Holding On to the Center

I think that the one thing I search for as I age and find I actually have time to think  and search is the "Center  aka Balance."  I look for that middle ground where everything can clearly be seen, where, if I stand straight and tall with my arms out wide, I feel in complete and peaceful balance.  That place, where, if I stare straight ahead, I can see into those loving eyes of my family and read their minds and accept what is revealed...changes and all.  That place where I know I am home and there is nothing hidden or unknown that can take me by surprise.  That place that is safe and pure and honest and where I am not looking over my shoulder at the mess that is catching up with me, or the old age that is catching up with me, or that bundle of guilt that I keep in a dark locked trunk behind the shed door...the bundle that shows how much time in my life I have wasted and all the mistakes I have made.  It is that place where the future is only obvious change and not unnecessary challenge.

Truly retired means there are no longer any excuses for not being in the Center of your life.  Even if you are fighting a serious disease or supporting the fight of a medical challenge of a loved one...you finally have some time for concentrating on the Center.  Actually you must dedicate time to remain in the Center or you are of no use to anyone off-center.  In retirement there is no longer a career or children to pull me off-Center.  I always admire those people who find the gift in everything that happens to them.  Not the sugary frosting top bow...but the solid center gift of what happens to them and with a gentle sigh they can see and accept that it happened and realize it is there to make them pause and to grow to become more solid and able to fit in between it all.

On a graph sent to me by my financial adviser (yep, I do have one of those) the Center is that place in the middle of the graph where the Y and X meet.  This magic happens between the far flung four corners on this graph which are labeled Lower Risk-Higher Return, Higher Risk-Higher Return, Lower Risk-Lower Return and finally Higher Risk/Lower Return.  The only honest place and sure thing on this graph is Lower Risk-Lower Return.  The most attractive place is Higher Risk-Higher Return but there is not much air in this corner of the graph whether representing financial life or daily living and it is a place you cannot stay long but probably should visit briefly for the thrill every once in a while.  (It is funny how this graph replicates life.)

I live in a culture of excess with lots of glittery lights and magnificent smells, and addictive sounds and therefore, trying to find the Center with the coals warm glow and to remain balanced as I am made stronger by fire is a daily challenge.  It is like yoga and meditation...a most peaceful and rewarding place that allows you to forget about all the corners of your world, past and present, but it takes lots of work to get there and to remain there and most of all to just let go of the idea that you must be on a path to somewhere else.  The only place I must be is right here and right now.

Essential Things You May Have Missed Out On

It amuses and amazes me everyday how I have become that old person who looks back on life and wondered how I ever got through it without all the aids, gadgets, networks that are available today.

I raised two delightful and complicated children back then.  We did not have seat belts in cars and my friends who smoked were allowed to smoke while we went somewhere.  Miraculously my children survived both these dangers.  I unknowingly fed them foods in containers lined with carcinogenic plastics or probably sprayed with dangerous pesticides.  School lunches included the vegetable ketchup to balance the repast.  Abandoned refrigerators and mean dogs were the greatest fear in neighborhoods.

Because I am a technologically savvy grandma, I purchase gifts from my grandchildren via that new magical mall, the Internet.  These companies then automatically assume I need paper versions of their inventory as well and my mail box begins to regurgitate colored catalogs of items beyond my wildest dreams.

There are gates and locks and containers that even an enterprising raccoon would have difficulty surmounting.  Children now have their own luggage when they travel, and sunglasses and helmets when they are out riding in that dangerous but very comfortable stroller.  With the added cup-holder and side music speakers, as Fran Lebowitz says, they are never leaving that stroller.

In the latest version of one of these missives offering "thoughtfully selected products," I have the opportunity to purchase a Potty Watch that alerts small children with lights and music to remind them to go to the bathroom at preset intervals...I cannot help but think of a child who would become dependent on this and could not go to the bathroom without the alarm...you know, that idiot CEO at the board meeting!  I could buy a pillow that supports good posture in small children when they sleep...unless they sleep sideways across the bed as does my grandson #1 or with the pillow over their head as does my granddaughter.

There is even a strange device that one uses to remove mucus from the noses of little ones who have not mastered the art of blowing.  The mother puts it against the child's nostrils and then puts a little plastic tube in her mouth and proceeds to suck on the tube.  The text assures us that the mucus goes into a tissue and not the mother's mouth.  It still looks very unsettling in the photo (above) of mother and child using it.  The real clincher is that the publisher claims it has been used by European parents for years.  (They probably write in the European version that it has been used by North American parents for years.)

How did our baby "animals" survive without this stuff?  What new wonders will be available to my grandchildren when they begin to raise their little ones?  All of these do not belay the real dangers of global climate change, air pollution, water pollution, crime, drugs and daily stress that our little ones have to battle.

Hummingbird Moth

(I was supposed to post this on MY OTHER blog...but got mixed up and am too lazy to move all the html code...so here it is!)

This is Hemaris thysbe (at least I think that is what is is) commonly known as the Hummingbird moth.  Got these photos while he was hanging out at the dianthus pot on the back of my deck.  They turned out nicely, so, of course, I had to share even if in reduced pixel size!

There is not much known about this moth, except one site said the scientific name was based on the Pyramus and Thisbe  love story where Pyramus finds Thisbe's blood stained scarf assuming she had been killed and thus impales himself with his own sword.  The Hemaris part is based on "Haemorrhagia as a reference to blood-like coloration" 

I also found this quote  "The courtship behavior of hawk moths is very complex. It often involes pheromones, love songs and aerobatic flights. This type of behavior has been noted in the cream-lined hawk moth from Asia, and is currently being studied in the North American species. However, many different hawk moths, such as the ocellate hawk moth, also found in Asia, do not have these behaviors. Rather, they tend to have broader wings and fly more clumsily. They have no tongues, do not feed as adults, and show little courtship behaviour. (Kitching, 1999)"

I see this often in the summer and sometimes people think they are a stinging insect because of their size...not so.

Did You Disappear?

Several people commented in posts and even commented on my blog comments on the recent two-day outage of Blogger...although Blogger did not admit they were out of whack for that long because you could read what had been published in a prior time.  I had been pretty busy away from the computer during that time and only noticed at the very end when I was trying to check my posts.

