Up a Creek without a ...

I have just finished cleaning myself up after our Earth Day contribution.  Our family participated in a local creek clean-up.  After a few years and several volunteer groups, I am happy to report that our section of Doan Brook was looking pretty good.  I did run into a small problem however when my 9 year old son urgently needed a toilet.  We popped up out of the creek gorge in our bright yellow worker's vests carrying bags of filthy garbage on a major road in Cleveland with not a clue where we should look for a public facility.  Luckily, I saw two men leaving their house and so we ran across the boulevard and asked to use their toilet.  They looked more than a little surprised but did not hesitate to let us in.  It made me wonder: if two strangers showed up at our door and asked to use the bathroom under what conditions would I be willing to return the favor?

On the way back I started thinking about public toilets in urban areas.  They used to be more common but now they are very rare.  I know that I always see signs in the city saying "You can't use our toilet unless you are a paying customer."  It makes me wonder where are homeless people supposed to use the bathroom.  People always complain about the smell in parking garages and so forth, but really, what are the options?

My son and I hurried back down into the ravine to catch up with our group.  Unfortunately, I missed a step while crossing the stream and got a full bath.  It was at that moment it occurred to me where the homeless might be going to relieve themselves.

I found this lovely synchronicity in my inbox when we got home.  It is from someone who knows that I have written about the lack of sanitation in third world countries before.   They asked if I would post it.



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Happy Earth day Everyone!  I hope you found and excellent way to celebrate.

Froggy Synchronicity

My friend, Jan, wanted to have a good-bye drink with me but it took us weeks to find a day that I was home and not too busy with my work or my family. Last night she came to pick me up at about 9:00 pm to take me out for a drink. We had decided to go to a bar in a little village about 15 minutes from the farm. Halfway down our quarter mile driveway, I saw a frog leap in front of the car. Jan said, "Did you see that frog?"

"Did you hit it?" I replied.

"No, I saw it hop away," she said.

We continued on way, but the closer we got to the little town the more repulsive the air became. It was an overpowering stench. There is a chicken processing plant in the town, and when they render the chicken fat of a thousand chickens and open the vents on a humid summer night, the smell is something like urine and rot. We decided to head further down the road to the next little village.

There were two bars in this second village. The first had no cars, so we didn't stop there. At the second bar, we walked to the door and peeked in. A rush of cigarette smoke curled out of the door and settled thickly about our hair. A cardboard sign written in crayon and taped to the door warned, "This is a smoking bar." A dozen grizzly men shifted nothing but their eyes in our direction... "Nah," we said together, and returned to the car.

Back in the car, I had been telling my friend about this blog, 'Synchronicity,' and about the Edgar Allen Poe synchronicity, which I thought was a wonderful gruesome story. My friend, who is a psychic, was fascinated. She has dreams of murders and has helped police to find the criminals. She also has a blog, but isn't quite ready to devote much time to it. She says that she will soon. "I had another murder dream recently," she told me, "I called the police but they didn't pay much attention to me."

About that time we arrived at another little bar. This one had 3 tables of men and women happily playing poker and no smoke, so we went in. I know that Jan told me where we were, some hollow, but I wasn't paying attention. We drank and told stories for about an hour. Jan kept writing post-it notes for me and stuck them in my pockets so that I would remember to write down the stories on my blog.

Up on the kitchen door behind the bar there was a snack menu with 'Froggy Balls' as a featured item. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I knew that Jan didn't want them so I resisted. About 5 minutes before the kitchen closed, I had to try some froggy balls. They were wonderful, deep fried cheese, chicken and jalapeno, no frogs. I ate them all. As I was munching away, I overheard someone talking about Frog's Hollow. That's it, that's where we were. Of course, they would have 'Froggy Balls' in Frog's Hollow.

I had a blast with Jan. That was the first time I've been out to a bar in more than two years. Jan returned me home safely and not too late.

Today, I took a walk down the driveway with my husband. He pointed out a dried smashed frog carcass and then the synchronicity struck me. I had forgotten all about the frog crossing our path when we went in search of a place to say goodbye.

*Note: Tibetans consider frogs repositories of sacred wisdom.