Stretching Into Retirement

I have previously written about the unrewarding volunteer work I had been doing at the Public Library.  I started about 6 months ago and based on that recent volunteer luncheon (which I also wrote about), the scattered approach to their needs for me, and my sporadic personal schedule in the coming months, I called and told them I was going to put volunteering on hold for a while.  I may go back, but right now I am looking for something that "gives as much as it gets."  This may be unrealistic and selfish, but I am at the time in my life when I really need something more fulfilling and something where it is clear they need me and with at least a little social element.


So in the process of looking for a challenge, I recently signed up for the Master Gardener classes.  (In the U.S. this is a University based extension program involving an environmentally sustainable approach to working with commercial or hobby planting and landscaping.) 


What was I thinking?  Have you seen their class textbook (in the photo above)?  It was written by committee (mostly PhD professors) over several years of learning from prior classes, I am guessing.  The class meets two evenings a week for two months, has a quiz at the beginning of each class on the instruction from the prior class and covers an encyclopedia of stuff including history, policy, botany, pathology, geology, chemisty.  This will surely stretch my aging retired brain.  In the end it requires at least 40 hours of leadership-type of volunteering before certification.  Since I am new to this community, I am already intimidated by that requirement.  I also have to come up with two references...I guess that means my neighbors, because I do not know anyone else here.  


Oh well, I hope to get to know more people, have something to point to as an accomplishment, share what I learn with the next generation (esp. grandchildren) and certainly will learn more about gardening and landscaping.  Right now my brain is spinning with trying to understand the vocabulary:  positively charged ions, adsorption, desorption, lithosphere, anion, phloem, meristems, etc.  ( I am not showing off...just glad the final test is open book!)

Small Towns Never Change. Characters #4

(This is not the town in the post below.)

It was already 8:45 A.M. and the air was just starting to warm up.  I am normally an early riser, I was hungry...really hungry.  Since hubby is a big breakfast person the minute he gets up, whenever he gets up, he was verging on famished already.  We had to find food in this small Canada town which reminded me of the town I where I grew up.  There wasn't much here.  Train tracks along the outside edge, auto parts dealerships,  a hardware store, a real estate office, something called an 'underground galleria', another store with a sign 24 Hour Cash and a place that sold John Deere with John Deere toys in the window.  We did see a restaurant that advertised Chinese/Western food.  My stomach almost bolted.


Yes, there was a Dairy Queen (closed at this hour) and a MacDonalds...puleeze, I wanted food, not something to plug up my plumbing.  No pause for the challenges of travel when you are old.


We made a u-turn and did the whole town again finally finding a cross street with something that looked like a Tombstone version of Main Street.  I had read that Whifs Flapjack House was ranked as the #1 restaurant in town.  (Tabor, you aren't in Calgary anymore!)  We couldn't find that flapjack place, but as we cruised further down the quiet street we saw a restaurant with a few cars out front and a sign that said 'best bakery... something'.  Maybe we could get breakfast there?


Inside the restaurant of VERY SIMPLE decor (plastic chairs and tables and plastic flowers on a counter) was a small area the counter to the left and maybe six tables in a small open area on the right.  One table had four old-timers, 2 women and 2 men, sipping coffee and staring at each other.  As we entered, what little conversation they had been having ended, and they stared at us.  Clearly we were the break in Monday morning boredom they had been looking for.


Behind the counter was a chunky woman with a pony tail giving out change to another customer.  (I had the biggest deja-vu from when, as a teenager, I had worked two summers at Frank's cafe in my small hometown in Colorado...OMG I was going back in time and I had evolved and small towns had not and I wasn't all that comfortable about this revelation.)


The fact that no one talked and everyone watched our every move, made us even less comfortable.  We look questioning at the middle-aged woman behind the counter and she just stared back as well and then turned to the back wall to do something.


We walked up to the counter and studied the menu high on a board above her, at least to fill the uncomfortable void.  It listed a few pastries, a few sandwiches and drinks including something called "espresso."  Right!


When she turned back to face us, I asked what pastries she had.


"Just what is in that case behind you.  I have not had any time to bring anything up."  This was related in her best on-stage speaking voice so that everyone and anyone in the restaurant could hear.  


(Up?  From where?  Pastries from the cellar?  Fresh pastries from the former wine storage room?  More likely there was a former coal mine below.)


I saw a few sad rolls, two muffins and a cinnamon bun in the old fashioned case.  I asked for the cinnamon bun and coffee.  She handed me a white mug and pointed to the coffee pots on the side near the door.  I poured a cup of something, not really caring what as I wanted to just sit down and disappear.  I tried to pour from the cream jug and it appeared to be empty.  I tried the milk jug.  "Sorry but it looks like both of these are empty." 


"Hon, you will have to wait, I am the only one here until noon."   The only other four customers were drinking coffee and also waiting...  She was really busy.


Hubby ordered the fried egg sandwich but made the mistake of asking for tea.   


