Building off of Greenfield Avenue somewhere east of 60th street, Milwaukee
photo by A. Graf
Friday, June 16, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
I Met a Man
Today on my walk to the bus stop after school, I met a man. I said hello, and something in his manner and his, "How do you do?" made me stop and ask how he was doing. We chatted a few seconds and I asked him if he lived nearby. He thought he lived on the other side of the block, but he wasn't sure. I asked him if he knew his address, but he wasn't sure of that either. He did know his name, so we walked back to my house and I looked him up in the phone book.
He wan't listed, and I began to worry just a bit. I asked if he had someone at home that I could call. He said he had a lady, but he hadn't used her actual name in so long, he couldn't remember it. I suggested looking in his wallet for something with his address on it. He pulled out a small stack of cards and on top there was a woman's name and an address, ten blocks east of here. I read out the name and he said, "That's my woman! Don't ever tell her I forgot her name."
"Should I call her to come and get you?"
"Oh, no. That would be embarrassing."
My husband had just left with our van, so I offered to walk him home. He said I didn't have to, but he seemed happy to have company. Besides, I rather doubted he would have made it back without help. There are two extremely busy, uncontrolled intersections between my house and his that can be very difficult to cross, even for someone who has no trouble walking. At this time of day it would be downright dangerous. I made a quick mental note of the number on the paper now in his hand and told him I would just go get my keys.
While inside, I dialed the number that had been in his wallet and spoke to Ann, his lady. I explained what was obviously not an unfamiliar situation to her, and told her I would begin walking with Lou east on our street towards home. She agreed to drive up and meet us.
I came back out with my keys and we set off. He gripped our rickety railing and went down our stairs very slowly and carefully. I mentally prepared to catch him should he fall. He must be at least in his 80's and his tall, bony frame wobbled a bit as we made our way. He blamed the wind when he wavered towards the edge of the sidewalk. "It's trying to blow me over." He told me about being a kid on the south side of Milwaukee and how his grandmother spoke nothing but a dialect of Polish unintelligible to most of the Milwaukee Poles around her. He also told me how he took off four months ago and walked 75 blocks. Then he got tired and sat down. The police picked him up and took him home. He said this with a tone of how nice of those policemen to drive me all the way home!
We walked less than two blocks before a brown sedan pulled over and rolled down the window. His lady had arrived. Not to embarass him, I said she must have come looking for him. They both thanked me profusely, she in English and he in both English and Polish.
He wan't listed, and I began to worry just a bit. I asked if he had someone at home that I could call. He said he had a lady, but he hadn't used her actual name in so long, he couldn't remember it. I suggested looking in his wallet for something with his address on it. He pulled out a small stack of cards and on top there was a woman's name and an address, ten blocks east of here. I read out the name and he said, "That's my woman! Don't ever tell her I forgot her name."
"Should I call her to come and get you?"
"Oh, no. That would be embarrassing."
My husband had just left with our van, so I offered to walk him home. He said I didn't have to, but he seemed happy to have company. Besides, I rather doubted he would have made it back without help. There are two extremely busy, uncontrolled intersections between my house and his that can be very difficult to cross, even for someone who has no trouble walking. At this time of day it would be downright dangerous. I made a quick mental note of the number on the paper now in his hand and told him I would just go get my keys.
While inside, I dialed the number that had been in his wallet and spoke to Ann, his lady. I explained what was obviously not an unfamiliar situation to her, and told her I would begin walking with Lou east on our street towards home. She agreed to drive up and meet us.
I came back out with my keys and we set off. He gripped our rickety railing and went down our stairs very slowly and carefully. I mentally prepared to catch him should he fall. He must be at least in his 80's and his tall, bony frame wobbled a bit as we made our way. He blamed the wind when he wavered towards the edge of the sidewalk. "It's trying to blow me over." He told me about being a kid on the south side of Milwaukee and how his grandmother spoke nothing but a dialect of Polish unintelligible to most of the Milwaukee Poles around her. He also told me how he took off four months ago and walked 75 blocks. Then he got tired and sat down. The police picked him up and took him home. He said this with a tone of how nice of those policemen to drive me all the way home!
