don't be stingy with the jalapenos

Catching Up

2011-06-26T17:14:00.002-04:00

Three photos from May that I never posted; followed by a June day in an old cemetery next to a church that was established in 1829, and then today in Celery Bog

May:

Greenhill cemetery, June:

Celery Bog, prairie grass area, late June:

April, Part Deux

2011-04-18T19:32:00.000-04:00

April

2011-04-17T14:25:00.000-04:00

Getting my Photo Mojo Back

2010-08-28T11:44:00.002-04:00

A Year Later...

2010-08-14T12:14:00.015-04:00

It's been nearly a year since my last post. Reasons why aren't really important; I'm just happy to be out with a camera again and looking forward to regular posting again!

Yellow is the color of late summer...

I'm learning a new camera and still having some trouble with getting the sharp focus I want (which is me, not the camera; it's much heavier than what I've been using so I'm adjusting to handling it to minimize movement) but I'm working on it and will post whatever doesn't embarrass me too much.

Autumn Poem

2009-09-17T13:23:00.005-04:00

One of my favorite poets...

Autumn Movement
Carl Sandburg

I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,
new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,
and the old things go, not one lasts.

Summer!!

2009-06-17T22:56:00.002-04:00

It's Wednesday evening, the end of a warm, muggy day. Sitting in a chair feeling the cool breezes come in the window, enjoying the night air. Smells of fresh cut grass and the sounds of children's laughter, dusky skies, the last of the birdsong.

And then... a blinking star. A spot of gold. Another! More! Dozens!

The first fireflies of the season.

Summer!

Late May Bloom

2009-05-24T08:16:00.002-04:00

Better Late...

2009-05-21T19:47:00.006-04:00

I'm a bit behind on photography and posting. Just when I thought I was going to have time for both, circumstances intervened (including a sprained ankle that's still healing but better).

However, here's a sample of some recent photos. We had a slow, cool, wonderful spring, lots of rain to help the flowers grow, lots of cool breezes to help the flowers bloom longer than usual. I loved every minute of it even when I couldn't get out and enjoy. Hope you enjoy the photos!

Early flowers and wildflowers

2009-03-22T17:36:00.007-04:00

bloodroot

I went hiking at Clegg Botanical Garden today, a lovely wild spot along the Wildcat Creek. I went primarily in search of hepatica, which I knew to be there, and was pleased and surprised to see other flowers as well. Most are just coming up and a few are showing early buds. I got a few photos and even found one lone hepatica, but the pictures of it are too bleached out to be worth posting -- I'll try again soon when the light isn't so harsh. A few are worth sharing. Dreams of spring!

Virginia bluebells

winter aconite

scilla

early spring

2009-03-20T18:46:00.000-04:00

i thank You God for this most amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes.
- e. e. cummings

Is there a better poem for the first day of spring? Perhaps -- but this perfectly captured the spirit and beauty of the day. March has been unusually mild, with several days of soft breezes and sunshine, and today was no exception. The temperature was only in the forties but the sun was warm and the cool breeze felt gentle against my skin; the sky was a "blue true dream of a sky," the red maple flowers making bright spots against the blue, and hundreds of red-winged blackbirds sang me a spring-song.

I've been hiking a lot, and although it's early for most wildflowers, the spring beauties are showing a few small buds and hepatica is slowly unfurling flowers from the soil. I've been treated to lots of migrating waterfowl: hundreds of coots and northern shovelers, a few mallards, a lone blue-winged teal, many bufflehead, and a dozen or so ring-necked ducks. I've seen a red-tail hawk several times, flashing his red tail as he soars past me to land in a tree, and watched several minutes as a red-shouldered hawk watched me.

The highlight of recent birdwatching, though, was my first great blue heron of the season. No matter when or where I see them, I always take the time to stop and spend a quiet moment.

There will still be chilly days; we could even easily see a snowflake or two, but there's no doubt that spring is on its way!

Happy spring!

Male mallards postured to each other -- while the females pretty much ignored them.

Note: E. E. Cummings liked to play with punctuation. I've tried to stay true to his original poem but there are more than a few different versions on the internet, with different spacing and punctuation, and until I can get to the library I'm not sure I have it completely right. So please bear with me if you're an e.e. cummings fan and it doesn't look right!

According to at least one source, he actually preferred his name capitalized, but sometimes used the lower case to indicate his humility. I thought it was appropriate with this poem so I left it as often written.

Sandhills and red-wings

2009-02-24T16:05:00.000-05:00

There are many signs of spring, and everyone has their favorite. Some look for the return of robins, but I consider them teases, because a few always remain in the winter and come out on a nice day in January as if to fool you. Some look for the first crocus or the blazing yellow forsythia, the noses of daffodils as they peak up, or the swelling of maple buds and the run of maple sap.

I listen for the sandhills and the red-wings. And today, as I was focused on some reading, the plaintive cry of the sandhills cut through my focus and pulled me with a snap into the skies above. I laid back and listened as flock after flock went over. To me there is no lovelier sound in spring.

Unless, of course, it's the chorus "conk-a-REE" of the red winged blackbirds. I first heard them this year a few weeks ago as I walked along the edge of a marsh. The trees and rushes were full of them, singing their distinctive song and flashing their distinctive red patches. A small bright flash of color in a gray and brown day, and a sound guaranteed to warm my heart.

