Highland Nights
We spent four evenings at the Highlands last week, soaking up nature, seclusion, fun.
There are no houses or farms nearby so light pollution is minimal and stargazing excellent. The milky way was so intense it looked like a cloud covering the night sky. Draco dominated the night sky - you could almost see him flipping his tail. We watched the moon rise and set. We saw the occasional shooting star.
We cooked over an open fire four nights, using apple wood from FIL's pruning last year. We are not big meat eaters, so the bacon wrapped filets were a real treat. Campfire cooking is a skill - small fire, large bank of coals, potatoes buried in the hot ashes, sensing when to turn and when to bank up the coals, feeding wood into one side of the fire to ensure a constant supply of hot coals.
Years ago, Steve taught us how to get our night eyes by walking us down a path in Turkey Run and then turning off the flashlight and waiting ten minutes. The boys were about eight years old then and were more interested in the static electricity caused by rubbing their knit hats on their coats than sensing the night. Since then we have added to our repertoire of moonlight activities. Monster tag, played in the moon shadows, has been a longtime favorite. Last week we added moonlight dodge ball, played on the barn porch, It was hard to see the ball, but we got proficient at dodging the ball by judging the general body posture of whoever was It. We unintentionally played moonlight tennis at a nearby high school, as they were rennovating the tennis courts and the electricity was turned off. We would call out when we served, but usually the only hint at the location of the ball was when it hit the fence. So it turned in an hour of blind serves and chasing the ball.
Music, of course, was part of the Highland experience. The lap or mountain dulcimer is perfect for quiet campfires. We played name that tune and listened to the coyotes join in the singing.
We've had this land nine years now and enjoy the peace and seclusion. However, the 70 acres next to us has been divided into four tracts and houses will soon be built. Our trees are getting big enough to provide seclusion, but I suspect the city folks moving in will install bright security lights dimming the night sky.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Monday, June 21, 2004
Yooper
We're headed off to the UP, after Steve takes his final exam and we pack up the car. We're headed to our favorite National Forest Service campground on the shores of Whitefish Bay on Lake Superior. (Yes, that Whitefish Bay, of the Edmund Fitzgerald song.) Heavily forested, secluded, white sand beaches for miles, half acre primitive campsites but with drinking water available. Sounds wonderful until I checked the weather forecast - highs in the low 60s, lows in the low 40s, strong winds, constant rain with a few thunderstorms. The campsites are right on the lake so temps will be lower and winds stronger.
So posting will be non-existent until I get back and thaw out my fingers.
SANITY UPDATE: After discussing the weather forecast, we cancelled the trip. Who wants to spend four days in a wet, cold tent with two teenagers, a lab and spouse? Day trips are in the planning stage now.
We're headed off to the UP, after Steve takes his final exam and we pack up the car. We're headed to our favorite National Forest Service campground on the shores of Whitefish Bay on Lake Superior. (Yes, that Whitefish Bay, of the Edmund Fitzgerald song.) Heavily forested, secluded, white sand beaches for miles, half acre primitive campsites but with drinking water available. Sounds wonderful until I checked the weather forecast - highs in the low 60s, lows in the low 40s, strong winds, constant rain with a few thunderstorms. The campsites are right on the lake so temps will be lower and winds stronger.
So posting will be non-existent until I get back and thaw out my fingers.
SANITY UPDATE: After discussing the weather forecast, we cancelled the trip. Who wants to spend four days in a wet, cold tent with two teenagers, a lab and spouse? Day trips are in the planning stage now.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Teen Ambiance
It has been my goal to decorate the boys' rooms before they go to college, but my attempts have been foiled by their ideas of what their bedrooms should look like. I have given them freedom in their rooms, but I shudder at the thought of anyone going in there. Was this how my Mom felt when I was an early teen trying to "find" myself? I decorated my room in black and white. She let me paint the furniture black and make some really cool/spooky b&w jungle curtains, but she wouldn't let me paint the walls black. Of course, I wrote dark poetry in this setting. Lest I give you the wrong idea, I was also a majorette (what a strange word but better than twirler) and national champion of vegetable judging.
Back to the boys. A few simple purchases - curtains, rugs and accessories - transformed their rooms into male bastions instead of kiddy land. We still have to move in the bookshelves (from Great Grandma's estate) and chairs (that they rescued from my garage sale stash), but that will have to wait until we get back from vacation.
It has been my goal to decorate the boys' rooms before they go to college, but my attempts have been foiled by their ideas of what their bedrooms should look like. I have given them freedom in their rooms, but I shudder at the thought of anyone going in there. Was this how my Mom felt when I was an early teen trying to "find" myself? I decorated my room in black and white. She let me paint the furniture black and make some really cool/spooky b&w jungle curtains, but she wouldn't let me paint the walls black. Of course, I wrote dark poetry in this setting. Lest I give you the wrong idea, I was also a majorette (what a strange word but better than twirler) and national champion of vegetable judging.
Back to the boys. A few simple purchases - curtains, rugs and accessories - transformed their rooms into male bastions instead of kiddy land. We still have to move in the bookshelves (from Great Grandma's estate) and chairs (that they rescued from my garage sale stash), but that will have to wait until we get back from vacation.
The Quality of Mercy
Recently a childhood friend wonderingly said to my sister and me, "I can't believe your family. Your father paid you to learn Shakespeare, while my father paid me for working in the fields."
That's right. Dad did pay my sister and me to learn Shakespeare. I was in the sixth grade and I earned a quarter for knowing "The Quality of Mercy" speech perfectly. And he made me recite it until I had it word for word. I can still recite it.
After Dad's death, Mom shared with us a collection of talks he gave each Sunday when he was Sunday School Superintendent. One Sunday he talked about teaching his little girls the Mercy speech. Here's what he said about it:
Thank you, Daddy.
Recently a childhood friend wonderingly said to my sister and me, "I can't believe your family. Your father paid you to learn Shakespeare, while my father paid me for working in the fields."