We walked less than two blocks before a brown sedan pulled over and rolled down the window. His lady had arrived. Not to embarass him, I said she must have come looking for him. They both thanked me profusely, she in English and he in both English and Polish.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Can someone please give me a plausible explanation into this current fashion trend? Is there any function, statement or excuse for wearing your pants thus, as this young man was doing last night at my daughter's track meet? I've seen fashions come and go, styles that I don't appreciate, such as the miniskirt, gauchos or pointy-toed shoes - but this one goes beyond comprehension for me. It just looks plain stupid.
photo by A. Graf
Monday, May 29, 2006
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Run-Ins With Local Wildlife
Few folks can boast the recent run-ins with local wildlife that I can.
In January, I hit a full grown deer at about 45 miles per hour on a dark country road. Three days ago a jaguar ran into our mini-van on a quiet residential street. A 2004 Jaguar X-Type, that is, at about 35 miles per hour. He was speeding, but he also had the right-of-way so I'll probably get pegged with most of the blame. I can so clearly remember my driver's ed teacher admonishing us about the most commonly given excuse after an accident, "I didn't see him." That was about it. By the time I did see him, we were T-1 second to impact.
His jag still looked better than our van when all was said and done. No one was hurt, physically. I was pretty shaken up, and then, of course, all the wheels started spinning as the numbers began dancing through my head: deductibles, increased insurance premiums, number of days without this vehicle while it's being worked on, the number of days remaining until our long-awaited family vacation to the east coast, and the difference, if any, between those last two items. Might we not even have a vehicle for our trip?
The next couple of days were a blur of phone calls to and from insurance, the body shop and our local mechanic, who took a look at our other, older van for us to see if it was okay to drive while the newer van was being fixed. This old van has been sitting on our back slab for about eight months during our half hearted attempts to sell it. My husband jumped the dead battery and I got it to the garage where they gave it a surprisingly good report. Needs a few things, but nothing grossly expensive or immediate, and is a better alternative than squishing the six of us into a Ford Taurus for a month and then paying $450 to do it. It's at times like these when you discover what's really on your auto insurance policy and what isn't. Rental car reimbursement wasn't. During one phone call yesterday, I added this benefit for only $18 a year.
After yet one more phone call to our insurance company to add coverage to the old van, and the requisite trip to the DMV to get license plates, we are once again free to purchase $3.00/gallon fossil fuels and then burn them to destroy the ozone layer like the rest of America.
So the saga continues, and we'll see what comes of it. Will the auto body guys be done with our van before our trip? Will I be slapped with total responsibility for this accident? Will our premiums skyrocket? Will we ultimately become more familiar with MCTS (a.k.a. the bus)? Will George Bush's latest tax cut help me pay for all of this?
Stay tuned.
In January, I hit a full grown deer at about 45 miles per hour on a dark country road. Three days ago a jaguar ran into our mini-van on a quiet residential street. A 2004 Jaguar X-Type, that is, at about 35 miles per hour. He was speeding, but he also had the right-of-way so I'll probably get pegged with most of the blame. I can so clearly remember my driver's ed teacher admonishing us about the most commonly given excuse after an accident, "I didn't see him." That was about it. By the time I did see him, we were T-1 second to impact.
His jag still looked better than our van when all was said and done. No one was hurt, physically. I was pretty shaken up, and then, of course, all the wheels started spinning as the numbers began dancing through my head: deductibles, increased insurance premiums, number of days without this vehicle while it's being worked on, the number of days remaining until our long-awaited family vacation to the east coast, and the difference, if any, between those last two items. Might we not even have a vehicle for our trip?
The next couple of days were a blur of phone calls to and from insurance, the body shop and our local mechanic, who took a look at our other, older van for us to see if it was okay to drive while the newer van was being fixed. This old van has been sitting on our back slab for about eight months during our half hearted attempts to sell it. My husband jumped the dead battery and I got it to the garage where they gave it a surprisingly good report. Needs a few things, but nothing grossly expensive or immediate, and is a better alternative than squishing the six of us into a Ford Taurus for a month and then paying $450 to do it. It's at times like these when you discover what's really on your auto insurance policy and what isn't. Rental car reimbursement wasn't. During one phone call yesterday, I added this benefit for only $18 a year.