"That is going to take some time, outa hot water right now."  We both looked at each other in concern and I retreated to the far table for two against the wall.  Hubby then asked if she had Earl Gray (!)  She looked at him and replied: "If you want me to look in the back you will have to wait. " He suggested he would drink whatever tea she had available and then joined me at the table. 


Finally one of the old-timers (yeah, they were the same age as me and hubby...so what?!) got tired of staring at us and returned my tentative smile and asked where we were from.  We told our little tale of coming to the badlands to take photos and maybe see the dinosaur museum.


The waitress behind the counter turned away from frying the egg and asked me if I wanted my bun heated, and I assume she meant the one I ordered for breakfast.  Knowing it was probably made last Friday and dry as toast, I said yes.


The old guy at the table turned to the waitress and asked her if the museum was open on Monday.  He wondered aloud if they were now on the winter schedule.  She looked up at him and I think she was thinking...either about what he said or whether she was going to throw the spatula at him.  He turned to the women sitting next to him and asked the same question.  She responded with a similar expression on her face.


As we waited the other one of the two women, dressed in a flower print dress and sweater that reminded me of what my grandmothers wore, stood up, and lifting a cell phone out of her purse, asked in a voice loud enough to be heard in the 'wine cellar' if she could get a bus ticket for mid-morning. (Was everyone in this town hard of hearing?)  The contact on the phone must have said 'yes', because she hung up and hugged the other women and said good-bye to the two men and headed out the door.  As she reached the door one of the men said something to her.  She turned and waddled back to the table and then around to where we sat and pulled a wheeled basket with a grocery sack inside from behind my chair and then headed back out the door as her companions stoically watched.


The waitress brought me my warmed cinnamon bun and I actually apologized (fully intimidated by her at this time) and said I could have come up to the counter and gotten it myself.


As the egg sandwich cooked and the water boiled the man at the table began to relate various places we should see while visiting their little town including their very interesting coal mine and its' museum and the homestead antique museum.  While these were probably very nice, we really just wanted to see the dinosaur bones.


I looked up as the waitress behind the counter picked up the phone and in her normal (loud) voice asked 'Betty' at the other end of the phone line if the dinosaur museum was open on Monday.  She listened and then hung up and turned to us and said 'Betty' would call back.  As luck would have it, during our gourmet breakfast we learned when Betty called back that the museum was indeed on winter hours and not open on Mondays.  But, by this time, we were beginning to get the 'rhythm' of this New York style of hospitality in a small town in the Badlands of Canada.

Drum the Hell Out of It.

The Badlands are just over an hour outside of Calgary and, sadly, an afterthought to many tourists. We (I) wanted the best lighting across the desert geology and left very early from Calgary on a Monday morning. Racing along the highway I was in agony missing this sunrise which I snapped addictively from the rental car as cold morning air blew in my face and large semi-trucks raced ahead.

We were heading to a town called Drumheller. The name alone reflects the harshness of a town in a valley surrounded by flat topped dry hills. It is an old coal mining town. 139 mines were registered between 1911 and 1979 and there is a coal mining museum that tells the hard story.  We did not stop to visit the museum and the last mining site although it has been designated a national historic site in Canada.

People here are solid and probably conservative.  The Passion Play which is held every year is currently a claim to fame and draws people for hundreds of miles.

Drumheller is also known as Dinosaur valley because some important fossils have been found and the town has a claim to having the "largest dinosaur statue" in the world...which hadn't been on my bucket list to see, but now is (was).  There is a stunning modern paleontology museum which was closed on Mondays to us and so we missed that interpretation of this exceptional area.  If you are curious please go here for some fun.


Just north of here is another town called Hanna where the group Nickelback originated  (I will leave you to do your detective work to figure out where the name came from...you couch potatoes already know.)  There is something so totally talented and in abundance in the music gene pool of Canadians.  I like this group (Nickelback) , but not necessarily their evolutionary change in music as they move out of the valley.


Anyway, we did meet a few interesting town 'folks' of that solid small-town ilk which I will include in the next post.  

Grizzly Repellent Characters #3

As I have written at least once before, the magical thing about travel is that you have an increased opportunity to meet interesting and diverse people.  When I was young my travels usually brought me to the homes of other's parents and that meant good food and good stories. Now that I am a 'gray beard' I usually meet the odd ducks and adventurers, like us.


We passed this fellow at right in the photo above at the bottom of the highway.  He was trying to hitch a ride up the mountain on a cool Canada morning.  His funny bear hat drew my attention as well as his smile.  Hubby was not that comfortable about stopping for him and drove on by.  As the fates would have it we met him at the bottom of the Larch Valley hike just a little while later.  The park service had been seeing grizzlies in the area and had a sign at the bottom of this rather strenuous hike telling people that they had to hike in groups of four.  (I think since this was one of the most popular hikes in the area at this time of year that any grizzly would attack only because the crowds going up and down were driving him nuts!)