Mr. President

2009-01-20T19:28:00.000-05:00

How nice to be able to say those words, and feel that the person they are directed at deserves the respect behind them.

This is everywhere on the internet, but I pass it along anyway: the complete text of Barack Obama's inauguration speech, given today. Anything in bold is mine.

Of course, now begins the hard part. But with a leader of intelligence, compassion, and an eye on the big picture, rather than personal agendas, we might just have a chance. My biggest hope is that he can live up to what he's inspiring -- that we can all live up to it.

President Obama's speech:

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land — a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America — they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sanh.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. All this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them — that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. Those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day — because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart — not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our founding fathers ... our found fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort — even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West — know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a generation — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world ... that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet (it)."

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.

Hello, beautiful life!

2008-12-25T18:57:00.000-05:00

Merry, happy, celebrate, ring out the old and in the new.... hello, beautiful life!

It's been a year, for me personally, for the country and the world. A lot of people are struggling and a lot of people are uncertain about what the future holds. I don't use my blogs as a space to talk too much about myself or about personal things; they're mostly a way to share my photos/cooking (when I do some!)/knitting. But the last year has been one of the most trying of my life, and if you know my life, you know that says a lot. There's been a lot of sadness and struggle and uncertainty.

It's also been a year of tremendous growth, of seeing small miracles occur. Maybe it's not a coincidence that in this season of joy, wonder, and renewal, somehow the worries and questions are starting to slip away and be replaced by hope and contentment. I still don't know what the next year holds, where I'll be or what I'll be doing, but somehow I know it'll be fine. It'll be better than fine, it'll be good -- it'll be beautiful! I can't say anything in particular has happened to give me so much hope and happiness, but it doesn't matter. Somehow, in spite of struggles and worries and concerns, life is beautiful. Hello, beautiful life!

Yellowstone

2008-11-09T10:50:00.000-05:00

Yellowstone River

Way back in March I posted photos from Topaz Mountain (check them out here) and promised photos from Yellowstone soon. Well, "soon" has come and gone, but since I was there in the fall and it's fall again, now seems an appropriate time to post them.

Yellowstone is an amazing place; I admire the leaders that had the foresight to make it a national park. I could go on and on about the wonders there but wouldn't begin to do justice to the pristine beauty and sheer amazement I felt. I will mention one fact that I love: Yellowstone is centered over a caldera, an active volcano, which of course gives rise to the many geothermal events there, including Old Faithful. It's estimated that if the volcano erupts again it would be a cataclysmic event, but scientists are quick to say that they see no evidence that it will erupt in the near future. Whatever that means.

Anyway, it's a fascinating and beautiful place. Fall is a great time to visit; tourist numbers are way down, the temps are cool and pleasant, the elks are bugling, and the colors are incredible. I hope to return often.

Old Faithful

Yellowstone River

Yes, We Can!

2008-11-05T00:40:00.001-05:00

Yes, we did!

Intelligence, sincerity, and compassion have been restored to the White House.

And for a lot of us, I think, hope has been restored to the United States.

"This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were."

"For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow."

"This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes We Can."

See the entire speech here:

or read it here.

Birds of a feather....

2008-08-21T15:14:00.000-04:00

....do flock together.

Every year I notice birds as they begin to flock in preparation for migration; usually the first I notice is around mid-July when the grackles and other blackbirds begin flocking. It doesn't mean they're leaving yet (as anyone with a bird feeder can testify!) but it's a sign of the changing seasons. I remember the first year I noticed how early flocking begins for some birds; it was a little bit like being splashed with cold water. The birds can't be flocking! It's just barely summer! Don't make me think about fall! I even had a friend point out that I'm always the first to note this signal of seasonal progression, and she doesn't necessarily appreciate my mentioning it, and I can understand that.

But once I got used to the idea of July flocking, I found it blending in with all the other seasonal changes, and it became another connection to nature and its cycles. Now I welcome it as much as I welcome the first wildflower in spring. This year, as usual, I spotted the grackles in mid-July; by early August I was seeing flocks of robins in the woods. Last night I noticed several dozen chimney swifts flying above the Celery Bog marsh as they begin preparation for their long flight south.

Along with the flocking birds, I've noticed the late summer wildflowers: ragweed, ironweed, asters, goldenrod... the beginnings of color in the neighbor's maple tree, hickory nuts on the paths in the woods, the bright red seed heads of last spring's jack-in-the-pulpits.

I don't relish the end of summer; I don't like to see our summer residents getting ready to leave. But I do like anything that ties me into nature, that strengthens my relationship with it. So flock on, birds, and I'll see you next spring!

Prairie Wildflowers

2008-07-29T14:13:00.000-04:00

Some photos from a recent visit to Prophetstown State Park. If you haven't been there it's worth a visit. It's different from many other state parks I'm used to; the emphasis is more on prairies than woods, although there are both. But I like that -- as much as I love mountains and forests, I've also always been drawn to grasslands and prairies, and I like the work they've done to establish prairie plants on so much of the land.

July Woodland Wildflowers, Celery Bog

2008-07-27T15:49:00.000-04:00

Unidentified, and very tiny, wildflower

This wren chattered at me and would not leave the path -- perhaps it was trying to get me away from it's nest and/or young -- at any rate, I snapped a quick picture and obeyed his/her desire to be left alone.

Agrimony (Agrimonia sp.)