That's right. Dad did pay my sister and me to learn Shakespeare. I was in the sixth grade and I earned a quarter for knowing "The Quality of Mercy" speech perfectly. And he made me recite it until I had it word for word. I can still recite it.
After Dad's death, Mom shared with us a collection of talks he gave each Sunday when he was Sunday School Superintendent. One Sunday he talked about teaching his little girls the Mercy speech. Here's what he said about it:
A famous educator was asked if limited to two textbooks what would he choose? He answered, "The Bible and Shakespeare, and when finished I would have educated men and women." In The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare weaves into his story the conflicting morality of the Old and New Testaments.
The two leading characters are Antonio, the merchant, and Shylock, a Jewish moneylender. To help a friend, Antonio borrows 3000 ducats from Shylock, who hates him. Shylock charges no interest but demands as bond a pound of flesh from Antonio if the money is not paid in three months time.
When Antonio can't pay, Shylock wants his bond--the pound of flesh. The friends of Antonio ask him not to be cruel and offer three times the debt, but of course, this is after the bond is forfeit. Shylock says, "I am a Jew! Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions, cooled and warmed by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If a Jew wrongs a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrongs a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute."
Portia, Antonio's fiance comes disguised as a doctor of laws from Rome. The Duke allows her to hear the case when told she is very learned. To start it off, Portia says the Jew must be merciful. Shylock answers, "On what compulsion must I? Tell me that."
Portia then gives her mercy speech, which is pure New Testament:The quality of mercy is not strained;
It dropeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed;
It blesses him that gives and him that takes:
"Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this scepter'd sway,-
It is enthroned in the heart of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this-
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there."
Shylock answers, "My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, the penalty and forfeit of my bond." Portia grants him his bond, but he is done in by the law and justice he craved. He can have the pound of flesh, but no blood or any more or less than a pound.
I bribed my children to learn the Mercy speech by heart. Not that they could repeat it word for word now, but that the thought and meaning would remain with them for life."
Thank you, Daddy.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Baby Birds
A few weeks ago I shared that a house sparrow built her nest in the tool box in the garage. The two eggs hatched and Mr. and Mrs. Bird are busy feeding the little ones. We leave the garage door open from morning till night and try not to disturb them, but Ron is fascinated by them and gives us regular updates of their progress.
Ron's awareness of nesting birds led to another discovery. As Ron started to mow the far side of the pond, he startled a mallard hen into flight. He then checked the ground and found a nest with six eggs, so we have another bunch of baby birds to observe. Ducks scout our pond every spring for nest building, but soon decide to move on what with boys, dog, and muskrat; so it will be fun to have ducklings on the pond.
Several years ago, a couple of red-winged blackbirds built a nest in the cattails on shallow end of the pond and have come back every year since. I love these birds from my childhood. Recently I walked around the pond and was sent running by persistent divebombing RWBs. Another pair built a nest on the opposite side of the pond.
From all this activity, you would think our pond is larger and more remote than it is. Although it is only a dinky pond within 20 feet of the house, we encourage wildlife with cattails and other natural growth around the edge of the pond. And NO CHEMICALS. To keep a healthy supply of oxygen in the pond, we aerate it with an electric compressor and pump housed in Steve's workshop. We add a natural dye to help discourage algae. And our use of chemicals on the lawn is minimal to avoid run-off into the pond. It took some experimentation over several years to achieve effective, low-effort, wildlife-friendly pond maintenance, but it was worth the effort.
A few weeks ago I shared that a house sparrow built her nest in the tool box in the garage. The two eggs hatched and Mr. and Mrs. Bird are busy feeding the little ones. We leave the garage door open from morning till night and try not to disturb them, but Ron is fascinated by them and gives us regular updates of their progress.
Ron's awareness of nesting birds led to another discovery. As Ron started to mow the far side of the pond, he startled a mallard hen into flight. He then checked the ground and found a nest with six eggs, so we have another bunch of baby birds to observe. Ducks scout our pond every spring for nest building, but soon decide to move on what with boys, dog, and muskrat; so it will be fun to have ducklings on the pond.
Several years ago, a couple of red-winged blackbirds built a nest in the cattails on shallow end of the pond and have come back every year since. I love these birds from my childhood. Recently I walked around the pond and was sent running by persistent divebombing RWBs. Another pair built a nest on the opposite side of the pond.
From all this activity, you would think our pond is larger and more remote than it is. Although it is only a dinky pond within 20 feet of the house, we encourage wildlife with cattails and other natural growth around the edge of the pond. And NO CHEMICALS. To keep a healthy supply of oxygen in the pond, we aerate it with an electric compressor and pump housed in Steve's workshop. We add a natural dye to help discourage algae. And our use of chemicals on the lawn is minimal to avoid run-off into the pond. It took some experimentation over several years to achieve effective, low-effort, wildlife-friendly pond maintenance, but it was worth the effort.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Fireflies
When Steve and I took our walk this evening, we stopped in awe to watch our meadow full of fireflies. As we continued walking in the neighborhood, we counted just three (3) fireflies in the whole mile! Coming back home, we had about three per square foot in our wildflower meadow. Our hypothesis is that lawn chemicals are killing the fireflies. The magic of fireflies or a manicured lawn - which would you choose?
When Steve and I took our walk this evening, we stopped in awe to watch our meadow full of fireflies. As we continued walking in the neighborhood, we counted just three (3) fireflies in the whole mile! Coming back home, we had about three per square foot in our wildflower meadow. Our hypothesis is that lawn chemicals are killing the fireflies. The magic of fireflies or a manicured lawn - which would you choose?
Saturday, June 12, 2004
Cherries
The birds left me some cherries this year, so I harvested them this afternoon and pitted them this evening - a long tedious job. Joy of Cooking recommends using a hairpin for pitting cherries, but I haven't seen those since beehive hairdos went out of fashion. The cherries are sitting in sugar overnight, the first step in making cherry preserves. The recipe called for a pound of sugar for each pound of sour cherries. I just guessed, so I wonder how my first attempt at cherry preserves will turn out.
