A Vacation in a Vacation

Balboa Island is one of my happy places in this world.  We spent most all summers here when I was growing up.  My nephew Ryan generously let us use his beautiful house here for a So. Cal vacation within our Christmas holiday with the family.  Bob, Erik and I drove down the day after Christmas to get the place ready for the rest of the family who arrived on Friday.  Our trip South took a grueling 13 hours, with Erik driving for the last very stressful 5 hours.  Thank goodness for Erik!  Down here on Balboa Island, I feel safely insulated from the crazy traffic and crowds so common in So. Cal.  Here it’s not more crowded than I remember it being when I was a child.  Here, I’m happy sitting and watching the boats go by on the Bay and watching all the people walk by on the promenade.  Here, walking around the Island twice a day makes me very happy.  I love sharing my memories from long ago with whoever will listen.  We’ve already had family adventures:  yesterday going to Crystal Cove State Park and taking a long walk on the beach;  walking around the Island at night ooohing and aaaahing at the many extravagant and kitschy light displays;  playing board games and this morning, the young folks took off on the bicycles to explore Balboa Peninsula, the Fun Zone and Newport Beach nearby.  Cooking highlights are many.  Paula’s delicious cinnamon rolls this morning were the big hit, a tradition really at holiday time.  I made split pea soup with the Christmas ham bone.  Erik and Erika teamed up on the first night to make tacos.  It’s all good.  Tomorrow, Arne and Karna and kids arrive and all 11 of us will squeeze into the house.  There are beds and rooms enough here for all of us.  What a blessing this all is.

Christmas is a Memory

I learned again the word chiaroscuro while watching The Tale of Despereaux.  Shadow and light were used in the staging to quite a dramatic effect.  One of the characters was even named Roscuro.  He was the dark villain, yet also in the end quite lovable, containing both light and dark in his being.  Our Christmas had some of that coloring too, though the light was made brighter by the shadows.  Everyone in the family was there, even Arne’s old decrepit dog who can’t walk on our hardwood floors.  Christmas Eve, the children played, the adults gathered in groups to chat and the sons riffed off each other as they do.  Some of us went to our new little church for a service of Lessons and Carols.  The young minister started with advice a seasoned minister gave him about his Christmas sermon: “there’s so much going on this time of year, no one even remembers the sermon.”  Ironically, the sermon was about remembering, remembering and bringing to life the story of Jesus being born.  I’ve always thought the point of the Christmas story is to make it come alive in our lives.

We came back and had a wonderful dinner, sitting for a long time around our big old table.  The children opened their new matching PJ’s from Aunt Karna, a loved tradition and great for the photographs.  We mellowed further sitting around the Christmas tree.  The children stayed up too late watching “The Grinch who Stole Christmas.”  It was a Christmas Eve with family being family.  I appreciated again that we were altogether.

In the morning, Arne cooked breakfast, amazing waffles from scratch.  When he told me he was going to do this, I said, “But I don’t have a waffle iron.”  It was not a worry for him.  He borrowed one from a neighbor.  It hadn’t been used in twenty years and needed pliers to hold the griddles to the heat. My dad used to make us “special waffles” when I was a kid.  It is heartwarming to see Arne keep the tradition alive.  Finally, we moved into the living room and sat around the tree in front of the big pile of presents.  Christmas really is for the children.  Their excitement, their bright eyes, filled all our hearts with happiness.  Elsa was thrilled to give her father a new worm composting box she’d made with grandpa.  Erika (in 8th grade) was over the moon with a new Harry Potter wand.  She had to go into her bedroom and text (or maybe call) her friends back in Michigan to tell them about it.  Sonja and Liam just loved it all.  The adults, who had ceded their package opening turns to the children, went on late into the morning opening their multitudes of gifts.  When there are eleven people and everyone gives everyone a gift, it’s a really big pile.  After the orgy of gift giving and receiving, we all rested.  Paula went out for a run.  I put my feet up on my new solid cherry spinning stool from Bob and looked at my new books!  The morning ended with a special visit by dear longtime friends who always pop by on Christmas morning.   I wonder what it is we are teaching the children by this Christmas ritual.  I hope it involves the joy of giving as well as receiving and that really it is all about love and being together.

But the shadows snuck in too.  Bob discovered Christmas morning that the sewer system was clogged.  He’d even had a plumber come in early December to clean out the pipes to make sure this didn’t happen.  I discovered the day before Christmas Eve that my oven

didn’t get hot enough to cook much.  Lucky there is a second small oven under the big one.  We limped along and coped with the failings of our old creaky house.  The creaky old couple, Grandpa and Gramma, overcame the shadows to remember and pay more attention to the light which is  made brighter by the challenges of shadows.  This is truly the Spirit of Christmas.  Like the scripture from John, “He (Jesus) is the Light and the Light overcame the darkness.”

