke in his house, so she wasn't being punished for smoking, but for taking his cigarettes.

The first time I met my 16 year old neighbor was over the summer when I heard a knock at our front door at 10 pm. I opened the door to find two little girls, one 9 years old and the other 2, and with them a little mutt dog. The 9 year old had a roll of quarters in her hand, and she asked me if I had a pack of cigarrettes that she could by for her Dad. I told her we didn't have any cigarrettes when just then my bulldog pushed his way out the door and began to chew on their little mutt. I got Bully back in the house when I saw a teenager come running down our driveway. At first I thought it was a boy, but then when he spoke I realized that he was a she. I told the girls, all of them, that they were welcome to come back another time and play with Jonah. And come back they did, and we have grown to love all of them. The 9 year old is the 16 year old's sister, the 2 year old is (get this) the daughter of the fathers' girlfriends' daughter, who also happens to be a stripper, and who's husband is now going to prison for drug charges.

I knew that sooner or later something like tonight was going to happen, especially since my 16 year old neighbor had often told me how her Dad was rough with her and how she had to call the cops numerous times -but she told me, to my surprise and disgust, that the police never did anything. Never pressed charges, never took her away to be protected--nothing, nada, zip!

I told her that if her Dad ever hurt her again to come to our house and I'd call the police and make sure that they did something about it! Well guess what?The dad hurt, she came, we called, and they didn't do shit. Crying and shaking, she told the cop that she was sure her Dad would hurt -ever murder her- if she went back home. Then the cop told her and all of us (Jeremy, me, Chris and Michelle) that his "hands were tied" -that her Dad is her legal guardian, and it's up to Social Services to do something if they feel the need to, after he turns in a report to them tomorrow. But the cop had to take her back home, and possibly he could persuade her dad to let her stay the night with us, but that, of course, didn't happen.

Furious, I picked up the phone and called the person who I always turn to when I need serious advice: I called my father. With my Dad's advice I called the Police Dept., armed with the words of my father, and explaining my problem to one person, I was then forwarded to a woman who I assume is the one they forward all phone calls to when they need someone who can give totally obscure and belittling answers so that the caller feels that putting their head in a flushing toilet would have produced a more effective event, and would have been less disgusting too.

I hung up the phone realizing I had been bam-boozled: I had been given the good old run-around that those who work on tax-payers money are so very damn good at. The woman who could've-cared-less that I spoke with at the Dept. promised that she'd have the supervisor of the police officer who came to my house call me, never called.

I am sad and frustrated. My heart breaks for my neighbor who had to go back under the roof of her abusive father, and my foot wants to find an ass to...gently nudge (yeah right) in our wonderful community of cannot-protect-and-serve-to-save-our-damn-lives police department (and the government officials that pass the dumb laws to let such incidences go on... and on and on.)

Tonight I pray for the safety of my neighbor. Lord protect her and her sister from the hands that would harm them, the words that would bruise them, protect them Lord, tonight and always. Only You can Lord. Only You.

Please Lord, reach the heart of the abuser and change him, or atleast subdue his anger and violence until the situation can be changed --and change it, do, please.


Sunday, December 12, 2004


My head has been foggy for a week or so now, and I'm not sure if it's from all the benadryl I've been taking for this seemingly constant sniffling and sneezing and sinus pressure, or if it's my mind's way of trying to escape all the pressures and dredful emotions I've been dealing with.

Most of it has to do with this whole commune thing. I mean, for me lately, it's been really really hard. I can't even begin to write about it getting foggy in here?...because it's not just one thing, it is a thousand little things, and I'm struggling with the whole spirit verses flesh, and part of me wants to just run back to my old, non-challenging life and sit happily in my recliner with a can of Coke while a Meg Ryan movie turns in the VCR. Oh bliss. Right?

Well, that is not going to happen. It seems like God wants to change me. Huh. Like, what does He know anyway? Maybe what's best for me? Yeah. Yeah, He does. Darnit. This is not fun. Not right now. Not really fun at all. It's pathetically boo-hooing my flesh all over the place. It's a big, loud pity-party drowning out the quiet whispering of my spirit.

Boy, the fog is becoming so thick I can hardly read the computer screen.

Lord willing, this won't turn into a bad storm.

Update on Redbook: Article is not in this month's issue (yeah, so now I tell you) and will either appear in January's, or, most likely, in February's issue.