After yet one more phone call to our insurance company to add coverage to the old van, and the requisite trip to the DMV to get license plates, we are once again free to purchase $3.00/gallon fossil fuels and then burn them to destroy the ozone layer like the rest of America.
So the saga continues, and we'll see what comes of it. Will the auto body guys be done with our van before our trip? Will I be slapped with total responsibility for this accident? Will our premiums skyrocket? Will we ultimately become more familiar with MCTS (a.k.a. the bus)? Will George Bush's latest tax cut help me pay for all of this?
Stay tuned.
Friday, May 12, 2006
My Finest Hour
You know it's not the best day you've ever had when you spend it waiting for the last feedback to come in that will change your eBay rating from 99 to 100, thus replacing the long-held royal blue star next to your name to a shiny new sky blue. This will be my third star color, and I have to wait a long time until I see purple, the next hue in line at 500 transactions.
Sorry for the boring entry. It's cold, dull and rainy here in the Midwest. I guess it's rather the same in my head.
Sorry for the boring entry. It's cold, dull and rainy here in the Midwest. I guess it's rather the same in my head.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Reading the Dictionary for Fun
My ten-year old has been reading through, cover to cover, her phone book-sized dictionary. Today at school on the playground, toting this heavy tome, she asked me, "If I read through the entire dictionary, will I remember everything like Grandpa, or will I have to do it twice?"
Monday, May 01, 2006
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Speaking of Faith
"We don't make progress by denying our experience." I am quoting John Polkinghorne as he was interviewed this afternoon on the NPR radio program Speaking of Faith. Rev. Dr. Polkinghorne is a physicist and Anglican priest and was discussing one of my favorite subjects of late, the happy coexistence of the Christian faith and science. It does no good to deny truth when it doesn't fit your understanding of faith. Christians should never fear truth, as all truth is truly God's.
Apparently Dietrich Bonhoeffer said something to the effect that since God is unknowable, as man discovers more and more "truths" in the scientific world, God is pushed farther and farther away from us. Mr. Polkinghorne countered with the idea that since the Christian God is a god of truth, whenever we uncover more scientific truth, we get to know God better. I embrace the second theory. Our universe is amazing and we should not be afraid to discover how it works.
Apparently Dietrich Bonhoeffer said something to the effect that since God is unknowable, as man discovers more and more "truths" in the scientific world, God is pushed farther and farther away from us. Mr. Polkinghorne countered with the idea that since the Christian God is a god of truth, whenever we uncover more scientific truth, we get to know God better. I embrace the second theory. Our universe is amazing and we should not be afraid to discover how it works.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Too Many Poets?
The following quote is taken from Ted Kooser's (current Poet Laureate of the US) recent book entitled The Poetry Home Repair Manual.
--
A noted contemporary poet and critic has said we ought to keep poetry a secret from the masses. Another, the editor of a prestigious anthology of poetry, said that each nation ought to have no more than a handful of poets. Both sound pretty elitist, don't they? Well, we'll always have among us those who think the best should be reserved for the few. Considering the ways in which so many of us waste our time, what would be wrong with a world in which everybody were writing poems? After all, there's a significant service to humanity in spending time doing no harm. While you're writing your poem, there's one less scoundrel in the world. And I'd like a world, wouldn't you, in which people actually took time to think about what they were saying? It would be, I'm certain, a more peaceful, more reasonable place. I don't think there could ever be too many poets. By writing poetry, even those poems that fail and fail miserably, we honor and affirm life. We say "We loved the earth but could not stay."
--
So, instead of taking a gun to someone's head, or your own for that matter, write a poem. Spill your guts metaphorically across a clean, white page with carefully chosen words and lucid linguistic imagery. You'll feel better and so might someone else.
