Chiang Mai chicken farmer

Nancy Thompsen Sherwood

October 30 at 2:56 PM · 

A memory from a long time ago. By Nancy Nancy Thompsen Sherwood.

We lived in Chiang Mai, Thailand from 1981-1983. The house we lived in was at the end of a gravel road. Looking out the front gate, to the left was the gravel road (often with teams of wild dogs), to the right was an overgrown area that I referred to as "the jungle". Straight across the road was a dark wooden fence. There was a chicken farm behind that fence. We couldn't see the house or whatever else was behind the fence, but we heard the roosters calling in the morning and the chickens clucking all day. And when the wind was just "right" , we could smell the chicken farm.

One afternoon I heard gun fire in the road in font of our house. When the shooting stopped, I went to investigate.

We had a gardener and house maid (husband and wife). The story, as they related it was: A naked man came running out of the gate at the chicken farm. The naked man was followed by the farmer's wife- in a night gown. Then the farmer, with his gun.

I worried for weeks about that naked man who ran into the jungle. I worried that the naked man would take some of our clothes from our clothes line.

Of course we didn't lose any clothes. We never saw the naked man again. Almost 40 years have passed and I still get a chuckle thinking about it!

Story of New Years Eve in Tromso

This is (probably) my last story for 2018.
In 1984 we moved to Tromso, Norway, which is about 220 miles north of the Arctic Circle. Being that far north means 24 hours of sunlight- the Midnight Sun- and 24 hours of dark in the winter Morke Tid- "Dark Time" It's is difficult for the newcomer to adjust to the short days of winter. The days get shorter and shorter until the sun sets and is below the horizon for two full months. At the end of my writing I will share a few pictures.

In the dark time, there is usually snow and that really brightens everything up. The lights in the houses make a cozy glow against the snow.

The winter of 1984 was an exception. There had been snow of course, starting in late September. But it would melt away and more would fall. In 1984 there was so little snow on the ground it was referred to as a "black Christmas". The New Year's Eve tradition in Tromso is to light big oil barrels "spelling" out the new year date, and people shoot fireworks from their homes. The oil barrels were to spell "1985". With the lack of snow it was considered too dangerous to light the barrels due to a risk of causing a big forest fire.

Everyone was disappointed at the possibility of not having a traditional New Years celebration.

Then, on the afternoon of December 31, 1984, it started to snow. The barrels were light and 1985 was ushered in with cheers and fireworks!

the pictures are, the sun setting at 2:00 in the afternoon, in November. A summer picture of the mountain where the oil barrels are lit up, the oil barrels spelling out "1985" and the sunrise in January 1985. The sun was only over the horizon for less than 5 minutes that day. If you click the fireworks picture and make it bigger you should be able to make out the numbers

Story about a 15 year old girl written 11/1/18

Nancy Thompsen Sherwood

September 26 · 

a true story by me: Nancy Thompsen Sherwood

There was a 15 year old girl who met a neat older guy. She didn't think about the age difference. He had his own apartment and she went there to smoke marijuana with him and they also "slept" together.

The guy asked the girl if she could get some marijuana for him to buy from her. She said sure. And she did. And they smoked it together.

Then one day he asked her if she could get LSD to sell
to him. She had never done anything like that before, but she said she'd try. Her mom was a single mother and there was no extra money for Christmas coming up. So the girl saw this as a good way to make a little money.

A little while later, an arrest warrant was issued on the girl for selling LSD. The guy turns out to have been a narcotics agent. He thought the girl was over 18- hence would be arrested as an adult.

The girl was arrested. While she was being "processed" at the police station, the "guy" walked by. The girl said "hi" to the guy who pretended not to see her. The police were surprised to learn that the girl was a minor. Still, she was under arrest.

She went to a children's jail (Children's Receiving Center). She was admitted, strip searched and had all of her belongings taken away. She was given a choice of clothing from a big box. She spend the most frightening weekend of her like locked up with girls who were there because they had killed someone, or committed other serious crimes.

The girl never, ever told her parents that she had been having sex with the guy. Never. She never told the police either.

The girl went t court in a prison bus and after going before the judge was released to her mother.

There were delays and continuances for almost a year. The girl was afraid she would be convicted.

Eventually, the police said that the "guy" had been transferred. The girl is sure that the reason the case was dropped was that the police realized that the arresting officer had been having sex with a minor.

So, it's true. Many girls and women never ever tell. Even after years and years.

The end

No means no

Nancy Thompsen Sherwood

September 26 · 

This is no solution, but, I do believe that parents need to teach their kids, boys and girls, that No is NO. No matter what. If someone says no, even a sibling not wanting to share a toy. I told all of my kids "no is no"

Who remembers the first time you voted? I do. I was 18 and newly married. It was 1972. I went into a voting booth and pulled a lever that closed the curtain behind me. I flipped a bunch of switches for each item on the ballot. When I was done, I pulled the lever the other way, all of the switches went back to neutral and the curtains opened. And I walked away very proud, and a little bit worried that I might have voted for Nixon by mistake.

Nancy Thompsen Sherwood

September 21 · 

Another True Story by Nancy Sherwood:
I went to a small private school in Washington, D.C. One day the boys were playing a pick up game of basketball in the basketball court. I wanted to play and they said "no girls". I went to the headmaster and told him that I paid as much tuition as the boys and I should have the same privileges.

The headmaster suggested I call the National Organization for Women (NOW). I did call them. They sent a speaker to our school.

We had an assembly and everyone learned that we all should be equal.

After that, the girls and the boys could play basketball, or other sports if they wanted to. Me, I preferred flag football.

September 20 · 

I am not a young Black man, but I am afraid of the police. I am a white, gray haired 64 year old woman. I cannot stand without a cane. I have a fear that I will get pulled over and told to get out of the car. I can either get out of the car, holding on so I don't fall- then I will be thought to be drunk. Or, I can reach for my cane which can be thought to be a weapon. I don't have disability tags, but use a tag that hangs down from my mirror when I park.

What has happened to my trust? Why are we at this place?