Tall Bellflower (Campanula americana)
This was new to me this year -- tall spikes of blue flowers scattered through the damper woodlands of Celery Bog -- really a delight.

Solomon's Seal, fruit (Polygonatum canaliculatum)

Touch-me-not, Jewelweed, or Wild Impatiens (Impatiens sp.)
Sap from this plant is good against poison ivy.
It's called touch-me-not because the seed pods explode rather forcefully from even the slightest touch when fully ripe. Great but harmless way to startle unsuspecting friends!

Spiderwort (Tradescantia sp.)

Off With Their Heads!

2008-05-13T09:38:00.000-04:00

And their little feet, too!

Yes, that rather innocuous looking flower is a thug.

Garlic mustard (scientific name Alliaria petiolata, in the Brassicaceae* [Mustard] family) is an invasive cool weather biennial common in Midwest woodlands. It's related to mustard, broccoli, cabbage, radishes, sweet rocket, stocks, and many other commonly known plants; as you might guess, it's also edible, with a garlicky scent and flavor (although I can't vouch for the taste as I've never tried it).

But the key word in the previous paragraph is invasive. Garlic mustard is quite aggressive; in fact, the Indiana Native Plant and Wildflower Society considers it one of the ten most destructive invasive plants in Indiana. It begins growth in very early spring. As a biennial, the first year it forms a rosette; the rosette often remains green throughout the winter and the leaves can photosynthesize whenever the temperature is above freezing. The second year, the rosette shoots up, flowers, produces hundreds of seeds, and dies.

As a non-native plant, it has few natural enemies and easily outcompetes many of the native spring wildflowers, threatening them and the wildlife that depends on them. It can also pop up in your own yard, crowding out the flowers you may be trying to grow. In some forests it's taken over, shading out and destroying most of the native plants. Go to this link and scroll down to see some photos showing just how thick it can get.

Obviously it's a problem.

What can you do? Participate in garlic mustard pulls (many communities, conservation organizations, and parks sponsor these); if you find it in your own yard, cut it at the base (during flower stalk elongation only or it will simply resprout), or pull the plant entirely (make sure to get the roots, although they tend to pull out easily). Educate yourself and others. Help stop this plant.

Garlic mustard, early spring rosette

flower stalk elongation beginning

flowering plant

Here are some links for further information:

Plant Conservation Alliance
Garlic mustard handout (PDF file -- a good one to print out and keep on hand)
Midwest Invasive Plant Network -- learn more about invasive plants and why you should care (another PDF file, this one on invasives in general) about them
Garlic mustard resources -- a long list of links about garlic mustard

close up of flower, showing the classic cross-shaped petal arrangement for which the Mustard family is known

*(or, if like me, you learned your botanical families some years ago, the Cruciferae family)

Next Chapters

2008-05-07T21:14:00.000-04:00

I posted a bit about mom's battle with cancer here. It's been a rough haul from the start, and she's been a trooper. But.

Last week at the doctor we heard what we expected to hear sooner or later: chemotherapy is too much for mom's body (the one treatment of gemzar she had in March knocked her flat and she's still struggling to regain some strength) so there's nothing more they can do. Any further treatment will destroy what quality of life she might have without treatment, so that leaves us looking at hospice and the accompanying options. A difficult and emotional time for all.

Mom alternates between a couple of extremes: realizing that her time is limited while taking a philosophical approach to it: "After all, I'm 88, I've lived longer than a lot of people;" and forgetting what the doctor told her and thinking she's going to get better. And she can land many places between the two.

There are some upcoming difficulties in addition to the obvious: I can't be here for her 24/7; my brothers can't fill in the gaps; my mother (at least so far) is adamantly, almost violently, opposed to hired people coming into her home; and she flatly refuses to go to a facility where they could give her good care.

Meanwhile, I watch her weaken, and forget, and remember again, and realize she's forgetting. I watch her determination as she struggles to do everything she can for herself, and I see and feel her frustration when she can't do what she knows she could do just a short time ago.

I admire her independence and spunk. It's what keeps her going and probably what's allowed her to have as much recovery as she's had. I try to learn from her; some of the things I've picked up, like the independence and spunk, have been with me a long time. Now I'm focusing on other lessons, lessons that may not be as direct. For example, I'm learning -- I hope -- graceful acceptance of things I can't control, a lot of which is happening in my own life anyway. And I hope I remember these lessons as I face my own aging and health issues in the future. I'm learning more about compassion, and love, and I'm learning how to open my heart more.

I've been 24/7 with mom, more or less, for about six months. Stressful? You bet; although our relationship has been good in recent years, there's still some old mother-daughter stuff going on. But it's also been a blessing, and I've been really grateful for our time together.

However, I'm going to start working soon -- although rather than focusing on a professional job, where ever that might land me (and therefore delaying my potential return to the Northwest), I'm looking at the possibility of a local, less professional position that I can quit on short notice if need be. At least that's my plan for today.

After we got the news about mom, I had to take about a week to regroup, sort through my emotions, my choices, and the things I have to deal with that aren't mine by choice but by circumstance. I still am not sure how things are going to unfold so there are some things I just have to let float. I'm trying to stay open to what's next.