--
A noted contemporary poet and critic has said we ought to keep poetry a secret from the masses. Another, the editor of a prestigious anthology of poetry, said that each nation ought to have no more than a handful of poets. Both sound pretty elitist, don't they? Well, we'll always have among us those who think the best should be reserved for the few. Considering the ways in which so many of us waste our time, what would be wrong with a world in which everybody were writing poems? After all, there's a significant service to humanity in spending time doing no harm. While you're writing your poem, there's one less scoundrel in the world. And I'd like a world, wouldn't you, in which people actually took time to think about what they were saying? It would be, I'm certain, a more peaceful, more reasonable place. I don't think there could ever be too many poets. By writing poetry, even those poems that fail and fail miserably, we honor and affirm life. We say "We loved the earth but could not stay."
--
So, instead of taking a gun to someone's head, or your own for that matter, write a poem. Spill your guts metaphorically across a clean, white page with carefully chosen words and lucid linguistic imagery. You'll feel better and so might someone else.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Resurrection and Reappearances
It's almost Easter again and Christians around the world are reminded of the resurrection of Christ, rebirth and new life. I am reminded of something else.
My recently latent fears have been resurrected by a collection of 30 limbs radiating from a sleek and slender, striped little body clinging to the cinder block wall above the laundry sink in our basement tonight. That's her above. Remember last Easter Sunday morning? The day I learned that two-and-a-half dozen little grippers sometimes just isn't enough to keep a centipede on the wall? Oh, yeah. I'm thinking about Easter, all right. What was God thinking when he made these things? And why do they seem to be developing a habit of showing up at the most hopeful time of year?
My recently latent fears have been resurrected by a collection of 30 limbs radiating from a sleek and slender, striped little body clinging to the cinder block wall above the laundry sink in our basement tonight. That's her above. Remember last Easter Sunday morning? The day I learned that two-and-a-half dozen little grippers sometimes just isn't enough to keep a centipede on the wall? Oh, yeah. I'm thinking about Easter, all right. What was God thinking when he made these things? And why do they seem to be developing a habit of showing up at the most hopeful time of year?
Thursday, April 06, 2006
I Love Brussels Sprouts, But Barium I Can Do Without
A few years ago when we first invited James to come to dinner, I asked him if there were any foods that he couldn't eat or didn't like. He replied that there were indeed two things in life he simply would not eat: Brussels Sprouts and barium. I carefully avoided both of these in the evening's meal.
This morning I had my first upper GI and with it, my first taste of barium. I have to say it was not all that bad. I wouldn't want to drink it if I didn't have to, but it certainly wasn't as awful as some would make it seem. It was thick and chalky, yes, but thankfully bland, and I had no trouble swallowing it.
First, they gave me what basically amounted to a small dose of Pop Rocks. Then I chased that immediately with a thick barium shake. While I stood there gulping the glop, they took pictures of my suddenly gas-distended abdomen as the white goo slimed down my digestive tract. The attending physician pointed out a bunch of my interesting internal landmarks to the two radiology interns who were taking the x-rays and watching the journey down my throat on a monitor above my head.
Once this dose was down and the doctor was satisfied with the pictures, I was carefully tilted back down onto my back, rolled gently from side to side to allow the gunk to fully coat all sides of my innards, and then x-rayed from various degrees around my body. Halfway through this I also had to drink another larger cup of thinner barium. This was slightly more difficult as I was already full of gas bubbles and the thicker first serving, but I managed okay, only dribbling a little onto the table and pillow. More photos and then it was over.
One of the nurses handed me a warm, wet washcloth to wipe the white residue off my lips. I hadn't realized I had made such a pig of myself. Got barium?
Monday, April 03, 2006
Time Warp
A friend just forwarded me an e-mail in which it is explained that on Wednesday of this week at two minutes and three seconds after one o'clock it will be 01:02:03 04/05/06.