The birds left me some cherries this year, so I harvested them this afternoon and pitted them this evening - a long tedious job. Joy of Cooking recommends using a hairpin for pitting cherries, but I haven't seen those since beehive hairdos went out of fashion. The cherries are sitting in sugar overnight, the first step in making cherry preserves. The recipe called for a pound of sugar for each pound of sour cherries. I just guessed, so I wonder how my first attempt at cherry preserves will turn out.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Here are some pictures from my childhood. I'm the second daughter, the one who thought spreading her skirt in a circle was glamorous.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Boys of Summer
Last week was the first week of summer vacation. Ground rules were set: work in the morning, play in the afternoon. They fell into the routine easily, and one morning I discovered Ron doing the laundry when I woke up.
This week, summer activities started. Every morning this week, they have a three hour baseball camp at the high school. One boy was reluctant to go yesterday, perhaps fearing the unknown and perhaps thinking he knew it all already, but when I picked him up, he thanked me profusely for signing him up and chattered on about everything he learned.
Wildcat baseball also started this week. This league is for the children, not the parents, so practice and games are during the day. Two other boys from the neighborhood are on the league and I am the official carpool mother.
The pool is finally ready for swimming, so I'm sure an afternoon swim after Wildcat will be added to our routine.
They are scheduled for several day trips with Campus Life. Ron signed up for several 4-H projects. We have a three day trip planned with the church to Spirit Fest at Kings Island Amusement Park. A friend gave us a fabulous deal for a week rental of her lake cottage. Ricky's going to skateboard chuch camp. Steve's taking two summer classes and the boys have a morning Algebra class for five weeks. And sometime we have to squeeze in a canoe trip in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.
Sounds like a great summer, doesn't it?
Last week was the first week of summer vacation. Ground rules were set: work in the morning, play in the afternoon. They fell into the routine easily, and one morning I discovered Ron doing the laundry when I woke up.
This week, summer activities started. Every morning this week, they have a three hour baseball camp at the high school. One boy was reluctant to go yesterday, perhaps fearing the unknown and perhaps thinking he knew it all already, but when I picked him up, he thanked me profusely for signing him up and chattered on about everything he learned.
Wildcat baseball also started this week. This league is for the children, not the parents, so practice and games are during the day. Two other boys from the neighborhood are on the league and I am the official carpool mother.
The pool is finally ready for swimming, so I'm sure an afternoon swim after Wildcat will be added to our routine.
They are scheduled for several day trips with Campus Life. Ron signed up for several 4-H projects. We have a three day trip planned with the church to Spirit Fest at Kings Island Amusement Park. A friend gave us a fabulous deal for a week rental of her lake cottage. Ricky's going to skateboard chuch camp. Steve's taking two summer classes and the boys have a morning Algebra class for five weeks. And sometime we have to squeeze in a canoe trip in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.
Sounds like a great summer, doesn't it?
Two year blogiversary
It's been just over two years since I started my first blog, under a similar URL. Here's my first post:
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
I just returned from a stroll through my garden tonight. After a day of gentle rain, the air is heavy, pure and sweet. The garden is faintly illuminated by stars, fireflies (the first of the season!) and the white flowers - columbine, daisies, iris, peonies. The heavy spice scent is from the dianthus I planted just for the fragrance, although I enjoy the small fringed flowers of palest pink on the blue-green foliage during the day. But the night is not still. Oh the noise! Noise louder than any city sounds that kept me awake in a strange hotel room during my business traveling days. Frogs. The Spring Peepers and Bullfrogs I can identify, but what is making all those other odd sounds? Crazy Eddy once gave me a tape so I could identify frogs for DNR research. I had no problem when they played one sound at a time or even two, but I could never ID the frogs when they were in full chorus.
It's been just over two years since I started my first blog, under a similar URL. Here's my first post:
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
I just returned from a stroll through my garden tonight. After a day of gentle rain, the air is heavy, pure and sweet. The garden is faintly illuminated by stars, fireflies (the first of the season!) and the white flowers - columbine, daisies, iris, peonies. The heavy spice scent is from the dianthus I planted just for the fragrance, although I enjoy the small fringed flowers of palest pink on the blue-green foliage during the day. But the night is not still. Oh the noise! Noise louder than any city sounds that kept me awake in a strange hotel room during my business traveling days. Frogs. The Spring Peepers and Bullfrogs I can identify, but what is making all those other odd sounds? Crazy Eddy once gave me a tape so I could identify frogs for DNR research. I had no problem when they played one sound at a time or even two, but I could never ID the frogs when they were in full chorus.
Splat
The Boys (as they are known to their cousins) went to a sleepover Friday night and we had the night to ourselves! We ended up with a campfire and then a ride past the Highlands. It was a cool starlit night, so the windows were down but not the top. Our tree farm, The Highlands, is in the middle of Amish country. Just talking, enjoying each other's company, driving down the gravel road, with my hand dangling out the window, I felt a huge wet bug splat against my hand.
"That was not a bug," Steve responded, "I just ran over a pile of horse manure." yuck, yuck, yuck. Luckily, we had some hand cleaner. When we stopped, the smell was overwhelming and we discovered horse poop all over the side of the Jeep. I'm so glad we didn't take the top down.
Ron laughed about this story all weekend, so I thought I would remind him of a trip to the zoo when he was seven years old. We were watching a raptor show in the outdoor amphitheater...you know what's coming. I looked at Ron's shocked face and saw runny white stuff all over his head. I tucked him under my arm (can't do that now) and dashed to the restroom. Luckily his hair was very short.
Ron laughed about this story, "You know, that's real funny now looking back at it." Ahh the perspectives we gain with time, even when we are only 14 years old.
The Boys (as they are known to their cousins) went to a sleepover Friday night and we had the night to ourselves! We ended up with a campfire and then a ride past the Highlands. It was a cool starlit night, so the windows were down but not the top. Our tree farm, The Highlands, is in the middle of Amish country. Just talking, enjoying each other's company, driving down the gravel road, with my hand dangling out the window, I felt a huge wet bug splat against my hand.
