The face of change

Autumn has come to the flat lands. And just when you start to think it's all about the colors, look around for the textures. This past weekend I was hiking with a friend through a prairie field. In the distance were beautiful trees dressed in their wonderful colors of orange, red and yellow. As we stepped to the edge of the trail to look at the wild grass, these seed pods caught my eye. Their dead, gray orbs stood in stark contrast against the warm grasses. Autumn felt more dimensional with this discovery. It's not just the leaves that are changing with the seasons. Everything is changing.

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Here it is, your moment of zen.

Testing - testing - testing

I am attempting to load a small video clip to this blog entry. It is an entry that means nothing - it's only a test.

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Here it is, your moment of zen.

MY MOM - AGENT OF CHANGE

     I suppose most folks think of October and autumn as the end of things. The growing season is finished in the garden. Summer is over.... real over! And the kids have gone back to school... the party's over! They don't call it "fall" for nothing. It's easy to get a little depressed this time of year. Even with the autumn
sunlight being so vibrant, depression can sneak up on a person like some ghoul out of a horror house.  
     Yet, for some reason, I've been thinking about change lately. My husband and I were watching "This Week" on ABC this past Sunday morning. They were hosting a special with a title of "Does America Fear Muslims?"  (or something like that). It was a very interesting question and answer session with about 100 people taking part - either as experts  on Islam - either pro or con or as audience members.
     Somehow, I got to thinking about my mother. I grew up in a religious section of the country... namely the south.  And what I am about to say may sound old fashioned or slanted or something but sometimes I think that what some parts of the Muslim world are experiencing can be related in someway to what my mom and the women of the 50's were experiencing before things started to change.
     When I was a little girl, my mom stayed at home with us kids. Then she decided that she wanted to have a job. She wanted her own money as my dad did not see the importance of having the things that she did, (like an indoor toilet).  And I can remember the two of them "discussing" her having a job. His argument was that he was the breadwinner, she didn't need a job. Her argument was that the baby was just a couple of years from going to school and opportunity was knocking. They went round and round....  and mama got a job.
Well, dad settled in on the idea of his wife working.  He wasn't totally ridiculed by his peers, as he'd feared, about his uppity, working wife. Truth be known, his peer's wives were getting jobs too.
     Then came pant suits in the 60's! That fashion trend rolled into town and my mom was thoroughly ready to hop aboard! She loved pant suits! And she wanted to wear pant suits. This caused a BIG argument between my mom and dad. My dad was the only one wearing the pants in that relationship! At least that was his stand on the subject!  I am not sure how my mom won that argument but she did wear pant suits from then on. And not only did she look marvelous, but nobody would have mistaken her for a man.
     So how does this relate to the Muslim world? Well, I remember hearing or reading that the  leader of the September 11 tragedy left instructions that no women were ever to step foot or come near his memorial or attend any memorial services for him. He left all kind of anti women instructions. So how much of the anti-west thinking is a result of the friction that is resulting from the Muslim women craving change?
I don't think that the majority of Muslims are anti women but the hard core ones are running scared. Is this their pant suit moment?

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Here it is, your moment of zen.

Nic Marks: The Happy Planet Index | Video on TED.com

Nic Marks: The Happy Planet Index Video on TED.com

And now it's autumn.

Hello world. Welcome to your autumn experience. If you are living in an area that witnesses the four seasons, expect falling leaves. I spent the morning going through some old papers. I tossed most of them out. They were out of date. I spent a little time on some of my favorite computer sites and then decided that, perhaps, if I hurry, I can still do something significant with this day. It is 2 pm already and I've been to Facebook, Yahoo and Ebay about a dozen times. Such a waste. I don't mean that those sites are a waste, I mean, that rat, running to the feeding stall for another cup of  pressed corn pellets, action.
I did venture over to Ted.com and listened to a speech on the Happiness Planet. Imagine the concept of a world based on a nation's happiness level instead of their accrued income. It's a strange concept. The very idea of making a world where happiness really matters. And having this happy world also designed around the idea of taking less from the planet. Did you know that Costa Rica is the happiest country? Our American culture is in the throes of the dark ages of violent movies, computer games, literature, personal relationships and throwing up walls to solve problems.
Well, Rome was not built in a day but it was built. We could rethink things in America. We're innovators. I'll try to attach the speech that I listened to today....

The speech should be above this post.

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Here it is, your moment of zen.