It was a little frustrating for me not being able to post anything or read anything new, but because I am easily distracted  I moved on to something else. 

Some of you wrote that you felt as if you had been cut off from communication with an important side of the world.  I began to wonder if I would have felt the same if it had been a rainy or cold day where I was stuck at home with nothing to do.  If I had time to reflect, I am sure that I would have been a little panicked at not being able to get in touch with readers of my blog.  What if Blogger had gone down permanently?  I am sure they have back-up servers to return to a prior time...but what if?

Peruby has a disaster recovery plan idea which she wrote about.  I never thought about a back-up plan for a hobby, but that is an interesting thought.  How did you feel about all this?  Do you have a back-up plan?

Huh?

Our Master Gardeners are having their big plant sale this weekend and I have been very busy labeling and transporting small and large potted plants, building (!) plant benches and identifying plants. Earlier in the week I spent several days with my daughter helping with three little ones as her husband was on a week of travel.  She was nursing a cold on top of everything else....so, if you will excuse me, I really think I need a nap right now...then I will do research on this Blogger issue.

Bloody Murder at Tabor's Yard

(This is a warning that the following post may contain content too violent for children or adults with a sensitive nature, and no, Tabor did not kill her husband.)

It was a dark and stormy night...no, actually it was the middle of a sunny afternoon.  There were ominous shadows flitting through the trees...no, it was a beautiful spring breeze rustling the new growth and that is what tricked me, that made me oblivious to what was to come.  There were an unusual number of blackbirds flying back and forth across the lawn.  Thats lends a little ominousness to the mood...doesn't it?  There was also the sinister buzz of black flies in the air...the type found in any Stephen King soundtrack.

I had just emptied my overcrowded dish of plant succulents, finished their re-planting and was heading down my driveway to obtain some soil to mix with the sand.  As I walked I noticed ever so superficially something bright red on the driveway pavement...a lovely rose petal, perhaps?  I continued my saunter under the large leaning tulip poplar that will one day fall across this driveway and kill someone.

Then, without warning, I felt something wet fall onto the outside of my hand just below my watch band.  Rain released from a tree leaf?  I looked down and saw wet, red blood!  A nice juicy spray of drops across the back of my hand to the base of my thumb.  I looked up and saw the tulip tree leaves winking at me and nothing else.  I looked back down at my hand and quickly wiped away the blood on my muddy jeans, and that was when I saw body parts scattered across the pavement!  Truly a CSI moment.

Here's looking at you!

I backed up a yard or two and again tilted my neck to look into the tree.  Many of you have already guessed what I saw.

He was not going to interrupt his casual lunch of shad just because I was doing yard work!  Today I learned that osprey do not eat the eyeballs, and now I wonder why not?  And I realized how much they fertilize the earth when they eat... if not eating over a paved driveway, that is!  The ants were soon having a picnic, though.

And at least it was not bird poop that fell from the sky on me....

The Other Mother

Today's post is to honor those mothers who have lost children through disease, war, or accidents of life's decisions.  Today is a most difficult day for you to get through because it is the deep reminder of that river of pain you swim through each and every day as that child is no longer a part of your life.  Or perhaps, that child has disappeared into a dark alley of the world somewhere and while you think of them often, today their presence hangs most heavily on your heart as you wonder what has become of them.  Your memories of their face are static in time and do not console you.

Today I place a virtual hand on your shoulder and another across your heart and I lay my head on your shoulder as I try to understand your pain and wish you some peace.

Home is Where They Have to Take You In

To those who actually care, and with such loving surprise to me, some of you do...

Hubby is home! Safe and sound.

How do I know, other than I drove the hour and half to pick him up, waited an extra 30 minutes for him to clear customs, and managed to find my way out of the cell phone parking lot to the arrival area on time?

I know because even though he was tremendously jet-lagged he let me stop at the HUGE landscape place on the way back from the airport to buy $80 worth of plants and actually pushed (drug) the cart all over the cobbled paths for me.

I know because this morning there are shoes left under the breakfast table and a bill cap hat on the floor next to his chair. I know because I see the $300 binoculars left out overnight in the rain on the deck table (they survived nicely).   I know because he is not hungry at dinner but is hungry at midnight and I hear him rustling up some cereal in the kitchen and then watching CNN. I know because he is jealous(!) I hired a yard service for the next month. I know because his favorite teapot is now always on the counter.

I know because we spent 30 minutes yesterday afternoon looking for his cell phone (a familiar routine)...in the garden...in the cars...in the garage...in every room in the house.  After calling it and listening carefully we heard a kitten-sized ring in our closet where he had left it in some pants that he had worn and then shoved in a drawer!

Yes, he is home and my life is now busier.

Treasure Chests of Virtual Reality

There were days long ago when friends would send out a birthday card followed by a winter holiday card (Hanukkah or Christmas or whatever) and they would write a few paragraphs or if they had an ego the size of mine they would include a chummy newsletter that let the friend know all that had happened since we had last seen each other.  Sometimes we would include a photograph just to show we were indeed aging but still alive or to prove that our children and grandchildren were the most beautiful in the world.  These little histories might be tucked away in shoe boxes and if we stopped sending out mail our children or family would send out the notice of our passing sometimes months later after finding our address book or upon receipt of the letters at next year's holiday.

Grannie Annie commented in a past post about how hard it would be today to know why someone quit posting on a blog and how hard it would be to find out what happened to them.  In this modern digital age our lives are played out on Facebook, Snapfish, Phanfare, Flicker, YouTube, et al. by us and by others with whom we wander down our life's path.  Sometimes others may tell even more than we would like to share about us to their friends...many of whom we don't even know.  Those who are more communicative and with a little larger sense of their lives go forward with Blogs or Web pages and tell friends, family and frequently anyone who would watch and read, including total strangers, all about their memories and activities and opinions.