The young man asked if he could walk up with us.  Hubby commented that made us only three, but I argued that this tall young man counted easily as two if we encountered a grizzly.  Since there was no ranger in sight nor any sign indicating a fine, we started off as three.


To protect his privacy I will call him Sandy.  The first thing I learned from Sandy is that he taught CPR in Australia.  He went on to say that the CPR exercise really did not work, but the electronic defibrillator would be the tool that will save someone's life and then add CPR after that!  He told me if I ever had to use one to not worry about lack of training as these AEDs are well designed for success.  Of course both my husband and I were panting and had to stop every 10 minutes on this steep trail to catch our breath...so this was a little more than idle chatter for us.  He was such a sweetie, waiting for us so patiently each time we paused to take in the views.


The more we climbed, the more I learned about Sandy.  He recently was working as a bartender and left his job to travel around the world until the money ran out.  He was almost certain he could get his job back upon his return.  Then I later learned he actually was just a few hours short of a Ph.D. in biotech and had given that goal up because he realized he did not want to write grants for the rest of his life.  He also was not a rule freak and clearly the pharmaceutical industry was full of rules for its researchers.  Sandy was young and free and currently enjoying the life of a vagabond.  He had parents and siblings back in Australia that he spoke of fondly.  We talked about politics and science and nature on the way down the hill.


Since his camera battery had died I took a number of pictures of him in the larches (I will post something about this interesting conifer on my other blog).  I offered to tag him on FB and he gave me his name.  When I got home and brought up his profile, he had written on it that he liked men.  When I saw this it made me feel very odd and embarrased because I had asked him if he had a girlfriend waiting for him at the end of this sojourn.  We always see the world through our eyes and I can imagine how many times some little old lady sees this cute charmer and wants to fix him up with a young lady and asks if he has a wife or girlfriend.  So tedious, I am sure.


Sandy was on his way to do volunteer work in South America for some organization when we parted at the end of the day.  I would love to run into him again some day and see how his adventure unfolded.  (I'll bet you thought this post was going to be about a grizzly...;-))
 

Into the Mountains

Above is the small tourist town of Canmore where we stayed. We did not stay in Banff, and although Banff is a stunning mountain tourist town, I am glad we rested our worn hiking boots in this smaller and gentler place just outside the Banff National Park.  It was busy at this time of year and stays busy until early November when tourism drops off just before beginning again in the busy crazy ski season.  Even though mornings were cold in this valley, the weather got very pleasant within hours once the sun burned through the clouds.  Some days were foggy and rainy (snowy), but most of our days were sunny.

The first afternoon we took an exploratory hike around the town park. The trail follows the river and seems to go for several miles up into the valley. Canadians are really scary healthy!  They jog in outfits that are out of some movie and with lean lanky dogs beside them. Picture a six foot Barbie in a skin tight black and red ski outfit springing gazelle-like up a narrow hiking path with two black Dobermans running at each side and then look away so you can catch your breath.  Look at the lovely view above that one gets when resting on the bench in this park.  The bench is empty because I do not think Canadians rest.

We saw a large number of tourists from Asia throughout the area. Above is a man from Japan practicing his fly fishing. We did see a few trout in the river although he had no success during the time we watched.

On our way down the river trail and after passing a number of very fancy vacation homes just up the hill behind us we saw this evidence of bear. We never saw a bear on any of our hikes, but the rangers did post signs on various trails about grizzly activity and asking hikers to hike in groups of four only.  Common sense and keeping food to yourself and making noise is usually a safe bet.  (If Barbie is not afraid, then neither am I.)

Calgary...Calga RAH!

Calgary is referred to as Cow Town by some and having engorged the delicious beef that can be purchased in dozens of restaurants, this is no misnomer.  I did not know what to expect upon arrival at Calgary because I had never met anyone from there or talked to anyone who had traveled there.  We really were heading out to Banff at the first part of our trip, but we did spend a couple of days exploring the city on our return.


It is a very easy city to explore,  easy to walk in and not so large that you get lost.  The theater district is not dynamic like New York City but we saw a play called Panelopiad which was professionally produced,  a play based on the story of ever faithful and ever patient Penelope waiting while Odysseus was out fighting wars for Helen of Troy.  It had an all female cast that portrayed the roles of men with convincing sexiness and all had excellent singing voices that I always encounter in Canada.