I meditate often anyway, but recently added another piece -- something comforting, cobweb-clearing, physically and mentally renewing; it's hard work, and at times shear torture: yep, running! For me, that's actually running/walking. I'm not a natural athlete, and vigorous disciplined exercise, especially running, has always been difficult. But I've been drawn to running throughout my adult life, over and over, like a moth to the flame (no serious burns yet, though), and nothing else I've ever done has quite the same rewards, so I'm back at it. As the old joke goes, when people ask me why I run, I always say, "Because it feels so good when I stop!" And there are many levels of truth to that. I'm at my best in just about every way when I run. And right now I especially need all the best I have.

So, I run.

And I sit with my mom, hold her hand when I can, give her a tissue when she cries. Try to just listen if that's what she needs. Joke about the dog, rejoice in each new flower we find blooming in the yard, help her sort the mail and pay the bills.

And most of all, enjoy the moments we have.

Spring Fling!

2008-04-26T12:10:00.000-04:00

I went to Celery Bog Friday morning and just by coincidence, hit the perfect day. Spring wildflowers were, well, going wild! Many of them are at peak bloom; carpets of spring beauties, mayapples everywhere, Jack-in-the-pulpits peeking out, Jacob's ladders creating soft blue spots. The front that moved through Thursday night must have brought in hundreds of migrating birds, too -- I've never heard so much bird song in one place -- warblers everywhere, wood thrush's flute-like tones, white-throated sparrows hopping in the underbrush, wrens singing up a storm; it went on and on. It was a perfect day and I hopefully captured a little of it in my photos; I know I captured a lot of it in my heart.

Muskrat Love

2008-04-17T21:26:00.000-04:00

So... when did you grow up? What music did you listen to? Does the song title, "Muskrat Love" mean anything to you?

Just had to ask :) I couldn't help thinking of the song when a muskrat nest was pointed out to me at Celery Bog. My photo isn't great but I didn't want to get closer and disturb the muskrat. The nest is on the right side of the photo; it's that grassy, twiggy pile on top of the log in the water. The mother is the smooth mound at the top. I had no idea they built their nests in such an exposed place -- more about muskrats can be found here, if, like me, you don't know much about them.

And in celebration of spring, here are a few more photos. I love the sounds, smells, looks of spring... the flocks of yellow-rumped warblers in the woods, the peeper's chorus, the aroma of moist earth. The first mockingbird song of the year and the cool breezes over my bed. The awakening of life and the renewal of hope and joy.

Great blue heron, possibly my favorite bird

turtle basking in sun

spring beauties, an early wildflower

skunk cabbage just emerging

Happy spring, everyone!

Blessings

2008-03-10T15:16:00.000-04:00

Some of you know that my mom has been battling ovarian cancer for about 1 1/2 years. She was diagnosed eight months after my father died -- a hurt that hadn't yet healed (does the loss of a spouse of 55 years ever really heal?) and was barely getting her feet back underneath her when she was hit with the bad news. She had almost a year of remission after her surgery and first round of chemo. Then in November the cancer was back, although so far it's only a small lesion and enlarged lymph nodes, nothing really aggressive or invasive yet. She was put on a trial drug that has great promise but, unfortunately, that didn't work for her. Fortunately, nothing was really lost by trying the experimental drug. It was our first choice because it has fewer and mostly milder side effects and the treatment regimen is easier than traditional chemo. Because her cancer is slow-growing at this point, giving the trial a shot for the extra months didn't hurt in terms of cancer advancement, and it was worth trying. Now we're back to more traditional treatments. She's frail and weak so our best option is to try gemzar.

She's nearly 88 years old and just a little slip of a woman at this point, but her emotional strength is amazing. And all that brings me to the point of this post: blessings. So here are a few.

I'm blessed to have this time with my mom. I'm blessed to be able to heal hurts, to see our relationship grow and deepen; I'm blessed to be able to help her in a way I know my brothers couldn't, although they would and do help in their own way.

I'm blessed to see her humor in times of tragedy. One day, in the oncologist's office, she started to lose her balance and trip; I grabbed her hand and asked if she was ok, and she made the entire office of cancer patients laugh when she said, with a crooked little grin, "If I was ok, I wouldn't be here!"

I'm blessed to be here to fill in some of her memory gaps; to provide the small gestures of strength -- opening a jar, lifting the corn flake box when she's too tired, driving her on small errands.

I'm blessed to hear her stories, even the ones I've heard a hundred times before, and even the ones that are being rewritten. I'm blessed to have the quiet times with her, to just listen, to see the woman she is.

And, I'm blessed to be her daughter.

best friends

2008-03-08T13:34:00.000-05:00

Each friend represents a world in us,
a world possibly not born until they arrive,
and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
- Anais Nin

These two have definitely created a new world... cat and crow. About as heartwarming as it comes. As John Lennon said, "I get by with a little help from my friends."

This is my friend Sassy -- not the kitten in the video, Cassie, but they sure look like kin.

Happiness, hope, & freedom

2008-03-06T21:09:00.000-05:00

There are as many nights as days,
and the one is just as long as the other in the year's course.
Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness,
and the word "happy" would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.
Carl Jung

To know what you prefer
instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer,
is to have kept your soul alive.
Robert Louis Stevenson

Knowing is not enough; we must apply.
Willing is not enough; we must do.
Johann von Goethe

We must accept finite disappointment,
but we must never lose infinite hope.
Martin Luther King Jr.