Our modern lives are held in "clouds" of digital pixels on servers everywhere and anywhere.  If I die tomorrow, not that I am going to, no one will be able to tell you that I died.  If it is not a professional site such as a newspaper column, perhaps no one will edit, preserve or delete anything I have written.  I have photo libraries stored in various places.  Yahoo has indicated that upon the receipt of a copy of an official death certificate they will remove the account.  Others have similar or no process in place.  I have a twitter account which I rarely use and only started it to stalk my son; I have an FB account, even an old password protected blog site that I have used on rare occasions to post only family stuff for relatives.  I even have old web pages somewhere that I created a long time ago and I can't even remember where those are!  All of these are accessible with various passwords and unless I give a directive and tell family where the password list is, I will become a cloud of information myself.

Certainly a site such as Facebook would be easier to inform friends of an important change.

I am still fascinated by these digital words and photographs shared across the globe.  Maybe some of this digital information will be useful to cultural archeologists or historical librarians, and in 100s of years, that which remains and can be uncovered will be sifted and analyzed and discussed.  But this is not like great-grandma's letters...it is hidden and easily lost.  Do any of you wonder about this stuff?  Do you care?

Romance

I had no intention of being a fan of the Royal Wedding.  I had avoided all the pre-programs and super guessing games and standard analysis and while I am not against happiness for this lovely couple...I really, really, really had no interest.

This morning I wandered downstairs to exercise (no applause as I haven't exercised in over a week) and flipped on the TV as I cannot run on the elliptical without some distraction.  I HATE aerobic exercise.  I had been watching a movie weeks ago on this channel and here at 5:30 in the morning... in my basement...what should I see... but the wedding procession just getting underway.  Since I was already on the running machine and had begun to work up a rhythm, I left the channel running.

It soon became fascinating.  All  the pomp and circumstance was captivating.  Even that old, cold Queen who had long ago given it up for England looked so lovely and warm.  No big grins on her face and no indication she was happy about this day...but she wore a lovely golden yellow and did allow a few royal smiles.  The sis almost outshone the bride with that lovely gown and the children were almost American in their desire for decorum to be over and done with already.

I heard that the wording had been changed to gender neutral...but they still went through the symbolism of the father giving away the bride as if she was property....or as if he had spent substantial time in raising her while her mother stood in silver gray in the background as mothers have done for centuries.  You know, the one who did the cooking, bathing, diapering?

The boys choir and the adult choir were stunning and the sermon to the couple was warm and intelligent, and all almost made me desire to get back into church attendance except there are no choirs or church bells of this magnificence in my neck of the woods.

AND I have to confess that I did tear up several times when I saw the love and excitement that the British citizens (all around the world) had for this beautiful couple.  I have to admit that this was the best reality show I have seen in a long time and I do wish them a lifetime of happiness and perhaps more important lots of good luck.

No Tornadoes, No Complaint

All we got was some very nasty winds and torrential downpours...but it was enough to dislodge these two tulip trees.  One had been damaged in the building of the house 5 years ago, but we thought the other was pretty healthy.  Notice that it missed the compost corral but did knock aside the bat house.  AND more money to fix that damn deer fence...AGAIN!  At least I am safe and my house is safe.  I will not complain.

So Where Is She?

So where in the heck has Tabor been?  Hiding under a rock waiting for a rain along with that garden snail?

No.  Perhaps she has been busy growing mushrooms...although she was sure she planted ageratum in this tray of annuals?

She has been busy keeping the many tomato plants alive in their containers for the plant sale coming up in a few weeks.

She has been dragging hoses from one side of the yard to the other.  She has been busy lifting heavy bags of potting soil and dumping the soil into various containers.

The on the odd hour she has been admiring the one or two planters that slept through the winter and put on their own spring show with absolutely no help from her!

What Can I Say?

What a strange feeling for someone who has been known for talking too much...to actually, factually, and tactually run out of things to write.

I could write about my inability to fit with Easter, although I have tried for decades to believe in this.  It just ain't gonna happen and writing about it will only alienate those for whom it is a deeply important personal time.  I could write about needing a Manners Manual for what to do when your family wants you to come for Easter and in the middle of the day they are planning on going to mass.  ( I was baptized Catholic but raised myself as a Methodist and raised my children the same.)  Now I am just a spiritual wanderer, happy when others pray for me, but not expecting any miracles.

I could write about the tease and temptress that spring is.  Going from 49F in the midday to 80F on another midday and me doing a plant dance of covering and then uncovering and then watering and then sheltering from too much rain all the little plants that I want to survive this year.  They are pushing their leaves against their plastic lids!!

I could write a long treatise on my plant ignorance having learned two days ago at a training session that sugar maple trees are most foolish to plant in the mid-Atlantic as Maine is even having problems keeping them alive as the weather warms more each year.

I could write about how I miss my husband but now that I have less than a week until he returns, I am a little sad about losing my independent days and the freedom of odd meals and even odder mealtimes.

Or, I could just be lazy and say I have nothing to write about!  Your turn.

Spring Green Thursday Thoughts #34

As Kermit the frog has said:  "It's not easy being green."  Humans are finding this out more and more each day.

1.  The ozone hole above the earth is the smallest since 2006 and may disappear by 2050 which is a long time from now.  I probably won't be alive then.

2.  Our recent budget bill passed by the U.S. Congress included the highly relevant removal of protection against shooting gray wolves.

3.  If you were giving out the 2011 Environmental Hero award I am sure that the actress, Darryl Hannah, would not be the person who would first come to mind...but she is getting the award.

4. In my neighborhood several folks leave on porch lights which I can see blazing the woods as I crawl into bed each evening.  These lights would not discourage robbers as there are many dark corner windows for them to explore.  I suggest we turn off all our outside lights at night to reduce light pollution which is a huge tragedy on this planet.

5.  The Environmental Protection Agency has proposed rules to reduce mercury emissions from coal plants by 91%. According to some politicians this would be too expensive for coal plants to implement.   I think it would be too expensive for baby lungs NOT to implement.

6.  Pollution for the copper mine chosen to produce metal for the medals awarded at the 2012 London Olympics is responsible for up to 200 premature deaths each year.  Sort of takes the edge off of the reason for the Olympics.

7.  In 2006 Brazil and Peru agreed to construct five dams throughout Peru, selling most of the power to energy hungry Brazil which has reduced its poverty rate to 15.3%.  Most of these dams will be built in the heart of the last rain forests in the world creating cities and new highways and jobs into the heart of the green.

