This Writer's Life

FAIR TRADE SHOPPING

2012-02-01T13:57:00.000-08:00

For the last year, I have been volunteering at a Fair Trade Store near where I live, called Cross Roads. Having lived in a third world country, and living with African people who struggled hard just to have the necessities of life like food, shelter, transportation, health care, education, I have become passionate with the mission of Fair Trade which has the intention of providing a fair, living wage to the producers of the products we buy from them. Some of these products we think of as necessities in this country like coffee, chocolate and sugar etc. And when you think of the people who must work the longest and the hardest to provide these "luxuries" for us, it is those producers in those 3ed world countries who are often paid the least amount of money. Enter Fair Trade and its mission to provide a fair, sustainable, living wage to these producers so that they can just live. So what are the reasons to buy Fair Trade products? Let me give some reason here for all of us to think about:
1. To support a system that benefits the poor. The mainstream trading system is exploiting and failing the poor in 3ed world countries.
2. Support a trade system that pays a just and fair price to the originators of products around the world. These are often the people who do the hardest part of the work.
3. Make international trade more democratic. International trade is mostly undemocratic, controlled by large corporations for their greatest profit.
4. Help bring justice and empowerment to women and girls. Women & girls do most of the work, and except for Fair Trade Cooperatives, are treated like second class citizens.
5.Help guarantee a just and fair price for products, i.e. coffee, irregardless of fluctuating prices on the open market. With Fair Trade, growers are guaranteed a minimum fair price for their products. The Fair Trade minimum price is calculated to cover the costs of sustainable production and sustainable livelihood. This minimum price does not fall below this minimum price when the world markets fall. This allows for long-term planning and sustainable production practices. It is a partnership between producers and Fair Trade Organizations. Producers can also ask for up to 60 %-financing. It also provides a living wage that people can count on.
6. Promote human rights and dignity for each person in the process of trade. Fair Trade is not a charity; it is simple justice.
7. Stops paying so much money to people between the producers and the consumers; the intermediaries who often exploit the growers and producers. Non-Fair Trade coffee, i.e. can change hands up to 150 times before it reaches your cup. Often, the producers are paid just 2 cents on a $3.00 cup of coffee! Fair Trade products, by contrast, are usually sold directly from the in-country cooperative and the manufacturers.
8. Help protect the earth. Most for-profit traders put farmers, producers, social and environmental concerns last. Fair Trade puts them first. Any co-op that works through Fair Trade Organizations must have as one of its priorities, to protect the environment.
9. Help end child exploitation. Millions of children world-wide are exploited, trafficked and enslaved by adults for money, and many are injured or die as a result. This is not allowed in a Fair Trade Coop.
If you want to know more about Fair Trade, go to: http://www.fairtradeerresources.org or http://fairtradeprinciples.org In the meantime, look for the Fair Trade labels at the store, and spread the word~

FEEDING THE BIRDS

2012-01-29T11:10:00.000-08:00

On Thursday of this past week, I attended to one of my New Year's Resolutions, to feed the birds this winter, by having a Brunch and then having my girlfriends make pine-cone bird feeders. Like Tom Sawyer, I thought that I would get some of my friends to help me "paint the fence!" And, from the pictures, as you can see, we all had so much fun getting our hands full of lard and peanut butter, rubbing this mix into pine-cones and then rolling them in bird seed. From an article I read, the single biggest danger to birds in the winter is not enough food to eat, so now I feel that we have done a little bit to help those two winged creatures of flight that bring me so much joy. And, yesterday, I trudged outside in my new sturdy boots to put my bird feeders in the trees,selecting trees and branches where I can watch them from my windows. A winter delight! Then,after tending to the birds, I took my once a year, lone jaunt into the countryside to enjoy the new fallen snow alight in meadows, across fields, over barns, in pastures with horses and cattle, sheep and swine, and on fences, trees and lakes. I usually load up my car CD player with my favorite tapes, and head out east on one-lane country roads which are still icy and snow-covered, and roll along the flat lands of the prairie and the occasional hill and dale to my heart's content. Along the way, I stop and take pictures as you can see below. One of my favorite songs is Susan Boyle's, "Just a Perfect Day," and I must have played it loud and long for it was indeed, just a perfect day.

Watching Things Grow

2012-01-24T12:31:00.000-08:00

I really think that there is something fabulous about watching things grow up from the ground, or in this case, out of a planted pot. During the winter, I always buy plants that I can watch get bigger, materialize, and finally become something quite beautiful. When I was first married and we had bought our first little house, the first thing I wanted to do was have a garden. My husband who grew up on a farm, and knew everything about growing things in the ground was not quite so excited, but encouraged me with interest to plant those seeds in the spring. You cannot believe how astonished I was, and elated when I saw those first little green shoots coming up. I ran into the house to tell Mike with such enthusiasm that my husband thought that maybe I had just won the lottery. You see, I grew up in the city, and never once in all of my growing up years did I ever plant anything, and then watch it grow. Like so many other city children of my generation, I had no idea where our food came from; it just ended up on our table for each meal, and I never questioned it or thought about it. Today, I am close to the farm where my husband grew up, and we now have a farm of our own. It is a real joy for me to watch things grow out here in the country; to see the rows and rows of corn and soybeans come up after planting in the spring, but just as important to me is my own little garden at my kitchen window that I watch grow over time, and bring such joy and delight to me on winter days.

This is what is growing from the simple pot above! Maybe I do have a green thump, after all!

PURE JOY

2012-01-12T08:01:00.000-08:00

PURE JOY (grandson, Ben on his 4th B.D.)

When I was a freshman in High School, my good friend and classmate, lived just across the ravine from me. I was often at her house in the evening, in her bedroom, doing homework (darn little), playing records, crank-calling boys and laughing hysterically! My friend's older sister was a senior that year; serious, lacking in humor and, so it seemed to us, no fun at all. Her name was, uncharacteristically, JOY. And like the commercial at the time, my friend and I would say, "Joy in a Bottle," and then add, "don't you wish she was." And then again, we would laugh. How wonderfully naive and silly we were then! But this memory brings me to my thoughts today on the subject of Joy which I added to my Christmas wishes, wishing family and friends "a joyous new year." And as I think of it now, how I wish I could capture that joy in a bottle; save it, and bring it out when I needed it, like on a cold, dreary, winter day. But as we know, not so easy to do, for joy is elusive, undefined, fleeting and often mysterious; here one minute and gone the next. So what are the events, moments, situations etc. that fill us (me) with joy? For me, it can be a first snow storm like the one I am seeing out my window this morning, or it can be a beautifully played symphony. It can be a great class like the one I took this past summer on Music, taught by a great professor. It can be a book I am reading like "Traveling Merceries" by Anne LaMott and so many others, or reading a poem like "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth, or even some of my own which speak to my soul. Nature in all its variety brings me joy; a yellow finch at my bird-feeder; a red bird at my window; a robin with her off-spring in a close-by nest. Browsing in a bookstore brings joy to me as well as a good movie like "Mama Mia." Completing something challenging, like skiing the mountains of Colorado years ago was always cause for joy as well as a beautiful painting or sculpture in a museum. One single flower in a vase or the first tulip of the spring season brings me joy! Laughter always brings me joy. And yes, walking the woods on our farm yesterday with a good friend, in fifty degree January weather, was a great joy! And, as I write this, I am thinking that I need to pay more attention to these times of joy, for, as I begin to relate them here, I realize there are more in my life than I ever knew. So maybe I can begin to store them away, not in a bottle, but in my memory so that I CAN bring them out when I need them, and by their memory bring joy to my life on any day.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

2011-12-29T09:52:00.000-08:00

Every year at this time, I reluctantly and disconcertingly think about New Year's Resolutions that I never keep. For, who's list does not include something to do with food? Either we are going on an out-and-out diet, eating only certain foods over others, getting more exercise or in some way or another, losing weight. And just like my Lenten resolutions growing up Catholic, I seldom made it to the "finish line," especially if it involved giving up candy! SO, this year, I am making a new kind of resolution list that I think I can stick to, and one which will, I hope, be a WIN-WIN, reasonable and even enjoyable. Here is my list, not necessarily in order of importance. What's on your list this year?

1. Go out some nights and look up in wonder at the sky.
2. Go for more walks in the woods.
3. Plant a tree
4. Smile more, especially at people who look as unhappy as I sometimes feel.
5. Make new recipes
6. Buy and cook more locally grown food.
7. Drink tea in the afternoon.
8. Keep the bird-feeders full.
9. Write more letters to my grandchildren
10. Be silly more/ laugh more.
11. Sing more, even if people are around.
12. Have some quiet, meditative time each day.
13. Make more nutritious home-made soups.
14. Spend more time at book stores and libraries.
15. Think of three things each day to be grateful for....

Elves at Christmas

2011-12-22T09:03:00.000-08:00

Recently we went to visit our grandchildren and while there, experienced the joy and excitement the days before Christmas bring. I remember these days as a child, and can still recall the butterflies in my stomach as Santa's visit drew closer.
Today, our grandchildren, in the days before Christmas, enjoy the fun and antics of two special elves who showed up just after Thanksgiving, and have delighted the children with their nightly activities. It is the magic of the North Pole snowflakes sprinkled on themselves each evening which makes them come alive, go on nightly adventures, cause mischief throughout the house and hide for the "grands" to find them in the morning. Some work for the parents, but great delight for the kids!
Elves which first came to be known in Germanic and Scandinavian folklore continue to be mysterious with wonderful supernatural powers. They do lots of good things as well as cause mischief! One thing I like about elves is that they love nature, and dwell in forests, wooded areas and leaf-filled trees. Even Santa's elves are said to head south after Christmas to live in the warm, southern forests until they are called back by Santa to the North Pole. They love the springtime when they celebrate the first blooms and enjoy swimming in lakes and running rivers. Elves have exceptional endurance and as they grow older (some live to be 1,000 yrs.), they become stronger and wiser. (Nice!)
Are elves real? Well now, I don't know. Is Santa real? I put these two questions in the same category. And, all you have to do to answer the Santa question is read the book, "Is There A Santa Claus;" the story of eight year old, Virginia O'Hanlon, who was beginning to doubt, and wrote to the New York Times for the answer. If you do not know the New York Times's answer, it is a book worth finding and reading!
It seems to me that elves can be like angels (do you believe in angels?) in our lives; that we, ourselves, can be elves and angels in each other's lives; not just at Christmas time, but all year long.

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES

2011-12-10T09:36:00.000-08:00

It's that wonderful time of year again, and I am walking down memory lane with all these pictures now displayed on my refrigerator. I love to think about my own Christmases as a child at this time of year; always happy and exciting with my six brothers and sisters in Cincinnati, Ohio. My memories include the time when I was very little, and both my brothers and I were in the hospital through Christmas with Scarlet Fever, and how Mom and Dad had Christmas for us after we were home, presents, trimmed tree and all. I remember putting out food for Santa's reindeer, the Jingle Bells that my parents rang late at night to suggest that Santa was near and all children should be asleep in their beds. On Christmas morning, I remember all of us waiting impatiently for Mother and Dad to get up so that we could go in line from youngest to oldest down the steps singing Jingle Bells into the Living Room to see what Santa had brought. I remember the year that we all got bikes; the year that we all got ice skates; the year that the girls all got beautiful dolls. I remember the only year that we were allowed to open our gifts on Christmas Eve because my mother was about to deliver our youngest sister, Christine Helen, who came on Christmas morning. Always exciting "stuff" going on at our house on Forest Hill Drive! Most Christmases, our large family of children put on Christmas plays for us, put together, costumes and all, after they had eaten, and while the adults enjoyed their Christmas dinner. My memories also include the fun and traditions of my own family and the joy my husband Mike and I had watching our own two little girls open their presents from Santa. One Christmas in Colorado was particularly memorable with a snowstorm that would not allow anyone out of their driveway. We had great friends there, and all Christmas Day we had parties on our front porches all up and down the street, some people getting around on skies. One Christmas we went to New Orleans, where my sister lived. That year we enjoyed the sunshine of the south, and the interesting traditions of the people of New Orleans including burning wood-built structures to burn and light the path of Pere Noel along the Mississippi River. As you can see from the pictures above, we have had many Christmases with our large, extended families which is the best gift of all; to be with, and celebrate this special time with the ones you love the most. One of my fondest thoughts for this season came one year via a poem written by a good friend, then in her 80ies and I will add it here. It is called, "WINTER GARDEN"

WINTER GARDEN

Yes we can have roses in December

Someone has said (I can't remember who?)

Because God gave us memories,

And it is true

Kaleidoscopic pictures turn

Behind closed eyelids, sunsets burn

Of many summers gone.

And tawny woods of autumns sped

Still swirl the leaves inside my head,

Still make my eyes and nostrils sting

With perfume of burnt offering.

The vernal fires of greening trees

Ignite the songs of chickadees,

And lo! The robins and the cardinals come!

No longer, nature stricken dumb

In crystal caves of ice and snow

Indeed, the winter roes grow!

In hearts like mine that are contrary

The monarchs fly in January!

And all bright loves and friendships shine

That once were ever yours and mine.

SARA BUSH

Wise Women

2011-12-04T08:10:00.000-08:00

Friday night in downtown Bloomington, Illinois, I had the entertaining privilege of being one of the three wise women in the living window display at Cross Roads, a Fair-Trade Shop where I volunteer, and am on the Board of Directors. I love the humor in a piece that was sent to me long ago that says, if the three wise kings who came to the manager had been women, they would have asked for directions, gotten there on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stall and would have brought practical gifts. So what is this thing called wisdom, and how do we get it. Well, the most wise person I have known in my life is my father and so I will try to describe what I think wisdom looks like modeled after him. First comes humility. My dad was a very humble guy, often in the lime-light because of his brilliance, but never wanting the lights to shine on him. He was willing to impart his knowledge to all who needed it, but only saw himself as a fellow-traveler with his own flaws. He was never one who knew everything or thought he had all the answers. Secondly, I will mention "listening." My dad was a great listener; he did not take sides nor did he judge you for your thoughts or actions. Mistakes were for learning, and the gathering of wisdom. Dad listened to everyone from the tallest to the smallest; from the judge in a courtroom to my four year old daughter showing the same amount of interest. He was singularly focused and made everyone think that what they were saying was the most important thing, and at the moment, it was. Dad knew that there were things to be learned from "important" people with money as well as those who were poor and without power. He knew that he could learn from children as well as adults. My dad listened to the stories of the kitchen help, the waiters, the sales-clerks, the maids, the garbage men as well as teachers, professors, professionals and CEOs. And in his encouragement of these people, he came to understand life better. He had many different perspectives that contributed to his growing wisdom. Next, I will mention, "suffering." My dad was a deep thinker, and was often pained by the unfairness of life he saw all around him, and often did things to help make people's lives better. So, my dad was keenly aware of the suffering of others, but my Dad suffered also with his own demons and problems , and through that suffering, came to appreciate himself, and all human being as flawed but worthy....most often doing the best that we could each day. There are many qualities that contributed to my Dad's wisdom but the final one I wish to mention is Love. Dad demonstrated his love in the many behaviors of his everyday life. When a poor "off-the-street" man came to see my father at his prestigious law-firm, my Dad welcomed him as he would any client, listened to him, and then took on his cause of saving an Alcoholic Drop-In Center in Cincinnati, Ohio. When the good people of a neighborhood in Cincinnati would not allow a six-person home for mentally challenged adults to be in their midst, Dad took the case to the Ohio Supreme Court and won. The House was named "The Conlan House" after my Dad who found this out minutes before he died. He would not have cared about this honor as much as he cared about the people who could now live there. No problem was too big or small for my Dad, and there were so many times that he helped his seven children, and showed his love to them. I remember one Thursday afternoon at Marquette University in Milwaukee (a long trek from Cincinnati) where my sister was entered into an elocution contest. Right before Maureen spoke, my Dad walked in the room having flown by airplane to hear her speech. Now that is Love! I would like to think that, as I age, I am also learning and gathering wisdom. I am lucky. I had a wonderful role model who gave me some of the tools I needed. I don't always act wise, but I am always striving for the wise approach to my life which my Dad taught me through living his own life.