"That was not a bug," Steve responded, "I just ran over a pile of horse manure." yuck, yuck, yuck. Luckily, we had some hand cleaner. When we stopped, the smell was overwhelming and we discovered horse poop all over the side of the Jeep. I'm so glad we didn't take the top down.
Ron laughed about this story all weekend, so I thought I would remind him of a trip to the zoo when he was seven years old. We were watching a raptor show in the outdoor amphitheater...you know what's coming. I looked at Ron's shocked face and saw runny white stuff all over his head. I tucked him under my arm (can't do that now) and dashed to the restroom. Luckily his hair was very short.
Ron laughed about this story, "You know, that's real funny now looking back at it." Ahh the perspectives we gain with time, even when we are only 14 years old.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
The Night Before Yesterday
The night before yesterday, we went to the drive-in. The first film was Cody Banks and the second film was The Day After Tomorrow.
The temperature dropped to the mid-50s (no tornadoes, hailstorms or tidal waves though), but we had provisions: pizza, drinks, blankets and pillows. The boys made a warm bed in the back of the Suburban with the hatch up while Mom and Dad were outside on lawn chairs swathed in a shared sleeping bag. The first film was a mindless comedy with enough laughs to make it enjoyable.
No one told me that both films were comedies. How could they deliver their lines with straight faces? Stop reading if you haven't seen TDAT, but I'd suggest saving your money.
First the survival parody.
Why in the world did the father go into the storm? There was nothing he could do to save his son. He already told him to stay inside. Duh! We always go for a cross country hike in a blizzard. Of course, it was the police who led the victims to their frozen fate. Just can't trust trained rescue workers, I guess.
Why did they burn the books and leave all those wooden library chairs and tables that would have made a warmer, longer lasting fire?
And it was amazing that the fireplace worked after a 100 years of disuse. Makes me wonder why we bother cleaning our chimney.
Wolves! Come on now. Why would they attack the three boys when lots of frozen food was readily available. And I suspect any self-respecting wolf would seek shelter when temperatures drop to 150 degrees below.
Of course, the few brainy teenagers survived in a public library through their wits while the experienced Scot scientists already provisioned for cold weather stoically faced their death with 12 year old scotch.
We saw steel doors freeze almost instantly when the artic freeze hit after a torrential downpour and tidal wave. However, none of the characters had much trouble opening the doors. Has anyone tried to open a car door after a rain and then a freeze? Also there was a lot of bare skin, but no one got frost bite.
And will the internet be the last link to civilization?
OK, a nod to the political messages, although I've seen more thorough discussions of this aspect of the movie. The President, a fearless captain, stoically was the last man out of Washington, unlike Bush on 9/11. Of course, when he finally decided to escape, he died outside the city. You see, only environmentalists are savvy enough to travel prepared.
Closing the Mexican border to US refugees was a nice touch. Walk a mile in my shoes, eh?
But the best laugh came when the scientist-hero confronted and reprimanded now President Dick Cheney for not doing anything to cut greenhouse gases the day before when he was warned of the impact of global warning. What was he suppose to do in one day?
The boys thought it was a great movie; first end-of-the-world film they have seen, I suppose. On the way home, Ricky mused, "The world is changing, Mom. Terrorism. Gas Prices. And now..." Global warming went unsaid. "Yes, the world does change and you adapt, change with it, son." I wish I could keep their childhood security, but I really want them to grow in wisdom and stature in the eyes of God and men. (paraphrase of Luke 2:52 - "And Jesus kept increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.")
This movie reminded me of a childhood fear. When I learned about the Ice Age, I thought it happened quickly. I imagined giant glaciers of ice, rock and gravel rolling over my childhood home. Around middle school, I realized how slow it happened. This was about the same time I realized that the seal hidden in Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper was not an animal. I just couldn't figure out how the seal survived without water and food and why no one heard it barking. Both misconceptions came from reading beyond my comprehension level.
The night before yesterday, we went to the drive-in. The first film was Cody Banks and the second film was The Day After Tomorrow.
The temperature dropped to the mid-50s (no tornadoes, hailstorms or tidal waves though), but we had provisions: pizza, drinks, blankets and pillows. The boys made a warm bed in the back of the Suburban with the hatch up while Mom and Dad were outside on lawn chairs swathed in a shared sleeping bag. The first film was a mindless comedy with enough laughs to make it enjoyable.
No one told me that both films were comedies. How could they deliver their lines with straight faces? Stop reading if you haven't seen TDAT, but I'd suggest saving your money.
First the survival parody.
Why in the world did the father go into the storm? There was nothing he could do to save his son. He already told him to stay inside. Duh! We always go for a cross country hike in a blizzard. Of course, it was the police who led the victims to their frozen fate. Just can't trust trained rescue workers, I guess.
Why did they burn the books and leave all those wooden library chairs and tables that would have made a warmer, longer lasting fire?
And it was amazing that the fireplace worked after a 100 years of disuse. Makes me wonder why we bother cleaning our chimney.
Wolves! Come on now. Why would they attack the three boys when lots of frozen food was readily available. And I suspect any self-respecting wolf would seek shelter when temperatures drop to 150 degrees below.
Of course, the few brainy teenagers survived in a public library through their wits while the experienced Scot scientists already provisioned for cold weather stoically faced their death with 12 year old scotch.
We saw steel doors freeze almost instantly when the artic freeze hit after a torrential downpour and tidal wave. However, none of the characters had much trouble opening the doors. Has anyone tried to open a car door after a rain and then a freeze? Also there was a lot of bare skin, but no one got frost bite.
And will the internet be the last link to civilization?
OK, a nod to the political messages, although I've seen more thorough discussions of this aspect of the movie. The President, a fearless captain, stoically was the last man out of Washington, unlike Bush on 9/11. Of course, when he finally decided to escape, he died outside the city. You see, only environmentalists are savvy enough to travel prepared.
