Breathe

What a tense day.  It seems like decades, rather than less than a week, since I was walking on the beach every morning and evening.

I spent most of the day running errands, working in the garden, and hanging out online, trying to distract myself while I worried about my child with mono, 600 miles away.  He finally called tonight and he sounds terrible; when the doctor called later, she said he's actually a bit better.  But she admitted that she has seldom seen a kid this sick, and that she is feeling discouraged about him staying on and going back to work in a week or so. 

His throat is so sore that he's barely able to eat which, of course, makes him feel even more run down.  He did at least sleep last night -- the pain meds must be doing some good, regardless of his insistence that they aren't.

I feel so badly for him.  He really needed this summer away from the stresses of college, and it looks like he will spend much of it at home, jobless and bored.

If only I could walk back down the beach tomorrow morning.

Going Backward

Millwheel at Camp

So I thought I had two kids settled in North Carolina and one to get ready to leave for France at the end of the week.  It has only taken about seven months to co-ordinate all the comings and goings of this summer. 

Why did I bother?????

A call from the camp doctor last night: it seems that the son down there probably has mono.  We had left him with a sore throat and orders to go to the health center, thinking that he might have picked up strep when he was there the week before.  Now it seems that strep would have been an easy way out.  His first test was negative, but the more sensitive one comes back today.

Luckily, he is not in charge of a cabin full of little boys this week.  He was supposed to be working on the farm, helping kids milk cows and play with goats and harvest corn -- all things he can do if he perks up in the next couple of days.  Or not.  The camp staff is amazingly able to take things in stride, and they are willing to let him lie around for awhile and then start working, or come home to sleep it off and then go back to work.  So after I drop his brother at the Cincinnati airport on Friday, I may be heading south again.  Or not.

Pause while I take call from pediatrician here... .

OK, so he says NC son is likely to feel much better in a week and should stay where he is, and France son is unlikely to have mono but if he does there's not a thing we can do about it and it won't show up for 6 weeks anyway so he should get on the plane. 

The level of stress in my life was already sort of, shall we say, high.  Let's watch it skyrocket.

I need a walk.

Walked: 3 miles.

Walked in June: 99.5 miles!

Walked since beginning journal: 275.7 miles

Private Property

No More

I found my way to the marsh quite by accident several years ago.  Out for an early morning walk, I turned off the highway onto a dirt road which twisted through a forest of palmetto and oak and emerged on the banks of the river.

Woodpeckers and warblers called from the trees, deer occasionally crossed the dusty road, and from the edge of the water I could scope an eagle's nest on the other side, a mile away.  One morning an eagle took off from a dead branch practically over my head.

I knew it couldn't last.  Plats had been marked by surveyors' red flags and, although several years went by before any development began, it was inevitable that it would.  I began to dread what I would find each year.

First, a fishing pier into the marsh.  That was a plus for, as you walk its length, you feel that you are floating over the water.  One evening several years ago I stood at the end of the pier as pelicans sailed across an enormous full moon hanging low in the sky.  A couple of years later, a platoon of skimmers raced atop the morning glint of water.

http://data2.itc.nps.gov/nature/photos/thumbnails/thumb_Skimmer%20skimming.jpg

Next, the housing.  Too close to the water that attracted the owners in the first place.  So much for the proximity of eagles.

Finally a gate -- this year, an impassable one.  Oh, you can still drive in to look at real estate -- and to find another firmly locked gate baracading the marsh pier.

What on earth is it that people are so afraid of?  Why all these gated communities in the south?  Maybe they exist elsewhere as well, but they are not a feature of my part of the world and I think that most people I know would find them reprehensible. 

I'm not a development-type person -- I prefer to live either in a city or inner-ring suburb with walking neighborhoods, or way out in the country -- but I would have considered living in this one just for the morning walks to the marsh.  No more. The property, although vanished as the space I knew for birds and deer, isn't too badly despoiled, but the appearance of the gates, blocking entry to the streets, woods and, finally, the marsh, offends me.  They exude fear and exclusivity rather than community.

I asked my kids what they thought it was that compelled people to make fortresses of streets in quiet and safe developments.

"People like you, Mom!"

Walked: 5.5 miles

On the Marsh

One of my favorite places in the world is the Matanzas River marsh in St. Augustine. 