THANKSGIVING

2011-11-25T09:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and before I sat down to eat turkey and all the trimmings, I intended to write on my Blog the things that I am grateful for in my life. There are, of course, family and friends etc. but there are many more things in my everyday life that I am so thankful for, like the lovely sun that is pouring through the window this morning as I write this! And humor; God, what would we do without humor in our lives? Perhaps this is one of the greatest gifts man has given to himself and to each other. I could not live without it, and the people who have given me the greatest joy in life are also the most funny. So, to them, especially today, when I am thankful for my many blessings, I say thank you to them; those who are still here and those who are gone. So, once again, as I do each year, I will make my list of what I am most thankful for today...this moment; this day in 2011. I will include the sunshine I spoke of earlier, and also good friends, especially those who make me laugh, or laugh with me. I will also include good books that have kept me interested when I am bored to tears, and yes, beauty....beauty all around, especially the beauty I see everywhere in nature.Yesterday, after a large Thanksgiving meal at the farmhouse of my husband's grandparents that is still in the family, I took a long walk down the country road, and around the two lakes there, and then sat on a bench in the sun as it shimmered over the water. A small piece of heaven for me, and a small piece of peace. I would be remiss if I did not say this year that I am also grateful for the wisdom I gather from the books I read, and the peace that comes from reading about those who have come before me, and struggled with the same issues and questions that I have. Their wisdom and words often bring comfort. And last, but not least, I must tell you that I am grateful for cinnamon rolls that have been a tradition on holidays for a very long time in our family. Slathered with butter, they melt in your mouth on a cool Thanksgiving morning with the fire in the fire place, the blanket covering your legs and that good book in your hand ready to read. So many wonderful "little" things to be thankful for; so little time.

A Dreary Sunday Turn-Around

2011-10-31T07:25:00.000-07:00

I don't do well on overcast, dreary days. I always thought that I was immune to such "nonsense" that lack of sun can affect your mood or disposition. I always thought that I was "bigger" than that; who gives in to such a thing??? Not me. Well, then again, yes me. Today was just such a day in central Illinois. And, yes, I did read about the snow storm covering the east coast, but never mind that; I am here under a windy, blustery, cold, overcast rainy day, and right after lunch, and up until 2:30, I was under the covers hoping the day would just go away. But then, I had one ace in my pocket, if I could motivate and muster the energy to get up and out the door to attend an afternoon concert on the campus of Illinois Westley University which was titled, "Love Songs Over All the Earth...Unifying Humanity through Music, Poetry and Art. Well, I got myself there and oh, the joy of it all!
The program talked about the extraordinary powers of music to calm;to shape emotions; to perswade our minds and hearts to beauty's end. When we add the universal and supremely powerful emotions of Love to the extraordinary persuasive power of Music, we have a potent mix to which virtually everyone can respond.
Songs of love were played by the most wonderful violinist I have ever heard, with piano accompaniment, while different masterpieces by famous artists were featured from overhead projector. Along with this, there was a vocalist and poetry readings, all with the theme of love. Love drew me in; the music soothed my soul and the day turned out well.

Halloween Costumes

2011-10-22T10:58:00.000-07:00

Doll made by my sister Maureen (all recycled items)

An advertisement in my newspaper this morning invited people to come to the Ag. Coop Exchange to learn 101 tips for sewing. Oh how I could have used this when my children were little, especially when it was close to Halloween. I am one of seven children and Halloween was one of our favorite days of the year! All that candy!!! We also had a mother who was a good seamstress, very artistic and imaginative. She could whip up a costume, with the help of her children, in a heartbeat, and did every year for each of us. Back then, there were no ready-made costume stores; you had to create your own if you were to be seen in your neighborhood on "All Hallows Eve," pillow-case in hand, going door to door for treats.Around this time every year, my brothers and sisters would sit at the table over dinner and discuss what they were going to be on this frightful night in our young lives. My mother's sharp attention would help to steer the conversation towards something she (we) could either sew up, or create. It was usually my brother John who had the wildest ideas, and often Mother had to discourage him from wanting to be a donkey or a horse, i.e. Then, when we were ready, the Conlan kids would go out en mass, the oldest looking after the youngest, always taking her hand. This would have been my sister Chris. We would go as ghosts, witches, cowboys (cowgirls, my favorite), princesses, exotic, scary creatures, goblins, T.V. characters or cartoons all of which Mother helped to create. Back home with our stash, we would spread out our "loot" across the living room rug trading back and forth for the kinds of candy we liked the best. I always had to watch my two brothers very carefully during this period of exchange. For me, as a kid, Halloween was the best! But as an adult, and mother of two, it was the worst! I was clearly not my mother; I neither sewed nor had her keen imagination and artistic touch. And, even then, there were no Costume stores from which to simply buy an outfit. So, off my children went, year after year, in something created and put together by us...whatever we could come up with at the time, and though I was not my mother, we did not do too badly, even though the weeks before almost gave me hives. The thing we could always count on, however, was that no other kid had their costume; it was a unique creation and one of a kind. Somehow, even with all the angst, I think it was better.
As you can see above, my sister inherited my Mother's artistic talent. Wouldn't this make a great costume???

LETTERS, A LOST HISTORY

2011-10-13T09:39:00.000-07:00

One of the yearly traditions at my private girls' school was to write a letter to my parents each year at Christmas time, thanking them for all the things I appreciated about them. The devoted Sisters of Notre Dame de Mure would have us practice writing these letters in our best cursive handwriting until they were satisfied that the letter looked beautiful, neat and readable. Only then were we allowed to pen the final copy in ink. These were treasures (from five daughters) my mom and dad savored for years, and I found many of them after Mother and Dad were gone.
Ah, the joy of receiving a real letter these days; going to the mailbox and taking out an actual
hand-written note from a sister, brother or a friend.
One historic correspondences of the past were the letters sent between Thomas Jefferson and John Adams who wrote to each other over the years often disagreeing with each other bitterly, but who, through these letter, became fast friends by the end of their lives, both dying on the same day. It was these letters that made them friends. If you read these letters, you will see the historical significance contained in these communications where we are able to see into the minds of these famous men who created and shaped the nation. They depict the human side of history, expressing how these men thought and felt. Letters of the past are one of the major research tools used by schorlars to know famous people of the past, and we have much to learn by reading what they thought and felt.
But today...who writes letter today? When I was in Africa for two years with the Peace Corps, I wrote many letters home, not only to my Mom, Dad and Grandfather, but also to my brothers and sisters. Today, I have all those letters because my Dad, in his wisdom, had them typed and bound. They are a complete history of my time in Africa, and what a joy they are for me to read today. But, best of all, I also kept the palethra of letters sent to me by all of them, which is a two year history of their lives, and often the craziness of growing up in a large Irish Catholic family in Cincinnati, Ohio. I am now in the process of typing these letters and sending them, one per day, to my siblings and we are all laughing out loud remembering some of the histarical moments as they
transversed through high school, college, marriage, leaving home and having babies. I am including a part of one of these letters from my Dad so that you can see how much fun we are all having.
Letter from Dad: June 18, 1965
"Of course, the big event is John's wedding to Carol. Maureen (sister) arrived Thursday a.m. and I met her with Chrissy (sister). The airlines dropped her bag off in Cleveland. It arrived next day. Meantime, Maureen had to buy new dresses to wear. Again, on Thursday, Ginny (sister) had collision with Tom's (brother) car. Ginny not seriously hurt. Car demolished. Can sell for junk only. Like "our" fire,*we are grateful that Ginny wasn't hurt. No insurance on Tom's car. I arrived home about 5:30 p.m. and heard fire sirens approaching. Someone had started incinerator (my grandfather) and it had malfunctioned. It smoldered instead of burning. The whole house was smoke-filled. The same fireman arrived with the same array of equiptment. The Fire Captain admired our house decorations and then spent two hours cleaning the incinerator. The same insurance adjuster was on the phone next morning. We had house mist sprayed before company came. This all happened the night of rehersal dinner. (Dad was referring to a recent incident that had brought the firemen to our house shortly before this time.)
How will people know of us in the future? How will our grandchildren and their children understand "our days?"More importantly, how will they know what we thought and what we felt ? They won't unless we tell them.

Putting Up Tomatoes Again

2011-10-12T07:58:00.000-07:00

TODAY IS THE DAY THAT I WILL SPEND "PUTTING UP TOMATOES." I AM READY WITH MY JARS, LIDS, FRESH TOMATOES AND GREEN PEPPERS FROM THE FARM. A DAY'S WORK THAT WILL LAST A WINTER. TO SEE THE WHOLE PROCESS, GO TO PREVIOUS ENTRY, "PUTTING UP TOMATOES." WHERE I SHOW PICTURES AND TALK ABOUT THE PROCESS.

Message

2011-10-11T07:12:00.000-07:00

October 12, 2011
Good morning, and tis a beautiful morning here in centeral Illinois. Just wanted to share with you that, for some reason, the most RECENT BLOGS that I have written are not coming up first on my BLOG page. If this is also true for you, look at menu to your left to find the most recent entries. Picture above is sunset over Lake Michigan from my sister's deck where we have been privalaged to see many of these.

Harvest in Central Illinois, 2011

2011-10-09T13:23:00.000-07:00

I love the Fall; I particularly love it at Harvest Time in central Illinois. All the farm machinery has been oiled and made ready, and now, it lumbers down country roads heading for the fields for the harvest. Cars, vans and trucks give them the "right of way" without even a toot of their horn; after all, some the these $150,000.00 combines take up the whole road! Today is a perfect Fall Day.

Plenty of sunshine, but also a slight breeze coming across the fields along with the furious dust kicking up behind the machine that is picking off 6-8 rows of corn or soybeans on each round. There is something wonderfully symmetrical about rows of corn and soybeans; the process all transversing along such perfect strait lines...music to my preordained orderly soul. Today, we have our grandchildren with us (4 & 7) and it makes me wonder what those "young eyes" must be thinking as they climb aboard this monster machinery, every bit five times their height. They do not seem to be afraid as their Dad hoists them up the steep steps and places them in the "cab" next to their Uncle Philip for a ride in the "BIG RIG."

Ben (4) is the first to ask his grandfather (Popo) where all the corn is going? "Here, there and everywhere," answers his grandfather. These crops feed the people of the world." What a simple question to jog my thoughts to the magnitude of that question and answer. We help feed the world from our tiny spot here in central Illinois. Wow! And yet, so many go unfed. Such an abundance here in the field, but such hunger here and around the world. We need to do better. Why don't we have a purpose like "no child left behind" to make sure that no child goes hungry. I'm for that; how about you?

THE JOY OF SHARED HISTORY

2011-10-01T06:13:00.000-07:00

Two years ago I had the joy of celebrating a milestone birthday with my High School classmates, and most recently, I reunited with the Peace Corps Volunteers I spent two years with in Tanzania, East Africa. What is it about a shared history, I wondered, that connects us for life, as I walked into the room of Peace Corps Volunteers I hadn't seen in 47 years, but instantly felt close to....
The first thing that came to my mind is that we all had done something profound together, and, at times, something hard where we supported and encouraged each other. We agonized over stuff; laughed deeply together, and "held each other's hand" during tough moments. In many ways, we survived together. Like army buddies, there is a depth of feeling for each other that cannot be penetrated.
Two (although there were many) moments in my shared history come immediately to mind; one, the love and support I received from my High School classmates when a "silly" prank got me into deep water with the good nuns of Notre Dame de Namur. When we all get together, everyone still loves telling this story! We all agonized over my fate together. In Africa, I dodged several serious "bullets" with the help of my Peace Corps buddies and am still here to write about it. Life and death situations shared together certainly connects us! In Colorado during the 80ies, what connected me to my neighborhood girlfriends in Homestead Farm were the joys and traumas of growing up together, trying to become adult-like and becoming parents when all we really wanted to do was party! To this day, I know that those friends helped raise my children and I helped raise theirs.
I have moved away from each of these special groups and as I get older, it becomes harder and harder to have in my life, these kinds of extraordinary, special groups; there just isn't the time to develop the history. For this reason, I will always rejoice when in their company, and be a little sad when they are gone.

50th Peace Corps Celebration/Tanzania

2011-09-26T12:34:00.000-07:00

On December 5, 1964, eighty P.C. volunteers met at Kennedy Airport in New York City to embark on a two year adventure in Tanganyika, East Africa. We would be the 6th Peace Corps group into Tanganyika, and we were going to teach school, most of us, for the first time in our lives, partly in the language of Swahili. We had trained for three months at Syracuse University and were now ready to go. Looking at the picture of this group in New York, sent to me by a fellow volunteer, I wonder now what each of us was thinking at that moment. Me? I was both scared and excited for this adventure to begin, having said good-bye to my Dad, Mom & six siblings who sent me off , by train, from Cincinnati, Ohio (all of us in tears.). At the time, not much was known about the "dark" continent of Africa, so my family was also scared for me to leave. But, oh well; I went anyway.
Forty-seven years later at the 50th Celebration of Peace Corps in Washington, D.C., I met this adventurous group again! Three days sped by as we looked closely at each other for signs of recognition; got names & places strait; shared memories and stories (and pictures); learned what life had brought to each of us, and laughed until the single digit hours of the morning over glasses of wine. We felt like a family again. The years just slipped away, back to the place where we all lived in Tanganyika (Tanzania) for two years both together and separately. We listened to an update of Tanzania 'today' by the former American Ambassador to Tanzania, and left Washington very proud of what we had done and what we had contributed to that Africa country.
Today, there are 125 Peace Corps volunteers in Tanzania, East Africa serving in the fields of health, Aids prevention, Environment, Engineering and Education (Tanzania has asked for many more U.S. teachers). President Obama feels that Tanzania is one of the strongest and well run countries in Africa today.
Aside from all that, personally, this was one of the most wonderful, thrilling, satisfying and fun adventures of my life.