Closing the Mexican border to US refugees was a nice touch. Walk a mile in my shoes, eh?
But the best laugh came when the scientist-hero confronted and reprimanded now President Dick Cheney for not doing anything to cut greenhouse gases the day before when he was warned of the impact of global warning. What was he suppose to do in one day?
The boys thought it was a great movie; first end-of-the-world film they have seen, I suppose. On the way home, Ricky mused, "The world is changing, Mom. Terrorism. Gas Prices. And now..." Global warming went unsaid. "Yes, the world does change and you adapt, change with it, son." I wish I could keep their childhood security, but I really want them to grow in wisdom and stature in the eyes of God and men. (paraphrase of Luke 2:52 - "And Jesus kept increasing in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.")
This movie reminded me of a childhood fear. When I learned about the Ice Age, I thought it happened quickly. I imagined giant glaciers of ice, rock and gravel rolling over my childhood home. Around middle school, I realized how slow it happened. This was about the same time I realized that the seal hidden in Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper was not an animal. I just couldn't figure out how the seal survived without water and food and why no one heard it barking. Both misconceptions came from reading beyond my comprehension level.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Saturday, May 29, 2004
Fragrance
This spring I've described my garden several times, but I might as well have posted a picture (if I had that capability) because I never mentioned senses other than sight. While the colors, textures and foliage of the garden strikes you first, just sit on the bench and let the other senses explore the beauty.
Now breathe in the fragrance of the garden. Dianthus Essex Witch casts a strong spice fragrance competing with the wild rose from the woods. The earliest fragrant plant are the hyacinths, followed by Viburnum carlessi, which is intoxicating. I especially like to open the windows in early spring and let it drift through the house. Another wild plant kicks in after the Viburnum, the strong honey scent of Russian Olive. Then the lilacs. Coming up are the oriental lilies and fragrant old roses. I haven't even mentioned the smell of spring - warming earth.
You are still seated on that garden bench and what do you feel? The warm sun and the gentle breeze on your skin. Unfortunately, with the warm weather upon us, you may feel the bite of a deerfly if you sit too long. Of course, if you were kneeling on the ground with your hands buried in the soil, your sense of feel and smell are fully engaged with the warm tilth.
The sound of the wind through the trees, the call of the birds, the gurgle of Usually Not Creek, the rustle of plant leaves, the buzz of insects have a way of calming the spirit.
You'd better open your eyes for treating the taste buds. You could test the herbs - thyme, chives, mint - or you could try some edible flowers or, better yet, walk into the meadow where the asparagus, berries, rhubarb and fruit are growing.
This spring I've described my garden several times, but I might as well have posted a picture (if I had that capability) because I never mentioned senses other than sight. While the colors, textures and foliage of the garden strikes you first, just sit on the bench and let the other senses explore the beauty.
Now breathe in the fragrance of the garden. Dianthus Essex Witch casts a strong spice fragrance competing with the wild rose from the woods. The earliest fragrant plant are the hyacinths, followed by Viburnum carlessi, which is intoxicating. I especially like to open the windows in early spring and let it drift through the house. Another wild plant kicks in after the Viburnum, the strong honey scent of Russian Olive. Then the lilacs. Coming up are the oriental lilies and fragrant old roses. I haven't even mentioned the smell of spring - warming earth.
You are still seated on that garden bench and what do you feel? The warm sun and the gentle breeze on your skin. Unfortunately, with the warm weather upon us, you may feel the bite of a deerfly if you sit too long. Of course, if you were kneeling on the ground with your hands buried in the soil, your sense of feel and smell are fully engaged with the warm tilth.
The sound of the wind through the trees, the call of the birds, the gurgle of Usually Not Creek, the rustle of plant leaves, the buzz of insects have a way of calming the spirit.
You'd better open your eyes for treating the taste buds. You could test the herbs - thyme, chives, mint - or you could try some edible flowers or, better yet, walk into the meadow where the asparagus, berries, rhubarb and fruit are growing.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
Abortion
I haven't addressed controverial issues on this blog, but this post by Dean Esmay struck a chord. Even when I was a young, budding feminist and unduly influenced by popular opionions, I had mixed emotions about abortion. I'm sure it was related to the sense of horror I felt when I learned about abortion as a young teen from reading a Life magazine article about back alley butchers. We were a family that loved babies, and we still do. As I grew older, several women confided in me their post-abortion pain. Every single one was given no choice by the father. One was taken to another state by her husband, crying the whole way. She told the doctor she did not want an abortion but she was given no choice.
I am against abortion on demand. How can any thinking rational person claim this is not a baby; but even if you remove the inflammatory "killing babies" statement from a discussion of abortion, why do we never hear about the lasting emotional damage to the mother?
I haven't addressed controverial issues on this blog, but this post by Dean Esmay struck a chord. Even when I was a young, budding feminist and unduly influenced by popular opionions, I had mixed emotions about abortion. I'm sure it was related to the sense of horror I felt when I learned about abortion as a young teen from reading a Life magazine article about back alley butchers. We were a family that loved babies, and we still do. As I grew older, several women confided in me their post-abortion pain. Every single one was given no choice by the father. One was taken to another state by her husband, crying the whole way. She told the doctor she did not want an abortion but she was given no choice.
I am against abortion on demand. How can any thinking rational person claim this is not a baby; but even if you remove the inflammatory "killing babies" statement from a discussion of abortion, why do we never hear about the lasting emotional damage to the mother?
Feathered Friends
Yesterday I watched a meadowlark outside the window. At first I thought it was a goldfinch because of the bright yellow, but it was much much too big for a finch. Steve also saw it recently in the same area, so perhaps it has made a nest nearby. Today we discovered that a sparrow made a nest and laid one egg on the top of the tool chest in the garage. Now what do we do? Usually we close the door unless we are working around the yard. I guess we will have to leave it open long enough for mama to feed the baby when it hatches. I thought I saw a hummingbird in the flower garden, but it turned out to be a hummingbird moth.