Reading this e-mail, I was transported back in time to Camp LuWiSoMo on the shores of Round Lake, where I attended a weekend retreat in middle school. Our youth pastor at the time, Pastor Chuck, made us count down the seconds until the clock struck 12:34 pm, making the time and date read 12:34 5/6/78. I have always remembered this. I think at the time Pastor Chuck must have hoped we would.
Reading this e-mail, I was transported back in time to Camp LuWiSoMo on the shores of Round Lake, where I attended a weekend retreat in middle school. Our youth pastor at the time, Pastor Chuck, made us count down the seconds until the clock struck 12:34 pm, making the time and date read 12:34 5/6/78. I have always remembered this. I think at the time Pastor Chuck must have hoped we would.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Wet Sunday
We tried to take a family hike today out at Lapham Peak State Park. Even bought our annual sticker. The skies started misting on the drive out and it was a regular spring shower by the time we hit the parking lot near the observation tower. Rats.
The kids fought the entire way back to town. By the time we pulled up in front of our house, my husband and I were ready to kick the kids out of the van and speed off by ourselves. Instead, he kept them in the vehicle and gave them a talking-to while I grabbed the tripod I hadn't been able to use in the park and my macro lens to shoot the first wet blooms of spring in our own front yard.
The kids fought the entire way back to town. By the time we pulled up in front of our house, my husband and I were ready to kick the kids out of the van and speed off by ourselves. Instead, he kept them in the vehicle and gave them a talking-to while I grabbed the tripod I hadn't been able to use in the park and my macro lens to shoot the first wet blooms of spring in our own front yard.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
The article below gave me a chuckle. I have no fear for how God feels on the subject, but I do wonder what he thinks. I still believe in prayer, always for the sake of the prayee, but maybe even more for the wellbeing of the prayer.
We've all heard it said how vast and immeasurable God is, how far above are his thoughts from our own. Even if we could tell him what to do, would we be better off persuading him? I love that he knows what to do. I also love that I can tell him what I want, or what I feel. I can trust him to do what is best, the perfect part of a perfect prayer being the submission itself to his will.
Finally, someone I can really trust. I didn't say understand, but that's okay for now.
We've all heard it said how vast and immeasurable God is, how far above are his thoughts from our own. Even if we could tell him what to do, would we be better off persuading him? I love that he knows what to do. I also love that I can tell him what I want, or what I feel. I can trust him to do what is best, the perfect part of a perfect prayer being the submission itself to his will.
Finally, someone I can really trust. I didn't say understand, but that's okay for now.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Does God Believe in Humans?
By MALCOLM RITTER, AP Science Writer 3-30-06
NEW YORK - In the largest study of its kind, researchers found that having people pray for heart bypass surgery patients had no effect on their recovery. In fact, patients who knew they were being prayed for had a slightly higher rate of complications.
Researchers emphasized that their work can't address whether God exists or answers prayers made on another's behalf. The study can only look for an effect from prayers offered as part of the research, they said.
They also said they had no explanation for the higher complication rate in patients who knew they were being prayed for, in comparison to patients who only knew it was possible prayers were being said for them.
Critics said the question of God's reaction to prayers simply can't be explored by scientific study.
The work, which followed about 1,800 patients at six medical centers, was financed by the Templeton Foundation, which supports research into science and religion. It will appear in the American Heart Journal.
Dr. Herbert Benson of Harvard Medical School and other scientists tested the effect of having three Christian groups pray for particular patients, starting the night before surgery and continuing for two weeks. The volunteers prayed for "a successful surgery with a quick, healthy recovery and no complications" for specific patients, for whom they were given the first name and first initial of the last name.
The patients, meanwhile, were split into three groups of about 600 apiece: those who knew they were being prayed for, those who were prayed for but only knew it was a possibility, and those who weren't prayed for but were told it was a possibility.
The researchers didn't ask patients or their families and friends to alter any plans they had for prayer, saying such a step would have been unethical and impractical.
The study looked for any complications within 30 days of the surgery. Results showed no effect of prayer on complication-free recovery. But 59 percent of the patients who knew they were being prayed for developed a complication, versus 52 percent of those who were told it was just a possibility.