50th Celebration Peace Corps

2011-09-17T08:02:00.000-07:00

On this coming Thursday, September 22, 2011, I will fly to Washington, D.C. for the 50th celebration of the Peace Corps. In November of 1964, after joining and training for the Peace Corps, I flew to Tanzania, East Africa to teach for two years in an African boys' boarding school, called Mysengi Upper Primary School in Musoma, Tanzania right on Lake Victoria, the second largest lake in the world. It was one of the highlights of my life and to this day, it was one of the best things I ever did for myself!!! I am going to continue this entry with a "writing" I did for "The Summit," my high school in Cincinnati, Ohio, when it came out with a book called, "This I Believe." I share this with all of you in celebration of the Peace Corps of 50 years.
Entry:
I left Cincinnati by train on a snowy November morning. My family, mom, dad, two brothers and four sisters were all at Winton Train Station to see me off. Everyone was crying and my youngest sister, Chris, held me tight, not wanting to let me go. I was off to New York City to meet the Peace Corps Group I had trained with for three months at Syracuse University, and then heading to East Africa for two years. There I would teach school at Mysengi Upper Primary School, a boys' boarding school in Musoma, Tanzania, right on Lake Victoria. To the alarm of my mother, (my dad was too proud of me to be alarmed) I was off to the Dark Continent that, at this time, few people seemed to know much about. I was alarmed myself, and very scared, but I did not want to show I was feeling less brave than my family thought I was, and when I waved tearfully good-bye to them through the train window, my stomach doing flip-flops, I had no idea this would be one of the most enriching experiences of my life.
Living in a third world country, being a minority for the first time in my life, and having to communicate in Swahili taught me many things about myself, and about what is really important in life. I experienced a completely different and more simple way of living; a way of life which had never occurred to me before. As an American with a task-orientated mind-set, I was always in a hurry to get something done; to accomplish something. In Africa, the pace was much slower, the Africans taking time to be with each other, to laugh and talk together, and to help each other. They went about their lives with a joy and happiness I had never known before. One day, while I was racing to town on my bike with an important errand, my African neighbor ran out into the road waving her arms. Annoyed with delay, I almost missed her beautiful gift to me. Mrs. Mbaya stood in my path and sang Happy Birthday to me in perfect English. She had been practicing for weeks, and this was her present to me on my birthday. She knew no other English.
Over two years time, I came to love the African people and all the ways they had of living more simply on the earth. The school children taught me how to plant a vegetable garden (this city girl had never done that before) and to enjoy their simple games with sticks and stones they found all around them. They loved to sing, and showed me the joy that came from music and singing, no matter what the task. The sweet voices of the African children still ring in my heart today. I can still hear them singing. Their presents to me were always simple, like the birthday song. Sometimes it was something they had cooked or woven together like wild flowers or a small basket. One day, a knock on my door brought two African students to my porch holding an empty bird's nest for me, huge smiles on their faces that melted me more than the hot beating sun..
The African people were models of courage and endurance to me. Some of our students walked ten miles or more each morning to school. This included all of the girls who could not board at the school. Most never missed a day. And when faced with danger, i.e. a giant python in our school yard one day, the Africans went towards the problem with a solution instead of running away. That day, the whole school followed behind or African headmaster with a rifle over his shoulder to hunt the python that was making its way toward the Lake.
At the time I taught school in Africa, only ten percent of male students were able to go on to high school due to a shortage of secondary teachers and facilities. The competition to go on to high school was fierce. When one day we had to miss a class due to a late breakfast, the students refused to eat unless we made up their class on Saturday. Education and learning are so important to the African children, and the opportunities for higher education are rare, even today. The African children taught me to appreciate my education more than I ever had, and to not take it for granted. I found the African people I lived and worked among to be genuinely happy people in spite of hardships. They knew how to smile, laugh, dance, tease, and joke with each other and to find happiness in simple things. What a life lesson for me! They had so much fun with my inadequate ability to speak good Swahili, and would love to tease me, but were always gracious in trying to help me speak better. Most of all, they knew how to laugh at themselves, and taught me to do the same.
What do I believe? I believe in taking some risks in life, and getting out of our comfort zones. I was afraid when I went to Africa, but I did it anyway. I remember thinking that I had a 50/50 chance of ever coming home, but the experience enriched my life more than I could ever have imagined, and I think I did some good along the way. Today, I still try to stretch myself, learn more, get out of my comfort zone now and then, and never forget the lessons I learned in Africa.

Small Town Support

2011-09-13T06:53:00.000-07:00

In my book, "To See a Sundog," I begin with the line: "The town of Sawhill, Missouri is like a mobile that gently swings back and forth, and on most days it swings in harmony, but when one side of the mobile tips and bends, the whole town tips and bends with it." Further in the book, I talk about the help everyone gives to each other in small towns especially in times of crisis, i.e. the time one of the town's well know farmers brakes his back, and the rest of the men around Sawhill bring in his crops after their own crops are harvested. (A lot of work!) Saturday night, I had the occasion to experience this kind of small town help and support for a young man from my husband's small town of Colfax, Illinois who has cancer, without insurance, where 200 plus of the town's people came together for a fund-raising effort and raised over $15,000.00. My husband and I attended and saw just about everyone we knew in Colfax, from the youngest to oldest. Food was donated and served; a band played without cost; a bake-sale ensued (I actually baked a cherry pie), 20 donated, filled baskets were auctioned in a silent auction, and there was also a live auction of about 50 items, all donated. Everyone was having a great time, and always surprising to me (a city girl), everyone knew everyone!!! I know that small town America is not for everyone, but the interconnection of lives lived, laughed, succeeded and struggled together is one of the biggest rewards of this way of life. It has been my privilege to be part of it in a small way.

A Walk in the Woods on our Farm

2011-09-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

We have had a whole week of Fall-like weather which has been a great relief after a very hot summer. We have been anxious to get out to our farm in the country to enjoy the lake there, and also to have a picnic and bon-fire which we especially like to do in September/October. Several years ago, my husband and his two brothers decided to put our farm of some 80 acres into conservation. In doing this, they reclaimed the lake that had dried up, created a road, and then planted some 3,000 trees! The Barclay men did all of this work themselves, and now continue to trim areas for better sunlight to trees, maintain a walking trail through the woods, and stock the lake with fish. Our family has come to love this special place in the woods, and tomorrow, we will have a gathering there for a cook-out followed by a bon-fire. The above picture shows our picnic table where we will dine. To me, there is nothing better than being out in nature.....the farm is so peaceful and perfect with only the sounds of chirping birds, rustling trees in the wind and an ocassional fish jumping in the lake. Lovely butterflies flit about, and sometimes we encounter the deer that live in our woods. William Wordworth wrote, "the world is too much with us; late and soon...Guilty and spending; we lay waste our powers...Little we see in Nature that is ours....." For me, I enjoy turning off the T.V., muting the cell phone, shutting down the computer, and going for a walk in the woods....the real peace and joy for me can be found there.

Rabbit Hash, Kentucky

2011-09-06T07:11:00.000-07:00

How many times have we wanted to take the road less traveled; go down an unknown path or enjoy the mystery (and, or risk) of an unknown adventure? I think the human spirit craves this kind of thing, and so, without hesitation, I agreed to participate with my artist sister in an arts and crafts show in Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. If you live in Cincinnati where my sister lives, you get to Rabbit Hash by crossing the Ohio River and then going south on I75 until a turnoff that brings you right along the historical Ohio River on the Kentucky side. I say historical because this river, a little upstream from Cincinnati, was one of the main crossing places for the Underground Railroad where slaves were able (where the river was low and narrow) to cross over from a slave state to a free state. If you ever get to Cincinnati, be sure to visit the inspirational Underground Railroad Museum there, downtown right on the river. But I diverse. Back to Rabbit Hash....and getting there. The winding road you are on along the river narrows to one lane after you have passed beautiful horse farms with those wonderful white wood fences, and soon you are, almost without noticing, right in the middle of Rabbit Hash, a town with one General Store (above), one place to eat, and lots of charm, history and old stuff gathered in the one large antique store. Like so many places hidden away from theInterstate Highways we travel, this place is a treasure, and a slice of America that most of us never see as we race from one place to another. I am glad now that I know about Rabbit Hash, with its charm and beauty along the Ohio River, but it makes me wonder what other places I am missing as I hurry the highways. I am fortunate to live on the edge of the country amidst so many small farm towns and communities, yet, have the conveniences of a large town. I know what is beyond our highways, and it is worth getting off the Interstate now and then to take a look, and experience the wonder, life and beauty just over the horizon left and right....

Back to Blogging

2011-09-05T13:46:00.000-07:00

It has been way too long since my last BLOG, but I have just finished reading a Biography called, "Reading My Father," by the author's daughter, Alexandra Styron about her Dad (William Styron) who won the Pulitzer for the novel, "Sophie's Choice" in the 80ies and the writing juices began to flow in me again. I really am happiest when I am writing, and so, once again, I am committing to this BLOG on a regular basis. Not every day, but regularly! I remember starting to read "Sophie's Choice" back when I lived in Denver, and I cried all day and into the next. My husband asked me what was wrong, and I said that the book I was reading made me so sad. My husband, in his wisdom, said, "Well then, stop reading it!" I took his advice and never finished it. On the other hand, the book I just finished about the author is very, very good, and his daughter is an excellent writer in her own right. Actually, the story is as much about her own path in life, growing up with an overbearing Dad with mental illness as it is about the author himself. I have been reading lots of Biography and Autobiography and I find that I really like these books the best...the real stuff and struggles of life. I am now reading "J.D. Salinger," by Kenneth Slawenski, copyright 2010 and am so fascinated by this character that I plan to go back and reread, "Catcher in the Rye" and the Glass Family books. Salinger became such a mystery and recluse in his later adult years, but in his early years of writing, he was quite visable and fasinating. I recommend both of these books if you enjoy reading about the real lives and struggles of famous authors. Tomorrow, I want to tell you about my time with my sister in Rabbit Hash, Kentucky this summer!

Pure Joy

2011-01-08T06:03:00.000-08:00

I always wondered what "pure joy" looked like and I think I have finally found it in this picture of my two grandchildren swimming late in the evening in Lake Michigan, close to our long-time cottage in northern Michigan. Another picture which I received in a Christmas card this year also strikes me as a picture of "pure joy." This little girl is Anabelle Tousand, granddaughter of long-time friends of ours. What could be more wonderful to see than the innocent joy found so often in children? And given what joy looks like, what does it sound like? Well, for me, it sounds like the Chicago Symphony playing its Christmas Christmas program which I attended this past holiday as a present from my daughter and her husband. When you close your eyes and just listen, it is heaven! And what does "pure joy" feel like? Well, for me, it was getting into bed the other night with crisp, clean, fitted sheets that felt so cool and lovely that I almost soared. What is "pure joy" for you?

20 Good Trends in 2011

2010-12-31T06:21:00.000-08:00

Perhaps there IS something to sing about as we head into the New Year, 2011! According to statistics, good things are happening in this country even though we cannot always see them. Here is an upbeat list to ponder as we head into the future. We can only hope that we continue on this upward path.

1. We are safer. Crime is down. The number of crimes in the U.S. has continued to decrease since 1989.

2. W use less energy. Since 1989, the average per-person consumption of energy has decreased about nine percent. And, the economy as a whole is becoming more energy efficient, down 53 % to produce a dollar's worth of goods and services.

3.We give more. We are giving more time and money to philanthropic endeavors. Americans gave $3 billion to charities in 2009, and more in 2010.

4.The use of public mass transit grew 38 % from 1995-2008 and is even higher today, thus, conserving fuel.

5.We are living longer and feeling better. People today will live, on average, ten years longer than their parents, and according to "Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences," people over 50, decrease their levels of stress, anxiety and worry.

6.Young people are making smarter decisions about their well-being. High School students are using less drugs and smoking less with greater numbers of teens perceiving these as dangerous to their health.

7. We are connecting and social networking with people more than ever before resulting in an increase in happiness. For example, more and more marriages are the result of the couple meeting via the Internet.

8.We can connect easier, even while flying in an airplane. And while this can be either good or bad, it is a tool that we have available to us almost anywhere we are in the world. An example, in 1964-66, I was in the Peace Corps living in Africa. I was not able to talk with my family for two and a half years, whereas today, volunteers can call up their Mom from almost anywhere.

9. Our bonds are stronger. The rate at which couples are getting divorced continues to fall, from 4.0 per every 1,000 in 2000 to 3.5 in 2008.

10. We are giving things away before we throw them away. For example: the online site: freecycle.org has mushroomed. In our town of Normal, we have a column in The Pantagraph Newspaper called "Good Neighbor" where people give and take what they have.

11. Our forests are growing. The total acreage of forested land in the U.S. has increased during the last 30 years according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

12. We breath cleaner air. Since 1990, levels of six common air pollutants have fallen, and in most of the country, concentrations of carbon monoxide, lead and nitrogen dioxide are below federal standards to protect human health and the environment.

13. We drive more carefully with the result of less fatal accidents.

14. We are growing more of our own food and enjoying the benefits. Farmer's Markets are everywhere, and people are realizing the value of buying their produce etc. here, and enjoying fresher tastes. The nation as a whole is realizing the amount of fuel, time and preservation it takes to not buy food locally.

15. Public smoking bans are now in almost every state, and places where this law is in place, there is a significant decline in emergency room visits for heart attacks.

16. We buckle up when driving; at least most of us do with the results being less serious injuries in an accident.

17. Bees are making a come-back with the result of less threat to crops and eventually the health of our food supply. More than 100.000 estimated back-yard beekeepers are fighting back the plight of the disappearing bees. A good friend of mine is one of them!

18. Women are healthier. Breast Cancer is on the decline.

19. We move more, resulting in healthier bodies and the message to do this to fight obesity is everywhere.

20. We understand the power of positive thinking with more upbeat attitudes and less pessimism. We now know more about the mind-body connection and how it affects our health.

THE BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT OF ALL

2010-12-23T08:30:00.000-08:00

It was the coldest of winters that year and Christmas Eve came to the Conlan house with howling winds and snow on the ground. It had been a hectic time for our family without the full attention of our mother who loved holidays and parties, and loved to deck the halls. She had not even sat down at the piano to play Christmas carols with all of us gathered around to sing along. It was a different year, and a very different feeling permeated our household. We had help in the house but it wasn't the same; Mother always showed us how to wrap our presents and tie the bows so that the presents under the tree looked like art. (My mother was an artist.) But this year, Mother was clearly tired, and she looked wane and worried. We had not even gone to the Cincinnati Crone Conservatory to see the live creche where Mary and Joseph sat among live animals and waited for their baby to arrive, which is just what my mother was doing that Christmas Eve. Mother herself was heavy with child carrying our youngest sister Christine Helen to arrive on Christmas morning. Mother wanted to see all of us open our Christmas presents before she went off to the hospital, and I can still see her sitting in our vast hallway in an antique velvet chair, small packed suitcase at her feet, hat and coat on. She was delighting in the sounds of her children's excitement and joy as we, one by one, opened our gifts. I received a shiny black three-speed bike that my two brothers carried up from the basement. I was in awe, totally unaware of the real treasure in the room that Christmas, unknown and unseen by all of us.
After the last gift was unwrapped, Dad carefully walked Mother to the family station wagon in the driveway, and we all waved good-bye as they drove away. We then ripped into our toys and treasures, playing until bedtime which came all too early. And, no bells were rung from our rooftop that night; a tradition every year, and no one set cookies and carrots out for Santa and his reindeer. Santa had already been to our house, but he had not brought the best present of all....our sister, Chris, who came home with Mother a week later form the hospital.

* Art by my sister Maureen Conlan.