UPDATE: I just walked outside in time to see a male and a female redwing blackbird chase a blue heron out of the pond where their nest is.
Yesterday I watched a meadowlark outside the window. At first I thought it was a goldfinch because of the bright yellow, but it was much much too big for a finch. Steve also saw it recently in the same area, so perhaps it has made a nest nearby. Today we discovered that a sparrow made a nest and laid one egg on the top of the tool chest in the garage. Now what do we do? Usually we close the door unless we are working around the yard. I guess we will have to leave it open long enough for mama to feed the baby when it hatches. I thought I saw a hummingbird in the flower garden, but it turned out to be a hummingbird moth.
UPDATE: I just walked outside in time to see a male and a female redwing blackbird chase a blue heron out of the pond where their nest is.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
Mom's home!
81 years old and she can still safely drive 12 hours to visit her family; she even handled a minor car repair on the way. I can't wait until she moves back. Does anyone want to buy a retirement home in the Ozarks?
So far she has watched her grandchild play her last tennis match of high school, attended her 64th class reunion, attended the confirmation of her great-grandchild, celebrated the graduation of her grandchild. Yesterday we visited while everyone else was working and today my sister, my mother and I are either going on a garden walk (if good weather) or to the Art Museum (if foul weather).
81 years old and she can still safely drive 12 hours to visit her family; she even handled a minor car repair on the way. I can't wait until she moves back. Does anyone want to buy a retirement home in the Ozarks?
So far she has watched her grandchild play her last tennis match of high school, attended her 64th class reunion, attended the confirmation of her great-grandchild, celebrated the graduation of her grandchild. Yesterday we visited while everyone else was working and today my sister, my mother and I are either going on a garden walk (if good weather) or to the Art Museum (if foul weather).
Monday, May 24, 2004
Farewell Middle School
This is the last week of middle school for my boys. They are off to the Freshman Campus of the high school next fall. When I was in school (and the earth's crust was cool not warm then) most of my classmates were given 8th grade graduation parties with nice watches or pens to commemorate the accomplishment. I can't believe I have a foot in a world that celebrated 8 years of education and the other foot in a world that expects college or even graduate school. My parents, by the way, had both of their feet in the college expectation world.
The principal and assistant principal were chatting with me the other day about my boys' middle school exploits. One said, "There are certain kids you never forget, and I will always remember these boys." But then he added, "That can be good or bad." He assured me it was good.
This is the last week of middle school for my boys. They are off to the Freshman Campus of the high school next fall. When I was in school (and the earth's crust was cool not warm then) most of my classmates were given 8th grade graduation parties with nice watches or pens to commemorate the accomplishment. I can't believe I have a foot in a world that celebrated 8 years of education and the other foot in a world that expects college or even graduate school. My parents, by the way, had both of their feet in the college expectation world.
The principal and assistant principal were chatting with me the other day about my boys' middle school exploits. One said, "There are certain kids you never forget, and I will always remember these boys." But then he added, "That can be good or bad." He assured me it was good.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
It was a fun week of entertaining, culminating in a "tea" Sunday for my sister, her husband and another couple, except I forgot to restock my tea supplies so we had coffee spiked with Amaretto. No one complained.
Now it's time to tackle some of the jobs that have been piling up. The swimming pool needs opened, but there are numerous tree frogs clinging to the sides with thousands of tadpoles in the water. Before I dump the chemicals in the pool, I need to move as many frogs and tadpoles as I can to our pond.
Steve and the boys started the spring mowing at the Highlands (our tree farm) last weekend and yesterday Steve and I spent four hours clearing brambles between the trees. It was hot, hard, dirty work, but we were compensated by the beautiful day, the aerial antics of the birds, the companionship of quiet work with someone you love, and a large section of cleared land. I think our society is poorer for the loss of working hard together as a family to benefit the family unit.
Now it's time to tackle some of the jobs that have been piling up. The swimming pool needs opened, but there are numerous tree frogs clinging to the sides with thousands of tadpoles in the water. Before I dump the chemicals in the pool, I need to move as many frogs and tadpoles as I can to our pond.
Steve and the boys started the spring mowing at the Highlands (our tree farm) last weekend and yesterday Steve and I spent four hours clearing brambles between the trees. It was hot, hard, dirty work, but we were compensated by the beautiful day, the aerial antics of the birds, the companionship of quiet work with someone you love, and a large section of cleared land. I think our society is poorer for the loss of working hard together as a family to benefit the family unit.
Friday, May 14, 2004
Women Friends
I am so blessed to have close women friends. This morning I hosted the book club (9 women) and tonight my women's group is meeting here for dinner (9 women, no overlap). The house is clean, the table is set, food prep is done and I have about ten free minutes.
When I was going through a rough time after losing my job, my counselor gave me another way to think about myself. She said people are attracted to like people, so consider my friends - their intellect, humor, grace, kindness, integrity, joy in life - and then try to apply those attributes to myself and see if they stick.
Oh, the comfort,
the inexpressible comfort
of feeling safe with a person:
having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,
but to pour them out,
just as they are,
chaff and grain together,
knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping,
and then, with the breath of kindness,
blow the rest away.
George Eliot
I am so blessed to have close women friends. This morning I hosted the book club (9 women) and tonight my women's group is meeting here for dinner (9 women, no overlap). The house is clean, the table is set, food prep is done and I have about ten free minutes.
When I was going through a rough time after losing my job, my counselor gave me another way to think about myself. She said people are attracted to like people, so consider my friends - their intellect, humor, grace, kindness, integrity, joy in life - and then try to apply those attributes to myself and see if they stick.
Oh, the comfort,
the inexpressible comfort
of feeling safe with a person:
having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,
but to pour them out,
just as they are,
chaff and grain together,
knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping,
and then, with the breath of kindness,
blow the rest away.
George Eliot
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Half Boy
The Amish in the area have a saying about having boys work for you: One boy, one boy. Two boys, half boy. Three boys, no boy. That means with twin boys, I only have half a boy. And that was their level of judgment tonight.