The Tale of Despereaux

Going to a major theater or musical production has become a part of our family tradition over the Christmas holidays.  We went to Nutcracker productions, trying different ones over the years from San Francisco to Oakland even to San Jose.  Last year, we went to a Christmas program at the San Francisco Symphony.  A memorable moment was when Erik arrived straight from London, rushing into the concert hall at the very last minute evoking a cheer from our group!  This year I got tickets for us all to see a musical, The Tale of Despereaux, right near home at the Berkeley Repertory Theater.  It was put on by a group of  fourteen talented young entertainers called the Pigpen Theater Company.  It was billed as suitable for children and adults and it was.  The musical closely followed a children’s book from 2003 by Kate DiCamillo.   It was a fabulous production.   I’ve never seen anything like it.  It was a very high energy, almost manic, very loud and fast paced production.  The players carried instruments and made music as they acted — with guitars, a drum, a violin, a banjo, percussion and a keyboard and all had wonderful voices.  Much of the dialogue was sung, it was a musical after all.  The staging was fantastic, with stark contrasts of light and dark, calling the audience into an imaginary realm, with talking mice and rats, puppets, shadow puppets all set in a castle in the Kingdom of Dor.  At first, I had trouble following what was happening, it moved so fast but toward the end of the musical, I was overcome with the profound message for today about how we can repair broken relationships through the power of forgiveness.  We all loved the production and I hope many happy memories were created.  When we were leaving the theater, I bumped into a former student from College Prep.  Erika was very impressed she remembered me and spoke to me.  It made me doubly happy.  Then the whole group of 11 of us found a restaurant and just spent time together eating our healthy food.

Waiting

Waiting plays an important part in Advent, the church season before Christmas.  It starts with a Sunday devoted to John the Baptist, the wild-eyed baptizing cousin of Jesus.  He prepared the way for Jesus the story says.  We light candles, on our table Advent wreath, one more each week during Advent.  The candle light brightens as we grow closer to Christmas.  Today is the Solstice, the longest night of the year.  Many cultures celebrate the coming of longer days and eventually life-giving Spring with rituals and parties.  Christians celebrate the coming of the Light, literally, and by celebrating the birth of Jesus this time of year.  No one really knows what day and month Jesus was born.  I think it was tied to the Solstice to bring Pagans into Christianity.  For me, now,  everything is prepared.  I wait.  I’ve changed all the furniture around, made the beds, wrapped all the presents, bought the food for our big meals, baked cookies, written and sent all the Christmas cards and now I wait.  Waiting for the Light of our bright families bring.  I am grateful they want to come to be with us.   I am grateful we are healthy and strong enough to handle the whole crowd.   It isn’t something to be taken for granted.  Each year, I wonder if this is the last year of our big celebration here.  As the children grow up, there’s less excitement about being in Gramma’s kitchen or in Grandpa’s shop.  I am sure that when they come, light will come too.  Bright eyes, excited and loving, shine with light. We will laugh with pleasure and great joy.  We will hug.  Then we’ll settle in, someone at the piano, others playing games, memories will be made.  The big table will hold wonderful meals, with stories told, and lively conversation.   I await their coming later today and very late tonight.  What a gift it is to have our loving family altogether for Christmas.

My Favorite Christmas Poem

This is my favorite Christmas poem. 

I will Light Candles this Christmas

by Howard Thurman

I will light Candles this Christmas;

Candles of joy despite all sadness,

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch,

Candles of courage for fears ever present,

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens,

Candles of love to inspire all my living,

Candles that will burn all the year long.  

President Impeached!

Yesterday the Democrats in House of Representatives voted to impeach President Trump on two counts.  I rejoice and feel that my voice has been heard.  For nearly 3 years this man has been systematically dismantling our democracy.  He is against everything I have valued my whole life long.  He has lowered the position of our country overseas.  Our allies laugh at him; our enemies rub their hands together in glee with his ineptitude and favor he gives to them.  From his campaign time, he said he could do whatever he wanted.  He could shoot someone on 5th Avenue and his base would still support him.   But no one is above the law in our country.  One thing I still cannot get my head around is the alternative reality that the people who voted for him and still support him have.  I suppose that is because I don’t watch Fox News’ propaganda machine.  Imagine that the ranking Republican on the Intelligence Committee called Trump a “gentleman.”  If he’s a gentleman then what is a lying demagogue? I don’t want to get started with my complaints about him.  Suffice it to say, watching Intelligence Committee investigation, I was deeply impressed with the integrity, honor
 and intelligence of our civil servants.  Listening to the House Democrats’ speeches, again I was impressed with their thoughtfulness and love of our country.  I am so happy the House Impeached President Trump.  It makes me sad that it had to come to this, that he got elected in the first place.  Whatever happens in the Senate with the nasty sniveling Mitch McConnell in cahoots with the White House will happen.  But I know there is still some honor left in our government because of the House Democrats!