Christmas

2010-12-10T07:57:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are; Christmas time again! This will be my 70th, and I am sitting here remembering some of the more memorible ones. As a young girl growing up, the year that I turned twelve, my mother was pregnant with my youngest sister (of six siblings) and that Christmas eve, I can still see my mother sitting with her coat and hat on, in our hallway, small suitcase next to her, watching us open our Christmas presents before she went off to the hospital to deliver Christine Helen. That year I received a shinny new black three-speed bike that my dad brought up from the basement, and I thought that was the best Christmas present I had ever received. And it was not until I realized in years to come that the real Christmas present that year was my wonderful sister Chris who continues to be a blessing in all our lives today. That too was the only Christmas that the Conlan kids were allowed to open their gifts on Christmas eve.
As a child growing up, the tradition in our house was to go to bed early and listen for Santa's sleigh bells which one of my parents rang sometime in the night for us to hear. This happened after we had put out cookies, milk for Santa, and carrots for Santa's raindeer. Christmas morning, each of us (seven) took our place on the steps going downstairs according to age, the youngest first, and waited, and waited, and waited for everyone to get up, especially Mom and Dad. Then, as we decended the stairs together, we all sand Jingle Bells. This was our tradition, and I remember it with great fondness. Usually, under the tree, there was one big gift for each of us, and I remember the year that we all got ice skates.
When we moved to Colorado, our family created our own traditions, one of them being to gather with our neighbors on Christmas eve to put together things for our children. One year, we had the biggest snow storm ever on Christmas morning and I remember neighbors up and down the street on skies, sleds, and snow shoes going from porch to porch where Christmas goodies were being offered and served. We had lots of snow, but also that fabulous Colorado sunshine.
What really strikes me about Christmas as I get a little older is that all my favorite memories around Christmas involve the people I most love and cherish. One year I flew home from Colorado and surprised my mom and dad, wearing a big red bow in my hair. This was the Christmas before my dad died, and I am so glad I had that special time with him. Another year, our family flew to New Orleans to be with my sister and her family, each of us wearing a T-Shirt on the plane that, when standing together, spelled "Merry Christmas Meltons, HoHoHo." Everyone on the plane loved it, and we loved being in New Orleans that holiday. This Christmas we will be with our small, but mighty family of seven, and will delight, as we have in past years, watching the "grands," Sara (6) and Ben (3) open their Christmas toys. Ah the delight, the wonder, the belief that "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus." And, if you have not read that book recently, I suggest that when you do, you will, once again, believe in "Santa Claus."

Fall, 2010

2010-11-11T07:31:00.000-08:00

I have to say that I love the Fall. And this year, we have had a beautiful one here in central Illinois. I can appreciate it more this year as I compare it to last year when we had rains into December that all too quickly took away the colors of this lovely season. Last year when my husband helped his brothers with the harvest (which he does every year)he came home late at night and was up early, sometimes 4:00 a.m. to get in line to empty the corn or soybeans at the grain elevators. It was a messy harvest to say the least, and the farmers around here said it was the worst in living memory. Amen. They finally finished in early December. This year, the harvest was finished in mid October and the colors are still visible today on the trees and bushes. Today, the weather is still in the 70ies and my husband is on the golf course with his two brothers. This may be the "last" of it, however, which is why I am writing about it. When it is cold, rainy and damp in the months to come, I will want to remember days like this and remind myself that they will come again. (Pictures taken at our Farm.)

Family and a Walk in the Woods

2010-11-06T07:30:00.000-07:00

What could be more wonderful than a walk in the woods with your family? Here, my precious family is taking a rest after a crisp Fall walk through nature trails, colorful paths and along a sky-blue tranquill lake. For me, this is truly what makes life worthwhile, and joyful! Family and nature; nature and family. Two really great things life has provided me, and I am so grateful for both! And when the two come together, well then, it is just wonderful. I believe that the universe provides us these moments so that the rest of the time, when we are in the trenches with problems and worry, we can remember these days with the hope that there will be more. It has been true in my life. I must remember this.

Voting

2010-11-02T09:49:00.000-07:00

Today, November 2, 2010, I am writing this from the Urbana, Illinois Free Library...a great place I discovered while here visiting my daughter. This is the college town of the University of Illinois with lots of thinking going on....some good; some not so good. And, downstairs today at the library, people are walking in to vote as this is a polling place, and this is the day for that. For the first time in my adult life, I am not casting a ballot. My father, who was quite active in the Democratic Party all his life would surely roll over in his grave if he knew. Around our big Irish family dining room table each night growing up, the topic of conversation would often turn to politics....usually what the Democrats were doing right vs. what the Republicans were doing wrong. I was highly influenced by this on-going dialogue, and usually vote just to the left of center. But not this year. This year I have come to view Politics like I view many other traditional institutions these days, as businesses with big money interests. We used to joke that "the boys with the most toys, win." Today, the party with the most money contributions, wins. I have lost any trust I once had in a process that does not, in my opinion, use values, honesty and reasonableness in what they represent. I don't know what the rally in Washington with John Steward accomplished, but minimally, if it pointed to how far we have come in lacking any fair-play and decency in our dialogue of differences, then it perhaps did some good. We are very far from what I think our forefathers wanted for this country to become great; they knew we had to have moral choices, American values and a way to discuss our differences with civility. When we get back to these kinds of choices, I will go to the polls again.

What is Beauty

2010-10-29T08:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I attended a beautiful lunch and style show at my daughter's Fashion Boutique where she is a new manager. This Boutique is one of a kind and is called Bella Mia, located in Champaign, Illinois. The show was stunning with lovely models and rich high fashion; so delightful to look at and admire. It brought to mind some thoughts.
My mother used to say, "People will always treat you the way you look and dress...that first impressions are crutial." My mother was quite stylish in her dress and manner but I don't think this was the essence of what she wanted to convey to me. Mother meant that one should always look "put together," (not necessarily fashionable), neat, and dressed in presentable clothes that fit well. She particularly wanted me to make sure that my children looked nice when they went out with clean combed hair, washed faces and clean outfits.
"Your children will benefit from the positive affirmations they get, even from strangers (when babies) when people treat them as well as they look, and she was right....babies and children soak up positive messages like a sponge. The opposite is also true; children instantly sense when negative messages are coming their way. And like it or not, people do react positivly or negatively according to what they see.
The other message I received around the idea of beauty was from my Dad.
"Beauty is only skin deep," he would say..."the rest is up to you."
He would often suggest to his five daughters that women of great beauty in our society were at risk of never being anything else. Women especially have been highly idolized for nothing more than looking fabulous. This is a danger my father would say; the danger of not becoming anything of any worth or consequence. Of course, my father was an intellectual who highly prized education above all else, and was always promoting the value of this. I was blessed by his ferver and determination to give the same love of learning to all of his children. My mother valued this as well but, on ocassion, when the whole family was together, seven children and their offsprings, she would look around the room and say, "Aren't we all just so good looking." I was doubley blessed, I guess.

What Do Workers Have to Do With It?

2010-10-22T15:04:00.000-07:00

Today I thought about all the people that are in place to serve me and keep my life going. How often I forget about the chain of laborers that work behind the scenes to make my life easier, and manageable. Take for example, the simple act of going to the grocery store to buy bananas. Where did these bananas come from? Who grew them? Were they paid a living wage (wherever they were) to grow them? And how did they end up in MY grocery store? How were they transported? Airplane, and then truck, train???? How many people were involved in that step? Were they paid enough money for their efforts? And who unboxed them and put them out for display after checking them to see that they were o.k. to sell? Were they paid well enough? And the checkout person, and baggers; how about them? I wonder; if I added up the total cost of getting that one bunch of bananas to me, what would it be? Today, in America, we are challenged with many problems. One of those problems is people who are not getting enough money to live well enough. There are no easy solutions, and everyone these days has a different opinion about what to do. I do not have a solution either. I just want us not to forget that many of these people are the very ones that serve us and help keep our lives going. This is not a new idea, and actually, I thought about it after reading an excerpt from a quite famous author who I now cannot remember (perhaps Yeats) who said,
"The woollen coat, for example, which covers the day-labourer, as course and rough as it may appear, is the product of the joint labour of a multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the wool comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others must all join different arts in order to complete even this homely production......without the assistance and co-operation of many thousands, the very meanest person in a civilized country could not be provided;, even according to what we very falsely imagine, the easy and simple manner in which he is commonly accommodated.

Chilean Miners Rescue

2010-10-14T09:24:00.000-07:00

It is rare indeed when the world comes together to celebrate something extrodinary. I believe that many tears were shed around the globe as the last Chilean miner emerged from the tiny man-made capsule that brought him, the last of 33 miners, 700 meters underground (half mile, I think) for 68 days, to the terra firma of his homeland. There are many heros surrounding this story from the men themselves who kept each other going and shared their meger rations, to the rescuers who NEVER gave up in spite of discouraging results along the way. (It took 17 days to even locate the miners.)
What makes a HERO really? One who is not afraid to do the hard, brave thing, or do the thing that is right? Just the opposite, really. A hero is a person who IS afraid, but does the hard, brave, right thing anyway. I feel that there is such a dirth of heros in our world today. Do you feel the same? Of course, the men and women defending our country every day are heros; they are the reason we live in freedom. But who else? Sadly, I think, most potential heros of today have gone the way of big money or political advantage. Can our country survive without real, genuine heros? I don't think so. Bill Gates, and his wife Melinda are examples, I think, of what one person, persons can heroically do to make the world better. This country needs more heros like them, me included, which makes me ponder here at my desk what I might do in my very small speck of the world to be hero-like. What can I do? Hmmmmm.

Barns Continued

2010-09-16T05:57:00.000-07:00

What in life endures, I am not sure, but as I drive down country roads and see the barns that dot the family farms, I know it is these barn weathered becons that do remain, and I am awed by their presence and captivated by their charm. They are as rooted in the earth as the farm families living near with stories to tell of those who tilled the land, and planted well the bread baskets of the world, and then perserved their crops in these barn hollowed lofts. Some stand facing the sun; others see rust colored sunsets as shadows creep up one side and down the other of their warn-weathered sides. They have outlasted the darkest storms, the heaviest winds, pelting snows, and have given refuge and safe harbor within for farm animals to grow: calfs, fouls, young kittens, and for down-and-outs, and for run-away slaves who in darker days had nowhere to go. They are housed hidden among rolling hills or stand hard upon flat, firm landscapes, while colorful paints and peelings catch your eye as you drive by. Some barns have messages to take to heart: "Jesus saves; Repent; chew mail pouch tobacco" in years gone by. How many years has each barn stood, I do not know and their future fate I can only surmise.....the year and date of their demise. But I know this for sure; they will remain and endure long after I am gone.

Barns

2010-09-14T20:02:00.000-07:00

So what is it about barns that I love? Well for one thing; I love their history. I love the thought that they house animals, crops and grains which feed the people who make their living from the farms they cultivate and the animals they raise. I love the idea that they are different shapes and sizes, and also different colors, but I love the red painted barns the best. There is something so earth solid about barns; something about barns that say that is all you need to survive...a good sturdy barn. I love the fact that barns housed run-away slaves in their day, perhaps on their way to freedom, and perhaps were the places where one could take shelter from the cold, rain and stormy weather. I have had the opportunity to see many barns from the inside out here on the prairie in central Illinois, and the intricate, solid beams and criss-crossed planks are amazing to see. It is no wonder that barns last so long, as was certainly the intention when men built them. I love the idea of an old fashioned barn raising. What could be more heart warming than a community of farmers coming together to help their neighbor build his barn. Yes, I love barns, and all the history and folk lore that goes with them. I am not a four legged animal, but I think I could be happy living in a barn.

2010-09-12T14:46:00.000-07:00

There is something so "green", earthy and satisfying about "putting up" your own tomatoes. I only have to read my February 3ed entry to know how much we love these jars of fresh tomatoes (i.e. sauce) in the middle of winter. There is absolutely nothing like the flavor of fresh grown tomatoes any time of year, but, ah to have it in winter...that is heaven. I learned to do this from Mike's mom who took care of everything on their farm including canning every kind of vegetable and fruit imaginable. Today we are moving back to the basics of eating what farmers grow all around us. We are lucky to live just a stone's throw (or about two miles) from a fresh farmer's market in the country, and we also have a very active farmer's market here in Normal, Illinois. Eating "fresh" has spoiled us. We can now tell the difference. This is one aspect of the "going green" movement that we love. I now have my process of "canning" tomatoes down to a science. It takes a few important kitchen tools, and some very exact steps. First I core the top part of the tomato (just a small cutting out of the tip); second, I drop the tomatoes into boiling hot water for about two minutes, take them out and peel the skin which comes off easily after this short boiling. I shed the skin while holding the tomato under running cold water as it is very hot. I then put these tomatoes into a large container (I use our large roasting pan). I chop up onions and peppers to go with the tomatoes, smash up the tomatoes and then stir in the onions and peppers. Salt a little. All of this goes into a large pot on stove to heat to almost boiling. Then I boil the canning jars with their lids; take them out one at a time and pour in the tomato sauce. I seal them tight. If you have sealed them correctly, you will hear a popping noise after a short amount of time to indicate, the seal is o.k. Now, I know this seems like a lot of work, but I did today's batch this morning, all before 10:00 a.m. But, I once told a friend of mine about this "putting up" of tomatoes and she said she also "put up" tomatoes. She said that she goes to the grocery store, picks out several cans of tomatoes, brings them home, takes them out of the bag, and then "puts them up" into her kitchen cupboard. Both ways are good; one just tastes better.

2010-08-31T09:45:00.000-07:00

I am so often thinking about the yin and yang of life; the ups and downs; the joys and the sorrows; the good and the bad, and always come back to the idea that there is a pattern to all that exists in our universe. There are so many wise words around this concept; that when a door closes, a window opens; that one must travel through the darkness to get to the light etc. and it seems to be true, but darn it, I don't always like it. Oh that life could be easier without so many heartaches. Doesn't it just make you so mad at times! And I get a little tired of hearing about all the life lessons I am learning as I struggle along with difficult situations. I want to scream some days that I get it; no more life lessons, and for heavens sake, I am old enough now to have learned most of them. Give me a break. But, I have found, even though life does give us "breaks" now and then, they don't last. Right now, I am in the "valley" with several painful situations which seem to be overwhelming and all consuming. What helps me is to remember this idea of the yin and yang of life, and that someday, perhaps maybe not soon, that window will open and the sun will shine.

2010-08-20T11:45:00.000-07:00

I am very excited to tell all of my readers about a Web Site created by several wonderful women writers in Cincinnati, Ohio, including my sister Maureen Conlan, that can be found at http://www.writers-resource-cafe-com/ If you love to write, as I do, this is the place not only to enjoy writing ideas from the many prompts they recommend, but also to find a plethora of ideas about writing in all kinds of media: poems, essays, short stories and novels. They have tips on how to get published; how to enjoy writing more; how to develop characters etc. and just about everything that goes into writing today. Along with all of this wonderful information are examples of writing from these four experts. My sister is also an artist, and you can find some of her beautiful art at the top of some of the writing pieces. You can also submit some of your own writing and create your own Blog page on this site. This is good stuff, for sure, and should be enjoyed and shared by all writers, serious or otherwise, today. A short poem of mine that was picked up on this site with the prompt of "lillies delivered to your door without a signiture" was this:

Lillies at my door
Who are they for?
No name
What a shame
I'm allergic to flowers
They make me sneeze
So, what to do?
In lieu of taking them in
Give them to my neighbor
In twenty-two B
And say they're from me
Oh yeah! I like that idea.