8.  Kit foxes living in cities in California have a diet richer in corn products than their more rural cousins...probably due to corn syrup...i.e. junk food from trash.

9. Earth Week is almost over...how about using cloth for wrapping your Easter Gifts?  Turning off all lights at night?  Not using so many paper towels or turning off the continual rinse water when washing dishes?

10.  I did not know about this group!

11.  If you have children you might do one or two of these this week.

12.  The good side of rising gas prices is that we will be forced to pay for a fossil fuel at its real value.  Of course, those on fixed incomes and those who are poor will learn this lesson in an unfair way.

13.  When you go shopping today, look for things you need and not things you want, and please remember that there is no more away to throw it!

Pauline Hit the Nail On the Head

Actually Pauline hit the nail on the head with my prior post.  It was more the way my time was being jerked around by a broken car, broken appointments and no one to commiserate with!  I like being alone, but know it is not good to lead the life of a hermit in this day and age and force myself to get out the door and go somewhere.  I just wish other people and things would respect my time!

No One Cares That You Had Oatmeal for Breakfast

The kind of thoughts that the title above reflect have been tossing and tumbling about in my feeble brain this past week.   They are annoyingly self pitying and self centered.  Perhaps it is because I have been alone for weeks, perhaps it is because my step-nephew who was in the area called for a visit and then never showed nor called back, perhaps it is because my son has told me two weekends in a row that he is coming to visit and then cancels the day before, perhaps it is because my daughter is spending spring break with the in-laws at the beach, perhaps it is because my 12-year-old car is beginning to abandon me...perhaps it is because I do not have a dog.  (Of course, there is always the very real and more perfect danger that I could get used to and really like this hermetic and vacuum packed existence.)

You Can Fool Dumb People All of the Time

American college students, bored housewives, and elderly couples without a life are now in mourning across the country.  Afternoons will soon be filled with the reality of "real" lives instead of the drama of soap operas.  No, I do not really care.  I was addicted to soaps back in college and later when stuck staying at home with babies.  This was kind of stupid watching these serial dramas, since it was all that romance and hot body action that resulted in my being confined at home with diapers, humans that could not yet talk, and slow afternoons that were perfect for soap operas in the first place.

Now it is my understanding that today's economics have driven the daytime entertainment programming industry in a new direction so that now Americans will be watching real people 'act' out their lives instead of actors telling stories written by writers.  These 'real' people will be lousy at their jobs because their lives are filled with strife, arguments, sex, break-ups, alcohol, self-doubt, and all while wearing impractical clothes in the worst taste possible.  But some of these 'real' people will break out into more than 15 minutes of fame.  And if their enhanced cleavage holds up, and their hair stays thick and their mouth doesn't betray them, they may even get to give a college graduation address or two or perhaps write a book on why we should not make all the mistakes they have made in their pathetic little lives...sorry, my must be my envy.  Their public advice will not be free, but it will certainly not be worth what they are paid.  They will make six figure incomes while teachers and fire fighters and policemen and soldiers who lead honest lives will struggle to put food on the table.  Daytime reality stars will tell boring stories while real writers will struggle for the attention span of mediocre American minds on independent channels.  But the primary point is that reality stars will not make the humongous salaries of real actors (like that wonderful talent Charlie Sheen who milked his production studio dry...must have been that union he belonged to.)

Watching these reality shows will emphasize the worst behaviors and character flaws that can be found in our society.  They will be excellent examples of what not to do if you are watching with your teenagers.  Real reality would be boring to watch as it might involve intelligent people with mature ideas and cooperative relationships muddle through their days.  "Reality television' is an oxymoron like Fox's "Fair and Balanced" news programs.

For all of those who think American culture is now stagnating in a swamp of mediocre stimulation, it gives me no pleasure to agree with you.

The Survey or Was It?

Let us say that you have a local bank where you do most of your business.  Let us say that after the bad news on banks in years past, you really like this bank because it did not get bad press.  You like this bank because it provides good service and is conveniently located in both your town and also in the grocery where you shop.

Let us say that after numerous phone calls, from a phone number ID of Pittsburgh, PA which you did not recognize, you decide to finally answer the phone.  Let us say that the call is from the marketing headquarters of your bank and they really, really, really, really love your patronage and want to survey you as one of their favored customers.   (No, neither of your accounts is in the 6 figures.)  They want to know what it is that you like about their bank, and what it is that you don't like, and what you would recommend for better service to you, their valued customer.  I suggested higher interest rates which brought a chuckle on the other end.

Now answer me this question:

Why after this 8 ( golly it seemed like 20) minute phone call which you had to break off yourself with a false excuse, do you now know that the bank interviewer is 38, has a girlfriend, they are Redskins fans, they both love to garden, he will use your term 'therapeutic' in relation to gardening if you don't mind(?), they never buy tomatoes from the store...although the farmer's market can sometimes provide a decent tomato, the interviewer's mother is 70, both he and his mother lost a chunk of money in the market crash (through investments with Leighman Brothers), after which he fired his investment counselor, and as a final tidbit of info, he is now concerned because his mother is on a fixed income? Why is he telling me this?!!  I am not a Chatty Kathy, so I did not pull this out of him.  As a matter of fact, I barely got a word in edgewise except for answering a rare question or two.  As I stood impatiently talking to this man and staring out my front window, I almost thought it was a joke and that I was part of some 'you got punked' show expecting Brad Pitt to show up at my door cell phone in hand and big grin on his face.  Fat chance.

After several commiserating comments on my part which I was able to make while the interviewer took a breath, I then insisted I HAD to go.  He responds with, "Well, I still have several more questions to ask you.  Perhaps I can call you back later or in a few days?"  (Not in your wildest wet dreams, kiddo.)  With a smile in your voice you recommend he do that and then hang up the phone and make a promise to yourself not to answer any more phone calls with the ID Pittsburgh, PA.  (I now wonder if he was trying to get personal information out of me and this wasn't a bank call after all?  He did find out that I like to garden and I am not a Redskins fan.)

Sigh.

Do You Like Egg Salad?