Not too long after our arrival, I discovered a kayak rental place a few miles down the road from where we were staying.  It was early in the morning and I went back to our condo, hoping to rouse some company for my adventure, but no one would budge.  So within an hour I was out on the water by myself, enjoying daybreak from the vanatage point of the birds.

And such birds!  I stopped at a tiny island in the middle of the river, where a pair of willets hovered and cried frantically overhead.  Whether it was a clutch of eggs or tiny young, their treasure was invisible to me.  I didn't spend much time there, since the birds were clearly in distress.

http://www.nps.gov/calo/graphics/03110wil.jpg

The islands were covered in oystershells and, sure enough, on another tiny island I encountered a family of oystercatchers, two parents and two almost-grown chicks.  Oystercatchers are striking black-and-white birds with long orange bills; they are unmistakable and fun to watch.  They weren't too happy about my arrival either.

 http://northeast.fws.gov/migratorybirds/events.htm

 

I crossed the wide river and spent some time poking around the water trails of the marsh.  Great egrets, snowy egrets, little blue and great blue herons stalked the waters and sailed over the reeds.  Osprey circled high above me, and at one point I observed a tri-colored heron ( a Louisiana heron, for those of us who prefer the older, more romantic names). 

I can never decide whether I prefer the ocean side or the river side of the intracoastal.  I guess I prefer them equally.  The peacefulness of being the lone person on the expanse of a wide river under a wider sky is an experience I could relish every morning of my life.

Walked: 5 miles.

Hazy Lazy Days at Camp

Camp Horse Pasture in the Early Evening

With three teenagers, there isn't a direct route to any place or any thing. 

We started our trip with a detour through western North Carolina to pick up the son who had made the treacherous bus journey there the week before.  He had gone off for the required five days of camp counselor orientation and then, thanks to a lot of juggling on our part and the camp's, was to join us for a week in Florida before actually beginning his job.  (Because we have four different school schedules going in our house -- two different colleges, one child in high school, and one mom teaching in a religious high school that bows to the Jewish but not the secular calendar, last week was literally the only one between last January 1 and next December 25 that we could legitimately call a joint family vacation week .)

We ended the trip with a second North Carolina detour, to return said child and his younger sister to the camp where she, too, will be working, but as a staff-in-training (no orientation required).

And why don't I mind all this?  The truth is, I love it!  My children work at this camp, and went to this camp, because I went there the summers that I turned 10 and 11.  It was a different world then, in which campers typically went off for sessions of four or eight weeks, weeks which I embraced with every fiber of my being.

This particular camp is utterly noncompetitive and nurturing, designed around the needs of younger children to play outdoors, soak up nature, and swim and paddle and sing and dance.  I felt strong and independent and resourceful there.  In reality, I was a little girl with a shattered family and the klutziest limbs on the planet, but at camp I was also a girl who could camp along a wild stream, canoe across a lake, and make other people laugh with my dramatic rendition of Pinocchio's father.

So I don't mind going back at all, no matter how tedious the drive.  I can hardly believe that 40 years later, a place like this still shelters children for a few days or weeks each summer.

Catching Up

So...we went on vacation and we came back.  More on that later.  For the moment, I'm just going to update my walking log.  I kept a careful list while we were gone but -- surprise, surprise -- it's vanished, so I want to reconstruct it before I completely forget:

Today: Walked: 4 miles

Yesterday: Saturday, June 26: Walked: 3 miles in Brevard NC.

Walked in past week: 27 miles.  Kayaked: 6 miles.

Friday, June 25: Walked: 3 miles on the beach.

Thursday, June 24: Walked: 5 miles on the beach.

Wednesday, June 23: Walked: 5 miles on the beach.

Tuesday, June 22: Walked: 3 miles on the beach.  Kayaked: 3 miles.

Monday, June 21: Walked: 5 miles on the beach.

Sunday, June 20: Walked: 3.5 miles in Florida.  Kayaked: 3 miles.

Saturday, June 19: Walked: 2.5 miles on South Carolina back roads.

Walked previous week: 24 miles.

Friday, June 18: Walked: 3 miles on southern Ohio back roads.

LOST: THREE POUNDS while eating whatever I wanted!

