Brutal Realities

I've saved a picture on my desktop of 10 Nigerians who were butchered by their neighbors. Those killed were the sister, children and brother-in-law of a friend who I continue to communicate with. The picture I obtained is the photo my friend took of his family and posted it on Facebook after the deed was done. In sorrow and outrage he writes. "My sister and her four children were butchered in their sleep this night by fulani people in Fadan Karshi. Pray with us for i lack d words to describe it"


This is the second such incident I've encountered in the past year involving people I know. I wonder, "What is the world coming to?" Or perhaps, it is who I have made my friends. I grieve with my friends and gasp at the horror not many of the privileged need to grapple with. I save the terrible picture because I don't want to loose touch with the people on the other side of the world simply because they are on the other side. They are just as important as I am. And they deserve to be remembered. 


Here is a very moving speech by someone effected.

(Warning: It is quite graphic.)

Roll out the red carpet, stained with immigrant blood.

My dear husband has a cousin (brother) who was the bane of our existence during our wedding. He disappeared our flash drive with all our reception photos. He was a common thief. It was like he had the Midas touch only reversed: everything he touched turned to shit.

Some time back my husband told me that this very guy was hell bent on obtaining funds enough to go to Qatar. He asked everyone he knew for funds and when he didn't get them he strangely had an episode where he ended up in the hospital. Eventually he went to Qatar. My bets are on the fact that he got the money from his father who gave in to his antics after his episode.

Well, guess what is happening in Qatar. The world cup of 2022.

World Cup Scandals

Being a slave in Quatar

My husband is crazy about soccer. He is over the top. I told him to enjoy the games while remembering his brother. Was I bad for doing that?

I find it a bit surreal that my life has become connected to world events/human rights abuses.

Pray for the workers of World Cup 2022 and pray for their masters.

Terrified of being without Income

It's a bit hard to describe how a small conversation at work about performance could have sent me into a month long tailspin. It has delayed my trip. It gave me a week of sleepless nights followed by a 2 week stint of illness which turned into the dreaded bronchitis. I gave my illness to my twins, who were sick for a week. And now I have arrived at the conclusion: Let them fire me if they wish.

We were suddenly, out of the blue, evaluated at work on a project of interest. I had a week of training on the project and the evaluation took place during my second week on the project. Needless to say, I hadn't quite figured out any efficiencies yet and I performed poorly. I also had to completely reroute my entire daily schedule. The 5 hours I used to use helping others and solving problems had to be shut down over-night. That is not easy to do.

Mid-way through the 3rd week of work on the project. I was handed my numbers and was given 6 reasons why I should have been keeping pace with the remainder of the team. My boss was angry. I was too bewildered to even begin to know what to say. I asked him, "do you want an explanation for my performance numbers."

He said, "No."

There was not much to say after that. I was confused. The day before the meeting I had been telling him that I felt like my performance was poor and I needed help. He told me not to worry, more experience would resolve my trouble.

I had never had this occur. I was always wonder woman who did everything! Innocently I thought perhaps he was right, I should simply work harder. For the next week, I worked so hard I fell sick. then my daughters got sick also.

I'm not sure what propelled me to this self destruction outside of an irrational fear of being jobless/helpless. What I discovered the following week is that rather to be unemployed than to be the slave of an irrational boss. I donated my lunches--my precious time with my children. I did nothing but work. The house turned into a complete disaster. Because if you are a single mom, all the time you have is the time you are not working two hours to get ready and get to work in the morning. Three hours to get home from work, cook and feed the kids, then you have an hour to yourself before you must go to bed so you can function the next day.

This is the cycle I'm on and if I get off I will be plunged into the world of not knowing where my next paycheck/mouthful of food will come from. Visions of me living on the street with my little girls, flash before me. Panic fills me.

Some shreds of sanity did propel me to log every single activity I was doing every minute of the day. In the follow up meeting I had with boss on the 4th week, I gave him the log and asked him to redirect me if necessary. He thanked me for the effort but has not offered one suggestion since. I began to wonder, if this was a psychological game they were playing on us mere pawns. The thought makes my blood boil. An that is when I realize, I have enough proof to demonstrate that I was working every minute of every day. So, let them fire me. And let me collect Unemployment off of them.

Here is the photo everyone is raving about. The twins with their cousin. No judging, auntie dressed them this morning and she put on what was found.

Here's a photo from last summer.

Human Sacrifice.

