International Women’s Day – March 8th

The world is moving towards legal gender equality — but it’s moving very, very slowly.

“Only six countries currently give women and men equal rights, a major report from the World Bank has found.
Belgium, Denmark, France, Latvia, Luxembourg and Sweden scored full marks of 100 in the bank’s “Women, Business and the Law 2019” report.”
  • The United States scored 83.75, placing it outside the global top 50.
  • The United Kingdom achieved a score of 97.5
  • Australia scored 96.88
  • Germany measured at 91.88

“The rate of progress means that, by CNN calculations, women won’t achieve full equality

in the areas studied by the World Bank until 2073.”

But countries in the Middle East and Sub-Saharan Africa averaged a score of 47.37, meaning the typical nation in those regions gives women under half the legal rights of men in the areas measured by the group.
“The study aimed to “develop a better understanding of how women’s employment and entrepreneurship are affected by legal discrimination,” highlighting “how women must navigate discriminatory laws and regulations at every point in their careers, limiting their equality of opportunity.” It did not measure social and cultural factors, or how effectively laws were enforced.”
The criteria analyzed were:
  • going places
  • starting a job
  • getting paid
  • getting married
  • having children
  • running a business
  • managing assets
  • getting a pension
(Those were broken down into questions such as: “Can a woman travel outside her home in the same way as a man?” and “Is there legislation specifically address domestic violence?”)
Overall, the global average came in at 74.71 — an increase of more than four and a half points compared to a decade ago. But the score indicates that in the average nation, women receive just three-quarters of the legal rights that men do.
“If women have equal opportunities to reach their full potential, the world would not only be fairer, it would be more prosperous as well,” World Bank Group Interim President Kristalina Georgieva said.
“Change is happening, but not fast enough, and 2.7 billion women are still legally barred from having the same choice of jobs as men.”

In 1977, the United Nations General Assembly invited member states to proclaim March 8 as the UNDay for women’s rights and world peace.

Internationally, purple is a colour for symbolising women. Historically the combination of purple, green and white to symbolise women’s equality originated from the Women’s Social and Political Union in the UK in 1908. Purple signifies justice and dignity. Green symbolises hope. (White represents purity, but is no longer used due to ‘purity’ being a controversial concept.)

The 2019 #BalanceforBetter campaign runs all year long. It doesn’t end on International Women’s Day.

The campaign theme provides a unified direction to guide and galvanize continuous collective action, with #BalanceforBetter activity reinforced and amplified all year.

https://www.internationalwomensday.com/About

Frankly Freddie, to the Human Rescue – Dogs of Blogs, Day 22

Dear Freddie Fans,

My human editors P&J have been derelict in their assignment to post a dog-a-day for the Dogs of Blogs*.  Being ever the resourceful roving reporter I am helping them getting a leg-up in their well-intentioned endeavor . . .  22 days worth of dogs.

The Sarasota Dog Walkers walk large squads of dogs during their midday pack program. At the end of each walk, a group photo is taken.

Not Freddie

*Jessica SORTING LIFE’S ISSUES WITH JESS.  She is hosting Dogs of Blogs

Freddie’s Dogs of Blogs Posts:

Dogs of Blogs – Day 2-1/2

Doggone Well Done Dogs – Day 1

Sneek Peek into Judy’s Sketchy Life – NAKED NUDE DUDE

Copy writers have always known “headlines” grab your attention.  Disasters, murder and mayhem seem to garner a lot of attention.  Fortunately we have not experienced much mayhem, no murder and our disasters are rather mundane.  The only thing left to get you to click on our blog posts are Judy’s nudes.

Charcoal, 10 minute sketches

My nudes are a bit miffed they don’t get the same attention . . .

Peggy

 

Dogs of Blogs, Frankly Freddie – Doggone Well Done Dogs

Dear Freddie Fans,

Peggy & Judy (who I shall refer to as P&J to minimize typing paw pressure) just started a series called Well Done Women.  I have no problem  recognizing women . . . but it is a bit sexist of them to exclude males, of which I am one.  This post hopefully will remedy P&J’s over-sight, not to mention their reputation.

What’s a “Doggone Well Done Dog”?

  • She or HE has weathered years of human’s life experience.
  • She or HE has navigated changes – whether by choice, chance or necessity – and continues to adapt to human idiosyncrasy.
  • She or HE contributes to the world by caring for humans, both female and male.
  • She or HE is curious and open to having new tasting experiences.