Overflowing Gratitude

I am feeling such overwhelming gratitude I hardly know what to do.  I have just come from selling my hand-spun yarn at the Lawrence Berkeley Lab Craft Fair.  So many of the people who bought yarn had absolutely beautiful reasons for buying it:  for their mothers, or their girlfriends who like to knit.  Others, mostly men, stood there looking at the yarn for so long before buying any.  They took photos of me spinning the yarn.  They wanted to please someone they loved by giving them something they could use to create something beautiful. How lucky am I to be a part of this!  Other young women, who loved to knit or crochet, imagined beautiful scarves or hats and bought the yarn. How fun it was to be there with Bob at the next space selling his horseshoe art.  And then I think about the coming holiday and how amazing wonderful it is that our family wants to come to all crowd into our house and be together for the Christmas holiday.  How wonderful that all four grandchildren will be together here, making gingerbread houses, learning to cook krumkakes, playing games together.  We are so very fortunate.  Gratitude overflows.  Thanks be to God.

Car Crash

Another opportunity to look at the bright side of things just happened.  It’s hard when push comes to shove.  I spent part of Thanksgiving day in the Emergency Room with Bob but came away so grateful he was ok.  Late this afternoon, on my way to get our Christmas tree, I was in an accident.  I was driving Bob’s truck to Home Depot where we get our Christmas trees.  I was stopped at the corner of Cedar and Sacramento, heading west on Cedar.  When the light turned green (I was first in line), in the blink of an eye, in an instant, a white Acura SUV crashed into me.  I never saw it coming.  He was going fast in the left lane and ran the red light.  The Acura spun around in a dramatic wide circle ending up against a fire hydrant pointing South.  The truck was left in the middle of the intersection now littered with shards of glass and yellow plastic.  I parked the truck and ran across the street to see if the driver of the SUV was ok.  He was.  We both seemed ok.  He was a young, spoke only Spanish and was very quiet.  A woman on the corner who had come out of her house nearby told me I should call 911 but I was too shaken to do that.  She did and the police soon arrived.  The good news is no one was hurt and both cars seemed drivable.  I called Bob and he said he’d be come right away.  The police were helpful, telling me what I needed to do, what documents I needed to take a photo of and making sure everything was in order before they left the scene.  They were very calm, very reassuring.   One of the officers spoke Spanish and so the other guy was brought into the exchange.   They didn’t make a report. These days they leave the sorting out to the insurance companies.  I remember one of the officers telling me to call my insurance agent, “that’s why you have insurance,” he said..  The other guy had no driver’s license with him and his insurance was expired so I hoped all would be all right.  I wish I could say my thinking was clear, but I think I was too shaken by the crash.  After the police left,  Bob arrived.  When we tried to get the truck going, we noticed the heavy metal bumper had been bent onto to the tire.  In my hurry to run to the scene of the accident, I hadn’t noticed that.   Two Hispanic workers who were parked in front of the truck came over to help us.  They said they heard the crash.  One pulled out a crowbar from his truck and tried to bend the bumper away from the tire.  Then another guy came with a shovel and a long board to get more leverage to make the bend.  They were so helpful, good Samaritan’s, angels in the place of need.  Eventually the  metal bumper moved away from the tire and we could drive the truck away.  Bob decided we should go to Home Depot and get the tree which we did.  The tree is beautiful.  As I sit here, my stomach has stopped hurting but I still feel very vulnerable.  I think about the injuries that could have happened.  At my age, something like this will be ascribed to me being old but the accident wasn’t my fault.  And now I must decide how I want to think about this.  Do I give energy to me feeling guilty for crashing Bob’s truck?  Or do I think how happy I am that no one was hurt and that these lovely good Samaritan’s

came and helped us out without us even asking?  I choose the latter.

True Thanksgiving Thankfulness

We were invited to my long-time friend Sharona’s house for Thanksgiving this year.  We have been looking forward to it for weeks.  She truly puts on a feast for her extended family and assorted friends.  We were to be 30 for dinner!  When we arrived, her house was dominated by very long table running the length of her dining room and living room, reminiscent of a long ago banquet table.  It was set beautifully, with candles, art pieces (handblown glass pears and Sharona’s stained glass pears and hot pads), handblown green glasses, tablecloth and cloth napkins folded fancily with colorful dried pressed autumn leaves as place cards with our names written on them.  Who, but Sharona, has dishes and glasses and cutlery for 30?  Needless I was very impressed.  Sharona has one of the biggest most generous hearts of anybody I know.  But what impressed me more than the table was how she orchestrated cooking the dinner.  It included 2 turkeys and a big boned leg of lamb, plus yams, spinach, roasted potatoes, huge plates of green beans, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mushroom gravy and assorted other dishes the guests brought.  I brought a salad for 15.  I learned she has a small notebook with a plan of the order in which things are cooked and she starts days ahead.   She has a small kitchen with just one oven.  It is an amazing feat of organizational talent and hard work.  As time approached for dinner, she came and recruited 3 guys to carve the meat.  Bob began carving the leg of lamb.  I don’t know exactly how long it took to do that, but about 10 minutes later, I came back to see how he was doing and found him sitting in the corner looking not all right.  He was bent over, profusely sweating and couldn’t form words or respond to my questions.  What had happened?  Sharona called 911 and that set in motion a system into which he had now been placed.  One of the guests was a doctor, another was a nurse and they soon found their way to him and decided he should lie flat as possible.  With assistance, he walked to a reclining chair and seemed better, more like himself, nevertheless the Paramedics arrived.  He walked outside unassisted and was soon strapped onto a gurney.  As I went in the house to collect our things, everyone was seated as the table and I heard Sharona introducing the meal.  There were people from nine decades of life, from two to over eighty, at the table.  There were people from many different professions and many different origins.  The diversity pleased her immensely.  I was sad I couldn’t click my glass and get everyone to lift their glasses in a toast to Sharona in gratitude and thanks. (She would have hated that.)  I left and went to meet Bob at the ER.  It was shocking to be there sitting alone on the green chairs in the very cold empty waiting room.  When I found Bob