One twin is careful and precise; the other is impulsive. One has the privilege of using the riding mower while we are still working on the driving skills of the other.
Steve is paddling in Michigan, so I left the boys by themselves while I ran some errands and picked up a pizza. What a bucolic scene when I left: the sun just came out after the rain and the boys were playing catch. When I got home less than an hour later, that sure had changed.
While I was gone, they decided to mow the meadow even though they are not allowed to use power machines or tools without supervision and the careful twin decided he was going to teach the impulsive twin how to drive. When I pulled in the driveway, the mower was going 90 miles an hour (at least that’s what it seemed like) with the impulsive boy driving while the careful boy was hanging on the back yelling for him to stop. Well, stop they did. Stopped by the large trailer full of stone. No one was hurt, thank God. The mower has a huge dent in the front and the hood doesn’t close, but it still runs. They wanted to fix it after dinner with a hammer, but I thought enough damage was done.
Now what I don’t understand was their reaction. “Boy, are we going to be in trouble with Dad.” What about the trouble they were in with me? Somehow Dad’s discipline counts more than Mom’s.
The Amish in the area have a saying about having boys work for you: One boy, one boy. Two boys, half boy. Three boys, no boy. That means with twin boys, I only have half a boy. And that was their level of judgment tonight.
One twin is careful and precise; the other is impulsive. One has the privilege of using the riding mower while we are still working on the driving skills of the other.
Steve is paddling in Michigan, so I left the boys by themselves while I ran some errands and picked up a pizza. What a bucolic scene when I left: the sun just came out after the rain and the boys were playing catch. When I got home less than an hour later, that sure had changed.
While I was gone, they decided to mow the meadow even though they are not allowed to use power machines or tools without supervision and the careful twin decided he was going to teach the impulsive twin how to drive. When I pulled in the driveway, the mower was going 90 miles an hour (at least that’s what it seemed like) with the impulsive boy driving while the careful boy was hanging on the back yelling for him to stop. Well, stop they did. Stopped by the large trailer full of stone. No one was hurt, thank God. The mower has a huge dent in the front and the hood doesn’t close, but it still runs. They wanted to fix it after dinner with a hammer, but I thought enough damage was done.
Now what I don’t understand was their reaction. “Boy, are we going to be in trouble with Dad.” What about the trouble they were in with me? Somehow Dad’s discipline counts more than Mom’s.
Saturday, May 08, 2004
Garden Party
The first guest arrived at 8 am, an hour early. I put her to work getting ready for 38 women, 1 man and 4 children. Most left around noon with trunks packed with new plants, but family stuck around and talked until about 1:30. At 2:30, my last guest arrived. She had a conflict in the morning but dropped by with her husband and children (not included in guest count). We caught tadpoles and I showed them the Stupid Catfish Trick.
I’m exhausted from getting ready, hosting such a large group, and the heat of the day, and I still have most of my booty to plant. My sister, who knows me well, brought me a hostess gift I’ve long wanted - a tree peony. That baby went in the garden right away, after I removed an English rose that had reverted to rootstock. During the exchange I received a toad lily, Basket of Gold, aster, white daylily, 3 pussy willows, a different type of sedum, catnip for King Kitty, ornamental pepper, white loosestrife (yes I know it will need contained somehow), bee balm plus more. As one guest put it, “I know spring has arrived.”
Another friend gave me a new book, "Passalong Plants," which I'm anxious to read. But first I must finish "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down," an excellent book we are reading for book club next week.
The first guest arrived at 8 am, an hour early. I put her to work getting ready for 38 women, 1 man and 4 children. Most left around noon with trunks packed with new plants, but family stuck around and talked until about 1:30. At 2:30, my last guest arrived. She had a conflict in the morning but dropped by with her husband and children (not included in guest count). We caught tadpoles and I showed them the Stupid Catfish Trick.
I’m exhausted from getting ready, hosting such a large group, and the heat of the day, and I still have most of my booty to plant. My sister, who knows me well, brought me a hostess gift I’ve long wanted - a tree peony. That baby went in the garden right away, after I removed an English rose that had reverted to rootstock. During the exchange I received a toad lily, Basket of Gold, aster, white daylily, 3 pussy willows, a different type of sedum, catnip for King Kitty, ornamental pepper, white loosestrife (yes I know it will need contained somehow), bee balm plus more. As one guest put it, “I know spring has arrived.”
Another friend gave me a new book, "Passalong Plants," which I'm anxious to read. But first I must finish "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down," an excellent book we are reading for book club next week.
Friday, May 07, 2004
Annual Perennial Garden Party
Tomorrow is my annual perennial garden party. At the break of day, about 25 women are bringing starts from their garden and sharing with each other. They are also providing a bountiful breakfast feast. All I have to do is clean my house, garden and garage (in case of rain).
My husband wonders why I entertain because I go into a frenzy (thereby throwing the household into a frenzy) getting ready. He doesn't understand that such events force me to wash the windows, clean the door sills and all those things that get overlooked in my regular housekeeping routine.
And I love this garden party. I invite friends from church, from book club, from Group (I really should share about Group), from former jobs, from family, and lifelong friends. And I encourage them to invite their friends and family. We all share a passion for plants, and it's fun watching these bright, interesting beautiful women connect with flowers as the icebreaker.
Another joy is the young women who come to get plants for their first gardens and then getting updates from them as the years pass. They are the most enthusiastic because the wonder of gardening is still fresh.
Well, off to untangle the cords under the PC (as if someone will look or even care tomorrow.)
Tomorrow is my annual perennial garden party. At the break of day, about 25 women are bringing starts from their garden and sharing with each other. They are also providing a bountiful breakfast feast. All I have to do is clean my house, garden and garage (in case of rain).
My husband wonders why I entertain because I go into a frenzy (thereby throwing the household into a frenzy) getting ready. He doesn't understand that such events force me to wash the windows, clean the door sills and all those things that get overlooked in my regular housekeeping routine.