The secret of happiness is freedom.
The secret of freedom is courage.
Thucydides

Topaz Mountain

2008-03-03T12:21:00.000-05:00

I recently realized that although I haven't been in all the states, I've been in the four corners (not counting AL and HI) -- Washington, California, Florida, Maine -- and many other states as well. In fact, in the last four years, I drove through the following states: Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, Maine... And that's just in the last four years; I could add many other states if I went back further. All this got me thinking about my favorite trips and places. And although I love many, many places, and there are several that are right there in first place, there was something about two trips in particular that spoke to me on a very deep level. One was to New Mexico, and one was to Utah and Wyoming. I have lots of photos from both -- here are a few of my favorites; more to follow in another post.

Topaz Mountain sunrise

This is Topaz Mountain in Utah (for more information, check out the links here and here). It's not much of a mountain and mainly appeals to rock hounds (for -- yes, you guessed it -- the topaz to be found there). The area is high dessert, stark; the plant life there looks like it's been subjected to harsh weather because it has; the wildlife is, maybe surprisingly, abundant: jackrabbits, coyote, ground squirrels, and much more. The only camping at Topaz is primitive -- dig your own latrine, bring your own water -- it's miles and miles from any kind of civilization -- the colors are amazing, the light is beautiful, the stars are incredible... and so is everything else about the area.

jackrabbit

lichens

rhyolite

put a little love in your heart

2008-02-14T12:58:00.000-05:00

"In A Heartbeat" heart quilt by Rita Pasquinucci, 2007

Happy Valentine's Day!

A day for love and for gratitude. A good day to recognize that there's always room for more love in the world -- so go out and smile at a stranger, reach for that can of soup the elderly person in the grocery store can't reach, hug a friend, do something nice for yourself!

I'm grateful for all the love in my life: old friends and new; family; even the people I don't know who, as we wait in line at the coffee shop, make a warm comment that brightens my day.

I'm grateful for the spring-song of birds, the lengthening days, the light snowfall and soft winter quiet it brings to the woods. Quiet conversations with old friends, laughter with new. The touch of a hand and an understanding look.

For the many talents I've been given and the opportunities to use them.

For being able to bring more compassion into the life of someone who needs it, and to thereby bring more compassion to myself.

Whether you're alone this Valentine's or celebrating with those you love most, enjoy the day, and spread a little extra love around, today and every day! As the Jackie DeShannon song says,

Think of your fellow man,
lend him a helping hand;
put a little love in your heart.

Another day goes by,
and still the children cry;
put a little love in your heart.

If you want the world to know
we won't let hatred grow,
put a little love in your heart.

And the world will be a better place.

And the world will be a better place.

fog

2008-02-05T23:52:00.000-05:00

Friday: 8" of snow.

Sunday: rain.

Monday: deep, dense fog.

I love it.

Winter in Indiana!

Happy Birthday to me!

2008-02-03T21:55:00.000-05:00

I don't have any new photos to post, but I had such a great day, I just wanted to share... really didn't expect much but maybe that's when you get the most.

First there were the phone calls and e-cards that really started the day off right (thank you, everyone!). Then, my niece took me to lunch. She's a college freshman so I appreciate her limited budget (when was the last time your niece/nephew/son/daughter/etc. took you out for your birthday? It was such a generous and thoughtful thing for her to do). We share February birthdays but have never celebrated together, so being together, just "girl time," was really special!

Next was hiking with a friend, and granted, the conditions weren't perfect (melting snow, slippery slidy stuff) but I had a blast (landed on my rear going down a steep slope, got soaking wet and covered with mud! I couldn't help laughing!). It was a gorgeous day, sunny and breezy, and I loved seeing bald eagles, hearing cardinal spring song, and feeling warm breezes off the river.

The day ended with dinner in a quiet corner, just a good friend and I (Super Bowl Sunday doesn't hit everywhere!), a homemade cake, great jazz, and some deep conversation and even deeper laughter!

It's the best birthday I've had in a few years.

Counting my blessings, and blessing the years!!

Swans

2008-01-27T15:55:00.000-05:00

As I was leaving Celery Bog Saturday, two swans were sauntering down the drive. I immediately stopped the car and started taking photos, which didn't phase them in the least. I don't know swans and assumed they're trumpeter swans (because they're more common here, I think), but after I got the pictures home and started looking in books, I wasn't sure. I decided their bills are those of a mute swan; at least, that's what I come up with after looking at several pictures of the bills.

Either way, it was fun to get so close to them after only seeing them across the marsh.

Anyone who might know more than I do, please feel free to clarify this for me. Thanks!

Edit: thanks to all who replied via INBIRD and other ways -- definitely mute swans, and it's nice to have the confirmation!

I thought they were going to fly away at this point but the one was just... stretching or something, I guess!

Although it looks like s/he's running, this swan was merely plodding along... I love those huge feet!

ice and eagles, support and strength

2008-01-20T21:48:00.000-05:00

I woke up to sunshine and cold: zero -- a nice brisk temperature. Most people wouldn't consider this good hiking weather but I couldn't wait to get out in the fresh, crisp air. I spent some time at Celery Bog and blissfully had it all to myself. Ice crystals were everywhere, including over most of the water in the marsh.