in his cubicle, he seemed himself.  Tests were done, a CT scan of his brain, blood work, an EKG and all came out normal.  After 2 1/2 hours, he was released and I was seriously grateful for his clean bill of health.  You see at the same age, 79, his father had a stroke from which he never really recovered.  We don’t know what caused his syncope (new word we learned for fainting in the ER) but my suspicion is that it was heat stroke.  Bob’s health, the good health both of us enjoy, is something to be really thankful for and not just on Thanksgiving, but every day.

Truth is Beauty at Burning Man

Bob has been talking for weeks about going to the Oakland Museum to see the Burning Man exhibit there.  Today after lunch we took BART down to the Lake Merritt Station and walked 3 minutes to the Oakland Museum to see it.  We got in free with our UCBot. Garden membership (I got the highest level membership this year and it gets us in free to all sorts of local museums and Botanical Garden across the country).  I had the impression that Burning Man was an excuse for a wild hippie-like camp where anything goes, like in the 60’s—drugs, sex, nudity and all manner of excesses.  It seemed too wild for me.  The exhibit showed a much higher minded event.  It started with a display of their 10 idealistic principles.  The museum played Burning Man as a counter-cultural week where a fabulous city is created out in the middle of the Nevada desert in August, where great art is made, where people give each other presents, where people interact intentionally in open and friendly ways.  People are free to be, indeed encouraged to show, who they really are (that of course is the ultimate philosophical question in life , who are we?).  The exhibit had only two galleries.  What I enjoyed most were the time lapse photography movies shown on huge screens on the wall.  I was totally taken by the huge metal statue of a young woman reaching up to the sky framed by a rainbow.  It was beautiful.  The random gongs gouging and the flashing lights in the dimly light gallery made me feel like my brain was assaulted after a while.   Later, in the outside display,  I saw the same statue of the young woman and the piece was almost as impressive as in the desert photos.  It was titled “Truth is Beauty.”  Also outside was a laser cut temple made out of sheets of plywood reminding me of those thick paper models you get at Christmas and can put together, but of course the temple was much bigger.  It had a Buddhist feeling about it.  What impressed me were the messages that had been written on the wood and on squares of plywood left out for people to write messages on.  They were all beautiful, loving wishes for the wellbeing of us all.  One after the other, the messages were positive statements.  I was blown away by the amount of love that was expressed there.  Maybe that is what Burning Man is really about.  This amazing goodness that can come out of ordinary people when the better angels of our nature are encouraged and released.  It gave me hope in what humans could do if we put our minds and hearts together to create something instead of fighting with each other to destroy things.  Maybe Burning Man is about experiencing that hope.

Christmas Cactus Memories

I have a floppy Christmas Cactus I cherish in my kitchen and it is blooming now.  Its blossoms are white.  I remember very clearly the morning I took a cutting from the white Christmas Cactus in the middle of Helen’s glass breakfast room table.  I’d never seen a white one before and I asked if I could take a cutting.  Helen said, of course, but she didn’t know if one could do such a thing as start a new plant from just a few leaves.  Helen was one of my dearest friends.  She was my mother’s age, but somehow we became fast friends soon after Bob took me over to meet she and Willis at their spacious old Spanish style home on Oakdale Street in Pasadena very close to CalTech where Bob was a graduate student.  Helen and Willis were the parents of one of Bob’s Yale roommates—Bill Stork.  The story she always told was around this time when Bob took over another young woman to meet her.  She said, “Where’s Julie” and picked up the hor’derves and took them out to the kitchen.  No special treats if it wasn’t Julie.  After we moved to back to California, I’d visit her fairly often, always sleeping up in Bill’s old bedroom over the Porte-cochere.  The mattress was old and thin but the sheets were always ironed.  Helen volunteered to have Bob’s and my rehearsal dinner at her house for Bob’s parents, since they were from out of town.  Over the years, I loved my visits, especially the breakfasts.  We always had the very same thing:  a pink grapefruit, carefully sectioned, a toasted English muffin and orange juice and coffee.  Looking at the white flower on the Christmas cactus reminds me so of Helen.  It was Helen who gave her granddaughter a little gift each day on her Advent calendar, an idea that I have carried forward, doing it for our four grandchildren.  It is

 a big job getting 80-90 little presents for their combined Advent calendars.  I always say I’m going to stop, and then I imagine how much fun it would be to open a special present every day for the whole month of December and I do it again.  Christmas is a time of many happy memories.  It gives me pleasure to relive old memories especially this time of year.