I have been alone since the fifth of the month and will be alone until the end of April.  My husband is thousands of miles away attempting to start a business.  It is a long shot, but since it has become the project that helps him get out of bed each morning, I am letting him fly with the goals (not gulls).  I personally think the project has a snowballs chance in hell of going anywhere, because it has a large philanthropic component and not a serious profit motive and is being done in a foreign country.  He put in some money he made from working on a special project years ago.  He has a partner that is more than matching this money.  Tens of thousands of dollars (not hundreds of thousands which are really needed to start any business) and I see the money disappearing into the air.  This is their last ditch effort after several years of planning, negotiating, talking, getting permits, etc.  My husband is not a business man, he is a scientist and a dreamer.

If it is successful he will have to travel at least three times a year and be away for weeks at a time.  I do not worry about my loneliness; although I don't like being alone that much, I am adaptable.  I worry about an old man flying in a plane for 15 hours at a time!  I worry about his wanting me to go with him on some of these trips.  I have no desire to sit in an apartment in a remote village far from my home with little to do.  A week of photography and then I want to come home.  I want to garden and be with grandchildren.  I worry about the work this house and yard need.

If it is successful he can make a little money.  We do not need a little money.  Although with inflation just around the corner and with the government blase about releasing/overseeing the controls on investment regulations, we may need that money as a cushion after all.  I keep thinking it can go towards my grandchildren's education or my son's house someday.  (Rumor has it that the market is priming for another big dip.)

As you can see, I have much ambivalence about this whole thing that has been five years in the planning and is now coming to a head.  I kept pretending it was not going anywhere, but I misjudged my husband's stubbornness, as I have most of our married life.  These are the last years of our lives together and my energizer bunny of a husband is not comfortable retiring and watching the sunset.  Therefore, he should be allowed to live his life the way he wants...but  while I have eagerly followed him all over the world in previous times, I no longer want to do that either.  Do I dare hope that it fails and that he finds working here in the community rewarding?   I must teeter on this wall for at least the length of another a year.  Are those eggshells I see on the ground below me?

Thursday Thoughts #33...Thirteen Things I Learned in March

1.  Both men and women taste the same according to cannibals.  (Equality at last!)
2.  Republican State Representative Alan Hale from Montana thinks the drunk driving laws in his state are both draconian and adversely impact small businesses.  He wants the DUI laws repealed. ( Montana roads are NOT that empty.  I wish all these idiots had a country/state all to themselves.)
3.  Children who are the happiest, are the most likely to use drugs or alcohol to excess.  Children who face at least some stress in their lives are not.  (Remember these are likely percentages...not certainties.  The study was mentioned in David Brooks recent book.)
4.  Only 10% of children are actually born on their predicted due date.
5.  Daffodils do not always increase in numbers and naturalize, at least in my yard.  :-(
6.  One community has tried to ban a child who is allergic to peanuts from their school.  They want the child home-schooled so they can feed their children peanut products in lunches.  (Really!  Is the most creative they can be in solving this problem?)
7.  In a recent interview by Bill O'Reilly, Donald Trump began to question whether Obama was actually born in this country, and O'Reilly, to his credit, indicated he thought it was a stupid argument.  (He (THE DON) will never run for president because he will actually have to turn over his finances to be managed by someone else, but he will always say outrageous stuff because he is an attention sump.)
8.  If you are short on topics for dinner conversation perhaps you might want to discuss this statistical data and its meaning for your dinner guests.
9.  Or here where I learned that Indonesia has the highest number of twitter users on the planet.
10.  Japan first tried cement on the leak and then went to shredded paper and sawdust...does this have a familiar ring to anyone?
11.  This spring I got a third grandchild and this gal had triplets.  For live camera action, go here.  The nest weighs over a ton!
12.  This is an inspiring self-publishing story.
13.  I learned this month that even good writers (those far better than I) have concerns about their abilities to write.  I try to re-read my posts a few times before putting them up.  Typos and grammatical errors still squeak through, but my over-sized ego will survive when I see the mess ups.  Fortunately, I do not have to make my living at this.

(As a post script I cannot believe that lawyers (and others) with six figure salaries and excellent health care programs cannot get their act together and solve this budget issue!  Shutting down the government is a bigger mess than most people can comprehend.  One tiny effect is that federal libraries have significant gaps in their research subscriptions proving this.  The next time that Food and Drug scientist is looking for that unique study and has to wait several weeks to get the article Faxed to the office, let's hope it wasn't about something you ate.)

Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of her own.

Once again Tabor's world has shifted dramatically, not with the agony or pain of an earthquake, but with the dramatic entrance of a new life. Grandchild number three arrived at the very end of March into this lovely family.  Already Tabor follows this tiny face and eyes and actions as if this was a delicate needlework tapestry.  Since she cannot see the big picture, yet, she will focus on the details.

Who will this new person be? How will he fit in with the solid and established family unit?  Will he be the exotic and unique flower in this garden of love, or will he be the magnificent oak that spreads and overshadows all with his living energy, or will he fit in comfortably like a perfectly shaped shrub, unnoticed until we turn to check on him.  Daddy wants an athlete, mommy wants a loving child, and the grandparents want a healthy and happy child.  Can he meet all these expectations?

Within 24 hours he was trying, with much success, to lift his head when held against my shoulder, and therefore, I already know he is going to be a force to be reckoned with in years to come.

Is That Fear I Feel Rising?

Fear when used with rational consideration of all the data can be a useful tool that is designed to protect us from possible danger. Fear when used with a lack of control and based only on emotion can be a disaster.  When fear becomes panic and we stop relying on the gray cells, then we are in for punishment.  I think the stories coming out of Japan show tremendous courage but also lots of rational thought.  Bold actions facing the fear were taken by individuals that saved many lives even though just running away would have resulted in the person insuring the safety of his/her own life alone.

Two months ago when I was staying at a friends home in central Florida, I had lots of time on my hands.  They live on several acres in lovely tropical woods and on a large freshwater spring.  I could take early morning or late evening or even mid-day walks and totally disappear from the site of the house for long periods of time.  The weather was comfortable, and except for the few rains, I was having fun with my camera capturing all the exotic stuff.

