Seniors

Above: Blue Ridge Christian Academy. My grandfather, the Christian Scientist, frequently used that expression when confronted with anti-science dolts. I immediately knew it had to be the title of this piece. I can do no better than to simply quote my local newspaper, the Greenville News, about this latest horror. And to the rest of Blogdonia, Tumblr, all points of the internet and beyond, let me underscore it: SEE WHAT WE PUT UP WITH AROUND HERE? This is why I often do not take your intramural lefty-theoretical squabbles seriously. In these parts, we are still dealing with the freaking Scopes trial. The title of the Greenville News account is Blue Ridge quiz ignites firestorm, accompanied by the coy subtitle, Furor brings attention, but possibly salvation. This is a cute example of how the Greenville News always tries to have it both ways. As is evident in the article below, this phrase could refer to 'salvation of the school itself'--which was ready to go belly-up financially... OR it could mean, literally, the way to Salvation with a capital S. (article is credited to Lyn Riddle, staff writer) Which meaning is intended? You decide:It was labeled “4th grade science quiz. Dinosaurs: Genesis and the Gospel.” Eighteen questions. The first four were true or false. The earth is billions of years old. A lopsided pencil mark circled false. Dinosaurs lived millions of years ago, another circle: false. It went on from there, testing students on the beginning of the world according to creationism, the belief that the literal interpretation of the first book of the Bible explains it all. Both were marked correct. Before long, the quiz was posted on the social news website Reddit, unleashing a firestorm of criticism on Blue Ridge Christian Academy, a tiny private Christian school in northern Greenville County. In what board chair Joy Hartsell says shows God is at work in the world, the controversy may be what saves the school from closing. About six weeks ago, parents were told that the school would close May 31 because the founder and major donor would no longer make up the loss in operating expenses, said Diana Baker, the director. “We may have found the path to get the money,” Hartsell said Friday. So far, about $10,000 toward the $200,000 needed to stay open next fall has been received and more checks arrive in the mail every day, Baker said. She said she received a $3,000 check on Thursday.Cue my grandfather's phrase, the title of this blog post. Fundies to the rescue! Knuckleheads of the world, unite! The rest of the article makes it clear that the sheltered and ignorant denizens of Blue Ridge Academy have never even seen Reddit before. Someone obviously unleashed the "DIAF" meme, which made them hyperventilate and call the sheriff's office. Do you believe? If I had called the sheriff every time someone online wished a nasty death on me... well, the Greenville County sheriff would be permanently camped out in my kitchen. But yes, pick a fight with stupidity and then howl when the world takes you seriously, as I have said numerous times, is the usual fundamentalist technique. Your thoughts?

I was in Hawaii last week, don’t ask, it rained almost the whole time.  It was still fun because we were there with fun friends.  We all made the best of it.  But part of me did wonder why I was spending so much money to be somewhere else when the weather was so much better back at home.    It used to be that the only part of traveling that I didn’t like was that I missed my doggy back home.  I worried about her.  Oh and guilt, I had much of that too, worry and guilt.  Toward the end of those past trips, I got more and more anxious to get back home to make sure she was ok.  I was always so happy to see that everything was fine when I got home.  Although after greeting me joyfully, she would catch herself and move to ignoring me for several hours just to remind me how mad she was that we left her.  I did mention the guilt, right?  Those Beagles are clever. I have to admit that trips have been much more enjoyable over the last several years since we haven’t had a furry friend back home to worry about.  Even though our days back home outnumber those on the road, this has been my biggest hurdle to adopting another dog.  But on this trip, I had another yearning for home, even before it started raining.  I missed my piano.  Really, I had piano withdrawals.  So I downloaded “Music Theory for Dummies” onto my iPad so I could still do something that felt like learning the piano.  That made it worse.  I just wanted to practice everything I was learning about building chords.  To hear what some of the minor scales sounded like on the piano, I used Garage Band on my computer.   Since I’ve been home, I’ve been practicing about three or four hours a day.  It’s all I want to do. So now I’m thinking that my passion for travel has been overtaken by my passion for piano.  And if I’m not as hot on travel anymore, if I just want to be home with my piano, then maybe it’s ok to get a dog too.   I guess I'll have more time to reflect on which passions pull hardest when we spend a month in New York this summer.  But in the meantime, a reader sent me this picture of his best friend.  I know, who could resist that face, right?  So yes, it is making me seriously consider his advice to just "get the puppy!"   Related Posts:     What's on Your Bucket List?     What Five Things Make You Most Happy (and Why Aren't You Doing Them?)     Enjoying Retirement with Doggies   Be ready when Google’s feed reader shuts down.  Subscribe by email—it’s free! (Photo credit:  Thanks to Kirk B. for the temptation!)