I am deeply saddened by fresh news from Nigeria. An acquaintance that I knew/met at Bethel just posted the reflection below to his profile. I cringe when I hear this because on one hand in America we erroneously believe that our advance in civilization has put an end to human sacrifice. In Nigeria and in Uganda it happens in front of your eyes. But as Samuel indicates, such a travesty did not nor does it cause anyone in Nigeria to raise their voices in an outcry against the societal degradation, that produces those who use human heads in sacrificial ritual to bring prosperity and riches to their households. In Uganda, the same occurs. Children are trafficked for the purpose of ritual sacrifice. How pagan! How uncivilized! Why sacrifice? Supposedly, the individual who the ritual is performed for or the person who buries the human head of a child under his property, becomes wealthy, or so reports the article linked here, The worst form of human trafficking. 

The article also says (and I quote) 

In other cases, exploiters traffic children to countries like the UK for blood ritual. According to a BBC report, ECPAT-UK, an anti-child trafficking organization, and British authorities say that traffickers smuggled at least 400 children from Africa over the past four years for ritual purposes.

Read more: http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/rights-so-divine/2012/jan/17/worst-form-human-trafficking/#ixzz2vmDvFswk

This is BBC's account of the situation in Uganda. http://www.jubileecampaign.co.uk/petition

So there is a demand for child blood in UK, for ritual purposes? I thought the west was civilized! UK is the west. And now to bring the gruesome offense of human sacrifice all the way home, this also occurs in the U.S.A. I tried googling human sacrifice in America and all I got was Infowars' counting the Oklahoma City Bombing as among the many events of human sacrifice. Sure, that may be the case. Others list abortion as a human sacrifice. That could also fit the description, abortion debate aside. They seem more like sweeping, mass murders to me--perhaps there were incantations spoken over those heinous acts, but not quite like the Nigerian/Ugandan incident where there is such a direct correlation between one individual, who is seeking to fulfill his desires, cuts off the head of someone else or hires the people snatchers and a "witch doctor" to speak incantations, so that when all of this is done he will magically become rich. 

Unfortunately, so many are quick to say that these human sacrifices with the ritual bit and the butchery all happen in those barbaric places on dark continents. I beg to differ. During my time of extensive research into the occult and seeking it out in my own city, I've come to recognize symbols and ritual set-ups right under our very noses. Some appear in the wooded forests attended by presidents and other elites, while others happen at Super Bowl half-time shows. There are thousands upon thousands of abducted children, disappearing every year. Where do they go? 

Here's a hint. 

At the Bohemian Grove in California, every year the good old boy's club of America meet to "have some fun." They have a central ritual in front of the horned owl, where they "sacrifice" a "fake" baby and in this ritual they are "symbolically" offering up the cares of this world, purging themselves of the care for the masses they have harmed and done violence to. Now there is record, that every president in recent history has attended. A big fan-fare was made of a certain male prostitute who was featured there one year. Well, you see we've all become quite accustomed to this through the hazing and sometimes bizarre human acts of fun at fraternities--this getaway with the boys and a lot of alcohol--is pretty much the same. Who would be the wiser if someone slipped a real baby into the ritual of the horned owl, after all everyone has been imbibing since noon and it's all quite hazy. 

Perhaps nobody, who attends, is that much of a biblical scholar who but surely if this is not the exact ritual of the sacrifice of children offered to Molech, straight from the pages of Leviticus, then I would be the first to rejoice. What of the protesters that line the road to the site every year, holding their signs and demanding that the grounds be declared a crime scene? And this is where the leaders of our great nation go to formulate policy and engage the richest people in the world in a round-table, think tank?

Surely this is something that we don't participate in and we can wash our hand of it, until the halftime ritual...or er...show features an artist who openly talks about how she is possessed by a fierce force, when performing on stage. The stage is laid out in a alter. The crowd is called to worship. The worship is given. The show ends and the lights go out for the correct amount of time. What happens in the dark? What have you reached your hand toward?  

Those priests, priestesses and slaves of the rites of the dark world, would tell you and have given witness to the fact that human sacrifices occur, they have performed them and they have sacrificed their own newborns in them. They do the deed. They have their in-crown and the places where they like to congregate. But they aren't invisible. They carry with them the darkness of their slavitude. The barometer drops when they walk into the room. 

Just as Samuel says, his brother's death will barely raise an eyebrow even to those who seek to fight injustice, those who were the human sacrifices in the Bohemian Grove and in the Superdome won't raise an eyebrow either. In fact, many would argue it didn't even happen. I think I mentioned, it would catch no body's attention.