And I love this garden party. I invite friends from church, from book club, from Group (I really should share about Group), from former jobs, from family, and lifelong friends. And I encourage them to invite their friends and family. We all share a passion for plants, and it's fun watching these bright, interesting beautiful women connect with flowers as the icebreaker.
Another joy is the young women who come to get plants for their first gardens and then getting updates from them as the years pass. They are the most enthusiastic because the wonder of gardening is still fresh.
Well, off to untangle the cords under the PC (as if someone will look or even care tomorrow.)
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Erotica
On the way home from the Spring Fine Arts Festival at the middle school, one son and a neighbor boy climbed to the very back of the Suburban. Son asked if he could turn on the reading light because he wanted to read the Bible to his friend. Of course, I gave permission. Glancing in the rearview mirror, though, my mother instincts went on full alert when I saw them huddled together whispering.
"What are you reading?"
"Proverbs."
Good. Wisdom literature. Practical life stuff. "Read it to me, please," I ask.
So he read Proverbs 5:19:
As a loving hind and a graceful doe,
Let her breasts satisfy you at all times;
Be exhilarated always with her love.
At bedtime, I explained that this passage was about remaining faithful to your wife, so it was good, wise and practical stuff for a 14 year old to ponder.
On the way home from the Spring Fine Arts Festival at the middle school, one son and a neighbor boy climbed to the very back of the Suburban. Son asked if he could turn on the reading light because he wanted to read the Bible to his friend. Of course, I gave permission. Glancing in the rearview mirror, though, my mother instincts went on full alert when I saw them huddled together whispering.
"What are you reading?"
"Proverbs."
Good. Wisdom literature. Practical life stuff. "Read it to me, please," I ask.
So he read Proverbs 5:19:
As a loving hind and a graceful doe,
Let her breasts satisfy you at all times;
Be exhilarated always with her love.
At bedtime, I explained that this passage was about remaining faithful to your wife, so it was good, wise and practical stuff for a 14 year old to ponder.
Monday, May 03, 2004
Foraging
Under the influence of my sister's friend Kathy and after reading this blog, here is the menu I planned for dinner: chicken casserole, garlic mustard greens, cattail shoots and a salad with redbud blossoms. My husband noticed the menu on the counter among my other lists and said, "Well, the chicken casserole sounds good." I did serve the cattail shoots and we all decided that it was rather tasteless.
Under the influence of my sister's friend Kathy and after reading this blog, here is the menu I planned for dinner: chicken casserole, garlic mustard greens, cattail shoots and a salad with redbud blossoms. My husband noticed the menu on the counter among my other lists and said, "Well, the chicken casserole sounds good." I did serve the cattail shoots and we all decided that it was rather tasteless.
Food Chain
As I bent to pull a weed from under my daylilies, I sensed a snake nearby that seemed to have a puffed up head like a cobra. With a scream, I leaped out of the garden bed and the males of my house came running. Looking closer, we discovered a smallish garter snake with a large toad in its mouth.
My inclination was to pick up the snake and shake the toad out. I just finished reading "A Country Year" by Sue Hubbell and she used this technique to rescue a baby phoebe, knowing that "As a human being I am a great meddler; I fiddle, alter, modify. This is neither good nor bad, merely human, in the same way that the snake who eats mice and phoebes is merely serpentish. But being human I have the kind of mind which can recognize that when I fiddle and twitch any part of the circle there are reverberations throughout the whole."
So I did not meddle this time, partly because Steve said the toad would not live anyway. We watched off and on the whole day; the neighbor boys came over to check it out. The boys were setting odds on whether the snake could swallow the toad. We never found out. The next day all evidence was gone.
Both garter snakes and toads are beneficial in the garden. I'm glad they are there, but I wish they would stay in their own 'hoods.
As I bent to pull a weed from under my daylilies, I sensed a snake nearby that seemed to have a puffed up head like a cobra. With a scream, I leaped out of the garden bed and the males of my house came running. Looking closer, we discovered a smallish garter snake with a large toad in its mouth.
My inclination was to pick up the snake and shake the toad out. I just finished reading "A Country Year" by Sue Hubbell and she used this technique to rescue a baby phoebe, knowing that "As a human being I am a great meddler; I fiddle, alter, modify. This is neither good nor bad, merely human, in the same way that the snake who eats mice and phoebes is merely serpentish. But being human I have the kind of mind which can recognize that when I fiddle and twitch any part of the circle there are reverberations throughout the whole."
So I did not meddle this time, partly because Steve said the toad would not live anyway. We watched off and on the whole day; the neighbor boys came over to check it out. The boys were setting odds on whether the snake could swallow the toad. We never found out. The next day all evidence was gone.
Both garter snakes and toads are beneficial in the garden. I'm glad they are there, but I wish they would stay in their own 'hoods.
Big Man on Campus
Ricky went with his church group to a large gathering (hundreds) of middle schoolers at Indiana Wesleyan College Friday and Saturday. Here are the reports I got:
"Ricky knew everyone--kids, adults and even the college students."
"Ricky was introducing people to other people all night long."
"Other youth pastors were seeking me out because they wanted to meet Ricky's youth pastor."
He came home with screen names written all up and down his arms and phone numbers in his pocket.
Our greatest strength is often our greatest weakness. Ricky's social skills will serve him well (and I'm curious to see how his life turns out), as long as socialization doesn't interfere with the task at hand. "Talks too much" was written on almost every report card he received in grade school.
Ricky went with his church group to a large gathering (hundreds) of middle schoolers at Indiana Wesleyan College Friday and Saturday. Here are the reports I got:
"Ricky knew everyone--kids, adults and even the college students."
"Ricky was introducing people to other people all night long."
"Other youth pastors were seeking me out because they wanted to meet Ricky's youth pastor."
He came home with screen names written all up and down his arms and phone numbers in his pocket.
Our greatest strength is often our greatest weakness. Ricky's social skills will serve him well (and I'm curious to see how his life turns out), as long as socialization doesn't interfere with the task at hand. "Talks too much" was written on almost every report card he received in grade school.
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