I have some additional entries on this site as well, several other poems and one short story called The Homecoming if you are interested in reading them.

Hank and Henrietta

2010-08-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

Today, as I drink my first cup of coffee, out my screen porch, sits our dove, Henrietta in a nest of her own making, feeding her new baby. I was surprised by this. After all, it is August and I thought all new baby birds arrived int he Spring. Apparently not. This is an amazing sight to watch and follow each morning as Henrietta or her mate, Hank, flies off to find food, and then returns to the nest to nourish their offspring. Hank and Henrietta have been with us for fifteen years, arriving the same year we moved into our new house, and returning each year, usually some time in February. Years ago I wrote a poem to celebrate our doves and will share it here.

Hank and Henrietta

One dove sits quietly, patiently

In the Evergreen tree, waiting

Stretching her neck to see her mate

Come swooping down to meet her

They have come back every year, these doves

To our back yard meadow

Since they first set up house in our tree

Feathering and nesting young doves

And then, nudging them from their nest

To fly from here, and find their own place to be.

And though I don't always attend to

nature's curious signs

I cannot help myself this morning

When I see these two love birds

Back again on February 23ed.

They are the same two we now call Hank and Henrietta

Coming back every year

From the very beginning, from the very start

Showing off their love, loyalty and family

And giving me an "aha" moment I can clearly see

That natures models life, and teaches harmony

Paradox of Man

2010-08-14T08:09:00.000-07:00

My friend Chris who passed away was a deep thinker, perhaps too deep, but he had an insaciable curiosity about human nature and what motivated man to choose one path over another; what drove "him" to certain things, and what he perceived as the paridoxical nature of man. He clearly saw "the struggle" in choosing those things that led us to our authentic self, and those things that led us away from it. He wondered why it was so hard for man to live a disciplined and committed life, choosing that which was good for him. He pondered things like food, materialism, drugs, alcohol and sex, all potential temtations for misuse and distraction, and the things that can pull man away from real self actualization. Chris was a writer and an artist and a perfectionist. He drove himself passionatly to create beauty and honesty in the world thruough these two artistic venues. But he sometimes got caught up in the other side of his personality which he believed could be distructive. At times, he felt that there was a magnet type pull to this side of human nature that could not be denied; that it was out of man's control to resist.
This is by no means a new observation or a new question, but it is one that continues to plague mankind as it did my friend. Chris was always searching to understand this dicotimy, and though he could not find the answers he was seeking, he did experience the struggle.
Now, for Chris, the struggle is over but for us it continues. In the words of Michael Arlen, "there is one taste in all of us that is unsatisfied. I don't know what that taste is, but I know it is there. Life's best gift, hasn't someone said, is the ability to dream of a better world."
I welcome comment and dialogue about this observation.

A Dear Friend Gone

2010-08-13T13:40:00.000-07:00

I have not been blogging lately. I have been grieving the loss of a very close and dear friend who passed away at the very young age of 31. Chris was like a son to my husband and me, and he will be sorely missed by both of us. Chris was such a bright, intelligent, energy-filled star in our lives with his passion for reading (only smart books), writing and art. When I was sick, he brought me flowers. He brought me special books he knew I would like to read. He took me to Chicago to see the Shakespeare Play, Troilus and Cressida that he and I were reading aloud together. He came on Sundays with his New York Times for us to read and talk about, especially the book section. I still cannot fathom that he is gone. I wrote a poem.
CHRIS
A friend of mine has passed away
And the loss is more for me to say
Than for him to lament
What now he does not know
How my heart sits low
With the loss of his smile and grace
Oh how he made me laugh
His presence was too loud
To now be gone
Gone now, gone for good
Lying dormant in the cemetery wood
Sometimes I hear his voice yet
Whispering in my soul
That sound that made him whole
And special just to me
He says he is not really gone
But my deepest sense
Knows our time together is no more
Yes my friend is gone....
No need now for seasonal clothes
Annoying exercise, and eating healthy foods
All that was spent when he went away
And now I hear him say
Take everything, my treasures, all my things
That made me Chris, your friend
And pitch the rest
I have no need for these
******************************************
And as I journey on
In all the days left to me
It will never be the same
I shall never see again
Those things we say together
In quite a similar way
Or enjoy as heartily
LIFE
Without him here
To share with me.
******************************************
I will miss you, dear friend.

Mythology Class

2010-06-29T05:51:00.000-07:00

I am having lots of fun this summer taking a Mythology class at the community college where I live and also work. I am revisiting the Iliad and the Odyssey and all the mythical gods that played such important roles in Homer's epic stories. I have also been intrigued by how many of the themes in Greek and Roman mythology are part of our world today. It seems that history repeats itself over and over again and some things remain the same. Even in our religions of today, the themes and stories are similar. The myths are filled with "saviors and sacrifices" and humans who referred to themselves as gods. Even Julius Cesear was made a "god" after he died and his son referred to himself as "the son of God." There are heroes, saviors, demons and devils, clever tricksters and monsters, the righteous and the enemies, sea gods who whip up the oceans (Posiden) and jealous maidens galore. Interesting how well the tellers of old knew human nature so well. All good material for Shakespeare's plays! I am finding this all quite fascinating and even though I studied some of this in school, it is really coming alive to me for the first time. I traveled some of the places talked about in these myths, i.e. Greece, Rome, Delphi, Egypt but never really understood (as I do now) what I was seeing. I sure would get a lot more out of those trips now! Anyway, I am having a fascinating summer reading about the gods of myth, and in doing so, understanding our own culture better.

GARAGE SALE

2010-06-22T15:56:00.000-07:00

Does anyone out there, other than me, think that having a Garage Sale is a worthwhile venture? I put this question out to my Facebook friends and, almost to a person, they said NO. Well, I would like to agree, and also disagree. I agree it is so much darn work that dollar for dollar, it is hardly worth it. I don't expect to make a lot of money so that, I guess, is the first thing in my favor. That I have cleaned out my basement, and gone through things I have not laid eyes on in years is a mixed blessing, at best. I could have just kept them in all of their tight, closed up boxes and continued to forget about them until the next move, or wait to have my children sort them all out, but I decided to do it myself with the help of my very willing (I have a gem) husband, and to my surprise, I have found some things that, in the past, I treasured. To find these "treasures" again brings some joy, but only if you have the time to enjoy them. The hard part is that, once discovered again, can I easily let them go?
My husband and I have taken our time with this enterprise which makes it not seem so daunting, but now, both of us are ready to have this abundance of household "taka taka" depart our garage for a new home. Both our cars are moaning that they have been left out in the rain too, too long. So this Friday and Saturday are the dates for many of our things to fly the coop and to be enjoyed by others. As I sat this morning deciding between $1.00 or $2.00 items, I had a bitter/sweet feeling about it all. Many of the things I was marking are a part of our history, and out they will go. I shed a slight tear, but not for long. It is one more layer that my husband and I are shedding as we continue on in life, finding more and more joy, not in things, but in each other, our families and our friends.

MEMORIAL DAY, 2010

2010-05-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

MEMORIAL DAY, 2010

When I think of Memorial Day, of course, I think of war, and the sadness war has brought to all man-kind since the beginning of time. I have often thought that we should, by now, be beyond war; that the evolution of man would have placed us just below the angels (as many believe) rather than just above the apes which seems to be the reality. Our ancestors of ape-land are extremely teritorial, protecting to the death, with war-like intensity, their "place" on earth, just as we do the same. I so want to live in a more perfect world, but I think, even though we continue to evolve (and we have made progress), we will not arrive at a place of shared tranquility for a very long, long time (certainly not in my lifetime!). And sadly, it may never happen before we destroy ourselves, each other and all living things. A sad thought indeed! In the meantime, soldiers of every place on earth must die protecting their spot, and we must go on, sadly, remembering our soldiers and their families for their heroic efforts in protecting our spot. As I sat on my porch this morning looking out at my lush, green yard, I thought of all the war-torn places around the world, and wrote this poem.

THOUGHTS IN MID-MAY

I sit quietly on my porch in early morn
the end of the month of May
And look out to the distant field
Where prairie grass is beginning to sway
With the morning breeze

And, I see wildflowers starting to grow
In colors not yet defined
But which will be varied and brilliant
In time

The chickadees, finches and meadow larks
Warble and sing their song
And just below my open window
The purple, fragrant lilacs grow
From their hedges, row upon row

Our birdfeeder is busy too this a.m.
Yellow finches hanging upside down
Eating their morning breakfast down
While robins hop around the yard
In need of fresh worms to pull

Colors of green fill up the trees
Their different shaped leaves
Fluttering and flapping
In the morning breeze

But then I pause
And my thought begin to wander
To war-torn areas around the globe
Where nothing,
Not even a leaf can grow

Where nothing grows among the rubble
But more and more
War-torn trouble

A place where flowers won't bloom
And birds won't sing
And no grasses will grow

And I think of all of those
Who would wish to take my place
To be here in my space
Where flowers and grasses grow
And yellow birds sing

2010-05-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

What is it about going to highschool with a class of 24 girls that makes you friends for life? I am guessing that without the distraction of boys in class with you, we had more time to knit true friendships and enjoy each other more fully. I also think that the small class of just 24 girls provided more opportunity to know and appreciate each other as individuals. That we wore uniforms and no jewelry (nuns would not allow this) contibuted to our not competing with each other except in field hocky, basketball and vollyball. We seem to have grown as a kind of family who cares about each other, and we are still a very close, caring group of women today. This past week, many of us were together in Cincinnati to celebrate a birthday of note for all of us, and we enjoyed dining together at the beautiful home of one of our classmates. We blew out the candles together on a lovely birthday cake and sang happy birthday to ourselves afterwards. We have all come a long way individually, but are still a close family of friends. I am so grateful for these wonderful women in my life.

My Mother

2010-05-07T15:33:00.000-07:00

Sunday is Mother's Day and I would like to honor my mother with this beautiful orchid I wish I could give to her, and with this poem that I wrote about her. I loved my mom very much, and admired how she kept "it" all together, even when the seas were rough; she never was "at sea," herself, rather she kept our ship afloat, and all of her seven children moving along with good manners, good morals and good times. Here's to you Mom.

MOTHER

I remember my mother

in the basement

In front of the washing machine

with loads of wash

Darks, whites, and in-betweens

For seven children

And one very meticulous husband

Who wanted everything neat and clean

I remember my Mother

behind the ironing board

Pressing Peter Pan blouses

for brown school uniforms

And sewing on lost buttons

My Mother could work miricles

with leftovers

and create a delicious mystery stew

I remember my Mother

behind the wheel of our old station-wagon

Seven kids packed in tight

day or night

Driving us to art museums, skating rinks,

horse-back riding and tennis lessons

We were a captive audience to her plan

To have our fingers

In every piece of pie

in life

And to live large and full

But mostly.......

I remeber my Mother

telling a story

And laughing heartily at her own joke

My Mother loved a party

and reasons to celebrate

She seemed always to be happy

She would often say,

"Life is what you make it

It is really up to you"

Mother is gone now

But her laughter lives in me

I hear her still

Along with the thumping rumble

Of the old station-wagon.

Springtime, 2010

2010-05-04T10:12:00.000-07:00

LET ME GO IN SPRINGTIME

Let me go in springtime

When I go

So that the long winter will not

Seem in vain

And I can hear again

The birds chirping one more time

Before I go

And I will want to see

The row of day lilies

That grow each spring

Along the hedge

And smell the lilacs below

My window pane

I will want to greet one more time

Hank and Henrietta, our doves

That come back each year

To nest in our Evergreen tree

And with my last breaths

I will, once again

Wish to enjoy the rabbits and their offspring

Hopping about and eating the new green shoots

From our garden

And see the ducks waddle by in pairs

Male chasing female

On their way to the lake nearby

I will want to hear the geese honk

Once again

Their message of delight

In flight overhead

As the robins jump about the yard

Finding worms in the wet spring earth

And if I am very lucky

A yellow chickadee will alight

Followed by the redbird

That finds our feeder every year

And the sun will warm my soul

Before I go

And I will be happy then.

Springtime birds

2010-04-14T07:27:00.000-07:00

Today I want to talk about birds, since there is quite a variety flying around my back yard, and meadow these days. I really love birds, plain and simple! Their beauty and sound just make me feel happy. I know there is a book out with all the sounds to go with the birds, and I would like to own it, but alas, too much for my budget, so I will just have to try and guess which bird is singing, and calling to other birds at any given moment. My favorites these days are the little yellow finches that alight onto our thistle bird feeder when the red winged blackbird gets out of the way. I love their lovely color, and the way they eat upside down on the feeder. The red cardinals are next on my "hit" list, but they are more rare along with the blue birds. Robins, of course, are everywhere and last year I had the joy of watching a robin right out my bathroom window, build its nest branch by branch, sit on the nest forever, it seemed, and then hear the peep, peep, peep of the newborns. I watched as Papa bird and Mama bird took turns flying from the nest to bring back food, and watched as the babies stretched up out of the nest to be fed, mouth to mouth from their parents. And then, sadly, one day they were all gone. I guess this is the way it should be, but darn, I wanted to watch those kids grow up! Isn't nature wonderful? So many of us don't take the time to watch it unfold right before our eyes, but when we do, what an interesting and lovely show it is! Of course I have written several poems about the birds I love and I will share two of them here.

The Chickadee
There is nothing happier for me
Than a chickadee
Alighting on my window pane
And singing his little song
So merrily.......
How much I delight in thee!
And when you fly away from here
There is naught for me to do
But wait til once again you come
To make of my day, a song.....

Red Bird
Every morning, the red bird comes
Stopping briefly
To perch on my backyard deck

I stop
And put down my coffee
Slowly and quietly
Not to disturb
Or cause the flight
Of this fleeting, crimson sight
Which so delights my senses

I feel a sacred moment then
His brilliance planted firmly in my soul
That will last and last
Throughout my day
As I recall this image of delight
Cemented clearly in my heart
Before my red feathered friend
Flies away.....

Thoughts on turning 70

2010-04-08T08:32:00.000-07:00

Ah, today I am thinking about numbers.....and all that numbers represent. Sums, dates, amounts, addresses, but very important to most of us: age. Ah but, it's just a number, isn't it? Well, yes, but then again, maybe no. Upon thinking and pondering my recent birthday milestone, I was quick to remind myself and others that, well, it's just a number but maybe it is more than that. It certainly represents the yin and the yang of my life; the before and the after; what has been, and what will be, for me, 70 years lived upon this earth, and an unknown number of years to come. It represents other milestones in my life too, like my high school years at Summit Country Day School; my first real love; my college years at Marquette University in freezing Milwaukee, Wisconsin; my two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Tanzania, East Africa (quite warm); meeting and dating my one true love, my husband of 40 years, and our marriage in July, 1969; the birth of our two daughters and all the joyful years they brought to our lives; our eight year "party" in Colorado and then our return to the Midwest; and our happy landing in Normal, Illinois amidst the flatland of lovely farms, and the joys of living in a small Midwest town. In and among the areas and locations of my life are all the wonderful people I have met and the lasting friends I have made. I am abundantly blessed in this area of my life along with my Cincinnati family of six brothers and sisters, cousins, nieces, nephews and now, two wonderful grandchildren. So, no....70 is not just a number. It is the representation of a life lived, so far so good. The morning I turned 70, I woke up and said to my husband, "Well, I made it; the rest is gravy." Or as they say in New Orleans, the rest is "lagniappe-a little extra." I feel abundantly blessed, healthy and am continuing to charge ahead. Who could ask for more?? I love what Falstaff says in Shakespeare's play, Henry IV, Part One,
" If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damned." I want to think of myself among that group.