Our house of cards, after all are the same, no matter which deck one uses. 

Samuel Zalanga  https://www.facebook.com/szalanga

NIGERIA AND THE PROBLEM OF EVIL: Late on the night of Sunday the 9th of March, 2014, some people around my hometown in Nigeria innocently attacked and BEHEADED my immediate younger brother and took away his head leaving the body headless. The group over-powered him, tied his hands with electric cables and used a sharp knife to slaughter him. Because the knife would not fully cut him, they used an ax to cut him off. This is gruesome and difficult to read, I know, but this is reality of Nigeria for me at this moment.

I got this news early on Monday morning after I returned from Antigua, Guatemala on Sunday evening where I had an excellent experience teaching “Sociology of Third World Development” to the students of my University. The students were very engaged and I left Guatemala feeling great about my experience with the students given the deep and penetrating questions they raised about Third World Development in spite of their relatively privileged social backgrounds. I did not know that in a few hours later, by about 5:30 a.m. on Monday, I would be awakened from sleep by persistent calls from Nigeria and be informed that my immediate younger brother was gruesomely killed.

To worsen things, I sent money immediately so that my family in Nigeria can get a befitting casket for his burial – a funeral without the head of the dead person! But on Tuesday, when my family went to get the corpse from the mortuary in Bauchi Teaching Hospital in Bauchi State Nigeria, the casket was stolen from the mortuary. One person, who went to pick the corpse of someone related to him, left his own casket which was not well-made and took the one made for my brother because it was better looking, to go and bury his own relative. The mortuary attendants were there but did not know anything. This gives the reader an idea of part of what it means to be human today in Nigeria. It is hard for me to understand what happened.

I am confident however simple answers like I should take it easy because God predestined that and God cares in this kind of situation become just like clichés. I say so because to make such statements means trying to make a claim about fully knowing the NATURE and even ESSENCE of God. It is not easy to be in my situation and to be simply told that God created a person in his image; he loves the person created, cares about the person and knows everything that will happen to the person, and yet allow someone to be slaughtered with a knife and ax. Frankly, it is hard to absorb this kind pontification and go to sleep when you are in my situation. It is better to say, one does not know and does not understand. My brother did nothing wrong to anyone. He was just innocently walking. But some Nigerians in pursuit of money and power decided to kill him to take away his head for ritual purposes. This is what Nigeria has become in the 21st century. My brother will not be the last. There are many innocent people across the country who will suffer such bestiality. Here are some thoughts for general reflection:

a) I grew up poor in a peasant family in Northeastern Nigeria. The group I come from is locally known as “Talakawas” i.e., the masses. But in spite of the pain of growing up poor, I remember the peace and respect for human dignity then. Unfortunately, on this note, Nigeria is not making progress but deteriorating and falling apart at an alarming pace. Yet the elites are self-absorbed in their own world.
b) What does it mean to be human? In many of my courses, I ask students to bring on the first day of classes, a statement explaining what it means to be human and what we owe each other for merely being human. We need to answer this question before we know someone’s religion, socioeconomic status, gender, race or nationality. Given the behavior or these hoodlums, what at the minimum do we need for someone to be human? I am an African and born and raised in Nigeria, but if the behavior of these people does not satisfy the minimum requirement of what it means to be human, and this kind of vicious acts increases as election year in Nigeria comes close, are people becoming more human or less human? Human bodies are like hardware. What the bodies are used for depend on the software loaded into them, in this case, sociologically: norms, values, ethics, and morality.
c) From 1960 to date, the two Abrahamic religions have expanded in Nigeria and penetrated different parts of the country’s culture. Indeed, religion is all over the place in Nigeria and on the surface of people’s consciousness. Some questions, however, need to be asked: given the multi-religious nature of Nigerian society, how many Muslims or Christians do we need in a society for that society to function very well? How many copies of the Bible and the Quran do we need in a society to make people “God fearing” as they would say? How many churches or mosques do we need in a society for that society to have respect for human dignity? How many pastors and imams do you need in a society before it can be fully instructed to observe and respect basic principles of human decency? How many times do people need to pray in a day, go to church or mosque in a day, swear with the name of God in a day before that society becomes God-fearing and respect human dignity?
d) To use as an example, Scandinavian countries are considered to be less religious (very secular) or even post-Christian. This notwithstanding, human dignity, rights and humanity are treasured and respected irrespective of one’s religion, ethnicity, socioeconomic status etc. Then compare the situation in Scandinavian countries with the situation in Nigeria, where religion is all over the place, but also, it is “no-where” to be impressively found in terms of how it shapes public affairs, discourses and respect of the least powerful and privilege. What is the status of religion in empirical terms with regard to a well-functioning society in this comparison? Is it just enough to be institutionally religious in a society while socially disorganizing and dehumanizing other people’s lives , while being satisfied that one has the complete truth and has salvation and will go to paradise? How can people be very religious but the empirical evidence suggests strongly that many areas of human life that are supposed to be directly impacted by the social ethics and morality of the religion or faith are not manifesting positive impact as a religious person would claim? Is religion just about rituals that have no bearing in how people related to their fellow human kind? Can a people claim to really fear God when such an ethic is not in any way reflected in the way they treat their fellow human being? My brother’s death compels me to ask these deep questions. They require more than Sunday school answers.
e) Given that Nigeria used not to manifest this kind of extreme and extravagant aggrandizement that leads to treating others as instruments for one’s selfish ends, how did Nigeria arrive at this juncture? Can Nigeria hope for the better by relying on high velocity prayers to bring about miracle? Or does the country need to think deeper given that no country in human history has achieved genuine and meaningful human development through a miracle?
f) Nigeria is a society that in the language of American sociologist Robert Merton, has “culturally approved goals” and “culturally approved means” of achieving the goals that are distorted and vitiated by centrifugal social forces. There is a fundamental confusion on the moral purpose of the Nigerian society. It is not clear what the goals of the country are and over the years there has been little care about strengthening the role of institutions that stabilize genuine and authentic human morality and ethics. Consequently, people have lost their bearing in pursuit of their egoistic interests and in doing so they have become a menace and threat to the future of human kind as represented in Nigeria, to use insights from French sociologist Emile Durkheim. Old stable ways have been destroyed, and new stable ones have not been instituted. For how long will this last.
g) The dysfunction of institutions is a major explanation of the spiral of Nigeria’s decline. Many see progress and development in Nigeria, but I am not impressed. Measuring development by the number of SUVs on the street, new buildings that are constructed, flamboyant weddings or clothing, sophisticated cell phones and technological devices etc. are not good enough. Forget about the aggregate statistics claiming success in economic growth in many African countries, the number of people converted from “paganism” or how many years Nigeria has lived since the country was amalgamated in 1914 by the British. Professor Dudley Seers, who was the one time director of the Institute of Development Studies at Sussex UK, says, the questions to ask about development are: what is happening to poverty, what is happening to unemployment and what is happening to inequality. If anyone of these indicators is increasing or remaining intact, the country is not developing irrespective of the level of growth recorded. The question is what sort of institutional arrangement in a country translates economic growth into genuine and real human development? Nigeria is a poor example for this. It is naïve to celebrate the new African middle class without asking: what are the moral and ethical moorings of that middle class? Simply because they are middle class does not mean they are automatically having the appropriate moral and ethical commitment that promotes a decent human society. What if the middle class is a repository of human aggrandizement, moral and ethical bankruptcy and decay because of the disease of consumerism and “affluenza”?
h) In spite of what happened to my brother, neither the local government in my state, the hospital where the casket was stolen nor the security agencies of the state would consider such a development a social problem that requires serious investigation. Even if there are persons interested in investigating, there is no political will to translate the findings into appropriate public action. Similarly, the authorities would not consider this situation a social problem that warrant the need for a serious reexamination of how the society is structured, institutions designed and social processes conducted to disorient human beings to acquire the incentive to behead someone and takeaway his or her head for the sake of ritual practice so that they can acquire money or win electoral politics. No society can make progress or guarantee human dignity without addressing the question of institutional design and functioning. Do even the Nigerian elites seriously care about this? It is now more than 50 years after independence.
i) The postcolonial state is an embarrassment to many Nigerians and many Africans. Many people celebrated the independence of Nigeria. I did not know the time but I heard the music that was used to celebrate that independence and on that basis imagined the joy of the people at that time. But apart from the civil war and many other ethnic / political conflicts the country had faced, the serious crisis the country is now facing is that of MORAL AND ETHICAL BANKKRUPCTY AND EMPTINESS. Quoting Cicero, Saint Augustine said that without justice in a society, the people become a gang of robbers in pursuit of what he called “Libido Dominandi” i.e, the lust to conquer under all circumstances as the Romans did during their time of conquest. The rich are getting richer, and the poor remain hopeless and often pushed to the wall to commit the kind of acts committed against my brother. As one person I called in Bauchi State (Nigeria) explained to me, the buyers of such human heads are known. And in one case, someone arrested said that they are paid five thousand Naira (Nigerian currency) for a human head, which is the equivalent of roughly less than $35. Sometimes they exhumed graves to cut the head of the dead person. Given all this, I am pretty confident that if there will be a referendum in Nigeria today, if it is not rigged, the majority of ordinary Nigerians who feel terribly disappointed with the postcolonial state and elite would not mind the British to return and run the country. The country is a blessing for a few at the expense of the majority. I do not want anyone to use religious language that can be appropriated as a cover to excuse the failure of Nigeria’s postcolonial state and ruling elites.
j) To be honest and frank, I cannot promise anyone that I can easily forgive and forget the murderers of my brother and indeed other innocently killed human beings. It is impossible for me now to really laugh. On Monday, I could not eat throughout the day and did not feel hungry. Only a strong compulsion to sleep makes me take a nap, otherwise what comes to my mind is the idea of attacking an innocent person on the road, tying him with cable and slaughtering him and taking away his head in order to use it for ritual purposes to acquire wealth or power. My major concern is the question of “meaning.” I was not born in the U.S. but I am pretty sure that if what happened to my brother would happen in Saint Paul, Minnesota (where I live), it would be a huge issue. And something will be done about it. This is not to say that the U.S. is a perfect society, but one must affirm the functioning of institutions which is the crucial issue here. I will still continue to maintain my commitment to the struggle for a more just society. But this is a turning point in my relationship with Nigeria. The act of killing my brother is a social problem and has to be understood as such, notwithstanding the persons that were directly responsible for that. Any attempt to explain the situation in Nigeria by simply relying on religious clichés would not in the long run change anything because there is no commensurate effort to translate the social ethics of the religions into human behavior and action. Religion is increasing, but the fear of God or public and private morality is declining. This does not add up. And one wonders what are even the social ethics of the religions given that there is no religion apart from those practicing it and if our empirical observation suggests those practicing the religions are not effective in transforming the society, then we have to ask: how many religious people do we need for a society to be well-functioning? I lament the sorry situation of Nigeria, and the moral bankruptcy of the elites which has percolated into the lower reaches of the social structure. Now I have every reason to study: “THE PROBLEM OF EVIL.”