Dr. Harold G. Koenig, director of the Center for Spirituality, Theology and Health at the Duke University Medical Center, who didn't take part in the study, said the results didn't surprise him.
"There are no scientific grounds to expect a result and there are no real theological grounds to expect a result either," he said. "There is no god in either the Christian, Jewish or Moslem scriptures that can be constrained to the point that they can be predicted."
Within the Christian tradition, God would be expected to be concerned with a person's eternal salvation, he said, and "why would God change his plans for a particular person just because they're in a research study?"
Science, he said, "is not designed to study the supernatural."
NEW YORK - In the largest study of its kind, researchers found that having people pray for heart bypass surgery patients had no effect on their recovery. In fact, patients who knew they were being prayed for had a slightly higher rate of complications.
Researchers emphasized that their work can't address whether God exists or answers prayers made on another's behalf. The study can only look for an effect from prayers offered as part of the research, they said.
They also said they had no explanation for the higher complication rate in patients who knew they were being prayed for, in comparison to patients who only knew it was possible prayers were being said for them.
Critics said the question of God's reaction to prayers simply can't be explored by scientific study.
The work, which followed about 1,800 patients at six medical centers, was financed by the Templeton Foundation, which supports research into science and religion. It will appear in the American Heart Journal.
Dr. Herbert Benson of Harvard Medical School and other scientists tested the effect of having three Christian groups pray for particular patients, starting the night before surgery and continuing for two weeks. The volunteers prayed for "a successful surgery with a quick, healthy recovery and no complications" for specific patients, for whom they were given the first name and first initial of the last name.
The patients, meanwhile, were split into three groups of about 600 apiece: those who knew they were being prayed for, those who were prayed for but only knew it was a possibility, and those who weren't prayed for but were told it was a possibility.
The researchers didn't ask patients or their families and friends to alter any plans they had for prayer, saying such a step would have been unethical and impractical.
The study looked for any complications within 30 days of the surgery. Results showed no effect of prayer on complication-free recovery. But 59 percent of the patients who knew they were being prayed for developed a complication, versus 52 percent of those who were told it was just a possibility.
Dr. Harold G. Koenig, director of the Center for Spirituality, Theology and Health at the Duke University Medical Center, who didn't take part in the study, said the results didn't surprise him.
"There are no scientific grounds to expect a result and there are no real theological grounds to expect a result either," he said. "There is no god in either the Christian, Jewish or Moslem scriptures that can be constrained to the point that they can be predicted."
Within the Christian tradition, God would be expected to be concerned with a person's eternal salvation, he said, and "why would God change his plans for a particular person just because they're in a research study?"
Science, he said, "is not designed to study the supernatural."
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
A More Pleasant Way to Die
Did that title get your attention?
My younger daughter had to write a paper on smoking. She asked me to type it for her. In it, she mentioned that cigarettes contained liquor, not licorice, and that liquor was bad for you.
I explained to her what tobacco and nicotine were and she lit up immediately, "Oh, yeah! That's what I meant. Can we change liquor to nicotine?"
I made the changes and then saw that she had written, "Over 100 people have died from smoking." After a trip to Google, we changed that to, "Over four million people die around the world every year as a result of smoking." That figure does not include deaths related to second-hand smoke.
I had two chocolate almond Dove ice cream bars today and one slice of homemade coconut pie. Though not really good for me, that was so much more pleasant than smoking a bunch of cigarettes.
My younger daughter had to write a paper on smoking. She asked me to type it for her. In it, she mentioned that cigarettes contained liquor, not licorice, and that liquor was bad for you.
I explained to her what tobacco and nicotine were and she lit up immediately, "Oh, yeah! That's what I meant. Can we change liquor to nicotine?"
I made the changes and then saw that she had written, "Over 100 people have died from smoking." After a trip to Google, we changed that to, "Over four million people die around the world every year as a result of smoking." That figure does not include deaths related to second-hand smoke.