Springtime At Last

2010-03-27T11:40:00.000-07:00

Oh, those special signs of spring!!! How I love them; let me count the ways. A friend of mine once told me that I get so much joy from nature that it must truly be part of my spirituality. I agree. Nothing is more wonderful to me than a walk in the woods or a stroll around our farm, listening to the noises of nature or watching a bird build its nest which a Robin did last spring right outside my bathroom window, where I could watch him create it, twig by twig, stick by stick and branch by branch. What an incredible process to witness. An aside to this; I just saw a cartoon in the New Yorker where the mother bird is saying to Papa Bird as he is placing another piece of straw on the nest, "No, not there; put it over here." Hmmmm, even female birds may have that sense of design and decorating. Oh course, we know they don't; but wait, do we really know that??? Anyway, spring has once again come to the meadow outside my kitchen window and it does put an extra energetic step into my life. In celebration, I would like to share a poem I wrote another year at this same time called, SPRING AT LAST

SPRING AT LAST

Four long winter months have passed
Fourteen frigid weeks
One hundred twenty days
And now,
Out my kitchen window
Too long absent from my eye
Spring has come at last
Showing its face
And taking its spring-time place
In my backyard

No longer need I linger
lazily on my couch
Wrapped in blankets
to silence the chill
Thinking of this season to come
And anticipating its spring-time thrill

Soon I will go outside and lie down
on the tufts of soft green grass
beneath the oaks and sycamores
And see their buds appearing
And look upon a bring blue sky

And beyond my sights
In far distant fields
Where there are still patches
of winter snow
Just now, beginning to go
Spring-time is coming to the meadow too

Wrens and robins begin to sing
Their new season song
And call along
To other waking creatures of the fields
And from tree to tree
I see
A robin, a dove, a chickadee
Alight in the warm brignt sun
Male chasing female
Displaying bright bulging breasts
Enticing the females to their nests
To begin a family
In this heightened season of the senses
A time not to be alone

The rabbits too, shake their tails
And hale a new day dawning
Another season in which to romp
And stomp their rabbit feet

And now, I myself will go
Wherever nature leads my senses
Whirling winds
Animal movements
Woods running wild
Sunsets setting
Wherever cosmic energy leads me

And before it is over
I will wish that I could paint
And put upon a canvas
The colors and the forms
The emotions and the joys
That this season brings

For when melancholy moments
Come again in December
I will want to remember
All that this season has awakened in me
And the memory will serve me well.

2010-03-19T15:46:00.000-07:00

Ah, another St. Paddy's Day come and gone. I have so many wonderful memories of this day during my growing up years. We were the Conlan family who had a direct link to the Irish Isle. My father's great grandparents came from Ireland, and like so many immigrants from that country, made their way slowly into the melting pot of America. Being Margretta Marie O'Conlan, (the clan dropped the O' after arriving in America as no Irishman wanted to "stand out." )I had a lot of heritage to celebrate, along with my six brothers and sisters, my closest sister being named Maureen. The Irish had their "troubles" here in America like all immigrants, and worked hard in menial tasks to make a living and establish themselves. How often I fail to think about the sacrifices and courage it took to do what they did, representing the basis for the sacrifices each generation had to make to get me to where I am today. And my father's great grandfather had courage indeed. He was in serious danger for teaching catholic doctrine along the hedgerows in Ireland where children came to learn in a very perilous environment. The British would not allow it, and so night after night, Dad's great grandfather would sneak out from his cottage and meet with those wanting to hear the Catholic word of God. For sure, he was afraid, but he did it anyway. One day, word came to him that he had been found out, and in grave danger. He fled, and hid in a ship going to America promising to bring his family over when he could, which he eventually did. When I was a little girl, wearing the green carnation my dad bought for his daughters each St. Paddy's Day, and the green ribbons I wore in my hair, I had no idea how deep went the roots and emotions of those who touched the lives of those brave immigrants starting over in a new land. Today, I do more than listen to Irish music and eat corn beef and cabbage. Every St. Paddy's Day I now take out the book written about my Conlan Irish heritage, look at all the pictures and faces of those who went before me, and say Thank You.

The Sea

2010-03-09T07:52:00.000-08:00

As I sit looking out at the ocean today, thinking about my upcoming 70th birthday, I can't help but think of the poem, Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson. In the last several verses, Ulysses turns to his seafaring crew and says something like this, " We are growing old men, but I think we have one more good sail in us." And then to quote, "I will sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the western stars until I die." In ending the poem, he says that it is his intention, "to strive, to seek, to find and not to yield." The author is suggesting, I think, that we go on, no matter our age, to continue to fight the good fight until the end. I like this advice and will continue on as long as my body and spirit are able and willing. And as I see a few shells on the beach, I am also reminded of Anne Morrow Lindbergh who wrote, Gifts from the Sea where she, in each individual chapter, meditates on youth and age, love and marriage, peace, solitude and contentment. She uses specific shells as metaphors of life beginning with the channeled whelk as a confining, duty-bound place that she is free from for a short time while at the beach. A respite from the every day obligations in the city where she lives. The moonshell represents solitude for her, a place and time we all crave in our very noisy Then comes the double-sunrise that is two shells joined together as one, but each maintaining its own identity and uniqueness.(marriage?) The oyster bed shell is a metaphor for moving on in life, getting out of our comfort zones to stretch ourselves and perhaps share our unique gifts with the world. In all of this, AML is searching for a simpler life, inner integrity and fuller relationships.
The ocean presents its own feelings of melancholy and solitude for me too, and like Ted Kennedy who always looked to the sea for comfort after each of his life tragedies, I too find a wonder and peacefulness in the sea.

2010-02-22T10:50:00.000-08:00

While sketching these penguins, I was thinking about how resilient penguins are. It is the very nature of penguins to "stay the course," even in the midst of great danger and hardship. They instinctively "muster on" in the frozen tundra powering through great physical challenges. Just living on the frozen tundra would be enough of a challenge for me, but they also journey 30-40 miles during mating season, far away from their food source on their little legs. They must wobble precariously on their small wobbly feet or glide on their stomachs paddling with their tiny feet. They slip and slide undeterred to reach the area where they will court, mate (just once), nest, incubate and protect their young. Often, for over 100 days in temperatures as low as -80*F, and without food, the male and female take turns returning to the sea (40 miles away) to obtain food to bring back for their young chick. They make this long, dangerous trip over and over again during this period. While waiting, the other penguins huddle together in a big circle (literally, the circle of life) to stay warm. They take turns with the warmest inside spots. The penguins never waver in this pursuit, no matter how difficult the task. So many lessons I draw from the penguins way of life; too apparent to list here, but something to reflect on.

Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T14:08:00.000-08:00

This is what my house looked like on Valentine's Day this year. I was surrounded by those I love the most; my wonderful husband (this rose being one of a dozen he gave me), my two fabulous daughters, my awesome son-in-law and Michelle's significant other, Scott DeWeese, and my two fun, and funny grandchildren. Life is good this year, and what could be better than being surrounded by those you love on Valentine's Day? It was not always the case in my growing up years, and I remember many a lonely Valentine's Day when I did not think that anyone loved me. I can think all the way back to grade school when the magnetic pull between boy and girl begins, and I was in love with so many of the cute boys in my class. Back then, we decorated shoe boxes with red crape paper, ribbons, white doilies and anything else that would suggest love. Usually the rule was that everyone in the class got a valentine from everyone else; no one was to be left out, and I was just foolish enough to actually think that if I happened to get one of those three cent valentines that said "Will you be mine?" it really meant something from that cute boy across the isle. In fact, his mom probably wrote out his valentines for him, and he was clueless as to who got which one. In many ways, Valentine's Day is much like New Year's Eve; it is hard to be without a "love" for either of these occasions, but I had plenty of these. I remember many times being in tears. I guess that this is one reason that today I am so grateful when I look around and see how lovingly rich my life is. And to all the singles out there, I want to say, keep the fires burning and the hope alive. True love will come along when you least expect it. It did for me!

Snowy Day to Myself

2010-02-08T12:46:00.000-08:00

SNOW, SNOW AND MORE SNOW!!! Yesterday was a beautiful, sunny day so I took my camera and headed out into nature to take some pictures. It was such a lovely day, even though it was cold and snow-filled, but the wind wasn't blowing so it felt warmer than it was. With the sun coming through my car window, it felt delightful as I listened to classical music and drove through the countryside. I was by myself with nothing to do but enjoy the music and nature all around me. I drove for six hours, and went 150 miles, stopping only to have lunch at one of my favorite spots; a wine bistro that serves delicious lunches in a quaint and picturesque dining room. I was out in farm country where I saw cows huddled together against the cold, and beautiful horses running or resting in the snowy pastures; a scene for a Currier & Ives Christmas card. I passed through little towns with nothing more than a gas station and a mechanic shop, and wondered about the lives of all the people who lived there. I loved the quiet and being by myself; to appreciate the beauty all around me; to ponder some of the wonders of the world and my life, and to truly appreciate the simple beauty of life. I recommend a day like this for everyone now and then. It cleared my head and mind, and brought me back home appreciating things I had not even thought about when I started out. Simply lovely.

Fresh Tomatoes

2010-02-03T10:29:00.000-08:00

Why is it that today I am thinking of fresh tomatoes that we grow in our garden every year as seen in this picture I took last summer. Every year, my husband, who grew up on a farm, and I "put up" our tomatoes, and when we are finished, we have about 30 quarts of fresh grown tomato sauce to last us through the winter. I am a city girl at heart, but some of the farm traditions that my husband grew up with have seeped into my soul, and this is one of them. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is better in the middle of winter than eating fresh grown tomatoes in spaghetti, chili, or whatever other tomato dish we cook. We are very covetous of these jars of tomatoes and only give a few to family and friends as they are precious indeed. I guess I am thinking about fresh tomatoes today because I am longing for the kind of weather that grows them. The first of February has brought us more of the same overcast cold and gray skies that we had in January. My longing for sunshine and warmer weather runs deep in me, I am sure, as this kind of weather, without question, affects my mood which today is being pulled more into negative energy than positive. Isn't that a nice way to say that I am slightly depressed today? Weather clearly does affect me and no matter how much I try to say to myself, it is only a state of mind, I still feel lousy. Ah, mind over emotions...now that is a subject for another day. For today, I am just happy to be writing on my BLOG, and keeping my head above water.

Lifetime Quotes

2010-01-27T09:09:00.000-08:00

Tucked away on the shelf in my office is my book of quotes. This little leather-bound book contains the many quotes that I have been saving over the years, and ones that speak to me now and then. I consider them my road map in life and I often turn to them just to remind myself of things I may have forgotten. Today I want to share some of my favorite quotes with you. My favorite has always been a Persian Proverb that says, "Trust in God, but tie your camel." Here are some others:

"If you have no enemies, you have never done anything." (observation by my father.)

"Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."
(Quote sent to me by my mother in 1978)

"I am too much of a sceptic to deny the possibility of anything." T.H.Huxley (1828-1895)

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." Seneca (4B.C.-A.D.65)

"A really busy person never knows how much he weighs." Edger W. Howe (1853-1937)

"Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better, even of their blunders." Friedrich Nietzche ( 1844-1900)

"There is only one thing about which I am certain, and this is that there is very little about which one can be certain." W. Somerset Maugham (1874-1965)

"This above all; to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." William Shakespeare. (1564-1616)

"The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude." Gabriel Garcia Marquez
(1928-?)

"We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us, for it is a point of view about things." Marcel Proust (1871-1922)

"In comedy, the best actor plays the part of the droll, while some second rogue is made the hero or fine gentleman. So, in this farce of life, wise men pass their time in mirth, while fools are only serious." Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)

"Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression." Dodie Smith (1896-?) Who is Dodie Smith???

"The afternoon of human life must have a significance of its own and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage of life's morning." Carl Jung

2010-01-22T06:42:00.000-08:00

WINTER STILLNESS

Out my kitchen window, all is quiet

In this midwinter darkness before dawn

Not a bird or rabbit about

Although footprints in the snow

Show me that they are nesting nearby

Hibernating like bears on this winter day

Bundled together against the cold.

And even the wind is not stirring the trees

As all is frozen and still

The sun is not yet visable

But slight light below the gray sky

Gives promise for the day

The brown shrubs and stubs

Stick up from the ground

Where in spring

Green leaves and flowers abound

But not today.....

One color that is still around

Is the prairie grass, which has not

Shed its color of ashen brown

Along with the fir and birch trees

Which give some delight

Their needles and trunks green and white

The chickadees that play in my bushes

Have gone

Their urge to flee, feels just like mine

But on my kitchen window sill

Are the paperwhites I planted in early December

Blooming for the first time today

So a ray of sunshine comes into my heart

And now, with joy, I begin my winter day.

Martin Luther King Day

2010-01-18T06:39:00.000-08:00

Today is Martin Luther King Day and I would like to remember him and all the others in history who courageously took the path of non-violence against adversity. I have often heard the human race referred to as "just below the angels," but, often I think that we are really "just above the apes." But we should not despair; we are evolving, and some day, if we survive, we will come to a more peaceful existence. Once a wrote a poem to this effect and I will share it on this special day.

YOU WANTED A MORE PERFECT WORLD

You wanted a more perfect world
You didn't understand
That we are not yet capable
As man
To live a world without hate
A world without fear
A world without war
That rather than being
A little less than angels
We are just above the apes
Like our brothers and sisters of the jungle
Who scratch and bite and hate
To protect their clan, their tribe
Their territory
With the most vicious of intents

You wanted a more perfect world
But you didn't understand
That man has not yet evolved
Above a primal state
To a place
Where love and peace and
Inclusion is the measure of the day

And we have many decades left to travel
To this enlighted state
But, there is reason for hope
As Jane Goodall who lived among our mates
Has said,
We are all a part of the upward movement
In our actions of today
So even though,
You wanted, you expected better
From your fellow man
Don't despair
What you and I do today will
Actualize
Realize
A future world of peace

2010-01-16T08:08:00.000-08:00

Recently I was honored with the inclusion of my essay in my High School's (Summit Country Day) book, THIS I BELIEVE, which came out this Christmas season. The book includes essays from students, teachers, alumni, administrators, and parents connected to the school, and includes written testimony to a particular thought or thing one believes in, thus, the title, THIS I BELIEVE. In my essay I said that I believe in taking reasonable risks in life, and getting out of our comfort zones to have a more fulfilling and meaningful life. I talked about going to Africa to serve in the Peace Corps back in the 60ies, and though, I (and everyone else) knew very little about Africa at the time, I overcame my fear, and went. It was one of the most enriching experiences of my life. I have now read many more of the essays in this book of which there are about 50. I wanted to list some of the things that people believe in and wrote about. If you were to write an essay on this subject, what would it say you believed in?