The food is wonderful in the city restaurants and VERY expensive if you eat in the nicer restaurants.  We ate at one place near the theaters which we thought was 'sort of' high end.  When we arrived (early because we were still on East Coast time) we noticed a young family at a large round table toward the modern kitchen bar.  There was a young baby in a bright red high chair and food was on the floor everywhere...just like at MacDonald's.    When we quietly asked, the waitress explained why three small children were eating just across from us with their mom and dad at this fancy restaurant.  The family it appears was renting a house owned by the restaurant owner in the nicer suburbs outside of Calgary.  The owner had it listed for 4.5 mil and had not sold it.  So these folks were renting it at $20,000 Canadian a month..!  They were celebrating a birthday for the youngest who had just turned one, which was, therefore, no big deal at such a high end restaurant.  And in spite of the fact that the two older little girls had beautifully highlighted hair and were dressed like Hannah Montana, all children behaved exceptionally well and the father who looked like an ex-hockey player was totally devoted to his third daughter throughout the night.  (As an aside, hubby and I spent the most we have ever spent at a restaurant eating here and I ordered only one glass of the cheapest wine with the meal, but the food was very good.  Although $18 for a salad of organic tomatoes with buffalo mozzarella topped with a rare French chile powder and sitting on prosciutto and basil was a ridiculous price and not nearly as good as something out of my garden and from my grocery.)


Weather was in the high 70's most of the time we were in Calgary, so walking around the city was an easy adventure.  The photos below were taken from the Tower downtown that had been built when the Olympics were held there back in the 1980's.  The third photo shows how ugly suburban sprawl is alive and well in Canadian cities.  In the last photo you can see the Canadian Rockies in the distance which was our primary eventual destination.  Most of those outdoor photos of dramatic scenery in the Rockies will be posted on my other blog.

Characters #2

Travel provides the opportunity to see common things in a new light. When in unfamiliar territory, people-watching becomes an opportunity in character development and a dedicated pastime for me.  I have a few stories from my recent exploration of Western Canada, but first one last anecdote from my August trip to Baltimore, which happened on a terribly hot, hellish weekend.  We spent as much time as we could being outside walking the city, but by mid-afternoon we sought the shelter of an air-conditioned store and ended up spending money on iced drinks regardless of our carefully pre-agreed upon budget.

We had drifted down to the historic Fell's Point.  The Internet states that Fell's point has "The unique to the unusual...the conservative to the wild." Fell's Point was named after a Quaker in the 1760s which might be the reason for its extreme nature.  It certainly is an interesting part of Baltimore. I became familiar with Fell's point many years ago when visiting an indoor aquaculture facility.  My visit was to a project showing that you could grow fish in the heart of the city.   This particular weekend the air was oppressive and we decided that the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop we were passing was the best place to collapse for a while.  (No Starbucks for us!)


This shop was very small and L-shaped...a long narrow L with tables along one wall and the checkout counter and pastries and teas and coffees on the other wall.  At the base of the L were two more tables and chairs, a couch, a small corner with children's toys, and a shelf of used books and magazines.  There was a man drinking an iced drink at a table near the door where we entered.  On the sofa at the far end of the hall past most of the tables were three men passing around a guitar and playing music. One of them was very good and played and sang a familiar country tune and we listened as we let our sweat dry.


There was a nice looking dark haired man about 35 behind the counter and he was talking to a 20-something gal with a brown pony tale leaning at the edge of the counter when we walked in.  They both broke off their conversation and the young woman asked what we wanted.  We both ordered an iced chai, and my husband being the gregarious soul started up a conversation about the heat.  The man agreed how unbearable the summer had been while he fixed the tea and the gal took our money.  When I mentioned we were tourists  and wondered about the water taxis, the gal, who was quite talkative and charming, took my arm and directed me to a small brochure rack behind the door.  She was clearly knowledgeable about Baltimore as she passed various brochures my way.


While we waited for our drinks she indicated that the heat was really hard for her as she lived in a third-story apartment...with no air-conditioning!  I felt so sorry for her and my mind drifted to how working in a coffee shop must pay very little.  She said she spent most of her time trying to keep cool with a fan.


We took a nearby table and perused the water-taxi schedule and the various stops while we sipped our tea.  My back was to the door, but I could see that hubby was intrigued watching the girl and guy.  The door opened a few times more and other customers completed orders.  The guy with the guitar walked by on his way out and apologized to us for singing so loud.  We loved his music, so were surprised at this.


Then the store got quiet.  The gal was outside on the sidewalk talking to someone.  I could not hear the conversation between the man who had been sitting at the table drinking when we entered and the guy behind the counter.  But hubby was intently watching them and interpreted this for me later.


The man at the table:  "Who is she?"


The clerk:  "Hell if I know.  Maybe she is doing her laundry across the street."


The man:  "  You don't know her?  She is in here every weekend."


The clerk:  "I know...don't have a clue!"

The gal came back into the store and rearranged some of the things on the counter, collected plates from a table and moved them to the counter, and then headed to the bathroom chattering with the man behind the counter most of the time.


My husband and I just smiled and shook our heads.  Pehaps this was her way of being able to stay cool on a Sunday and avoid the lack of AC in her apartment.  She was smart and brave and opportunistic.  (My next post will be about Canada...I promise.)

Just Wondering

Wondering why your fireplace is not drawing as well as it did last fall?

Wondering why you are getting snowy TV reception so suddenly?

Wondering why your roof looks like it is covered in snow so early? (It is really gull droppings.)