I had two chocolate almond Dove ice cream bars today and one slice of homemade coconut pie. Though not really good for me, that was so much more pleasant than smoking a bunch of cigarettes.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
My Favorite Day of the Year
By 1:26 pm today, Spring will have officially arrived, even if in name only. This is truly my favorite day of the year. I don't know if it means that much to those of you in milder climes, but here in the Midwest it represents all that is hopeful, beautiful and good. The sky may be overcast, as it is here today, and the air may remain chilly for weeks to come, as it is today, but we know beyond all doubt that the good stuff is closer than it was before!
I am just beginning to notice the leaves of the earliest bulbs poking up from the ground in south-facing gardens. Some years I have had crocus actually blooming in late February, but not this year. Thin carpets of snow remain in the shadow footprints on the north side of bushes and houses, but otherwise the ground is mostly clear. Within the space of just one month, we will be blooming all over the place. I almost forget each year what forsythia looks like, which is one of the blessings of our climate - to have the time and space to mourn, then be rewarded with warmth, color and scent as if for the first time each spring. I love it. I love the anticipation of it almost as much as I love the actual blooms. It can only get better from here on out!
I am just beginning to notice the leaves of the earliest bulbs poking up from the ground in south-facing gardens. Some years I have had crocus actually blooming in late February, but not this year. Thin carpets of snow remain in the shadow footprints on the north side of bushes and houses, but otherwise the ground is mostly clear. Within the space of just one month, we will be blooming all over the place. I almost forget each year what forsythia looks like, which is one of the blessings of our climate - to have the time and space to mourn, then be rewarded with warmth, color and scent as if for the first time each spring. I love it. I love the anticipation of it almost as much as I love the actual blooms. It can only get better from here on out!
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
The Goods, Delivered to My Feet
I like to walk and I like to find things as I go. When we used to live on the East Side, I would often find money. The East Side was very good for loose change. The population is denser and many more people over there either go by foot or dig in their pockets for meter money, dropping it into snowbanks to be found weeks or months later by people like me, not above stooping down to pick up a dirty penny, even in the middle of the road.
One year I decided to conduct a little experiment. I began keeping track of exactly how much money I found, putting each month's cache into its own plastic film canister. I only found one piece of paper money that year, a single dollar bill in the road on Cramer Street near the engineering building on campus - I believe it was in March. Why I remember these things, I don't know. By the end of the year, I had eight dollars and fifty-eight cents, all in coins save the one dollar. Of course, my husband, in the span of the same year, found $5.00 outside our apartment building one morning and another $20.00 in front of the frame shop where he was working. Go figure.
I bring this up because this past week has been a very good one for finding things. First, I found a one-pound box of PrimeGuard phillips-head 3.5-inch exterior screws that were inadvertantly dropped and then run over by any number of vehicles in our alley right behind our house. I can use those. A few days later in the cemetary, I found a small, threaded brass finial, shaped like a chess pawn, shiny and heavy in the hand.
This morning, I found a 1 by 1.5-inch chunk of purple amethyst crystal by the sidewalk near the park. Certainly not an autochthonous gem, a child somewhere is missing her treasure.
One year I decided to conduct a little experiment. I began keeping track of exactly how much money I found, putting each month's cache into its own plastic film canister. I only found one piece of paper money that year, a single dollar bill in the road on Cramer Street near the engineering building on campus - I believe it was in March. Why I remember these things, I don't know. By the end of the year, I had eight dollars and fifty-eight cents, all in coins save the one dollar. Of course, my husband, in the span of the same year, found $5.00 outside our apartment building one morning and another $20.00 in front of the frame shop where he was working. Go figure.
I bring this up because this past week has been a very good one for finding things. First, I found a one-pound box of PrimeGuard phillips-head 3.5-inch exterior screws that were inadvertantly dropped and then run over by any number of vehicles in our alley right behind our house. I can use those. A few days later in the cemetary, I found a small, threaded brass finial, shaped like a chess pawn, shiny and heavy in the hand.
This morning, I found a 1 by 1.5-inch chunk of purple amethyst crystal by the sidewalk near the park. Certainly not an autochthonous gem, a child somewhere is missing her treasure.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