I BELIEVE IN:
*trusting yourself
*hands
*opportunities
*listening
*inner strength
*creating a place of peace and serenity
*that we are all the same underneath
*being grounded
*second chances
*power of humor
*democracy and freedom
*waiting
*finding your own happiness
*parents
*our stories
*goodness of people
*running
*my garden
*we know nothing
*family
*to whom much is given, much is expected
*responsibility
*each of us has a life purpose beyond what we do for a living
*people are shaped by their past
*payback
*everyday miracles
* personal philanthropy
*the joy of sound
*God's plan
*the power of a greeting card, note or letter
*teachers
*we are all called to serve
*sports teaches life lessons
*success transfers
*character
*not having regrets
*importance of staying connected
*being yourself
*education
*love
*Santa Claus (Read, "Yes Virginia; There is a Santa Claus"
*laughter
*

2010-01-12T10:17:00.000-08:00

A great big Happy New Year to all. It always seems a little strange to me to think of our lives in blocks of years. If you think about it, January 1st is just the day after December 31st, but we do place significance on these milestones, I guess, as a way to see where we have been, and to enjoy, even for a brief time, the hope that the new year will bring good things our way. So far, I am waiting; the new year brought news that my daughter lost her job due to the economy and this past Sunday, we were attending a funeral. I think I will back up my new year to February 1st and see if things start out better from there. In any event, I continue to experience many blessings in my life, so I am not complaining. One of the highlights so far for me this new year is seeing the movie, Invictus and if you have not seen it, I highly recommend it! It is about a chapter in the life of Nelson Mandala after his 27 year imprisonment in South Africa when he first became the new South African president after Apartheid. It is also the story of his wisdom in supporting the all white (except one) national rugby team, revered by the whites and hated by the blacks in the first steps toward creating a multi-racial country. In support of this team, Mandala manages to bring together whites and blacks in the common interest of supporting and cheering for this team all the way to the final championship. This film is an inspiration, as is Nelson Mandala at age 91, a prophet in our midst, I think. Invictus is the name of the poem that Nelson Mandala read to himself every day during his imprisonment and from which he took great courage. He kept his spirit alive with the words from this poem, the last two lines which say, "I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul." Like Victor Frankel, in the concentration camps, Nelson Mandala did not let his captors, capture his soul. This movie will inspire you, guaranteed.

Winter

2009-12-29T12:18:00.001-08:00

Ah winter! The first snow is always the most welcome and the prettiest, don't you think? After Christmas with our children and family, we came back to five inches, accumulated while we were gone. Lovely! It made me think of two poems; one written by a friend of mine, Sara Bush, now deceased and one by me which speaks to going forward into the new year, always with hope, but also with some amount of uncertainty. My poem is called Footprints in the Snow

How peaceful to walk in the crusty snow
Deep in the woods at night
'White on white
My footprints go, making a path
To show where I have been

Suddenly
The moon peeks out
Between still, sleeping trees
And finds a spot
To shine its muted light
And to illuminate my uncertain steps

Everything is silent and quiet
No noise
Except for the lone owl
Hooting and hooting above me
To break the silence
And to let me know that I am not alone

My steps are fresh and tentative
In this woods so new to me
So much before me is unknown
My only measure
The footprints behind
To show where I have been.

The poem by my friend, Sara Bush is called Winter Garden

"Yes, we can have roses in December,"
someone has said (I can't remember who),
"Because God gave us memories,"
And it is true.
Kaleidoscopic pictures turn:
Behind closed eyelids, sunsets burn
of many summers gone
And tawny woods of autumns sped
still swirl the leaves inside my head,
Still make my eyes and nostrils sting
with perfume of burnt offerings.
The vernal fires of greening trees
ingnite the songs of chickadees,
And, lo! The robins and the cardinals come!
No longer, nature stricken dumb
in crystal caves of ice and snow
Indeed, the winter roses grow
In hearts like mine that are contrary
the monarchs fly in January!
And all bright loves and friendships shine
That once were ever yours and mine.

Wishing all my readers peace, illumination, quiet, companionship, adventure, footprints, and good memories to sustain you in 2010.

2009-12-19T10:10:00.000-08:00

Read my first entry below "My love of reading etc." which goes with this picture. I seem not to be able at times to get it all connected. Darn!

2009-12-19T09:17:00.000-08:00

My love of reading has always included young people's stories and for years I have been building a collection of children's literature and picture books. I have always loved how beautifully some of these books are illustrated, and this enters into the decision to purchase a book or not. Along with these treasures, I have a separate Christmas collection of children's books which I love, and enjoy reading over and over at the holiday season. I have three favorites. One is The Gift of the Magi by O'Henry which is one of the nicest love stories of all time, where a poor, newly married couple sell what is most precious to them to buy a Christmas present for the other. Another favorite I read each year is: Is There A Santa Claus; the answer to eight year old Virginia who writes a letter to the New York Sun newspaper asking them to tell her if there really is a Santa Claus after her Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Part of the answer The Sun gives is:
"Did you ever see Fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world." (Some people call this faith.)
My favorite Christmas book, however, is the one that my youngest daughter cherished the most growing up, and continues to read every Christmas. It is simply called The Christmas Story by Jay Frankston and is the story of a Jewish family who goes to the Post Office each Christmas; picks out the most "needy" wishes from letters to Santa; buys presents for these families, and then, on Christmas day; Dad dressed as Santa, delivers gifts to them with a joyful Ho-Ho-Ho. This was their answer to being part of the very Christian celebration all around them. I have always been glad that this particular story struck such a profound cord with my daughter. Early on, she appreciated that Christmas is about the joy of giving as much as receiving. Tis the season of giving and sharing with family, friends and yes, even strangers. God bless us all.

2009-12-12T06:49:00.000-08:00

2009-12-12T06:42:00.000-08:00

Christmas decorations are slowly getting put up this year after my husband and I have finally gotten over our nasty colds, or whatever seems to be going around the country these days. This is our little tree that sits in the corner of our dining room and cheers us up with its lovely white lights. The other picture (go to last entry, 2009 (64) to view) is an azalea plant I have been "nurturing" for several months, and I cannot believe how tall it has gotten. It is beginning to bloom, just in time for the Christmas season. I have been pouring over my Christmas cards, many that I made this year, and some that I have recycled. I cannot believe how much it is to send a card these days; 44 cents, but I cannot give up the tradition of connecting with the people who mean so much to me all year round, many who do not live near me, so yes, I will spend the 44 cents to let them know how much I love them, and how much they mean to my husband and myself. Cards, notes, and letter-writing is such a lost art, but it continues to be very meaningful to me, so I will resist as long as I can, just sending a one-liner via the Internet for special occasions. These have no meaning to me, as my guess is that they were giving about 30 seconds thought, and then on to the next busy activity. No wonder we live in a society of isolation. And, on this note, last Christmas I received in one of our Christmas cards, this lovely sentiment which I added to my card this year, and I think it demonstrates what I am trying to say here. As I wrote each card this year, I spent time thinking about that person, and what they mean to me. Here is the poem that is going into my cards this year.

We have a list of friends we know, all written in a file
We take it out at Christmas time and study it awhile
And this is when we realize those name are all a part
Not of the list they're written on, but names within our heart.

For each name stands for a place that we have been
And the joy of friendship is one we want to touch again
And it may appear fantastic for us to make this claim
But we really feel we are composed of each remembered name

You may not even be aware of any special link
But knowing you has shaped our lives much more than you can think
For once we came to love you, the years could not erase
The memory of our friendship that still is in its place

So never think our Christmas cards are just a mere routine
Of names upon a Christmas list....forgotten in between
For when we send a Christmas card that is addressed to you
It means you are upon the list of friends we're indebted to...

In part we are a total of the many friends we've met
And you are truly one of those we never will forget
If we've been friends forever, or just a day or two
In some way wonderful, you've been a part of shaping what we do.

Every year when Christmas comes, we realize anew
The biggest gift that life can give is having friends like you
We wish the Christmas spirit to be your forevermore
And the bells of Christmas morning bless you with a mighty roar.

GO TO 2009 (64) MOST RECENT ENTRY TO VIEW AZALEA PLANT

2009-12-01T12:46:00.001-08:00

Well another Thanksgiving is behind us, and I for one, am thankful for that even though we had a wonderful time with our family. But now, I hope not to have to eat turkey (never a favorite) again for another year. And now, on to the Christmas season, if not yet begun in your house, certainly has begun in all the stores around the country. And this year is especially compelling; to get out there and get those bargains! This year, if you are paying full price for ANYTHING, it is too much. Sad for the economy, but equally sad for the true meaning of Christmas which I guess has been lost for some time now to the Almighty dollar. There are "pockets" of "holdouts" but this seems to be rare in this ever consumer driven culture we live in. Ah, bah humbug, I say as I sit wondering if I can muster the energy one more year to get out there and be a shopper. Last year, I made a list for myself to help me keep sane as I went from place to place looking for that perfect gift. It helped me to keep some of these things in mind.

1. Stay calm; don't run anyone over either on the road or in the stores.
2. Stay out of malls; they are hazardous to your health, and your wallet.
3. If you hear the same Christmas song on the radio or in a store that you have already heard, change the station or leave the store. On the other hand, if you find yourself singing along, knowing all the words, enjoy the moment.
4. Remember to have some fun, and good cheer every day, perhaps in the form of a good glass of wine.
5. Light candles somewhere in the house every day to remind yourself of the true meaning of Christmas...(the light of the world and all that.)
6. Don't feel guilty without a fresh cut tree to decorate. In our house, this caused the greatest amount of anxt with, which tree to choose; getting it into the stand (strait); putting lights on after hours of unraveling them; getting under the tree every few days to water, and finally dragging it out after Christmas leaving a trail of pine needles to clean up. Go for the store bought one that comes with lights already on it.
7. Don't give too much to the "grands," and spoil them; their parents are already doing that.
8. Smile at people as you go about your errands; remember this is a time of "good cheer," and you just might help someone make it one more day.
9. Give away far more than you get by way of helping those who have less than you do. This is the greatest gift to yourself you will ever give.
10. Take time to remember family Christmases gone by, remembering the people who make them so wonderful and who may now be gone.

THANKSGIVING

2009-11-23T04:30:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving time once again, and I am grateful for so many things in my life! For my art journal, I was thinking of things other than the "usual" list, and came up with things like:
sunshine
friends
good books
beauty and art
music
trees
flowers
cinnamon rolls
wisdom
peace
All these things contribute to, and enrich my life in so many wonderful ways; the cinnamon rolls contributing to making my world "larger." Years ago, a very good friend of mine wrote this poem that I continue to love, and read each Thanksgiving. I would like to share it. She wrote one every Thanksgiving, and this was her poem for 1998. She is now gone, but her poems and spirit live on in me.

THANKSGIVING, 1998
I fold my hands
I bow my head
Over my plate,
my daily bread
That God from whom
each blessing flows
Put there beneath my appreciative nose
And then I close my roving eyes
And thank Him for each day's
routine or rare surprise
I offer up a grateful prayer
For all His nurture, loving care
For family, and sharing friends
For helping me meet the
stretched-apart "ends."
For Church
and fellow pilgrims on the way
With whom to speak and think and pray
I thank Him for the shadows
and the colors
Of the tapestry of living;
Sight and sound, kaleidoscopic
reasons for Thanksgiving
But most of all, I thank Him
all other things apart
For the gift throughout my
lengthening life
Of a year 'round grateful heart.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

2009-11-16T08:17:00.000-08:00

I am enjoying creating an Art Joural, and this is one of my entries. I will post additonal ones soon. This is a very fun activity, and I am including some of my poetry, and some of my favorite sayings....Stay tuned. Also, I am doing book reviews for the Internet Art Joural at Escapeintolife.com I have just submitted my latest one; check it out under Writers, and then scroll down to my picture.

ART JOURNAL

2009-11-15T04:28:00.000-08:00

Click on 2009 (60) in colume on left to see others

I am very excited about my new project: ART JOURNALING. A friend suggested that I try this as I love both writing and art. Here are some of my first attempts as I fill up my first Art Journal. I am using a lot of my poems, and finding art work to illustrate them. I also include some famous poems, and pithy thoughts. I am having lots of fun with it! Here are a few samples.

2009-11-09T12:25:00.000-08:00

It has been too long since my last post; that is for sure. But, have you ever had the universe collide in your life, in such a way, that you did not see it coming; did not deserve it, and basically were blindsided and thrown under the bus without cause. Well, I believe this happens sometimes in life, and it happened to me several weeks ago. And, without going into details, I have had to spend an exasperating amount of time trying to unravel a difficult situation. So, my energy has been elsewhere, but hopefully this will be resolved this week, and I can, once again, go on with my life with the demonstrated integrity I have always had. Sometimes, other people in life, who know absolutly nothing about you, try to define you, and you find yourself having to defend yourself to people who do not have the honesty, integrity or professionalism that you have. And suddenly you are in a royal battle with "the know-nothings" and you don't even know how you got there, just that perhaps someone needed a scapegoat or someone to blame...and you were in their sights. Anyway, safice it to say that I am still sleeping at night, can hold my head high, and have had the courage to speak up and speak out about something that was and is clearly wrong. I know that anyone reading this may be curious for details, but I shall not be able to share them here. What I can share is a poem that my sister, Maureen Conlan wrote years ago about Courage which applied then and applies today. Thank you Maureen.

WOMAN OF COURAGE 4-5-92

You who have courage for others,
be courageous for your own life.
You who birth babies and bury parents,
have courage to embrace your own joy.
Look inside---
You are already courageous
Think of the times you were crushed by sadness
thought you could not live
And then rose to comfort others.
You who listen to your friends' most awful
secrets and love them no matter what
Find courage to love the dark cornors
of your own heart.
Think of the times you felt unloved, shamed,
humiliated; soul and body battered
And yet, got up the next morning,
Put one foot in front of the other
and marched into a new day.
I sing for your courage
It is nothing this poem can confer
You have it already; a legacy from
every moment of your life
And the lives of those before you
that has led to this one
Think of the courage it has taken to live
with your lonliness
Consider small acts of courage
when you were in physical pain and you went to work
or cooked dinner for your family.
Times you were so afraid you were sick to your stomach
and still you did what had to be done.
The simple courage
to live as a woman in this world.
Think of the heroic times....daring to battle
an angry god
What courage it has taken to unravel the early lies,
to speak the first secrets
trap them in a shoebox in a closet
And when they escape, as they do once in awhile
have courage to face them again and again and again.

I celebrate your courage.
Use it to rescue the radiance
at the center of your heart,
Waiting so patiently for you to shine forth.

2009-10-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite web sites is: The Writers Almanac at newsletter@americanpublicmedia.org You can listen to Garrison Keillor read a poem each day, and also hear other pieces of literary news like what great literary writer and philosopher was the only person to decline the Nobel Prize in literature. (Check out the site to find the answer if interested!) Today, October 22, 2009, the author of the featured poem is Louis Jenkins who titles his poem, "The Speaker." I liked it so well that I would like to share it here on my BLOG.