(I have returned from my extensive and wonderful trip to Calgary and Banff and the Badlands of Alberta, Canada. Took hundreds of photos and will post just a few as I weed out summer's photos such as shown above! Catching up on your blogs this week...I hope!)

Autumnal Reverie

This is my favorite time of year.  Days are cool enough for roast chicken dinners.  I harvested the last of the garden vegetables and the farmers market completes the rest.  I do not mind having the oven on for over two hours to let the big bird brown as the afternoon cools.  The fall rains have started and after our two-month drought, this is like champagne from the sky.

While I can no longer run outside barefoot across the wet grass to harvest the rosemary and sage for the chicken, I also do not have to avoid the hot sidewalk on the quick return.

I can no longer watch the moon rise in my Chinese pajamas (pink "silk" which my Princess granddaughter loves) because the evenings are most chilling now on the back deck, but I can still BBQ on the deck and enjoy the earlier sunsets through the flame red and yellow trees.

Perhaps I will also finally have time to search the back seat of my car and find the injured grasshopper which my grandson saved, wrapped carefully in a napkin, and then somehow lost on our trip back from the ice cream booth this past summer.

The Luncheon

I attended a 'thank you' luncheon for my volunteering the other day. There were about 30 people there...staff and volunteers from all the county libraries. Yes, our county is quite rural with only 30 in attendance from 4 libraries.

I was not eager to go because I would only know the head of the library where I volunteered. I rarely crossed paths with the other volunteers in my library because it is so small that only one volunteer can be working at a time.  Everyone else at the luncheon would be a stranger.  But I told myself to grow up and go up.

I arrived at the restaurant about 5 minutes early and at the same time as a librarian-looking lady. I smiled at her across the parking lot assuming we were going to the same place. I entered the restaurant which was quiet and only a few tables busy and waited for a waitress or hostess.  The lady from the parking lot stood behind me and then pushed me aside gently and said, "We are supposed to go straight on back."  She huffled on ahead to a noisy room at the far end of the restaurant with not so much as a smile or look-back .

Wow, such friendliness. I put my tail between my legs and followed her to the party room. There were several long tables with a few scattered ladies sitting and talking and others standing in small groups. I looked around to see if there was a table or greeting area or name tag place. Nope. I didn't know anyone.  I stood blankly for a minute and another lady, at least she was smiling, told me to take a seat and the waitress would come take my drink order.


I crossed to the table at the far end of the room with about 4 people sitting and found a chair.  When I looked around I was happy to see the Director of the library where I volunteered seated just down from me.  The 2 women across from her were talking intently about some town festival and I sat there waiting for a pause in the conversation, or at least eye recognition from the lady I will call Trudy.  No such luck.  I sat with the stupidest smile plastered on my face pretending I was understanding whatever they were laughing about for at least 5 minutes.


Finally I caught Trudy's eye and she smiled and then introduced me to the others.  At just about this time the din of conversation in the room got quite loud.  Several more people arrived.  Librarians are a noisy group when away from the shushing of the library!!  I worked hard to hear what people were saying and to actively put in my two cents, trying to be as sociable as I could without screaming or saying what again and again.


By the time the food arrived the noise became lower as people stuffed their faces.  Only one brave man (a black man) was at a table.  The rest of the people knew each other but seemed to be in little clicks from each library.


One of my reasons for volunteering was to get to know people in the community a little better and since these people came from county wide, it probably wasn't the best venue for this goal.


I ate my lunch, and made as much small talk (which I hate, hate, hate) as I could to make nice.  At least I talked.  The other volunteer across from me only said about three sentences the whole luncheon. 


There were the traditional little speeches.  We got our little certificates and a mag-lite gift and our photos taken for the newsletter.


After about two and a half hours of this fun-filled time, I got back in the car and went home.  Still looking for some fulfillment.  Also, surprised at how being a hostess at an event such as this is a lost skill.


(Heading out for a lengthy trip to the to other side of the continent.  May not have Internet access.  Will be thinking of you and making mind posts that I am sure I will forget when I return!)

The Answers--- Read It Like You Really Care.

For those who live out-side the country, do not dismay.  The answers to some of these are U.S. news items.  (Congrats to Peruby and others who got many right!)