Uganda Study Abroad: Visiting Mulago Hospital in Kampala

I continue my search for
suitable medical options in Uganda. I research and follow leads where I
encounter them.

Currently, I have insurance
through my work that has a Travel Assistance program. I requested information
about hospitals and ERs in the Kampala area. One, to see if how good the
referral program is. Two, to see whether I might have to travel to neighboring
Kenya for any medical attention, which would require the foresight of obtaining a
VISA.

Concurrently, my husband has
had need of accompanying his brothers to Mulago Hospital, which I’ve heard has a
terrible standard of care, even though it is the regional hospital, meaning it
is the best in the country. My husband was appalled at the squalor. The
emergency room was littered with garbage, dirty gloves, blood and grime. The
student doctors were carrying on, giggling and having fun with their cell
phones in the corner.

Above is the video of various
Americans’ assessment of the situation. Give thought to the fact that Stephen
likely saw the way it truly was and these white students were taken through
after a thorough scrubbing of the premises. 

When sub-zero weather is more than just a lot of cold.

I'm not sure how to begin telling tales about the most recent events. I’m not sure whether to say the most difficult part of the past month was the extreme cold, the car that wouldn’t start in the extreme cold, or the sickness that has worsened and hung on because of the extreme cold.

I’ve had bronchitis for the past 3 months. It’s been up and down. At times I’ve wondered if I should simply go on short term disability at my job because of the absolute dehabilitating symptoms and the other bugs I’ve caught while trying to battle this thing. I’ve gotten little more than the basic things accomplished at home: clean clothes most of the time, to work and to daycare, while trying to rest enough to do it all over again. But when the weather takes a dip like it has this past week everything goes to hell in a handbasket pretty quickly.