Applesauce

We’ve been picking and gathering apples from Arne’s apple tree for two months now.  The abundance is overwhelming.   Bob has picked the remaining apples and there are two big 5 gallon buckets full.  So I’ve been making applesauce.  It’s very forgiving.  It’s a good use for the multitudes of little apples, for the bruised apples and the disfigured ones.  This morning with my encouragement Bob undertook making a big pan of applesauce.  As is his way, he bought a new tool for the project—-an apple slicer.  He figured out a way to peel the apples faster, bending his wrist in funny ways, rather than moving the apple, then he’d pop the peeled apple on the cutting board and push the slicer through the apple.  His pan is by my counting the ninth one this season.  I’ve got five big container of applesauce in my freezer.  We’ve eaten many containers full and some “lucky” friends have received applesauce as a gift.  The abundance of harvest of our one apple tree awes me.  The harvest is shared with birds who peck holes in some apples, with some creature that sits every night on our steps by the garage and eats a half an apple.  I think it is a raccoon, because I imagine the critter sitting on its haunches holding the apple in its little hands munching away.  We certainly have enough to share!  Once again, I say, next year I’m going to seriously thin the new apples so all the trees energy goes into making fewer bigger apples.  In the meantime, we’ve got apples for at least two more big pots of applesauce and some left over for apple pies and apple cakes and apple galettes.  What a gift these apples are every year all from one sprouting apple seed the young Arne found eating an apple and then planted it.

Cal Women’s Volleyball

Our youngest son played volleyball in high school and college.  He loves it so much he has played in Amateur leagues ever since.  Interestingly, he loves to watch Women’s volleyball so he follows Cal and Stanford teams.  This week he decided it would be fun for Bob and me to go to see Cal Women’s Volleyball team play UCLA.  Cal is ranked nationally and even though it has a better record, UCLA is still of very good team.  So he got us tickets for the game at 2pm on Friday afternoon.  We handled the parking challenge well and had time to stop at the Musical Offering for a nostalgic latte before the game.  Entering the Haas Pavillion was a maze.  First, I had to check my purse (only bags as large as an index card were allowed in which pretty much excluded everything).  I filled my pockets with my valuables and keys.  We went through a security check and got in.  The Cal pep band was playing loudly and with spirit.  They were about 20 musicians all dressed in straw hats and blue vests covered with those buttons you get with mottos and advertising on them.  The sections danced together as they played.  Cal was just finishing its warm up.  After the National Anthem, the game began and UCLA immediately got ahead in the first set.  Cal never managed to capture the lead and lost the set by 10 points.  The playing was exciting, lots of spikes and digs and some long rallies.  The second game wasn’t any better for Cal, with UCLA dominating and winning easily.  Unfortunately one of the Cal star players was injured badly.  After a break, the 3rd set began and finally Cal began to play up to their potential, the game was tied, point by point, until at 24-24, UCLA went ahead and went on to win the match, 3-0.  After the match, the Cal team lined up and faced the band and the band sweetly serenaded them, maybe offering some consolation.  Bob spent much of the game measuring the sound with his IPhone.  He loves to measure things.  The sound was loud, very loud, peaking at 90 - 110 dBs when the band played or the  peppy recorded music was blasting out.  What surprised me was when it was very quiet, Bob still measured 50-60 dBs.  Now my ears are still ringing.  I wonder how many little hairs in my cochlea are newly bent over and frazzled?  It was so fun to do something totally out of our comfort zone.  On the walk to our car, Bob suggested we stop at Yogurt Park and have a frozen yogurt.  We were transported back to the 1980’s when our family used to go to. Yogurt Park after church.  Even though “our team” didn’t win, it was fun to go to a Cal sporting event and watch the exceptional Cal women athletes play

.