1. Give a speech two steps lower than a national icon and that makes it excusable. Course you are forgiven...you didn't realize it was the iconic day! (Glenn Beck)
2. It is almost 500 pages long and a pathetic excuse for a best seller.  I think Abby on NCIS is more exotic and believable than this girl. (Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  Between the sado-masochism, incest, and 50 year old protagonist with numerous girlfriends of all ages jumping into his bed...I found the mystery not worthy of my time.)
3. Guess who is the next star... young mom who needs money and is willing to use accidental fame to dance with the stars ? I do not watch so have no bets down. (Sarah Palin's oldest daughter on Dancing With the Stars.)
4. Since I have a gate and a fence (for the deer) I can expect a reasonable amount of privacy in my driveway from guess who? (Remember the news legality of searching your car even while parked in your driveway? The Feds can now also confiscate my laptop without reason at customs points and hang onto it for days while reading everything on it.)
5. I am going to get a third one it appears...but I will only have two at a time. (Yes, I have mixed feelings.) (My daughter is pregnant with the third Grandchild.  Lord help us all.)
6. It missed us, thank goodness, but not by much. (Hurricane Earl)
7. I did like the dream within a dream within a dream story.  But there were a few holes at the end. (The movie, Enception.)
8. I mashed them, then ground them in the coffee grinder and they were wonderfully pungent as well as sweet like sugar! (My cinnamon sticks from Indonesia.  These are so much more pungent than store bought!)
9. I met #3 (nothing to do with #5).  I hope this is the last one. (My son's new girlfriend spent the weekend at our house.  She is pretty cool...has won an Emmy.)
10. Someone told me the other day that when I wear the clip to pull back my bangs on a hot day I look 'ugly.' (Can you guess who?) At least there is potential for not looking ugly. (My too-honest granddaughter whose standards for beauty will get even higher as she grows older and I get uglier.)
11. Heading out for travel for a week...can you guess where? (Calgary and the nearby mountains of Canada!  Lots of photos to follow.  I will probably have some pre-written posts for you to read.  Don't want my fans bored, after all.)
12. We were given a Princess and we returned a Power Girl. (My granddaughter, of course.)
13. How much weight I have lost after a month of pretty intense exercise? (One lousy pound!!!  I run pretty close to 3 ten-minute miles on the elliptical, do 30 minutes of arm and leg free weights and then about 15 minutes of stretching and yoga at least 3 times a week although sometimes 5 times a week, in case you want to commiserate.)

Thursday Thirteen---Can You Guess? (Perhaps more relevant...Do you care?)

( I admit I am never very good at this...)

1. Give a speech two steps lower than a national icon and that makes it excusable. Course you are forgiven...you didn't realize it was the iconic day!
2. It is almost 500 pages long and a pathetic excuse for a best seller.  I think Abby on NCIS is more exotic and believable than this girl. 
3. Guess who is the next star... young mom who needs money and is willing to use accidental fame to dance with the stars ? I do not watch so have no bets down.
4. Since I have a gate and a fence (for the deer) I can expect a reasonable amount of privacy in my driveway from guess who? (Remember the news legality of searching your car ?)
5. I am going to get a third one it appears...but I will only have two at a time. (Yes, I have mixed feelings.)
6. It missed us, thank goodness, but not by much.
7. I did like the dream within a dream within a dream story.  But there were a few holes at the end.
8. I mashed them, then ground them in the coffee grinder and they were wonderfully pungent as well as sweet like sugar!
9. I met #3 (nothing to do with #5).  I hope this is the last one.
10. Someone told me the other day that when I wear the clip to pull back my bangs on a hot day I look 'ugly.' (Can you guess who?) At least there is potential for not looking ugly.
11. Heading out for travel for a week...can you guess where?
12. We were given a Princess and we returned a Power Girl.
13. How much weight I have lost after a month of pretty intense exercise?

Answers in next post.

Home Sweet Home

I have a lovely patio beneath my deck at the back of my house.  I have carefully placed some rattan furniture that we bought while living in Indonesia which I painted weather-resistant white and paired it with some plastic furniture (on it's last seasonal legs) that I inherited from my mother-in-law who lived in Florida.  I bought a cute little outdoor rug (actually fought with two gay guys over who would get to purchase it).  We have a small iron fireplace unit.  And yet, after all this careful design we use this place only a few times a year as we are busy people.




Yesterday I went out there to clean the place of leaves and spider webs to get ready for some company that were coming.  One of the faded cushions with the ties that have long since broken was flopped over and the chair was covered in wind blown leaves.

Or so I thought!  Those determined little wrens will build a nest anywhere.  I have chased them outside of my garage many times.  Fortunately there were no eggs inside this nest.  Maybe they were just practicing and this was just a 'test nest'.

Sigh!!!

I will not be posting anything for a while. I have a 3-year-old and a 5-year-old until late Thursday the 2nd and then I have company from out of state for another 4 or 5 days. Some one send me one of those energy bars...there is a reason we become sterile after a certain age!

Signs of the Times

Heading up north to take care of two really special people (you can guess who). Thought I would leave with some sign humor while I was gone. Of course, my sense of humor may leave something to be desired.

After our brief bike ride I was disappointed to see the above sign.  I always like to scare the tourists.  

You know that you live in a rural area when you see signs like this one above.  You will need to click on the photo to see what it says.

The Gift

This is a gift my husband brought me recently on his return from a long trip halfway around the world. Can you guess what it is?  Scroll down below for a better clue.

Now do you know?  Not sure how I will use it nor how to keep it fresh!  That is a lot!

I Lost It Somewhere Along the Way

While I like to think I am an upbeat and optimistic person, most people would probably describe me as a little too straight-forward, sometimes condescending and often too honest with everyone including myself.  But honesty is the best policy if you want to know where you are standing in the chaos.  Thus, I have to be open about something I lost...and may never find again.