The Speaker

The speaker points out that we don't really have much of a grasp of things, not only the big things, the important questions, but the small everyday things. How many steps up to your front door? What kind of tree grows in your backyard? What is the name of your district representative? What is your wife's shoe size? Can you tell me the color of your sweetheart's eyes? Do you remember where you parked the car? The evidence is overwhelming. Most of us never truly experience life. "We drift through life in a daydream, missing the true richness and joy life had to offer." When the speaker has finished we gather around to sing a few inspirational songs. You and I stand at the back of the group and hum along since we have forgotten most of the words.

2009-10-19T07:44:00.000-07:00

Every year at this time, I cannot help but think of my best friend who is now gone. Over Halloween several years ago, I spent a week with Sara in the hospital as she went through a bone-morrow transplant. Her favorite holiday of the year was Halloween; this is one of the things I loved about her...she loved dressing up, being goofy, and laughing...often at herself. She made me laugh all the time. I love a phrase from John Updike that I lifted from one of his novels which says, "When an exhilarating personality dies, it is the live performance we remember, the unduplicated presence, the shimmer and sparkle, and poignance, perceived from however far back a seat in the audience." This is how I think about Sara, and am grateful that I had a front row seat in her life. I also like the quote by Jeanne Moreau on the death of his best friend, "It would be unbearable if memory didn't exist...I hear your laughter. I see you writing in your office, the smoke from your cigarette forcing you to blink. At will, I can spend hours with you." For me it is hearing Sara playing the piano, or the flute, or laughing. When we were at the hospital together, I wrote a poem about that time, and want to remember it here.

SCARY HALLOWEEN

Her stem cell transplant
Is on Halloween
An event she never expected
On her favorite day of the year

She dresses up anyway
As she does every year
In orange and black
With a mask
Not nearly as scary as the masks
Doctors are wearing
In the hospital

She laughs and jokes
With the nurses
To protect the frightened
Small child inside
And knits a lovely scarf
As her own harvested stem cells
Drip slowly into her veins
To give new life

She refuses to be sick
Until the end of the knitting row
Is finished
And then,
"I have to throw up,
But not until I finish this row," she says

And then she begins
The wrenching, heart-breaking sounds
Of heaving her insides up
And when she is spent
Goes on knitting to get the scarf
Done by Christmas
A scarf for her daughter

And then...
Life goes on
One minute at a time
Whether outside in sunshine
Or inside the gray walls
Of this city hospital
Sitting among
A community of patients
With sad, solemn faces
In the chemo room
Hot and stuffy
Life saving masks over their faces
And the human determination to live
The joy of Halloween
Lost on them

Here, hope is to be well by Thanksgiving
In order to give thanks
And to feel good enough for
Pumpkin Pie
And really....just not to die
Too soon, too early
Too much before their time

This is the second time
For my friend to do this
The last big effort
For life-saving energy
To pour through her veins
And take hold.

She knows what is ahead of her
And the thought makes her weak
With the memory
Of medicines that make you sick
Multi-colored ones
Like Halloween treats
And the energy that will
Drain from her body
Before the new cells begin to grow

This living hell
Even though tempory
Does not feel like temporty
It feels like a lifetime
Of misery
And it is hard to see
"the finished line."

But, she will go on
With the will to live
Second by second
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
Day by day
And week by week
Until it is done

And then
There will be new Halloweens
To celebrate
And to, once again
Dress up in costume
Not ever again
As scary as this Halloween.

Sara had several Halloweens to celebrate before her death, and I am grateful for that.

2009-10-12T12:35:00.000-07:00

Have you ever spent the afternoon in a cemetery? This past Sunday afternoon, I did, and though it was unseasonable cold requiring hats, scarves and gloves, Mike and I took a journey into some of our richest historical past via the Evergreen Cemetery Discovery Walk. Every year for the last twenty-five years, experienced actors and actresses have dressed up in period costumes and throughout the cemetery, acted out snippets of living history. The program is called, "Voices of the Past" and this year featured Abraham Lincoln in honor of his 200th birthday. Rich, poor, famous and infamous are all buried here, and many grave sites held people who were once very closed to Abraham Lincoln.
Abraham Lincoln got started in his law practice here in Bloomington, Illinois at the age of about 21 and traveled the 8th Judicial circuit which took about two months to complete. During this time, he met some of his most lasting friends; many buried here in the Evergreen Cemetery. Featured in this Discovery Walk was David Davis, lawyer & friend responsible for getting Lincoln elected to the presidency, and his wife Sara, another political friend, Jesse Fell, two civil war soldiers (one white and one black), and wife of John Loomis, Abraham Lincoln's life-long friend. Twelve characters in all rounded out the Walk and included Abraham Lincoln himself telling about some of his friends buried here. Over and over again, Lincoln was depicted as a kind and gentle man and that reminded me of my own father who was a lawyer and spent much of his life trying to better the lives of the less fortunate. They would have liked each other. The Discovery Walk through the cemetery was an eye-opener for me. I had no idea I was living amidst such profound history.

2009-10-01T07:05:00.000-07:00

TREES: BY JOYCE KILMER

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon her bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

I woke up this morning thinking about trees, and the poem by Joyce Kilmer came to mind. It is a poem that I learned in my High School English class many years ago, but apparently never forgot. The author Joyce Kilmer has always been synonymous with trees for me, I guess. And this is the time that I notice trees, more than any other time of the year. Today they are blowing about with signs of the coming winter and cold weather. Soon their leaves will change to all those awesome colors (why does that happen again?), and then their leaves will fall to the ground. There is a favorite book of mine by Leo Buscaglia called "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf...a story of Life for All Ages" and is an inspiring allegory illustrating the balance between life and death. Freddie the Leaf is one of the last leaves to fall from the tree he is on, and when he does, to quote, "Freddie landed on a clump of snow. It somehow felt soft and even warm. In this new position he was more comfortable than he had ever been. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not know that Spring would follow Winter and that the snow would melt into water. He did not know that what appeared to be his useless dried self would join with the water and serve to make the tree stronger. Most of all, he did not know that there, asleep in the tree and the ground, were already plans for new leaves in the Spring." Having just had an intimate experience with death as I sat with my sister-in-law while she lay dying, this thought is comforting; that life goes on in some way, and that, even in death, we are part of life continuing. If you have never read this book, I recommend it; it is also good for children when trying to explain death to them.

I have some favorite trees; one being the Aspen of Colorado. When we lived there, we never missed a season to drive up into the mountains and see the spectacular array of Aspen trees awash in yellow color, their leaves fluttering like an orchestra playing their beautiful music all in harmony. Today, I am most happy with our Birch tree that lives in our back yard with her three white trunks coming gracefully up from the ground. She is a beauty, and in the fall, her leaves remind me much of the Aspens. And when she begins to shed her leaves in that dance of nature, I am always reminded of Freddie, and watch for the last leaf to fall to take its place in the mysterious cycle of life. Ah, trees...a precious gift of nature that we must continue to plant and preserve for our world to survive. I have been watching Ken Burn's National Parks documentary on Public T.V. and have a new appreciation for all the people who strove hard to preserve some of our forests and trees for the common good by way of creating the national parks. Thanks to all the men and women who did this for all of us. May we continue to preserve and keep our park lands for all future generations.

The End

2009-09-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

"It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come." Shakespeare: Julius Caesar

The process of dying is indeed a mystery. This past weekend I had the honor of sitting with my sister-in-law while she was actively dying. (nurse's term) I say honor because I believe it is an honor to be with someone during the very final chapter of his/her life....a life that is entirely unique to this world; a one-of-a-kind, like all of us. And just as birth is a profound, miraculous event filled with awe and mystery, so too is death, I think. I sat with my sister-in-law in the hospital as one by one, her body mechanisms began to fail, and though she was comfortable and breathing on her own, I knew that the end of her life was near. I was not afraid for her, and I talked to her often to let her know I was there as others of her family did also, and she squeezed my hand to tell me she knew, although she could not communicate any other way. It was comforting for me to see her peaceful and serene, and then finally, take her last living breath. In talking to the nurses that witness this often, each person's process is different as each person's body decides when life is over. It may be hours, and in my sister-in-laws case, it was several days. But the result is the same for all....the end of life for a unique person who contributed her own talents and gifts to the world; for my sister-in-law, her gift and legacy of love. She was truly one of the most loving persons I have ever known, and for that, I am grateful to have been a part of her life, and honored that I could be with her at the end of her life.

2009-09-18T15:23:00.000-07:00

2009-09-18T15:19:00.000-07:00

2009-09-18T15:13:00.000-07:00

2009-09-18T14:44:00.000-07:00

Why would I travel five hours just to have lunch with ten of my High School girlfriends, which I did this past Wednesday?

Not often in life do we get the opportunity to REALLY bond with other women; it usually happens when we spend time together, have shared experiences, and things in common; experience a few "aha's" together, supporte each other; laugh and cry together, and overall....achieve some remarkable passages of life together.

I have been blessed in life with wonderful girlfriends who did all of these things with me at one time or another. But, there is one group of girlfriends who did all of these things as a group, and these are the twenty-four girls I went to Summit Country Day High School with (Cincinnati)....at that time, an all girl's Catholic school. And when I walked into my classmate, Carol Manley's house last Wednesday for lunch, I felt like I had come home. No one knows me like these girls know me, and no matter what girlfriends I've had along the way, these are the girls who know me best.

These are the girls I slumber-partied with; got into H.S. trouble with; studied for latin exams with; talked about first boyfriends with; drove around with after getting my driver's license; got my class ring with; belonged to a High School sorority with; laughed, cried & agonized with, and finally graduated from High School with. More importantly, these are the girls I shared my deepest values with; girls who, like me, were shaped and formed by the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur and who were given an extrodinary education under the same roof. This was the setting that bonded us, and though we are an ecclectic group of women with multiple interests and talents, we are also one family together. I am so glad to be back in their midst. Five hours seemed short in comparison to the time I was able to spend with them.

I have lost two very special girlfriends in my life and the loss runs deep in me. I am reminded to hold on to what is important, rare and precious in my life. One of these is the Summit Class of 1958.

On the Rightness of Doing Nothing

2009-09-12T15:51:00.000-07:00

"If you can spend a perfectly useless afternoon in a perfectly useless manner, you have learned to live." Lin Yutang (1895-1976)
Lin Yutang's book, The Importance of Living, is one of my favorite books. Yutang is a Chinese philosopher, and a light-hearted one who said, "To me personally, the only function of philosophy is to teach us to take life more lightly and gaily than the average business man does." Now who couldn't like this guy? You might want to check him out; he has a lot of good stuff on living and enjoying your life which brings me to the point of this entry, and that is, "Ways to Enjoy Doing Nothing Without FEELING GUILTY.
Like most of us, I grew up with that Christian, Puritan ethic which said that one needed to be busy most waking hours with meaningful tasks. It is still hard for me to take time for myself, and in fact, "do nothing" of any significance. Sit on my deck, listen to the birds sing, look up at the cloud formations, dream, rest, and generally be a "slug." Not in my makeup, but in being so busy with worthwhile activities, I think I am missing a part of life for myself that is equally important, and deserved. So I have been WORKING (poor choice of words) on this concept, and have been gathering ideas and suggestions to put this into my life. And I am getting better at it, and enjoying those times more and more without Gretta-Grrrrrr standing over my shoulder reminding me that I am wasting time. I just know that I am learning to live, Yutang style.
Some ideas:
*Play a game just for fun without keeping score or competing
*Think of Aristotle who praised the contemplative life
*Carry a book of poetry in your pocket to pull out and read now and then
*Take a drawing pad out into nature and sketch what you see; you will look more closely; start
with flowers that are easy to draw. I am not an artist but I can attest to this.
*Go to a happy or joyful place and just wander around. Sometimes this can be in the middle
of a busy city. I love wandering around in Chicago.
*Try playing an instrument; get a lap-harp that anyone can play.
*Decide that one day a week will be a do-nothing day.
*Take a nap during the day. Naps are highly underrated and are healthy for you.
* Take a drive in the country. I do this a lot, and love it.
*Sit and watch the sun go down, or the sun come up.
*Listen, really listen to classical music without doing anything else. I started listening to the
evening symphony on the radio, not as background music, and I love it.
* Just be. Eek!

2009-09-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

September brings the Canadian Geese flying overhead, honking their way to places warmer. Like the geese, I wish that I could just up and fly south with them. I love to write poetry, and several years ago, I composed a short poem about not being able to do just that.

The Geese are gathering now
Honking and hollering
As they fly bye
In their V shaped form
'Summer is ending,' they scream

And, I want to scream too!

'Cold weather is coming
And we must be gone
To a warmer place'

"Can I fly along,"
I cry
"Yes, you can,
If you can fly"

"Drats!" I answer
"Why them, and why not I?"

Geese, actually, have a lot to teach us about encouragement, leadership, loyalty and life. As geese are flying, they form a V (as I am sure everyone knows), and each bird flaps its wings, creating an uplift for the bird immediatly following. By flying in a V formation, the whole flock adds at least 71% to its flying range than if each bird flew on its own. When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to "go it alone." and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front. When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back in formation and another goose flies point. Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. Finally, when a goose gets sick or is wounded, and falls out of formation, two other geese fall out with that goose, and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies, and only then do they fly away. Anyone else see any life lessons here?

2009-09-06T09:11:00.000-07:00

2009-09-06T09:07:00.000-07:00

Folk Art Dolls

2009-09-02T06:25:00.000-07:00

Some of you have asked about how to make these dolls. Here are some basics. Start with a plastic bottle of any size. Secure wooden head in top of bottle, usually by wrapping serain wrap around the neck. These wooden heads can be purchased at any hobby store. But, before securing head in bottle, decorate face with whatever....hair, eyes, lips etc. Then begin the design of the base of the doll....dress, skirt etc. Use shinny paper, brown sac paper, coffee filters to layer skirt etc. Then decorate away. As far as gluing item, as my sister says, use anything until it sticks. I use double sided tape and double sided sticky dots, again bought in any hobby store. Someone also suggested trying a glue gun. Could work. Enjoy and let your creativity shine!

Some New Dolls

2009-08-30T17:29:00.000-07:00

2009-08-30T17:16:00.000-07:00

2009-08-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

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2009-08-30T16:29:00.000-07:00

2009-08-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

GO TO "SEARCH BLOG" ON BLUE BAR AND SCROLL DOWN FOR RECENT POSTINGS AFTER VIEWING DOLLS.

Folk Dolls made by my sister and me.

2009-08-22T07:08:00.001-07:00

2009-08-22T07:01:00.001-07:00

2009-08-22T07:00:00.001-07:00

2009-08-22T06:59:00.001-07:00

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2009-08-22T06:54:00.000-07:00

2009-08-22T06:49:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, my artistic sister Maureen came to visit and we spent most of our time making these Folk Art dolls which I want to share with you. I am hosting a doll-making party next Friday, and we will again create these fun and whimsical art pieces. Anyone can do it! You begin with a bottle, any bottle really, for the base, and then begin to add and create. We use mostly recycled stuff; many of the dresses are from coffee filters, or paper bags, and then we add trinkets and things you can find all over your house. The more the better; glitzy is best. Anyway, have a go at it; it is so much fun and gets the creative side of your brain working overtime.

2009-08-13T15:48:00.000-07:00