Aging as a Spiritual Practice

For the last six Monday afternoons from 4 to 5:30, I’ve been attending a group on the topic of Aging. We were loosely following the book, Aging as a Spiritual Practice, but since only a few of us read it, we didn’t follow it too closely.  With all the sharing about our views and experiences around our aging, we bonded.  I loved hearing other people’s outlook on our common experiences of having lived a lot of years.  By the last session, I told someone as we walked in, “It’s getting old, talking about getting old.”  But this last meeting was the most profound as we all spoke about what we think about life after death.  We all agreed that we don’t know what is going to happen and most of us were happy leaving it a mystery.  By chance, this week, I learned one of my favorite ministers had died.  He was a Swedenborgian and as such had firm and positive beliefs about life after death.  Swedenborg, who lived and died in the 18th century, explained a complex organization basically saying we ended up with those on the same level of spiritual energy.  I loved and trusted Forster, but I still don’t know about his beliefs.  I guess we all just have to wait our turn and then in a blink of an eye, in a single breath, we’ll know.  In the meantime, I know that I want to live the days I have left with joy and gratitude.

An Experience on BART

Several months ago, I got a whole lot of bug bites on my legs over days and weeks.  As I thought about where I could have picked them up, I think I brought them home from a trip on BART.  The   bugs settled into my living room chairs, I kept getting bites on my legs.  The bites looked very much like bedbug bites and in the end to get rid of the pests, we had to trash the living room chairs.  Today I saw how bedbugs and other parasites are spread on BART.  There was a nearly naked homeless man sleeping on the yellow seats set aside for elderly folks with his bare feet lying on another pair of seats.  He had a very dirty pillow and a dirty white sheet wrapped him.  As I looked at him, I felt a mixture of very uncomfortable feelings—-disgust, fear, horror, guilt.  At one point he sat up straight and called out “Does anyone have a dollar?”  He said it over and over.  I looked around at the faces of my fellow passengers, the faces were all stony, hard, not acknowledging his presence.  So he lay down again.  After he spoke, I realized I had not said a silent blessing for him.  So I did that and also blessed  the inner unlovable parts of each of us.  I wondered what I could possibly say to him?  I didn’t want to approach him.  No one did.  When I got off BART and walked to the Art Museum,  I didn’t see any homeless people, but the sidewalks reeked of urine.  Homelessness is such a big problem and has resisted all attempts over the years to solve it.  It seems only to be getting bigger and worse.  Whatever can we do?   I don’t like to live in a place where so many people don’t have anywhere to go.

Gun Violence Vigil

Friday at noon I attended a Gun Violence Vigil at the little church we’ve been attending.  I wanted to support the minister, whom I like very much.  People don’t generally come out for such events I learned years ago when I was a minister.  I emailed the friend I was meeting for lunch that day that I’d be attending the Vigil and could we meet afterwards at a nearby restaurant.  She said she’d like to attend the Vigil with me.  She’s not a church go-er and so I warned her with what I thought would happen.  She decide to come with me and that made three of us that showed up.  There was beautiful music playing as we came in to the back of the church (Bach Cello Suites with YoYo Ma playing) which set a lovely tone.  It was a very simple Vigil.  We listened to beautiful music, heard several interfaith readings and then the minister read the names of cities where a mass shooting had occurred just in the month of October.  A mass shooting is defined by 4 or more people dying.  Friday morning I learned there had been a mass shooting in Orinda, CA, a town no more than 3 or 4 miles from us on Thursday, Halloween night.  I was shocked it happened so close.  The list the minister read went on and on.  I found my eyes filled with tears to hear and realize how common these senseless mass murders are.  There were 28 cities named and that doesn’t even count the homicides or suicides that happen by gunshot.  That means there is a mass shooting nearly every day here in America.  We sat in silence when he ended,  giving us time to reflect on what we heard and then spoke about this.  The thing is, the Vigil is great to raise awareness but what needs to happen is action.  Humans are a violent species and the easy access in America to guns increases gun violence.  Surveys show that the majority of Americans, including many gun owners, want laws to restrict access to assault weapons and want background checks, but nothing ever happens.  Why is the NRA so very powerful and why is Congress (especially the Senate) so impotent?  Why do we allow our children to play violent video games and watch violence on TV and in the movies?  In Europe they rate movies by the amount of violence in them so people know before they go to the movie.  I want something to change in our culture and country.  I want gun violence to stop.  Everybody does, but no one knows how to stop it.

Dropping Facebook

I have decided to drop my Facebook account.  After Mark Zuckerberg’s recent testimony to a House Committee, where he waffled and used the First Amendment free speech argument to justify leaving up false Republican political ads, I have come to the conclusion Facebook is evil and I want no part of it.  It is bad for the world.  It is bad for America.!  They have decided to value money and power over truth.  The NYTimes this morning said that half of Americans get their news from Facebook.  Twitter to their credit has said it will eliminate all political ads from their feed which hopefully will eliminate the disinformation put there.  I wonder what they will do with all of Trump’s lying tweets?  I think most Americans still think if something is in print or on-line that it is true.  But it’s not so anymore.  The Mueller Report found that the Russians aided Trump in the 2016 elections by putting their vicious lies on social media.  There were many lies about Hillary on Facebook put on by the Russians and many people believed them as true.  Truth seems to be up for grabs.  Americans have divided into tribes depending on what news source they see and believe.  Fox News has achieved huge power and influence by promoting lies and half truths.  There are no “alternative facts” as KellyAnne Conway claims.  Lies are propaganda and propaganda brain washes people into believing what is not true.  Hitler and all dictators use propaganda to control their subjects.   In the past, we all knew that politicians probably exaggerated their claims, but few of them outright lied.  Trump changed that.  He has changed America and as Thomas Friedman claimed in a recent Op Ed piece in the NYTimes, the America he loves is in grave danger of breaking.  He said Americans are conditioned to believe their news source is telling the truth.  When some news sources tell lies and half truths, because it comes from a news source they are believed.  Never has it been more important to think clearly and hunt out truth.  I don’t know what the Republican Party and Republican Congressmen are thinking these days?  Maybe they are only concerned with keeping or regaining their power.  How have they lost their way so completely.  Trump is an wanttabe dictator leading American rapidly down a path of self-destruction.  My small my response today is to drop my Facebook Account!  I want no part of such a company!