The highlight of the morning, however, was seeing four bald eagles gliding in slow circles above the Wabash, making their way downstream.

~~~~~~

One kind word can warm three winter months. ~Japanese Proverb

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home. ~Edith Sitwell

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. ~ Albert Camus

From serenity comes gentleness, comes lasting strength. ~Pam Brown

I don't mean to be redundant, but I've continued to be so touched and moved by so many. I'm grateful for friendship, support, love, understanding, compassion -- kind words, the touch of a friendly hand; for finding that invincible summer again, and rediscovering serenity and lasting strength.

gratitude

2008-01-04T10:17:00.000-05:00

Let's be grateful for those who give us happiness; they are the charming gardeners who make our soul bloom. ~Marcel Proust

I don't know who said, "A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart," but I've found that quote especially appropriate lately. Thanks to all who have reached out to hold my hand with support, laughter, and understanding -- who held tight and helped pull me from the dark waters I feel like I was living in for too long. My heart has been touched and I'm grateful for all of you. I've found things opening up for me in ways I couldn't have imagined possible a few short weeks ago.

I'm grateful for the people who have helped illuminate my life, who have provided insights and clarity, and who have encouraged nourishing and healthy choices.

Most of all, I'm grateful for those who help my soul bloom. There is heaven on earth, and it's found deep within our own selves.

gifts

2007-12-29T21:32:00.000-05:00

Gifts sometimes show up in the most unexpected places. And come in the most surprising packages.

I have many, many gifts this season – gifts of love, of friendship, of understanding. Gifts of kindness. Gifts I’ve gotten from friends, from strangers, from family. Gifts of hugs, of talk, of compassion. Of sharing, and of companionship, and of kindness.

I have other gifts, too; gifts that I’m giving myself this year.

The gift of self-awareness. The gift of being able to look deep inside, instead of looking outward to blame. The gift of being willing to work on myself instead of looking for someone else to fix me. The gift of knowing that I need time: time to grieve, time to heal, time to get my feet back under me.

The gift of knowing that denial isn’t a way out, or a way around. It’s only a way to suppress the problems and emotions, and I have the gift of knowing that if I do that, they only reemerge later.

I have the gift of knowing that the way out is the way through.

And, I have the gifts of hope, and faith, and trust.

Sometimes you can go home again. You can go home, and you can heal.

a thought

2007-12-05T20:57:00.000-05:00

"One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one."

Agatha Christie

Room (and land) with a View, part 2

2007-10-24T15:26:00.000-04:00

It's hard to get a good photo through my office window (maybe you saw my previous attempt, here) but this gives a hint of what I'm seeing as I look up from my laptop. The trees began turning late, perhaps because of the long, warm fall, but what they lacked in timing they're making up for in color. The variety of trees in the woods creates an incredible palette, all shades of orange, red, yellow, brown, and gold. I don't recall seeing so much variation in one area -- I'm used to forests in which a few species predominate -- so it's been the proverbial feast for my eyes.

The migrating birds have been fun to watch, too. After nearly a two-month absence, I was surprised and delighted recently one morning to hear red-winged blackbirds. They're still coming through in waves. I've been treated to yellow-belllied sapsuckers, golden-crowned kinglets, various warblers, white-crowned and white-throated sparrows, red-breasted nuthatches, all in addition to the normal 15-20 species of birds I see at the feeders and around the yard.

As I sat writing this I realized our cool, gray weather could turn to cool, rainy weather, and with enough wind, the leaves would start to drop. Besides, it's just too beautiful to stay indoors. So I took a walk and got a few photos from the area right around the house and across the road. As Elizabeth Lawrence said, "Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn."

Enjoy!

Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.
William Cullen Bryant

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf's a flower.
Albert Camus

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth
seeking the successive autumns.
George Eliot

The Great Geauga County Fair, 2007

2007-09-30T11:06:00.000-04:00

Confession time: I'm a fair geek. A deep, true fair geek.

(Aside. How do you know if you're a fair geek? You have to know two things to qualify: One, you know that fair food is totally bad for you, and totally part of the experience, and sometimes it's even tasty. Fried candy bars aren't mandatory but you do have to indulge in something. Two, you know that the Prime Rule of Fairgoing is finding and obtaining a free yardstick.)

My first exposure was as a city girl (Chicago) visiting my country cousins. Not only was scraping the manure out of the barn great fun, but they got to go to the county fair. Animals! Rides! Games! Peep shows! (Yes, back then they had girlie shows. We were scandalized and interested and careful not to get too close).

Later, when my dad was an Indiana State Fair Director, he got all kinds of perks, including a free hotel for the 10 days of the fair, passes to all the shows (Beach Boys. Heart. Johnny Cash.), and jobs for his kids. Every summer in high school I worked at the state fair, usually something simple and mindless, like standing behind a counter in the University Building and stopping the general public from going through a door behind me. One year I wrote captions for all the publicity photos that went out of the fair publicity office. A picture of a kid with their prize-winning whatever. "Susie Hoftenstein of Chewtown in Lauralee County won Grand Champion with her prize-winning llama." Stuff like that. Of course I knew the fairgrounds backwards and forwards, ate lots of grilled cheeses from the Dairymen's Association Bar (great milkshakes there, too), met lots of other people, and generally had a grand time. Went to more shows than I can remember. Went through the Arts and Family Living Building countless times to check out the quilts and photography. It was fun and an easy way to earn some money right before school started.