 

 

You Can't Take It With You -- Week-end Assignment #10

 Grave Marker

What a GREAT topic!  I have been checking all day, hoping that John would post it early enough for me to respond before our 6:00p.m. departure.  And now here's a fabulous topic to which I can't possibly do justice in the time left.  Maybe I'll amplify it when we get back.  But in the meantime...

I'd divide my first million among  Chatfield College, a small institution in southwest Ohio which does a brilliant job of serving a population of students who find it difficult to pursue higher education, and some of the other institutions, schools and camps, that have played big roles in the lives of my family.

I'd pay off the mortgageS, the school loans, the college tuitions for our three kids.

Then, if there were anything left, I'd be mighty tempted to indulge my fantasy of a house on the water somewhere.  I don't have extravagant ideas for house and decor; I'm just interested in a very small place on the water with a deck and a kayak.  The problem is, WHERE??????  My current choices:  Port Clyde, Maine; Chincoteague, Virginia; St. Augustine, Florida; Traverse Bay, Michigan...and I'm sure that I could come up with several more, but I have got to finish packing!

Projected Vacation Weather - You Gotta be Tough

THU

88°F 31°C
73°F 22°C FRI

90°F 32°C
75°F 23°C SAT

91°F 32°C
74°F 23°C SUN

90°F 32°C
74°F 23°C MON

89°F 31°C
73°F 22°C TUE

89°F 31°C
73°F 22°C WED

89°F 31°C
73°F 22°C

Farmland and Mountains and Beach

Night Allium

In the next 10 days or so, I will be walking in rural southern Ohio, in the mountains of western North Carolina, and on the beach at St. Augustine -- assuming no further transportation diasters.

I'm drenched in sweat from a very slow walk this morning -- the humidity is on the rise again.  Here's hoping for ocean breezes.

Walked: 3 miles.

Almost There

The Poppies Again

I have nothing to journal about today except...

I'm done with my teaching year except for one assignment I have to drop off tomorrow...

We're leaving tomorrow night...

I'm exhausted!

But I:

Walked: 3 miles.

Academic Challenge

The Celts Again - Solstice Is Near

There has been a lot of school-related tension around here lately.

One college son is afraid he may have to change his plans for a major because he got in over his head in a required math course.  Of course, he says with his usual equanimity, if the math is a problem at this stage, then the school is doing him a favor by letting him know. 

The other college son was feeling really good as his grades rolled in, day by day, until disaster struck this morning in the form of a grade much lower than anticipated.  A few frantic hours, emails, and phone calls later, he had discovered that he had completely misunderstood the expectations for the last week of the class, thereby unwittingly blowing three months of outstanding work.

My daughter says she has checked her email "500 times" today for grades that have yet to arrive.  She has absolutely no idea how she has done in at least three of her six classes, so her apprehension is real.

And I've turned in all my grades and comments for my students, and given all kinds of extra opportunties to high school freshmen who made the same kinds of errors in understanding that my college freshman son did, and withstood angry students insisting that they could not possibly deserve the grade that they earned.

I miss the preschool-through-8th-grade years that my children spent in a  Montessori school that did not issue grades.  Could anything possibly be worth the angst around here?

Walked: 3 miles.

More Comings and Goings -- and Stayings

Something Tranquil -- Needed Around Here

So....Chicago son got home at 1:00 a.m. Saturday due to a massive traffic jam.  His dad had a terrible time reaching Chicago and chose a different way home, only to learn that that road was blocked and homes were being evacuated due to an overturned hazmat trailer.  The alternate route?  The one that had given him so much trouble getting out there, of course.

Ten loads of wash (for me) and 12 hours of sleep (for him) later, I delivered that child to the bus station for his trip to North Carolina.  We had to wait an hour, and then I waited another 20 minutes past its departure time for the bus to leave.

Early the next morning, I got up for a few minutes and felt a flood of relief at not having received a telephone call -- he had to be well on his way.  Just as I drifted back to sleep, though, the phone rang.  Oh, well.  The bus had broken down after only 45 miutes. They had, of course, missed their connection.  He was routed on to the next bus, which required another transfer, and was feeling a little disconcerted by Greyhound's decision to handle the luggage itself.

Hours later I called the camp where he's working.  "Oh no, he's not here yet -- the bus is stuck in teaffic on the other side of the mountains," the secretary said calmly.  "Yesterday the road was closed for awhile when a trailer full of cucumbers overturned.  Maybe today it's tomatoes -- who knows?