A few thoughts on worry

       It is windy here today. I look out the window and notice the trees in my yard, the cornfield across the road and the clouds in the sky responding to the urging winds.  Everything is being blown about, out of control in unison. The morning started out with me edging close to a panic attack. My heart was racing, my breath - stuck in my throat, and my muscles ready to sprint. I had a dental appointment.
       I knew that this would be an expensive visit. I was scheduled to receive 2 crowns and I'm not even royalty.  Now as I waited to enter the dental zone, I started to notice my feelings. I even asked myself why was I feeling so stressed.
      The truth is, I've delayed this visit / procedure / decision since April. Back then the dentist told me that I would need 2 molars crowned. She looked in my mouth so matter-of-factly, told me I'd need crowning and then added "you might even need root canals." Which made me wonder if a person can faint sitting down. I even wondered about her bedside manner...."hey lady, there's a human heart in this body!"  I'm thinking a person should be taken into a chapel for news like that.... at least a little soft music and a box of tissue.
       I left the office pondering how to clue my frugal husband in on this news. And to tell you the truth, I didn't even mention this to him until this morning. I pictured him laying flat out on the floor with me wielding a defibrillator and shouting "clear!"  Instead, he just mentioned something about a health savings account and handed me a check book.
      Today I learned a big lesson - again. First off, there is no figuring my spouse, and try to stop worrying. Mostly, try to stop worrying. You see, I have been carrying those dentist's words around with me since April. I have pondered those words at all moments of the day. I have laid awake at night thinking about those crowns.  Why? I'm not sure.  This is the way worry wields it's tentacles into our souls.
      I come from a long line of worriers. My mother had this fear that someone would break in on her and my Dad and do them great harm. She had that "Husband murdered - wife raped then murdered" headline playing in her head for a large part of her life. She was normally an upbeat person but lived that mental horror.
      As the panic started building this morning and I found myself able to name it, I began an inner dialogue...."calm down, breathe, think of something fun and positive, everything is going to be ok, you want to keep your teeth." This helped.
   I went to the dentist. I only needed the crowns - no root canals. Everyone was very patient with me,  the sun was shining, the dentist with the charming bedside manner was not on duty, the dentist with actual charm was on duty,  my husband never insisted on looking in my mouth, the numbness finally wore off, I took needed action and can move on.
     They say that worry is a wasted emotion. Worry is fear in disguise. Maybe I have learned my lesson but if I haven't.... I'm not going to worry about it!

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Here it is, your moment of Zen....

N.C. Recap

By now, many of you will have lost interest in my last blog about the gravel road and the yard sale to raise funds for gravel for the road. And who will be Barge God - lost from your mind. But there are those who have asked for an update. And there have been so many attempts at an update only to have the updates tossed away like balled up paper hitting the trash can rim. The mood has evaded me. Today, I begin again. At the end of July, I loaded up my car with my yard sale items and my personal stuff and headed south. North Carolina was in my sites. I was looking forward to seeing my family and having some fun in the process.

I got such a kick out of helping my sisters with various summer projects. I sat with Grace as she recuperated from her knee surgery. I tagged along with Marlene as she shopped for new bedding, hung some more state plates in her state plate collection, and watched as she admired the Bear Mountain Lodge painting that I made for her. I helped Rebecca as she, Marlene, Jack and I cut corn off the cob for freezing. And I tried to encourage my baby sister Rachel as she was dealing with a personal set back of her own. Of course, I enjoyed swimming in the pool at my brother Doug's. And had dinner at my brother Elihu's house.  It was also good to see my sister JoAnne and her family. I love all my sibs so much!

I have to admit though, that above all I really appreciate the way my family turned out to help with our gravel fund raiser.

   It was hot! I believe it was close to 100 degrees on the Sunday afternoon we gathered to sell our goods. We had so many wonderful and unique things to choose from. My sister Rebecca had women's cowgirl shirts, magazines, grab bags, and an assortment of household items. My sister Marlene has some quilts, toys for the kids, and a pound cake that almost started a bidding war between my nephew Zane and I. I pulled out my stuff only to realize that I had forgotten the Barge God hard hat at home! Along with all the other items that I had highlighted in my previous post. But I did bring a 2 x 3 foot poster of Elvis that was a crowd pleaser. It too almost caused a bidding war. My nephew Jody brought 2 pints of blueberry jam that his wife had made...I scooped those up before anyone could even see he'd taken them out to sell! My niece, Neva brought 2 super cool cowboy hats which made the day for my nephew Zeb's 2 children. And the best, most dear thing to me was that people bought stuff and donated money very generously to help get gravel for the road. We ended up raising $205.00.  I am so blessed to have such a fabulous family!