Shady Bed, early spring Every morning I head out, weeder in hand, to look at my garden and see what's happening out among the plants. I stare fondly at the plants I love and do battle with the endless armies of invaders. There is usually something interesting, especially since this year I have planted a lot of seed. I'm pretty comfortable with things I have grown from seed before, but less so

Dryad's Saddle or Pheasant's Back Mushroom(Polyporus squamosus)One goes off to the forest in May in search of early orchids and encounters these fetching fungi instead. It's always a treat to find such arty structures, and they pop out of the woodwork around the same time as morels do, sometimes growing quite large - well over a foot across. This one was growing out of an elm stump along the trail into the deep woods, and it could be seen from quite a distance because of its tawny ochre coloring.The mushrooms are a species of bracket fungus, and their common name derives from European mythological tradition which held that the fey woodland beings called dryads found the growths comfortable and liked to ride them. Do the saddles develop legs and canter off with their tiny riders when nobody is looking? As for the second name, they do look rather like the mottled feathering on a pheasant's back. Tough in their maturity (rather like me, I suppose), the "saddles" are deliciously edible when young and tender, and they smell somewhat like watermelons, apparently taste like them too when raw. I haven't done it, but apparently one can make a lovely stiff creamy thick paper out of the fibres. Since all the specimens I have located so far are old and stringy, I haven't tried eating them - simply like them for their shape (kind of like the starship Enterprise), their vivid earthy hues, and the fact that they show up like technicolor balloons on stumps and among fallen trees.

Cheerful Monk. Creative Commons license. Last week I mentioned the book, The Path of Least Resistance — Learning to Be a Creative Force in Your Own Life by Robert Fritz. Another book I had read and liked had suggested it, and I was taken by the catchy title, but it didn’t resonate with me. I found it to be wordy, and I disagreed with some of the things Fritz said — for instance that problem solving is not creating. Yeah, sure. Tell that to anyone who has been awed by the Roman aqueducts. But I was willing to give Fritz the benefit of the doubt. When I saw that I could take his program Technologies for Creating at home for a reasonable price, I decided to see how he put his ideas into action. Let’s just say I was surprised. When the gal (during the first of the weekly phone interviews) asked me what my goals were I said, “I want to do some writing, and I want to enjoy the process.” Nope, that was completely unacceptable. Not nearly motivating enough. I was supposed to envision that I’ve written a book, that I’m holding it my hands, that I’m receiving praise and publicity, that I’m holding a check I have received for it, etc. Huh? That’s not the way I work. Also the gal said the conscious mind has to be in charge, that our subconscious should be like a well-trained dog. My approach is just the opposite. I treat my subconscious well by feeding it the information it needs and by giving it plenty of incubation time to come up with the insights and ideas I need. (I agree with the four stages of creativity: preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification.) If I have a project that needs some creative thought I don’t procrastinate but start researching it early. And the key to that is enjoying myself, to do it in the spirit of play. Now that I’m retired I usually get to choose my own projects, and even there I don’t sit down and consciously think about it. I rely on my subconscious to decide. We make a good team. No well-trained dogs there. Okay, so was the course a waste of money? Not at all. It was such a mismatch that it clarified what I do want and believe. I am scratching my head though. I just skimmed through the book to the part where Fritz talks about what he thinks we should be doing — operating from our fundamental life choices rather than being reactive — and it sounds surprisingly like Item 1 of the Traits of Stress-Hardy, Resilient People: They have a sense of meaning, direction, and purpose. They are value-centered rather than reactive and defensive…. So why the gal’s focus on external rewards rather than intrinsic motivation? Who knows. Just another of the mysteries of the universe. What about you? Do you think you’re more reactive to circumstances or more inner-directed? Does the phrase “creative force in your life” resonate with you? Thanks to Mike, Cathy, Evan, tammy, Dixie, bikehikebabe, Ursula and Rummuser for commenting on last week’s post.

,I've had this cloth, a summery linen-cotton blend, for ages but never cut it: today I did. This is an above-the-knee simple tailored skirt with a yoke-type waistband. The sewing project was going really well... until my helper showed up. How do they know? All comfortable. That's OK. I got the skirt cut out and marked and the darts pinned; ready to start sewing next time. (I did take it away from her.) What's not going particularly well is the drawing. It's the weirdest thing; i was all into it, and then, suddenly, it was like a love affair gone bad. I didn't feel like doing it at all. Practically overnight. So odd! So I'm giving it a rest. At this point in my life there's no point in forcing myself. It will come back; I think I needed to release myself from the pressure of the daily drawings. After all, I've been doing it almost every day since the beginning of April. A good time to make a skirt instead. I spent most of the morning at the garden. it's looking pretty nice over there -- lots of things in bloom: late tulips, forget-me-nots, my lilies-of-the-valley are just starting. For the past three years, I've had a bit of a focus on delphinium. Nobody else grows them because they are finicky in this climate, but I always had them in Vermont and decided to try, and so far, they've done well. That is, until this spring, when not one of the Pacific Giants - the tall ones - came up. The small free-flowering ones seem to be OK, and I never grow the mid-size Magic Fountains, because they really aren't reliable here year-to-year. So the other day at the garden center, I bought a bunch of new plants, and today I put them in, after digging out a bunch of anemones that had spread into the area I wanted to use, and then did some other tasks. There's something so satisfying about garden work, even with the inevitable reversals, failures, surprises. I was all grubby and hot and sweaty when I finished, but it felt great.