He did make it, with his luggage, a full 22 hours after leaving our house. (It's a 10-hour drive.  I could have been there and back.)  Or maybe not.  I'm here to write about it because....my car battery died in the garage an hour ago!

So now it's time for a walk back to the gas station to retrieve the car and see what other transportation disasters await.  We're leaving for Florida on Thursday -- I can just imagine.

Walked: 1 pathetic mile.

Petblogging (Week-end Assignment #9)

Apollo Psycho Kitty has lived here since she was a few weeks old.  You would never know from the speed with which she disappears whenever she encounters a human that she has spent most of her existence in a loving and tolerant home. 

And yes, I know, Apollo was a male god.  Wanna make something of it?

When she was in 5th grade, my daughter began to volunteer at the local animal shelter.  It had just begun a Junior Humane Society program, which basically provided an opportunity for kids to go in and pet animals occasionally.  Since she was homeschooling that year, JHS became a big part of my daughter's life.  She continued to volunteer well into seventh grade, when her cadette girl scout troup raised money for the shelter by having an animal-treat bake sale.

By the time sixth grade rolled around, she had figured out a way for us to become even more involved: we could foster a mother cat and her kittens in their post-birth-pre-adoption weeks.  Oh boy: we could get five new cats instead of just one.  Every mother's dream. 

Mama Cass and Apollo, Dionysius, Aphrodite, and Athena, who had been born on the city streets somewhere, moved into our spare bedroom which, luckily, was scheduled for an overhaul later in the year.  The kids decided that the kittens should be named for inhabitants of Mount Olympus, and we all demonstrated that we are unfit zookeepers by unwittingly giving the boys the names of girls and vice versa.

The plan worked to some extent.  We did experience the joy of four kittens romping around, with the knowledge that when they grew into cats they would move on. They were orange and gray and tabby and fluffy and lots of fun.  Their mother, a scrawny thing too young and skinny for her maternal responsibilties, relaxed on the cushions we supplied, cast an occasional claw into the nose of an overly eager dog, and stayed clear of our other cat, who mostly stalked past the young family, emitting loud and lengthy hisses. 

Of course, the plan was not perfectly executed.  When the time came for the kitties to go, my daughter and I discovered that we were incapable of letting them all depart at once.  And so Apollo stayed, lazing about the house and hastily wriggling out of any situation that might involve human contact.  (She will, actually, sleep at the foot of the bed as long as Idon't intrude into her rather extensive personal zone of space.)

Just last week my daughter and I were wondering about the fates of the other cats.  I hope their lives are as cushy as Apollo's.

Walked: 3 miles.

Signs of Summer: Comings and Goings

In the Front Yard

Signs of summer with teenagers:

My daughter has finished school, thrown out piles and piles of papers, cleaned her room, taken the ACT (this morning), and made her first trip of the summer to Borders.  She will probably finish her new stack of books long before the week is out.

One son has come home from college, strewn his stuff all over the place, purchased a new guide to playing poker, and stayed up until about 5:00 a.m. every night (?) so far.

The other son arrived at 1:00 this morning.  For at least the next hour, several large teenage males munched donuts in my kitchen, all glad to be finished with a first year of college and home from New York, New Orleans, Chicago, wherever. 

I finally went to bed around 3:00, since I had to get the girl to her ACT before 8:00.

It's midafternoon and the boys are still asleep.  The second one is going to have to get up eventually, since he leaves for North Carolina tonight.  I think I've done seven loads of his laundry so far today... . The first one might get up, too, since there's been talk of a party three hours away tonight.

It was nice to have all of us under one roof for at least one night, or at least part of one night.

Walked: 4 miles.

Announcing....

First:

My new blog! about books and other things I'm reading. 

I thought it would be fun, and I was hoping that other people would suggest some books, too.  We'll see.  So far I've received one generous comment from a good friend, and my first-ever obscene response to a blog.

Second: my friend Marian is off to China on Sunday.  She should have some incredible walks to report.  Best wishes to the entire family for a wonderful journey.

And third:  thanks to Marian, I now own a pedometer.  As I told her last night, I spent 25 minutes trying to program it before turning it over to a teenager.  He didn't find it so simple either.  But it seems to work now and tomorrow I'll give it a try. 