I do not think we are dishonest with ourselves purposely.  I think it is rarely a bad habit.  I think we are dishonest with ourselves because we see ourselves through the huge thick fog of the life we have lived.  The cacophony of memories distracts and clouds any sharp view we could hope to have of who we really are at any one time.  We end up swatting at flies and eventually just shrug off any hope for the clarity we were looking for.


In our early thirties we catch a refection of ourselves and for a second think we see an aunt or uncle or parent.  Gosh do we really look that old and that adult?  When did that happen?  Well, of course, now we are adults.  That had to be.


Then in our 40's we are no longer the center of attention in the room.  Our jokes are old school or our attention span is too short because of our heavy schedule.  It seems all the fun action is happening elsewhere at the other table.


By my 50's I didn't really care so much about myself because I was focused on kids that were moving out into the world.  I was focused on saving money for the long years ahead.  I was focused on ailing parents and my responsibilities to them.  I was focused on expensive changes in lifestyles due to loved ones' college or health issues.  I was focused on trying to get a promotion to cover those expenses.


Then as I entered the 60's came the big change.   I was retired, had lots of free time, was financially secure.  I could once again focus on myself.  But I looked through my transparent self to see a nagging smoke cloud hanging just off my shoulder that I had been ignoring for quite some time.  When I admitted it was there I also had to admit that it was some depression, some sadness.  But I could not identify why?  My life now was pretty much OK.  Sure I missed loved ones that had passed on, I missed the closeness of various family members...but...what was this?


Some would tell me it is impending death.  It is the fear of the end of life.  No.  That is not it.  I realized the other day that it was a death.  The death of that vital and energetic woman who was an active mother, wife, career person.  That women who was responsible for changes being made.  That women that spoke out with solutions at meetings.  That women who remembered everything and forgot nothing.  


I guess I am sad because she is gone.  She has left behind a faded replicate.  I am still here but with nothing truly important to do anymore.  Introspection is a lovely walk, ...but when you get back home it is also nice to have something important to take care of.  Art and hobbies are gentle distractions, but it would be nice to once again accomplish something that helps others change their lives.  I miss that.  I mourn for that.

Looking for Something

Those of you who live alone have welomed this state in your life or have accepted this state in your life or have become so familiar with this life style that you are surprised that it is considered a lifestyle.

My husband has been on a long two week junket far overseas.  He loves chasing the gold ring (my interpretation--actually he wants to save the world economy one village at a time) and I like having the peace of being alone for these two weeks.  But, I am now in my 10th day and I must admit that it is getting very easy to fall into a rut.

• sleeping when and where I want
• eating when and what I want
• watching when and what I want on TV
• reading as long as I want
• spending as much time on the Internet as I like

People should only live alone if they have lots of obligations from outside family or have a job or are puritans at heart.  I am a hedonist.  (Some who know me might laugh at that...but then they don't really know me.)

Anyway, yesterday I fixed the lunch above for myself (perhaps motivated by Mindful Woman.)  We have a two-year-old fig tree and this is the first year it is beginning to produce a reasonable crop of figs.
  
These brown orbs are most exotic to me,  like some strange fruit from ancient Persia.  When I see them I think of men in turbans and robes sitting on oriental rugs and passing dates and figs on shiny brass trays.  

Figs ripen surprisingly fast, and once you pick them, you have 24 hours to eat them or they become their own version of jam or mush.  They are most delicious with blue cheese or goat cheese.  I ate this lunch very consciously and slowly the other day.  Then with the rest I made fig cake.  I am trying to be less of a slug and more of a harem girl.

I Appear to be the Butt of a Joke.

(I got this in an email and my research on the Internet says it was "submitted by Debbie, Middletown."  Needless to say I do not know Debbie.)


God Finds Out About Lawn Care
"Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four step chemical dependency.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this:

"Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles."

"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass."

"Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"

"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn."

"The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy."

"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it _ sometimes twice a week."

"They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"

"Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags."

"They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?"

"No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away."

"Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?"

"Yes, sir."

"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."

"You aren't going believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it."

"What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life."

"You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away."

"No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?"

"After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."

"And where do they get this mulch?"

"They cut down trees and grind them up."

"Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"

"Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..."

"Never mind I think I just heard the whole story."

Business

Doing
This busyness
This making of lists...

How many light switches
must be pushed
to empty the house
of nothingness?

How many
vanilla moons
ignored
for inner peace?

How many checks,
clicks,
doors closed
before it is
done,
really done?

How many
shiny surfaces
polished
to mimic
the glisten
of starlight?

Realize
the inside
is empty and
clean.

It is the
frantic fear
of time passing
that is full
and messy
with life.


(I have no idea what this means...)