Florida is filled with beauty and this is mixed in with exotic alligators, poisonous snakes, and an odd plant danger or two.   I had the privilege of seeing a wild bobcat saunter across the front lawn one morning.  My walks were usually by myself, and being conscious of this, I was careful although not fearful.  During one morning I came across this snake skin beside the path.  This was a REALLY long snake, and so I became somewhat concerned.  There had been a 10-foot (non-indigenous) python seen crawling across the nearby road two winters ago on this property...but it was also found frozen to death in a nearby drainage pipe two days later.  AND what I had heard about pythons was that they NOT did sneak up on you and attack you as you were walking.  They look for much smaller prey.

Unless animals see us as dinner or cannot see a way out, I think in 99% of the other cases they try to avoid us.  I decided that a snake skin is not a snake and moved in slowly for a closer look.

Who knows what scratched ankles, broken limbs or painfully stubbed toes (not to mention damaged camera) I might have incurred had I followed my first instinct to run screaming down the path back to the house?  Fear is a guidance counselor...not a drill Sargent.  If you are having trouble understanding this post...click on the photo above.

(As a post script for all who are afraid of mother nature, afraid of there not being enough (of whatever) to go around, afraid of the news, afraid of people who look, act and think differently than you...you are in for a very long scary ride.  I am so sorry.)

Marriage

I have been married (to the same man) for 40+ years. No, I actually do not know the exact number give or take a year and I am not going to look it up and my husband is now asleep, so sue me.  I do know that we have had a pretty good run.  As most people who are past middle age realize, marriage is rarely about romance.  Oh yes, romance is nice, but it is not the normal state of affairs.  Actually, too much romance in a marriage would make me suspicious.  We have had our bad times, but there was only one year, two decades ago, when we came close to drifting apart completely.  He did a very bad thing and I decided, with time, it wasn't all that bad and with some marriage counseling we came through to the other side and I am so glad we are where we are today.

Ours is not a perfect marriage, but perfect marriages are undefinable to me anyway.  There are days when I have polished the kitchen to an unnatural shine and in his minute of fixing a snack it has been returned to an elementary school lunchroom.  There are days when I remind of him of something important or ask him to do something important that only he can do, and he still forgets because it is not his priority causing me frustration.  There are events where he talks too much about his interests, reveals too much personal stuff to strangers, or makes me wait alone for an hour while he finishes up something.  There are days when he says he wants to cook dinner, but doesn't even enter the kitchen until almost 7:00 P.M.  There are days when the time spent on this "business project" of his seems like eons.

But these are all in contrast to his telling and showing me he loves me (on occasion),  helping me with my projects, going with me on my errands, watching some film noir with me (which he hates), letting me have control of the remote, putting up with my blogging (which to him is like reading cartoons), loving our children totally, and living peacefully with my anal retentive sense of organization.  The above is also balanced with his love of the outdoors, his efforts to be active and healthy and to encourage me to do the same, and his intelligent sense of humor.

But a blogger posted this link which oddly brought tears to my eyes, because the woman in the video is my husband.  That is how he feels about the world.  He feels responsible.  His philosophy is that every big change begins with that first step and there is no need for recognition.  He does this when he is all alone in the woods and no one is watching!  

Joiners

I have never been a big joiner, even in causes I believe in; I have to steel myself to join things.  I tend to be the type that thinks if you join something...you have to JOIN it. Joining means to me that you will go to the meetings, setup for the events, volunteer to do the boring stuff that the other members tend to avoid.  You will be active and not just lend your name or a few dollars to the cause, club, institution.  As a result of this Puritanical attitude, I tend to avoid joining the majority of things that come my way.

My Master Gardener program requires 40 hours of volunteer/leadership work the first year.  You are committed to the cause of sharing the gardening experience whether you like it or not.  You can count the monthly meetings and the time spent driving to and from places.  Since January I have put in about 10 hours.  This week I am committed to several errands and an event which will add another 4 or 5 hours of my time.  Of course, as spring commences, gardeners are needed everywhere.  I was talking to a fellow MSTG (Master Gardener) and she said when she first started her project, there were few places to volunteer time in our rural area.  Over the past few years, many more opportunities have developed.  I am guessing this is due to baby boomers nearing retirement and looking for things to do and thus creating community gardens for areas.  I must say that our business meetings are certainly energetic and the last one had about 30 attendees!

While I was thinking of this process of joining I recently noticed new joiners (followers) to my blog(s).  I do not know how they found their way here in most cases.  I do not know if they even read my blog, because many do not comment on posts or comment only once.  I keep thinking that sometimes bloggers like to collect followers like friends on FB.  No communication is involved.  It is just a collecting thing.

I have two lists I follow in blogging.  Sometimes I "follow" the blog on their page and then that blog shows up on the Blogger Dashboard page if they have made a recent post.  The other way is the old-fashioned way of creating a link to the blog in the html code of the my blogs design which then shows up in my sidebar of my blog page when they post.  This I still tend to do more often than the former.  I keep forgetting the other list.  Many on this second list have drifted off into the digital black hole of neglect.  They started writing with the best of intentions and then blogging lost its appeal or they were using it as a tool to sell something and not really blog, or life and living got in the way.

My concern  has become that this following of blogs is just like joining.  My lists are getting long and I feel an obligation to read the majority of the posts of blogs I follow.  (Although I am not talking about your blog, of course, I head there first every time!)  I do not want to hurt anyone's feelings although I do not always feel a need to comment on the post, and as cute as that kitten is, I really have no time to read about it.

These blogger lists are somewhat like my speedwell plant that I posted about on my other blog.  It is lovely, interesting, and in the beginning a most compelling plant.  But then it spreads and becomes a maintenance issue and must be tended, and the fun starts to fade a little and obligation rears its hard head.

Do any other bloggers face this concern?  How do you deal with it?  I bet most of you are women...is this all just silliness on my part?

One Day

She rests easy in the dark night sky. Her gentle face reflects the peaceful light of eternity. We are trying to shelter against war, famine and earthly destruction.  We are trying to close out angry evil sounds.  We close our ears to the cry of pain.  We close our eyes to shut out ugly visions.  We sigh and breathe in dust-filled air.  But, if you cast your eyes upward, she will remind you, that this too will pass. The beauty of our earth will survive in time.  She will return to bathe us in her silver calming light until all is healed.  Peace is patient.