My first DOGGONE WELL DONE DOG is Freddie Parker Westerfield

Freddie Parker Westerfield, CCT, RET. (Certified Canine Therapist)

After spending decades (in dog-years) as a psychotherapist in private practice, Freddie has not rested in retirement. He is a  Certified Human Trainer, Editor-in-Cainine for Freddie’s KNEWSletter, intrepid roving reporter and columnist for MAXyourMIND & CURIOUStotheMAX.

Here is one of Freddie’s intrepid reporter posts which reflects his unflagging attempts to help humans.  To read it in its entirety  click on the title:

Frankly Freddie – SIT!

I’m a sit expert and here to teach you how to stop sitting like a nut (literally and probably figuratively) . . . a cashew nut, and sit like me.

My human authority is Naomi Khan who knows what she’s talking about cuz she’s a spine surgeon.  She told me that most humans tend to round out their backs when they sit.  When your spine is in an improper position you’ll tend to have more back problems.  Listen to me!

Sitting like a cashew nut can damage the disks in your spine that act like little shock absorbers. This can cause the disks to degenerate, or for one side to bulge.  It can push against nerves, causing pain, or even rupture.  Ouch!

You can protect your disks by straightening the cashew.

Butt out!

Jean Sherer (another of my authorities) says your culture focuses on trying to stick out your chest (which might make you think you’re important) but doesn’t help your back.  Stop sticking your chest out and change the position of your pelvis, or butt.

“Sit up straight,” doesn’t mean to stick your chest out. Instead, stick your “tail” out, like me.

Proper sitting, head up, tail out.

Freddie Parker Westerfield, S.E.E.

Sit Expert Extraordinaire

DOGGONE WELL DONE, FREDDIE, DOGGONE WELL DONE

P.S. I found an equal-opportunity,  non-discriminating blogger, Jessica SORTING LIFE’S ISSUES WITH JESS. 

She is hosting Dogs of Blogs, of which I am one.

FPW

Freddie’s Dogs of Blogs Posts:

Dogs of Blogs – Day 2-1/2

Doggone Well Done Dogs – Day 1

A Well Done Woman- Sharon Bonin-Pratt

Hawaiian Baby Doll

We lived in Paradise. Tripler Army Hospital base housing for married officers in Honolulu, Hawaii, to be exact. Our home was an apartment in side by side units that had been converted from the original wooden hospital wards before the iconic pink hospital was built. Opposite our row of housing was a mirror image of the same, separated by a strip of lawn bisected by a row of palm trees. That lawn was my playground, mine and all the other kids who lived there with our physician and officer families.

Although Hawaii is famous for its cooling trade winds and daily tropical showers, I don’t remember either. I was four in the early 1950s, my day marked by playing outside. We were safe, we were free to play. After breakfast all the kids zipped around the lawn, back and forth between houses, going home only for lunch, then dinner as the orange orb of sun settled in for the night and cast Moanalua Ridge in balmy darkness.

I learned to ride a tricycle and to fly a kite, to string tiny koa seeds into leis, and to dance hula. I tasted both cotton candy and snow cones for the first time. Each was culinary magic, one a sugary pink cloud brought to earth on a paper cone, the other a paper cone of turquoise and pink sugared ice served on an island where it never snowed. Both are still favorite treats. Most days I wore a yellow or red hibiscus blossom in my hair, plucked from one of the nearby bushes, and carried lantana clusters, each a miniature pinwheel bouquet.

I didn’t have a baby doll. I wanted one desperately but we were poor, a concept I understood as meaning not enough money to buy a doll. A grotesque cloth clown and an ugly sock monkey, both discarded by other kids, substituted for the baby doll I wanted to rock in my arms.

I did have Pudd.

Pudd, pronounced like the first part of the word pudding, was the baby girl born to the couple who lived across the lawn from us. I visited her every day, politely knocking on the door until Pudd’s mother, Mrs. Dalton, welcomed me inside.

Renaissance beautiful with satiny pink skin and enormous blue eyes, Pudd remained smiley and sweet-natured. She rarely cried. She wriggled her hands and feet but never tried to turn over. She kept silent as if concentrating on music in her own heart. She grasped my hand, making it seem like a giant’s, and she grinned and bubbled when I sang “Twinkle Star” and “My Little Grass Shack.” If I got the words wrong, Pudd never complained.

Mrs. Dalton lifted Pudd gently, holding her head carefully. She spoke in dulcet tones to her daughter as loud voices startled Pudd and caused her to jerk in fright. Pudd and her mother were great training for big sisters-to-be, a good thing as my mom would soon present our family with a sibling for me. I was ready for the baby doll coming to our home.