Apple Blossoms Plum Blossoms Late Tulip

On Monday I'm leaving for a little cabin in the woods.  I'm spending five days at my beloved Donner Lake.   Me.   Solo. I recently realized  that I have not taken a vacation that was not with children, to visit children, or to care for children since 2007 when I went to Stewart Hot Springs. I looked back through my blog posts and found this one from then and laughed because it was also titled Solitude. I reread it and was filled once again with the knowing of who I become when I explore the world alone.  How rich and full up I am with gratitude.  I am so damn excited! So next week.  Hiking and exploring by day.  Reading and relaxing in the hot tub and sauna by night.    I am finally going to be able to step upon the call of my dream I wrote about here: The Pacific Crest Trail.  The main focus of this getaway is to meet my mistress.  So to speak.  Finally.  I have yet to see her. Ever. So I've been devouring books and studying my topographical maps.  Wearing my hiking boots around the house and local trails with and without the insole inserts.  Adding weight gradually to my day pack.  Counting the years, then months, then days until I tread upon her for the first time.    This is actually just an introduction.  I turn 60 in November and will begin the trek the following Spring.  The plan remains to take about a year and a half - two years to complete the hike in segments.  So this little five day adventure? It's just, say, a coffee date.

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  

It is approaching summer Solstice already and I'm keenly aware I've written little about my word of the year, encouragement. It is not for lack of wanting to. I miss blogging but my journey in starting over has proven to take everything I've got to keep my mind from wandering so I can learn new skills. I was never very focused and disciplined in the first place and now...well, this process is making big demands on me and there you have it. It is not like I have not been paying attention to encouragement, however. I give it when I can and savor every bit of it that comes my way. I write daily in my journals to keep an eye on how the word is wending its way into my life. An actual pattern has emerged over this last three months. I can, at least, share that. I apologize in advance for this long winded, self absorbed narrative with too many "I"s. This is a complicated subject for me and there is a certain amount of writing my way to a better understanding involved. This blog is more a memoir or ethical will than a bold narrative for public consumption, so consider yourself warned.In practical, mundane matters the journey to finding enough work to make my situation sustainable slogs on like a slow divorce. I get frustrated and then I remember that even in my younger years a major change in my life direction generally took up to three years to stabilize. I swear I was carried through each of those changes, however, so completely different is this experience at 60 years of age! I go to my clients with a renewed sense of purpose each day. I do my best and I enjoy my work. I still can't say I'm very good at what I do but I'm hopeful. I feel myself melding into a new self that does not live in a cubicle and slog to the beat of some distant administrator's drum. I have my own sloppy and awkward rhythm that I dance to daily. I feel like I'm floating somewhere between retirement and being independently impoverished. It suits me and I'm settling into it. I feel a little discomforted and scared yet it all somehow feels appropriate for right now.On mental and emotional illness and what happens with encouragement.One of the most profound realizations that I've had this year has been about coping skills and how, if outdated, they can become serious detriments to personal growth. I was always somewhat sensitive as a child and in consequence became wildly insensitive to over-compensate as a teen. Then, after having children, I simply began going flat out around the bend due to unresolved childhood trauma and untreated abuses. I began acting out. Through this wild maze of consequences a few self regulatory coping skills were created. They served their purpose to keep me contained at the time but no longer work well for me. These dysfunctions have surfaced en masse - I assume because the thing about encouragement is, you have to allow it in to use it. Many of the demons that scared the life out of me when I was young have not disappeared but because of time, experience and their tenacious quality, I am in a new relationship with them. I've come to own a few things that chased me unrelentingly through the dark corridors of my mind for decades. Little by little, they have been faced down and tamed or calmed spending all of their terrifying and disagreeable incarnations. They live in me still and it is pretty crowded with all those old grappling hooks and various devises moldering in there. Consequently, encouragement (along with inspiration) is left waiting at my threshold for room to abide.Encouragement gets dicey when there is no trust in sources and so, in working with this word over the past few months, as stated, these access problems have exposed spiritual and relationship obstacles There is no room in me for encouragement as my psychic rooms are all filled with devils designed to keep me safe...mostly from myself and my unsettling and guilty past. They are are maintained by a shear force of will that flies into action at the