Wildfires

There’s another wildfire here in N. California, up North in Sonoma County.  It burned through 10,000 acres within hours of igniting yesterday and is only 5% contained this morning.  Apparently it was started by a live power line falling to the ground and sparking.  The story I heard at my book group last night is that PG&E held back for 45 minutes in turning the power off in that area and it seems they made a bad choice.  Currently here, the air is very dry.  I noticed the pages of the newspaper curled up, dried out to a crispy state with the low humidity rather like paper does on an airplane.  I feel a sense of impending doom, like a kettle drum beating slowly as the next power outage in our area is predicted for Sunday, two days from now.  Accompanying the dry conditions, there are very strong off-shore Santa Ana winds predicted, up to 80 mph, dangerous fire conditions.  We won’t suffer in the predicted power outage because after the one several weeks ago, Bob decided to look into getting a portable generator.  He got one at Home Depot, a dual model that runs on gasoline or propane and he’s wired it into our house, so we can produce the power we need to keep the lights on and most things running.  Now he’s got it in his head to go buy a sprinkler for our roof.  I feel especially sad for a young woman, daughter of a long time colleague of Bob’s, who’s wedding is planned for Sunday at the Cal Men’s Faculty Club.  I’m sure she had to reserve the site several years ago and has everything planned in great detail.  But there’s no way to plan for this possible weather calamity.   We are all now living with the effects of years of drought that have dried out the overgrown forests in the state.  I remember a Professor of Ecology from my days at CalStateLA in the 1960’s who loudly protested the lack thinning the forests.  He favored cutting trees and controlled burns, 50 years ago.  And of course, none of what he proposed was done.  We are now suffering the consequences with the extensive wildfires in California these last years.  PG&E hasn’t trimmed the trees along it’s many miles of power lines for years and now it is an impossible task.  The utility is between a rock and a hard place trying to prevent possible wildfires with the draconian power shut-offs that hurt the poor and infirm more than anyone.  I fear what is to come and that this is just a foretaste of the effects of climate change here in California.  What is wrong with our political system that we as a country aren’t facing our responsibility to act and change our ways?

Educating Nature Lovers

One of the joys of my life is being a docent at the Botanical Garden, especially on days like today.  I’d pay money to have the chance to lead such a group and have a wonderful tour like I did today.  One of my long time “life goals” has been to be a naturalist.  I want to be able to have a story or at least something to say about anything I see in Nature.  Today, I felt like I’ve made progress on that goal.  The tour was Water Ecology and the students were 5th graders at St. Leo’s Catholic School in Oakland.  They were all neatly dressed in uniforms and all students of color.  I can’t recall a group that was more curious and attentive than this group was.  They were all great observers, seeing tiny tiny water striders in the shady creek and spotting a rare newt this time of year in the Japanese Pond. They remarked on the bird calls and loved learning a few calls (like chick-a-dee, chick-a-dee, chick-a-dee-dee-dee).  They loved seeing the liverworts and learning about their ancient ancestors..  At the Water Feature (two rather small concrete pools with a pump to show water plants), they were given nets and allowed to try to catch anything they could find.  There were slim pickings because of the time of year.  No tadpoles, no insect larvae, yet several of them knew to hunt by the plants and found thread like 1/2 inch long damsel fly larvae and several insect egg masses waiting for the Spring to hatch.  It is a great joy for me to be able to share my love of the natural world with children.  It is especially important for them to be exposed to Nature and to learn to love and care for it.