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      Here it is, your moment of Zen!

Who will be Barge God?

I came across this hard hat at the Lincoln Building. When you think of barges, you probably think of waterways. You might think of large crates or containers being moved along the river or down by the sea. So how did a hard hat worn by a barge worker end up in a warehouse in Anderson, Indiana? It's a great hard hat. There is a little knob in the back that allows one to tighten the innerworkings around the head and you don't even know you're wearing a hard hat. Also, check out those reflectors and the American flag sticker (one on each side of the hat). You need this hat and you know it!

How about a seashell picture frame? Finally a lovely frame to showcase that special beach picture. It can be yours for the low price of one dollar. It will be on display at the family picnic / flea market on Sunday, July 25th....be there (with money) or be square!

Novels.....lovely, bodice ripping novels!

What kind of world would it be without Pokemon cards? Here's a whole pile of them, just waiting to come to your home and play....get 'em while they're hot!

SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY!

     My baby sister had knee replacement surgery today. The last few weeks leading up to today have been worrisome for her. She is not a neat freak by nature and neither am I.  She was worried that folks would show up at her house for a visit and find everything in disarray. We were talking about that last night and I laid my new theory of stuff versus beauty on her.

     Basically if you own stuff, you have certain responsibilities to that stuff....a place for it to be.... cleaning and repairing the stuff....a purpose for having the stuff is also nice. And if you are doing none of these listed activities, you end up with stuff guilt.

     Since the brain can only work on one thing at a time, you're using up gray matter on the stuff that you could be using on more interesting activities.

    So I broke the idea of a family picnic / flea market on her. I am coming to my little, childhood home on July 23. I will be bringing a car load of items to sell at a family only flea market on Sunday, July 25th. I know that might not be the best of days for merchandising but Harrison and Brittany are going to be there too. It would have been a great Saturday event but they won't get there until late Saturday and the following Saturday, they leave for Brittany's family reunion in Tennessee. They really want to see the family, so thus the choice. And to make things clearer, I want to sell all I have and put whatever funds I gain into a road repair fund for the cemetery road.  I would also like to encourage all my family members (and you know who you are) to bring stuff to sell as well (of course with the idea of donating the funds to the cemetery road fix up.) It doesn't have to be a lot....a shoe box of goods, a bushel basket of items, a trunk load of treasures, or a pickup load of lovelies.

    And more importantly, please bring a dish of food to pass around for a big family picnic. We'll start gathering at 12:30 pm, with the dinner being served between 1 and 1:30. Meantime, we'll set out our goods and let folks look them over. At 2:15 or so, we'll let the dealing commence.

   If you have any folding tables, please bring them. And since this is a developing story, there may be other things coming down the pike. Call me if you have any questions or any ideas about how to make this better.

Also over the next few days, I will be highlighting things on this blog that I plan to bring to sell. Any Elvis fans out there? Also, if there is something you're looking for let me know. Thanks everyone, look forward to seeing you on the mountain top!

P.S. You don't have to bring anything to sell. Just bring a dish of food to pass around and some money to buy the wonderful treasures that I know you will find.

The Golden Room

Several years ago, during a bleak and bleary, gray winter, I came across this post card. It was just laying in wait for me inside an obscure box or book. And when my vision landed on it...I sort of gasped. It is a post card that I bought in New Port, Rhode Island. Philip and I had travelled there for a vacation which included a cruise to Newfoundland. I try to get a post card from where ever I travel. I'd read an article once about a woman who buys a post card on her travels and then writes a little anecdote on the back of the card about what she did while she was visiting the particular place the card represented. Good idea, huh?  Well, so far I just get the cards. And I can remember what happened there.. in Newport.... it rained buckets of rain! So this whole story is taking an ironic turn.  Anyway, I love this card because the room pictured is so airy and light. Full of golden light. It is a room in the Rosemont. One of those Newport, turn of the century, rich person's mansions. And I can tell you what it over looks. A garden, I'm sure, but beyond the garden, the big, wide ocean.

Ultimately, it is all about beauty. One does not have to be rich to have beauty. Beauty comes from a simple place. It comes from clean lines and open circulation. Beauty is not complex.