Walked: 4.5 miles 

Walked this past week: 20 miles

Wildlife in the City

Suburban Coleus

As I walked around our small nearby lake this morning, I saw two rather large snapping turtles -- one in the grass thinking about a hike across the road on which cars park between the lake and a small woods, and another settled onto a wooden footbridge.  I'm guessing they were actually looking for places to lay their eggs; the one in the grass had stirred up some of the dirt around her by the time I had made the mile walk around the lake and come back to check on her, but the ground is hard there and I don't think she'll have much luck.

The Canada geese were there with their six growing goslings, and a mother wood duck slipped off the bank, followed by seven or eight young.  The ducklings are so tiny and so well camoflauged by their matching feathers, speed, and quick changes in formation, that they are impossible to count!

Half an hour later as I reached my own block, a neighbor's cat scurried across the pavement with something plump and limp in its mouth, most likely one of our ubiquitous chipmunks.  Once across the street, the cat slowed and sauntered leisurely down its driveway, looking back a couple of times as if to challenge me to just try and remove its trophy.

Walked: 4 miles.

 

Transitions II

This Allium Might Be a Bit Bigger Than I was Expecting...Nope; Fixed It!

It's hard to accomplish anything when everyone's in transition.

No walk yesterday.  I had planned to go out really early, but I woke up with such an intense headache that I could hardly move.  Then I thought I'd try lunchtime, but my daughter needed a ride (another of those hour round-trips) and it was in the 90s anyway.  And then I had to make a six-hour trip to pick my son up from college.  We had a wonderful trip home, filled with conversation about his year and plans, but by then time we got back it was after 11:00.

I did get out early this morning and took a decent walk with a friend, but it took her awhile to get going and now it's too hot again to try any more miles.  I have a huge stack of papers to grade, so I'd sure rather be outside -- except that it just rained and it's in the 90s, so steam is practically rising from the sidewalk.

Walked: 2.5 miles

Transitions

Solstice Preparation: Celtic Pattern in Cemetery

The Same Pattern, Pulled Out Into a Kaleidoscope

It's that in-between time of year.

My daughter has the first of her three exams today.  She has barely left the computer for the past two weeks, other than the day we took to go to Rochester and an evening out at Harry Potter III.  I think she will be glad to put junior year behind her.  I will be ecstatic.

Tomorrow afternoon I drive down to pick up one of my sons who is finishing his freshman year at the state university. He is turning four papers in today and then he has another year behind him.  He's looking forward to a summer quarter of school, but in France,  which should be an improvement over the Midwest.

On Friday my husband goes to pick up our other son, who by then will also have completed his freshman year.  His last final is scheduled at the last possible time, so he'll have about 24 hours at home before hopping a bus to his summer job.

And next Wednesday is my last teaching day of the year!  On Thursday we head for Florida, picking up the son already in North Carolina to take him with us for a few days of R&R in between orientation and actual work.

Phew.  At least I got the house cleaned up this week-end.

Walked: 3 miles.

Witch Child

Chicago Skyline

No, the picture has nothing to do with the topic.  I just popped it in for John Scalzi, since he's there this week-end, and since Paint Shop Pro is such fun to play with.

As long as we're on the topic of books, let me recommend Witch Child by Celia Rees, which I read yesterday as part of my search for appropriate summer reading for next year's 8th grade American History class -- a new challenge for me.  As a young adult novel, it's a quick read for an old fogie, and it's fascinating!  Having been raised by a woman she considers a grandmother and having seen her tortured and executed as a witch, our young heroine is provided passage to America with a group of Pilgrims in 1659.  Her fear of being exposed as a witch herself is ever with her as she endures a suffocating voyage to the New World and a new life bound by the rigid strictures of Puritan society.  Native Americans appear as knowledgeable friends and healers, scorned by the community whose very existence they preserve.  It's a great read, and there's a sequel!

Walked: 3 miles.

 

Birds and Trees

White-breasted Nuthatch
Sitta carolinensis
(http://www.conservation.state.mo.us/nathis/birds/birdatlas/maintext/0400176.htm)

Yesterday as I was walking through the cemetery, I noticed several white-breasted nuthatches flitting about in a tree.  It must have been a family newly fledged -- two birds flew easily back and forth in the treetops, but four or five others spent their time scurrying up and down the bark and making short flights among branches in close proximity to one another.