So, when I heard about the Great Geauga County Fair, I had to go. Had to.

It was, indeed, a great fair. Not the biggest or best I've ever seen, but definitely qualified as a definitive fair. It had:

Food. Junk food, and lots of it. If it's fried, it's at a fair. If it doesn't have fried food, it's not a fair.

Animals. Cute ones.

Funny ones.

And funny, cute ones.

Food that looked like animals. Or people, or something.

Competitions: rabbit judging.

Competitions: riding

Rides.

More food.

Needlework (with more needlework photos here).

Tractors. (This one's for you, dad).

Still more food. (And even more food here)

Games.

Gabora the Gorilla Girl.

And her friend, Myrna the Mermaid.

A Segway. I have to admit, a Segway at the fair was new to me. Looks just as silly here as anywhere else I've seen them (I think the woman in the blue shirt and Capris agreed with me).

Flowers.

Strolling singers.

The hay judging, completed.

And last but not least, a sure sign that you're at a real county fair:

In case you're wondering, I ate a corndog (one of the best I've ever had. Hand dipped, right in front of me. Terrific corn batter full of corn taste, a spicy, meaty dog, and the whole thing crispy fried but not greasy.)

And, yes, I did get that yardstick. As I said, I'm a true fair geek.

And proud of it.

Early Fall Walk

2007-09-19T10:09:00.000-04:00

I took advantage of the great weather to go for a walk. I enjoyed the colors and soft cool breeze, and took some photos.

A Room with a View

2007-09-07T11:49:00.000-04:00

I love my little office. I'm still getting settled in but I found a nice old oak library table for a desk; it butts up against a window with a lovely vista. A large elm tree (Ulmus x 'Accolade') fills most of the scene, but there's a opening in the branches just large enough to give me a zen view into the area garden. Right now feather reed grass (Calamagrostis x acutiflora 'Karl Foerster'), goldenrod, and rudbeckia are highlights of the garden. Later in autumn, trees in the background will pop with color, and in winter the bare branches of the elm allow a wider view of the snow-covered grounds. On a rainy day I'm just inches from the sound of dripping water and on cool days a breeze touches my hands as I type. Sometimes I see a rabbit nibbling at the grass; less often, a deer wanders into sight. On a late summer night I'm treated to the sounds of coyotes and owls and the soft wash of moonlight in the branches.

It's a small thing, to have a room with a view, but it's also a great blessing.

I'll give you a ticket

2007-08-26T14:54:00.000-04:00

Call me a nerd, call me silly, roll your eyes.... but git yer grammer right! :)

Your Language Arts Grade: 100%

Way to go! You know not to trust the MS Grammar Check and you know "no" from "know." Now, go forth and spread the good word (or at least, the proper use of apostrophes).

Are You Gooder at Grammar?
Make a Quiz

If you don't pass this test with at least an 80%, go back to school!

PS. I'm also a bona fide member of the Word Police. I have tickets and I know how to use them....

Chardon Arts Festival 2007

2007-08-07T19:35:00.000-04:00

Chardon, Ohio, is one of those small Midwest towns that is holding fast to some of the elements that make such towns charming: an historic courthouse, a real downtown square lined with locally-owned shops, and events that mark it as a fun destination. There's a maple sugar festival each spring, and for the last 27 years there's been an arts festival in the summer.

I've been to a number of arts festivals and they vary a lot -- with anything from crafts and a flea-market feel to high quality, professional art (with prices to match). I wasn't sure where the Chardon Arts Festival would fall on that line; it turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. There were a wide variety of art forms represented with very good to excellent quality, and prices that the more casual collector could afford, although those who wanted to spend a lot certainly could. And it was fun, and full of home-town atmosphere.

I liked a number of the vendors present but especially appreciated the work of Diane Castle Babcock. She does linoleum block prints, something you don't see often any more, and she does them well. I spent some time looking at her work before making the rounds of the rest of the festival, then backtracked to visit her booth again. This is the result:

She has a number of prints that I liked, but this one was in my budget (well, actually, being unemployed, *nothing* is in my budget, but this one was at the lower end of the price range of her work and I splurged). She makes beautiful block prints, primarily nature scenes, using the reduction method of printing. More about her work and the process she uses can be found here. Quite by coincidence, the print I chose is featured on her home page. She does lovely work and I plan to purchase more of her prints in the future. If you like block prints, give her website a visit. I like to support art and her work is well worth it.

Gourds!

2007-08-05T12:31:00.000-04:00

I started gardening with my dad when I was 3 -- we would carefully sow a row each of marigolds, sweet alyssum, zinnas, and snapdragons. I followed my mom around and "helped" her plant dianthus and pansies each fall so they could bloom in the spring (which dates me -- now they grow pansies as annuals but when I was young they were grown as biennials. Anyone remember that? Then you're as old as I am!).

Since then, I've had countless gardens and grown countless plants. But not that many gourds. I've grown the cute little fall ornamental gourds but that's it. This year, although I have almost no ground in which to garden, I decided to grow birdhouse gourds. Big, wandering plants with big gourds. Why did I pick a large, aggressive plant when I have so little space? Initially, I was going to plant them on trellises erected to give privacy from the road that runs right by the patio, but after little reading I realized that the plants would most likely be too heavy for the trellises. So much for that idea. Instead, they were planted along a stone and wood fence. Truthfully, I was all for giving them away since I weren't going to use them as planned, but decided to give them a chance anyway.