In search of beauty

      The other day, in Anderson, I walked into my office off the cabinet display room and had an epiphany. All around me were boxes of stuff. In the corner of the office is a little, metal desk with a black, granite top, covered with bowls of small stuff, jars of small stuff, and a stack of papers. On my work bench are more jars of stuff with several canisters of pens, pencils and paint brushes. Sure, one would expect to see things like that in an artist's work space. Yet how much is too much? The work table is 6 foot long and 2 foot wide. The size of my work area on this table about 1 foot by 18 inches.The main office desk is covered with lots of stuff as well, mostly cords, credit card machine, printer, and of course a nut shaped canister with a squirrel on the top...doesn't everyone have one? So as I am looking at this stuff, it came to me that all this stuff is calling my name:
"Over here, I need dusted!"
"When are you going to get us out of this box and hang us up?"
"Are you ever going to list me on Ebay so that I can be put to use?"
"The trash pickup is Wednesday, make sure I'm in it!"
"What were you thinking at that yard sale?"
     It occurred to me that I am carrying around so much anxiety and guilt about all this stuff that it is now infringing on my joy. I crave beauty. There is a post card in my office .....over on the metal desk with the granite top... that paints a picture of my real quest. It shows a room full of golden light and just a small amount of furniture. Every time I see that post card I want to step into that picture and just sit in the light. I bet the room smells of furniture polish and fresh flowers. The view out the window is probably of a river or a garden.
    And in my enlightenment I decided that I will take action. And over the next few weeks or months, I want to make this blog about letting go in search of beauty.

Today in Anderson

 

I  hadn't intended to write on my blog today as I have a ton of stuff to do but something happened and I just had to write. I was sitting in line at the McDonalds on 14th street. It was a lovely spring morning. I was admiring the beautiful, weeping cherry growing by the order station when I noticed this guy strolling down the street. He was walking at an easy pace....no hurry, no problem. And for some reason, I thought he looked like Santa Clause. He surely must have just stepped out of a snow mound. So then it occured to me that I need a picture of this guy. And that is when the line at the McDonalds dropped dead. Someone up ahead was ordering a killer whale combo. When I finally got through and had my sack of grub, I headed down the street, planning my assualt on "Santa." A person has to think about where they are going in Anderson because there are so many one way streets. So guessing by his pace and direction, I for once in my life came out exactly at a point where I could get my camera, turn it on, watch the traffic situation and snap a picture. So I present to you "Cool Santa on Jackson Street!"

The Nichol House Experience - Part 1

Hello, blog fans! I am glad to announce that I have reached a monumental moment in the Nichol Street Experience. As you know, I have been working on remodelling a house to be used as a rental property at the request of my husband. Today, I begin on the final week of work on the Nichol house. Mark has painted all the walls and installed a floor in the room I called the rough room. Now we have to touch up the paint, scrub and wax the floors, paint the stairway to the upstairs and add on the detail stuff like electric plate covers. The people who are to begin renting the house on March 1, dropped off some light fixtures for installation. They have asked that something be done to cover the pipes in the downstairs bathroom. And everything needs cleaning.

      Some of you may wonder why I have posted such an austere photo of myself. I took this myself, sometime early in the process. Later as I looked at it, I couldn't help but see my father's face. He was a carpenter. He built much of our house....slowly...over years.  He was always adding something on. I thought of him often as I slugged away at this project. I thought of my brothers too. Especially the two brothers who are carpenters. I remember going to the new North Cove Elementary School in the Woodlawn community  in Marion, North Carolina with my brother Doug. He showed me the trim work he did on the school gym. A facility that will be around for years. I was amazed at how the wood looked as if it was one form. Tight to perfection. And my brother Elihu with his wonderful wood shop just a few feet from his back door. Neat as a pin.

    My sister Marlene told me not to cry too much at the end of the week. It struck me as funny because I have been feeling kind of maudlin about the house. It was built in 1884. The people who built the house were craftsmen. I can see it in the house. I stayed late the other day to paint the stairway to the upstairs. I mixed brown and black paint and discovered that I had gray/purple steps...so I will be repainting the steps brown. As I got to the bottom of the steps, the steps make a curve around. As I painted the curve around, I noticed a piece of concave moulding trim underneath the step. I've watched enough home repair / wood working shows to know that this curved trim would've had to have been steamed or soaked in water to limber up the wood. I loved discovering this hidden detail because detail use to matter. The house was quiet. And in this instant, I felt connected to those spirits from 100 years ago.

    Stay tuned... It's gonna be a busy week.

Painting Has Begun

    On Monday, Mark and I started painting the Nichol house - interior. He  was using the paint sprayer and I spent my time washing down the wood work. I have to admit that I have been dreading this portion of the remodel project. I can't explain why I feel this way. I guess that I see it as another mountain. And it feels like there have been many mountains to climb in this project.