Thursday Thoughts #32---Very Small Happy Thoughts

The news has been so full of awful things, more awful than usual. Mother Earth has just shown us who is boss once again by slapping us up the side of the head and Mankind has shown that testosterone is highly overrated when trying to control a social Tsunami in a desert.  So here are some of my personal thankful thoughts helping me hold it together, small though they are, as I straddle this bridge of life.

1. Spring has moved into my yard and is unpacking scarves in the most magical of colors.
2. My daughter has not yet delivered baby #3 and thankfully it will be coming closer to the ready date.
3. My daughter's friend who has a sister who is a professional photographer actually asked me for some butterfly photos to decorate her daughter's bathroom.
4. I have not lost any weight but I am in very good health and not on any medications.
5. My son is still dating the same girl.
6. My grand-daughter called me this past weekend and begged me to come visit, which I did.
7. The bluebird is checking out the birdhouse just under the deck outside my bedroom window.
8. I have found a new hair dresser and she looks like she might be a keeper.
9. My husband kissed me yesterday morning in passing.
10. I have finished my income taxes.
11.  I have very special blog friends, in spite of the fact that I have not met them.
12.  This past trip I renewed and restored friendship with several long-time friends.
13.  I am alive.

I am sure on your gloomiest of days you can come up with a thankfulness list of 13 'small' things!

The Pro and the Con

I have mentioned in a past post that I received a Kindle for Christmas from my daughter.  I did not ask for a Kindle.  I was a fence sitter when it comes to electronic reading.  But my daughter loves hers and in her busy life of family, work and travel she found she can read so much more with a Kindle and wanted to share her joy.

The are numerous columns and comments about e-reading versus physical copies of books.  I am still a sort of fence sitter.  I have found pros and cons...and thus I will list them.

Pro Kindle (or perhaps other e-readers):

Easy to transport.
Easy to hold.
Easy to read as font sizes can be enlarged immediately.
Easy to bookmark a page, highlight a passage, look up a word in the e-dictionary.
    (Although I have not figured out how to easily find the specific highlighted passage weeks later.  I have a photographic memory and could find it in the physical book by remembering how far in and where on the page.)
Easy to buy a new book from ANYWHERE and download it in seconds.
I can get the latest title without waiting for it to show up in the library or bookstore.
I can peruse several chapters before buying.
E-books are cheaper.
It can hold something like 10,000 titles.
Has free stuff and word games---the more you buy the more free stuff.


Con Kindle:


Photos are not in color.
Some graphs and photos are not in electronic format at all.
It is not as easy to peruse a book although one can search for details.
I would miss the shelves of books in my house that start many a conversation with guests.
I cannot loan wonderful books.
It is a good format for reading...but art books, no!
Keyboard is too small for my old hands.
I no longer dare read in the bathtub.
I am on a guilt trip thinking I may be undermining publishers and libraries.
There is little serendipity with the e-book, you really read linearly.
I still like the book format so very much (just like Captain Kirk.)

The debate is now open for comments.

Just One Last Thought

We headed out early for the airport for our return flight.  Security is always an issue that takes up time before travel and hubby was notified at the outside gate that he had been "randomly" selected for an extra security check.  The blue-eyed, bald-headed guy with the effusive personality is definitely the Politically Correct choice!  (Do not get me started on TSA and their dysfunctional efforts.)  Anyway, mid-way through the first security check they whisked hubby away and I had to head out to the gate by myself.  At this early time the gate chairs were only half full and I sat and read my Kindle... for a while.  Time passed slowly and so I went to peruse the shops for some last minute chocolate.  Instead I found this book.  According to the back cover, Frances-Marie Coke was born in Jamaica.  She is a Human Resource Management Consultant and has lectured at the University of the West Indies.  This is her second collection of published poems.

As a collector of poetry (that is NOT in electronic form) I perused it only briefly before deciding that it would be my souvenir to take home and my companion on the plane in case they decided to keep my husband.  Below is a  sample of one of my favorite passages from this book of poetry.

Lonely Is

...a river where the ripples have no stones,

a shadow lengthening down a slender room, 

a lullaby without an infant's eyes

fluttering to sleep; lonely is

the stillness of a loveless April evening;

a night of silence broken

by a fan that makes no difference;

a leaf entangled in a spider's web;

a thread unraveled from its weave.

I had read a few pages when my husband finally showed up with his bags and sat next to me just as they began the call for boarding.  Within seconds he was called up to the gate desk and then motioned to me that he was going to go through one more security check (number three) and that I should just board without him!  (What a waste of taxpayer money!)  Fortunately we both made the flight and they allowed us to sit together and treated us like normal passengers from then on out, whatever that means.

Gnarley Marley

(Let us hope this is the last of those travel posts that Tabor has become so dependant on. No original thoughts rattling around in her brain...certainly!  What a real bore she would be if she didn't travel.)

Bob Marley is an icon and hero to most of Jamaica.  They revere him as many revered Elvis Presley in the U.S. but his story is much more compelling.  His music is timeless, at least to me.  When I listen to it I feel young and there.  He wrote and sang protest music about the condition of mankind.

We toured his home and studio.  Much of it bare rooms except for the bedroom and kitchen.  There are marvelous posters, news articles, and award albums on the walls and Marley music constantly playing in the background.  (We were not allowed to take photos.)  What is fun is the way the tour guide hums and dances to the music as she brings us through the rooms and tells his story.  It seems everyone in Jamaica can carry a tune...two of our tour guides sang to us that week.   I barely understand the Rastafari religion, but it is certainly quirky and deep, vegan diet and ganga weed combined and the belief that Haile Sellassie, who traced his roots to Solomon and Sheba, was seen as the black holy king to lead the negro race.