Tuesday was just such a day. It started off warm. But by the time I got to my car in the evening, it was too cold to start it. I had about 1 hour to pick up the twins at daycare after this discovery. So, I embraced my only available option: bus transportation. I got to the daycare in time to bundle them up in their boots and snowsuits, heading out the door to catch the bus back toward downtown. I was standing there with two toddlers under my arms, carrying them like firewood, when I spotted the 63 just a block away, as it prepared to breeze on past me because I was across the street from the bus stop, instead of standing there at it. Thankfully, the driver ascertained that I wished to get on and stopped while I hurried to cross the street and board. He held Gracie’s hand while I struggled to persuade Glory, that she did want to board with the rest of us, and wrangled the fare out of my purse.

The ride was warm but short compared to the 4 block walk we had ahead of us in the -10 degree cold. By the fourth block, the girls no longer wanted to walk and were crying in protest, saying, “Owie!” with snot running down their faces as we trudged into the wind. We waited at the 2^nd bus stop for a few minutes in front of the Burger King, trying to catch our breath, preparing for the next 4 blocks we had to walk. At this point it was 7 pm and very nearly their bedtime.

Then some African American lady in a junky van pulled up beside the bus stop and offered us a ride. I accepted gratefully, knowing it wouldn’t be too much trouble since we lived only 8 blocks away and that I had no idea how I was going to persuade these toddlers to walk into the wind for 4 more blocks. We got home and I thanked the lady profusely. The twins however, were too upset to be grateful. They screamed the entire time it took to heat their bottles of milk. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to feed them dinner because they were too upset and at least an hour beyond their dinner time, therefore bottles was the only option for sustenance. Gracie fell asleep from exhaustion, while I snuggled with them both in an attempt to soothe them. They didn’t seem to mind the coughing fit I was having as a result of the exposure.

After I got them to bed, my sister helped me go out and rescue my car from the bus stop I’d left it at. It started but I decided I’d park in on the hill beside the house because I knew it wouldn’t start in the morning if the cold lingered. My plan was to start it by rolling it down the hill and popping the clutch the next morning. However, the next morning, that plan failed and I was back to bundling up the girls and again walking to the bus stop in an attempt to get to daycare and work on a day when the state had closed all public schools so that kids much older than my own could avoid the very scenario we were in. Thankfully, we were intercepted at block 4 by a good Samaritan who offered to drive us to daycare. Again, the twins were inconsolable by the time we got to daycare. And I was having another coughing fit.

It seems the worse the cold the worse all situations. My health. Their well-being and positive disposition. My transportation and lack there-of being directly proportional to how low the thermometer dips in a day.

Life continues. And it revolves solely around getting to daycare, work and back home then sleep, forget the eating, then there’s the waking up and doing it all over again with belabored effort. I absolutely would not have survived this past month had I remained at my previous job in Minneapolis. I’m so grateful I have the job I currently have and that it is a permanent hire. I’m certain I’d have been dismissed if this wasn’t a permanent hire and if the commute was more lengthy, making it a nearly impossible feat for a car-less single mom on days with sub-zero weather.

A virtual Christmas with Daddy.

So, this was Christmas with Daddy on Skype. We opened presents and played while Daddy watched.

Sick and cold

Today, I’m at work and I feel just terrible. I am trying to keep the cough down but the bronchitis is not going away despite all the medicine. I’m on prednisone and cough suppressant. The cough medicine shouldn't be used beyond 24 hours but I’ve been taking it since last Wednesday. I feel completely loopy and almost unable to concentrate.

The terrible weather has added to my current misery. Any time I have to go outside I cough till my sides ache and my head feels like it will explode. But I have to go outside. I have to go to work and now that the temps have hit the -20 F range at night my car won’t start and I have to spend even more time outside. At first it helped to put the battery charger on the car, giving it some extra incentive to start. However, at -20, it’s a lost cause. So I’ve resorted to taking the bus. I take it in to work anyway after I drive the girls to daycare. However, now today, I will have to get the girls from daycare and put them on the bus, while it is 0 F outside. I don’t think they will do too well with that. They don't like the cold. They cry when they have to walk in the cold for even short distances. How to do it, kept me awake last night. And I rarely worry about small things. There is the 2 blocks I will try to persuade them to walk in the cold, from daycare to the bus stop. Then I have to get them off to walk 2 blocks to another stop, in order to ride for 2 more blocks then get off and walk for 3 more blocks before arriving home.

I'm worried that perhaps I'll have a coughing spell and pass out on the sidewalk, while two little girls stand and look at me. Perhaps, it will be too cold for them. News has been warning people of frostbite to any skin exposed for 15 minutes.

Today, I wish I could just stay home.