I never stayed long when Pudd needed a nap or it was time for Mrs. Dalton to feed her, acts I wasn’t allowed to witness. Giving Pudd a kiss on her forehead but never on her lips or the top of her head on her fragile fontanel, I said good bye until the next day, and danced down the steps to the lawn.

One afternoon my mom told me I couldn’t visit Pudd, her tearful eyes warning me not to go over to the Dalton’s house. I pestered my mom about why I couldn’t visit until she said, “They’re giving Pudd her last bath.”

My brother was born only a week or so after I’d been forbidden to bother Mrs. Dalton on the afternoon of Pudd’s last bath. I didn’t see Pudd again as I had my own baby doll to watch over and sing to. We left Hawaii a few months after my brother was born, eventually settling in Trenton, New Jersey.

Seven years later we drove to the Midwest to visit the Daltons who now had three kids like us. Only they weren’t at all like us.

The last bath hadn’t been the last one after all. Pudd’s real name was Edwina, a fact my parents revealed on the drive. Her parents had to teach it to her before she started school. The Daltons had been planning to give up Pudd to an institution but changed their mind and moved to a state that had the best school in the country for children like Pudd. Children born with hydrocephalus – water on the brain. It’s a misnomer for a defect that allows excess spinal fluid to collect around the brain and spinal cord, causing the head to swell and a myriad of developmental problems. Though Pudd’s life had been saved shortly after birth with a shunt to drain the fluid, the damage had been done.

My parents tried to prepare me to meet the Pudd who was now almost eight years old. But nothing could have prepared me. She was still incredibly beautiful, with golden ringlets and satiny pink skin. She wore thick glasses and leg braces from ankle to thigh. She could neither sit nor stand without assistance though she had learned to take a few clumsy steps. I talked to her about school, art projects, and TV shows, as I would with any friend. Her speech was nearly impossible to understand and I realized she had limited mental abilities. She wasn’t the perfect baby I’d sung to in Hawaii, but she smiled with radiant warmth as if she remembered me.  I squelched my tears.

At bedtime her parents undertook an elaborate ritual to prop Pudd between half a dozen pillows to hold her body still so she could sleep without convulsions, without breaking one of her fragile legs or arms. They would wake to check on her twice during the night. We didn’t stay longer than that one day’s visit and I never saw nor heard about Pudd again. I don’t know if she is still alive though it’s unlikely.

Pudd suffered an unimaginable, freak injury that can be ameliorated today with advanced medical technology, but her life wasn’t a lesson for all the rest of us to digest. Her fate was unfair. Knowing Pudd helped me develop a sense of compassion for people with disabilities but it wasn’t why she was put on earth. She wasn’t born to be a model for research, though her life was an example to her doctors and teachers. I don’t know why there is a magnitude of injustice in the world. Paradise doesn’t exist if one person hurts. I do know I can make someone feel that they are loved.

I love you, Pudd, wherever you are. You will always be my sweet Hawaiian baby doll.

_________________________

Eye My View – Birds of a Feather

Did you know that Egrets are carnivores and have sibling rivalry . . . to the extreme?

They snare prey by walking slowly or standing still for long periods, waiting for an animal to come within range of their long necks and blade-like bills. The deathblow is delivered with a quick thrust of the sharp bill, and the prey is swallowed whole.

Fish are a dietary staple, but great egrets use similar techniques to eat amphibians, reptiles, snakes, mice, and other small animals.

Great egrets are found near water, salt or fresh, and feed in wetlands, streams, ponds, tidal flats, and other areas.

  I found these at the San Diego Zoo.

This long-legged, S-necked white bird is found throughout the Americas and around much of the world. It is typically the largest white egret occurring anywhere in its range (only the white-colored form of the great blue heron is larger).

These birds nest in trees, near water and gather in groups called colonies, which may include other heron or egret species. They are monogamous, and both parents incubate their three to four eggs. Young egrets are aggressive towards one another in the nest, and stronger siblings often kill their weaker kin so that not all survive to fledge in two to three weeks.

The great egret is the symbol of the National Audubon Society and represents a conservation success story. The snowy white bird’s beautiful plumage made it far too popular in 19th-century North America. Great egrets were decimated by plume hunters who supplied purveyors of the latest ladies’ fashions. Their populations plunged by some 95 percent. Today the outlook is much brighter. The birds have enjoyed legal protection over the last century, and their numbers have increased substantially.

Peggy