I tried to find a marker on the tree so that I could describe it by species.  The cemetery is an arboretum and many trees have been specially planted and marked over the last century.  There was no way for me to identify the nuthatch tree, but as I looked around, I could see that at least five trees within a few feet of me bore distinctive barks of their own.  I realized that I know absolutely nothing about trees.  On my walks I must pass dozens of species of trees with no idea of their names.

As I completed my walk, I paid some attention to the trees around me.  One, with a pattern of deeply groved bark, is called a black locust.  A little further down the road, I found a honey locust, which to my untrained eye looks completely different from a black locust.

I think I have discovered a new photo project!

Walked: 3 miles.

 

ONE Book? (Week-end Assignment #8)

I cannot choose an only one, 

Not in the rain, not in the sun.

There's not one book describing me --                                                                  

But I'm impressed; I'm down to three!

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee:

If you want to know about my childhood, Scout Finch is your girl.  I lived outside, not in, the small, sleepy town, and my cohorts were my brothers Kevin and David, rather than Jem and Dill, but everything else is about the same.  Oh -- and we rode bikes past our version of Boo Radley's house.  It would have been too far to reach curled up inside a tire.

Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris:

If you want to know about my spiritual life, start here.  She explains it all more lyrically than I ever could.  (Short version: disaffected Protestant finds Mystery and Spirit in the 1,500-year-old tradition of the Benedictines.)

The Courage to Teach by Parker Palmer:

And if you want to know about some of my all-encompassing goals for my work (and entire) life, Parker Palmer wrote the book in 1998.  It's not a how-to methodology book or a theoretical book or a book about braving the wilds of certain types of challenging classrooms. It's about being an authentic person.  It's about identity, integrity, and community, and is, therefore, applicable to any profession.  He could have called it The Courage To Live.

Walked: 3 miles.

Walked this past week: 24 miles.

Biology (Allium) and Physics Day

The Allium Are Hatching

My daughter left awhile ago to spend the entire day (and much of the night) at a huge amusement park with most of the junior class -- all those who are taking physics, anyway.  It won't be quite as much fun as it sounds -- they have to spend the first six hours completing a test, and they aren't permitted to speak to anyone other than their partners. (My daughter's pretty sociable, so being limited to two conversation partners for the day will be something of a challenge for her.)

But then the evening is theirs -- and it looks like instead of our daily drenching, they are going to experience an absolutely pristine summer day.  It's so clear and fresh that you'd think we were in Colorado.  A perfect day for repeated trips to the top of some of the world's highest roller coasters -- an adventure that I am thrilled to forego.

Walked:  3 miles.

Summer Solstice

Celtic Engraving on Headstone

Yes, I know that yesterday wasn't the first day of summer, and I know that the Solstice isn't for a few more weeks.  But I have always marked June 1 as the beginning of summer, probably because when I was in elementary school, we finished by Memorial Day, and so June did mark the onset of a season of warmth and sunshine and, most importantly, freedom!.

And with any luck, I'll celebrate the Solstice itself on a beach overlooking the Atlantic. There will be no computer in my life that week, so I thought I'd get started ahead of time.  I have some gravestone photos that are perfect for the task.  Above is a portion of a tall marker, and below is the same, using Paint Shop Pro's Kaleidoscope effect:

Pamela asked about my camera: it's a Canon Powershot S30 that my husband gave me Christmas before last.  At the time I was in no shape to take on a new challenge, so I've only just begun to play around with it in the last month or two.  I am not the least bit technologically minded, so I can only try one or two new things at a time over the space of several weeks.  It will be a long time before I exhaust the resources of the S30.

This photo was taken and is printed in color, by the way.  I've enhanced the contrast a bit, but what you see is pretty much the color of the stone itself.

Walked: 3 miles

Beginning of Summer

Kaleidoscope Poppies

Just an ordinary day around here -- back to work after nearly a week off and just a tad dysfunctional.  I can't wait for the end of the school year -- mostly because my daughter's junior year has been so stressful, but also because I'll be really glad to see my boys, however briefly, and really glad for some long stretches of time in which to write.  Two weeks from tomorrow is my last day, and I'm the last one around here to finish.

Walked: 3 miles.