Less quirky and more common was that Marley was born to an 18-year-old black girl (Cedella Booker) and fathered by Captain Norval Marley, a 50-year-old quartermaster attached to the British West Indian Regiment and a plantation owner.  Marley's parents were married, and thus, the Captain was forced to provide some financial support, but provided little else in the role of fatherhood for this young man before he died, Marley was 10 at that time.  Even without a father Marley grew up to be one of the most significant peace makers across racial lines in Jamaica with his music, traveling a marvelous journey from a poor home in Trenchtown outside Kingston to the homes of global leaders.  Bob Marley and the Wailing Wailers had their first big hit in 1963.  Bob Marley married and had three children.  He had at least eleven children total in his life when including those with other women.

His growing international popularity also brought him into the arena of politics and to the front of the ongoing ghetto wars in Jamaica.  He and band members were shot while rehearsing in his home in 1976 in a hail of gunfire from the yard outside, perhaps because of a free concert he was planning to give to attempt some peace among his people.  They have covered most of the walls in this tragic room with board but left one bullet hole to view.  It is shockingly large and deep. He bravely played the controversial free concert the next night with a bullet still inside him and forced the two opposing political leaders to hold hands before the crowd (see the photo of the opportunists below).  This violent attack later caused him to go into a retreat in London, and he did not return to his beloved homeland until April of 1978.

Bob Marley was also a fitness nut in that he ran almost every day and loved to play soccer.  An infection from a toe injury turned cancerous in his early 30's and he was told he would have to have the toe amputated.  He refused and within a few years he died of brain cancer at the age of 36.  This is just a thumbprint of the exotic life he led (excluding working as a lab assistant for Dupont) and if you search the Internet you can hear Buffalo Soldier, One Love, I Shot the Sheriff, and you will find so much more.

"The compilation album Legend (1984), released three years after his death, is reggae's best-selling album, going ten times Platinum (Diamond) in the U.S.,"  Wikipedia.

Addiction

Food is some of the best part of travel.  I admit that I am addicted to chocolate and wine...in that order.  But coffee certainly comes in a close third.  My visit to Jamaica had to include a tour of a coffee plantation.  It wasn't much of a tour due to rainy weather and the members of our group for whom a flight of stairs was a challenge before even considering a hike up a hillside of coffee plants. The plantation owner's home (he no longer lives there) was beautifully kept.  I bought three eight ounce bags of Jamaican Blue.   It made it through customs in the U.S. easily.

Jamaican Blue is considered one of the most expensive coffees in the world.  (Forbes lists several coffees at $50 US a pound and I paid $30 US a pound for my Jamaican Blue...but this was AT the plantation.  It was $6 US more at the hotel.)  Most of this coffee is now in my freezer.  This plantation below is owned by a Japanese man, although run by a Jamaican and worked on by Jamaicans.  As a note, most of the Jamaican Blue coffee goes directly to Japan and I could not find this estate in any of my research on coffee reviews.  I did taste it at the estate and while it is not a robust coffee, it was nicely full-flavored and a little sweet.  Certainly better than anything I can get at Starbucks or other.  The guide told us that it is not the caffeine that gives one a boost after a cup but the other chemicals and/or sugar in the coffee...news to me.  I got my boost from the mountain views.

Green coffee beans.

"It's lovely to live on a raft..." Huck Finn

While in Jamaica, we spent most of our time taking tours and getting the lay of the land.  We spent only two half days on the beach, a few hours snorkeling (and in all truth actually never made it into any one of the swimming pools...but been there and done that.) While we could have rented a car, they drive on the 'wrong' side of the road and they also drive like crazy people sometimes.  Our J*** shuttle from the airport had a police radar active and it went off several times during that dark night as we took our speedy 2.5 hour trip to our hotel.  They told us most of the road accidents occur with tourists who drive on the 'wrong' side of the road or drive too 'slow.'  I think this means less then 15 miles over the speed limit.  We did not see any accidents while there, so perhaps the danger level is far lower than it seemed during our longer van trips.

We did walk up Dunns River Falls which is a tradition I told myself I would go through.  Hubby had done this 40 years ago (with some dingy blonde in a tiny bikini when there was like one other couple) with absolutely no hand bars, decks, people with cameras, signs, chains of people holding hands, refreshment stands, people trying to sell you photos, etc.  Thus, my experience this time was far different than his original adventure.  It is a climb of about 3 football fields up and the only danger is the rapids which are so rough you cannot see where you place your feet.  My only injury was a skinned shin when hubby decided to help me make a rather large step up by pushing on my butt!  The other discomfort (other than masses of people) was the gravel that kept collecting in the river shoes.

Sorry, no photos.  Too wet for cameras and the only photos they took I did not purchase and I am way too vane to print anyway.

We also took a newer tourist ride...on the bamboo raft down the Martha Brae River in Jamaica.  It is a gentle and very safe little adventure.  I was hoping to see exotic wildlife, but only saw exotic craft/refreshment booths.  The guides were wonderfully friendly and also knew their history and most of their botany.

No, that is not hubby and I on that raft in photo #3 but a charming young couple from Britain that went on the tour with us!  (And if you want photos of the birds and buds you have to check out my other blog.)

Since You Asked

Daughter is still doing well.  She has been allowed to get up out of bed after her recent doctor's visit but must try to be as still as possible.  (Telling my daughter she can get up but be as still as possible is crazy.  I turned around and she was putting laundry in the washer, emptying the dryer and folding clothes.)  She cannot sit up or stand for long periods of time as this large baby is very uncomfortable for her.  Her contractions are only a few a day now and she is past the point of major concern if this baby decides to come.  The doctor indicated that if labor begins again, there is nothing to do about it.  Daughter is now off the meds as long term use is not recommended.

My husband was with her on weekends and then I came up weekdays, but I will probably leave her alone these next few days as i have seen my hubby little since this marathon began.  Both hubby and I have to come back if her husband goes on work travel next week, which is the current schedule!  We are a little over an hour away, and that should suffice long enough for a neighbor to cover if labor kicks in quickly and they have to head to their hospital which is only minutes away.

She gets very uncomfortable as the day grows and has to lie down often.

Such an odd miracle feeling the babies hard head at the base of her abdomen...but that is where it is supposed to be.  It keeps stretching its little feet and pushing on her organs.  Daughter belches like a farm hand after meals but has a good appetite. Looks like some miracles take their time after all.