They've turned out to be an unexpected delight. The vines are gorgeous, lush and vigorous. The tendrils are adorable. And even the flowers are cool!

When I was reading I learned that sometimes they need hand pollination, so I anxiously awaited the opening of the first female flowers (the male flowers begin blooming first).

male flower -- if you look close, you can see the pollen around the anthers and on the throat of the flower

Finally, females! the first few female flowers found me outside in the morning, before the flowers closed, hand pollinating.

female flower with stigmas waiting for pollen

female flower showing ovary behind the flower -- shaped like a tiny gourd. An unopened male flower is in the background; note that it lacks the gourd-shaped ovary.

I carefully tied a bright piece of yarn around each pollinated flower so I could watch its progress. Hand pollination is a good project if you like almost-instant gratification -- within 24 hours I could see that the pollen had found its way down into the ovary and the fruit was growing. And they grow and grow and grow -- it's great fun to watch them and see the changes. And of course, it wasn't long before we realized that hand pollination wasn't needed: the insects were doing their work and pollinating plenty of flowers. I am the proud parent of gourds! Lots of 'em!

The vines are growing along the top of a stone wall, weaving in and out of the wood fence that's on top of the stone. Right now they're about 30 feet long and still growing and trying to climb anything they can get their tendrils around (I've been in a gentle battle to keep them off the garden hose).

They're gorgeous, they're fun, and I can't wait to see how many gourds I get and how they turn out!

photo art de moi

2007-08-02T18:10:00.000-04:00

just call me "Lavy"

2007-07-17T08:40:00.001-04:00

too funny -- but if you know me, you know it's very appropriate!

Your Hippie Chick Name Is:

Lavender

Hippie Chick Name Generator

Peace and love, everyone :)

Stebbin's Gulch

2007-02-26T13:08:00.000-05:00

I took a hike to Stebbin's Gulch Saturday. Strapped on snowshoes, hiked across a field, then down a ravine into the gulch.

It was spectacular.

Stebbin's Gulch is part of Holden Arboretum in northeast Ohio. It's a national Natural History Landmark and is protected. There are some unique native plants -- can't wait to visit in the spring and summer to get a better look at the plant communities.

Because the stream was only partly frozen over there are places where I had to slog through ice. Literally through ice. Since I took my snowshoes off when I got to rugged terrain, my foot often plunged through the ice into the running water. But my Extreme Squall boots are as advertised -- waterproof -- and they kept my feet toasty and dry. And anyway, no amount of icy water would be a deterrent. I love to hike, I love to be outdoors, I love to explore new-to-me areas, I love nature. And this place is unique.

Just as a point of reference, the icicles are a good twelve feet high and in some places were up to 20 feet long...

whoda thunk

2007-02-15T09:14:00.000-05:00

Huh. OK, so here I sit, facing a blank screen, my cat purring from her warm spot on the desk between my laptop and the radiator, and I'm wondering: just what am I doing with my own blog? Which is the same question I'm wondering about my life: just what is it I'm doing with my life?

How did a barefoot country girl, a Hoosier by birth, end up with no home, no job, no immediate prospects for either... and what am I going to do about it?

All good questions with not that many answers, at least not yet. OK, I guess I know how I got here -- quit my job, sold my old Indiana farmhouse, packed up my things, threw my laptop and my cat into my car and moved 2200 miles to Washington state -- only to find out two years later that "commitment" didn't mean the same to the ex as it did to me -- so a year ago I popped my things into storage, threw my laptop and my cat into my car, and began a new journey.

I can say that, thanks to the generous support of family and friends, I'm not only OK, I'm better off than I've ever been in my life.

And now, here I am, living in Cleveland. Well, east of Cleveland, in the hills of northeast Ohio, on the eastern side of Lake Erie. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: ew. The armpit of the Midwest. The hairy armpit of the Midwest. Burning rivers and all that. Well, surprise: it's not all that, at least not any more. It's actually a pretty cool city located in a very cool part of the country. Lots of hills and hemlocks, rivers and beaches, and let's not forget the lake. And Cleveland is home to a lot of rather progressive people, has a strong healing community. Decent restaurants... not quite enough bookstores but there are some good coffeeshops. Lots of great places to hike.

But, shhhhh... please don't tell. It's crowded enough. We don't need all those Californians moving here.

So here I sit, enjoying the winter and the woods and the snow (which surprises no one more than it surprises me, a few years ago I hated snow and was delighted to get away from it and move to the Pacific Northwest, and now I love the snow, so go figure). And I decided to start a blog for no particular reason except it presented itself to me one day. "Start your own blog! It's easy! It's fun! It's the perfect pass time for someone with no job!"

Winter's officially not over for some time yet (although I'll share my late winter refrain: February is a short month, and then it's March, and in March the buds start to swell and the grass starts to turn green and spring is just around the corner!) but I can hear the cardinals singing their spring songs; the finches (gold and house) have started to brighten up with mating season colors; and the quality of the light has shifted. Have you ever noticed that? Sometime in February, the light becomes warmer, literally, yes, but also in a less definable way, something in the feel and glow of it. Change is underway although most of it is still hidden. Today the sun was out, snow started melting, icicles fell off the eaves. The cold will be back, but spring will get here. There's a lot to come. Not all of it has been revealed yet, but it will unfold as it's supposed to... just like my life will continue to unfold as it should. I don't know where my path leads, but I'm not afraid of a few jalapeños, and I intend to enjoy the ride!