    We spent 2 or 3 days taping windows, fixtures and floors to get ready. At some point, with blue masking tape and newsprint on the windows,  the house began to look like the inside of a cathedral complete with stained glass . Philip found us a fine sprayer. It churns the paint out at an amazing rate. In 2 days the entire inside of the house was painted. Sure, now we have to touch up the straggling points but it is amazing to see such progress in a short time.  By Friday, we hope to have all the painting and touch up finished. Next job, the floors. We have a deadline as renters are moving in on March 1st. "Damn the torpedos! Full speed ahead!"

  

Winter Musings

Progress is continuing on the Nichol house. Many of you may not be able to believe that it has been a year of trudging work but I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. As you can see from the picture, a new front door has been added to the house and that is the excellent work of  Dr. Mark. I call him that as he may not want his name used on the internet. Mark is a guy that Philip hired to help us finish up with the house. And the guy is a God send. Everytime I turn around he has fixed something else. And done it with a great - no problem attitude.

It's snowing again in Indiana. It has been the "deep freeze winter." I call it the deep freeze because most of the time in winter, we'll get a couple of  35 - 40 degree days. Not this year - so far. It's been difficult at times - like the other morning when I opened my car door and it popped when I pulled on the handle and then wouldn't close and then I tried the door lock and the door closed so I crawled in on the passenger side because I was afraid that if I opened the door, I would never get it to close again.
     We had a pipe freeze up in the Lincoln building at the end of a really tiring day and I thought I would just lose it fortunately my son, Barnaby was working in Anderson and worked without complaint to save the day.
   But Phil and I have started trying to walk at least 30 minutes each day and it has made all the difference. Something about turning off the tv, the computer, the business, etc. and bundling up to go out there into the world of nature, does something to a person. It invigorates. To be out in this God given world, with all it's sounds of wind, snow falling, dogs barking in the distance, birds singing out from their hidden places, the water trickling in the creek through Rash Ditch, calls to something inside a person. One day we saw a red fox running across the northern most pasture, along the creek. It was a sight to behold as it's flame orange body made it's way through the snow! We've seen squirrels fighting/mating/playing in the trees. A sort of high wire, trapeze, clown act. One day, I saw about 6 or 8 of our black cows running/dancing in a field full of snow as more snow poured down. They were throwing their feet up in a beautiful, bovine conga line. It is undescribable just how that looked!  And the experience of just walking along with my best buddy in the whole world is gravy on top!

January Memories

 

     Hello again. This weekend marks the end of January 2010. The month started off with a cold spell and snow storm...typical for winter. I remember a weather lady getting close to histerical with the thought of this big storm coming in. Not only was she almost hiperventilating but she was starting to scare me. I hit the mute button but then became intrigued with the radar scan of the storm. By the middle of the day, it turned into a butterfly and moved on.

     One night during the cold spell, I heard a sound that at first I thought was coming from our front porch. Then it became apparent that the sound was coming from the basement. It was the middle of the night. I got up and crept through the house to the basement door. Slowly I opened the door and peaked down the steps. I noticed pots and pans lying on the floor. Things had been turned over on shelves. But the thing that freaked me out was a wine rack, hanging from the basement rafters, that was swinging about as if a wild party was hiding in the shadows. I quickly closed the door and LOCKED IT! It was like a scene from a horror movie. The next morning I told Philip all about what had happened since he slept through it. He set a live catch trap in the basement to appease me. And I'll never forget how the next morning when I asked him if he had checked the trap, he headed for the basement door and said "I'll see if I caught your monster." And just as he finished the sentence, walking down the basement steps,  he said "It's a possum!"

   A group of us went to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky during January to celebrate my son, Barnaby's 30th birthday. I think that I am still pondering that experience. Imagine walking into a hole in the ground and discovering areas that are larger that your living room. Areas that are more like large theathers. And there are small areas and areas that you have to watch your head and lots of darkness. And speaking of darkness, as we, the tour, made our way through the cave, the lights were turned off behind us and it was like the darkness was chasing us out or at least following us. It was just strange.

One of the big reasons that I have not written in some time is that I have been working like a deranged lunatic on the Nichol Street house. And the best news of January is that Philip hired extra help for me. His name is Mark and man can that guy work. He has put in cabinets, hung an entry door, caulked every crack in the house, closed up the fireplace, fixed lots of stuff. And the thing I like is that I don't have to keep checking to make sure he is doing stuff. He's doing more stuff than me. So this is just a little shout out to good help!