Baltimore, Life in the City

In mid-August my husband and I reached the 40-year mark.  It is a big deal that two people can live together that long without losing themselves in each other, or killing each other, or pretending to live together while not really.   So we take our accolades with salted chocolate and admit luck has a significant part to play in the duration of any marriage and the breakdown of a marriage does not necessarily reflect any more immaturity than we all harbor.  We didn't want to spend a lot of money flying somewhere as Hubby had a trip coming up, so we drove north to Baltimore for the weekend.


Baltimore is a changing city.  I used to drive up there for meetings when I was working and had to make sure I got parking passes for the John Hopkins campus before heading out, because if you parked anywhere outside the campus area, it was really creepy and probably dangerous.  Like New York, you can make one wrong turn and feel very unsafe.


But I will have to admit that the last decade has been kind to Baltimore.  The harbor area has been re-vitalized with lots of high-end restaurants, fun museums, and tourist activities.  There are also inexpensive activities for families to enjoy.  We stayed in one of those expensive waterfront hotels and got nice morning and evening views across the harbor.

The bright light in the center below is the stadium where the Orioles game was being played.

This city has drama and intrigue and both "The Wire" and "Homicide: Life in the City" were filmed here reflecting the grittier side of this town.   I think Baltimore is a 'little' like New Orleans or Venice in that there are some very artistic and passionate citizens that keep the city interesting in spite of the crime and poverty that lies just beneath the surface.  The building below is where "Homicide" was filmed.

While there was much lovely restored and new architecture along the greatly improved waterfront, one did not have to walk too far before you could see the painful transitions that are still ongoing.

We ate at my one of my favorite high-end restaurant chains, Roy's. While those Roy's in Hawaii are the best, they do try to keep that Asian fusion thing going across the continent.  Italian wine, spicy edamame appetizers, a crisp Asian spinach salad, tiger shrimp on jalapeno risotto and roasted veggies followed by a wonderful creme brulee.  It may sound too eclectic, but actually it was very good, and the restaurant was only a block's walk from the hotel, so the high 90 degree temperature did not ruin the weekend.  (This was also the same weekend when I saw the art film I Am Love and one of reasons we are still married is that hubby sat through the whole thing and actually stayed awake enough to help forward the after-conversation!)

Compliments, That Fragile Gift

I was thinking of compliments the other day.  Perhaps as a result of my submitting my blog to that site for review.  Why do we we want them?  How do we get them?  How we treasure them!  Can we trust them?  I am not a good person for compliments...getting them, that is.  I do not receive them gracefully and I rarely believe them in full.  I am a reasonable cynic, although, I, of course, think that is being a realist.  Perhaps because my mother was very sparse in handing out compliments to her children.  She was an expert on the criticism sharing I remember.  I also think I am not a generous person with compliments.  If I give one, it usually has a pretty solid kernel of truth in it, or I will not give a compliment just to make someone feel better.  Unless, of course, they need one for survival at that time in their life.

My FB friends are most generous when commenting on my photos. I love that they love the photographs that I post.  But it IS like having loving friends comment.  Your friends always praise your work because they like you and want to be nice and want you to succeed or they are friends of your children and have been raised to be polite and do not really care enough about you to criticize you.  Your FB friends are complimentary because only the jokes can be derogatory.  Perhaps, they do not want to be de-friended if they were too honest!  An FB friend said my photos reminded him of Ansel Adams.  That compliment only made me smile, because I knew it wasn't true.  It wasn't even close.  But, it was a friendly, well-meant exaggeration.

Bloggers are most gracious in posting about my photos and my writing.  Their comments truly warm my soul, especially when I know many of them are far better with the camera or the computer keyboard than I could ever hope to be.  Some of them even make a living at it, the writing or photography---not giving compliments.  Therefore, while I get a big smile when I read these compliments, I also feel deep in my soul that they would never qualify their remarks with a dose of harsh honesty or even gentle criticism.  So, of course, they are only left with agreeing or praising me or perhaps reading my blog in stony white silence..."if you can't say anything nice..."

But, real compliments are the best when they come un-expected.  Sometimes they are wordless and just the expression on someone's face,  such as the time my 16-year-old son failed to shift gears successfully on the Bronco going up the inclined driveway, and I took the driver's seat and did it quite easily.  I wish I had had a camera, because I had never seen that look in his eyes before.  Admiration from a child (especially a teenager) is golden.

I overheard my daughter talking to one of her friends when they were deciding how to get pictures at the swim fun day.  She suggested asking me because she said 'my mom is a semi-professional at it.'  Gold, pure gold.

When my husband goes back for seconds at some experimental dish I have tried, I think that is a lovely compliment.  He usually says something about how good it is...but he says that often when I cook.  When he gets seconds I know he really likes it.


Yesterday, the oven repair men (young) said that I was a really nice lady when talking to me about working out the warranty issues with the company.  I somehow felt they really meant it because they had nothing to gain from me and it made me feel good about working at my negotiating skills over my life.

I wonder how other bloggers feel about comments, compliments and criticisms.  Do you need to be prepared or can anyone bring it on if it is honest and helpful?