PGE Power Shut Down

In the airport yesterday waiting for our plane from Detroit to San Francisco, I got several disturbing emails from PGE, our power company in N. California, saying due to extremely dangerous weather conditions they were going to shut down our power for from 1 to 5 days.  This was puzzling, since my Weather Ap told that Berkeley’s weather was nearly a perfect high 60’s with sunny skies, no wind for all week.  When we got home we were inundated with texts, phone calls, emails from the county, PGE, the city and our neighborhood association all telling us to be prepared for from 1-6 days with food and water “if we choose to stay.”  There’s no where for us to go.  Bob called his brother up in Auburn, and they too have power outages to come.  I began to feel very stressed.  We had no food in the house, the traffic seemed terrible on our way home and I froze in fear of what might come.  I still can’t imagine having no electricity and no water for 6 days.  PGE, the power company, has resorted to this drastic measure because it has been sued for being the cause of last year’s and the year before wildfires.  In high winds, the power lines can fall to the ground sparking a fire.  So now, I wonder if this is the first of many to come shut downs.  I wonder if our future here is not so secure.  I wonder if we will have to cut down our oak tree and Arne’s apple tree because they are so close to our house.  The outages are very wide spread, supposedly affecting 800,000 people in the state.   Probably more people than that are affected as that is the number of businesses and households affected.  So this morning early, Bob and I went out to get food.  The market seemed very normal.  It wasn’t crowded, in fact nearly empty.   No one seemed stressed.  I was reassured and feel better now at least we have some cans of chili to open.  I cooked rice.  I baked a loaf of pumpkin bread.  I swept the porch.  I feel like the spiders that come out in autumn spinning their huge webs and waiting.

The power is scheduled to go off in an hour.  I have no idea how this will be.  Quiet, I guess.  We probably won’t feel the affects until after dark.  They tell us not to burn candles.  What is our world coming to?

The Last Days

Today was another perfect fall day—-clear blue sky, puffy white clouds and temperatures in the 60’s.  The color green still dominates most every view.  Every house has a green lawn and big old green trees line the streets.  Just a few of the trees have started to turn a little yellow, orange and red on the tops and the ends of branches, like colorful frosting.  Here, life with the kids moves fast except when it doesn’t and then it is very very slow.  Here, I realize that the important things are little things.  For example, I walked into the computer room this afternoon with my arms wide open to hug Erika and received the longest sweetest hug I can imagine.  Our living room floor has a Brio train village set up right in the middle of it made the other day by Sonja who sang to herself as she perfected the three interlocking circles of track.  I don’t want to break it up and put it away.  I still hear the echo of her happy song.  Tonight (and every night) dinner is at 5 or 5:30 because the girls are hungry and have to leave for tennis lessons or piano lessons scheduled right at dinner hour.  Yesterday, the whole family ran/walked the “Dino Dash” a 5 k race on the MSU campus.  The race began at the MSU Natural History Museum where all the dinosaur skeletons are kept, hence the name.  It was another beautiful day.  As we set off, Paula, Erika and Sonja were at the front of the crowd, while Paul, Bob and I placed ourselves toward the back.  As we started, I felt the crush of the crowd and jogged ahead to find a space to walk fast.  I walked as fast as I could the whole time.  The route through the campus was very beautiful.  The wide green lawns with majestic old trees and red brick buildings were like eye candy.  I had to keep reminding myself to enjoy the views.  I fell in walking with a pack of coeds and listened to their incessant prattle for 10 minutes until I got tired of them and jogged ahead a bit.  I’ve discovered jogging isn’t so bad and it moves one along a whole lot faster.  I finished in 48 minutes which was good for me.  Sonja found me and took me to the others.  She had beaten her time the previous weekend and placed 2nd in her age group.  I asked how she knew that and she told me to go over to a tent on the left of the building where one could look up one’s time and ranking.  I couldn’t believe that I placed first in my age group of the walkers (well, there were only 2 of us my age walking).  I was thrilled to choose a Dino Dash water bottle as my prize.  Sonja and I got our picture taken, each of us proudly holding our water bottles.  After we all gathered we went into the Museum and Paula directed us to a gallery devoted to healing the wounds after the Larry Nasser scandal.  They had many signs telling the story of how long the abuses had been going on, all the times the victims tried to tell and get help.  They didn’t hold back anything.  I learned teal is the color of healing and that teal ribbons had been placed all around campus on the trees.  I’m glad they acknowledge the egregious damage that was done to so many young women at MSU.  Erika didn’t want to talk about it.  I guess she’s heard plenty at school.

Finishing up our time here, I reflect on all the special times we had with the family—-the runs, the dinners every night, the games played sitting on the floor, the football games and more.  I’ve done all my favorite things, been my favorite places.  Bob and I had several lovely walks in the forests around here and been to several good movies.  Bob has kept himself very busy building little projects in his increasingly well stocked workshop.  I’ve been painting a simple watercolor of an object each day.  It has been another wonderful visit, memories made by all, I hope that will warm our hearts in future times.

It’s That Time of Year

Friday night in the neighborhood here was eventful.  We were invited to a neighborhood “tailgating” party to see the High School Homecoming Parade.  Before going, dinner preparations were underway when I went over to Paul’s house.  Erika was pulling leaves off the woody harvested basil plants.  “It’s that time of year,” Paula said.  When the food processor was full of leaves, then a big cup of grated Parmesan  and a big cup full of walnuts were thrown in.  Erika pushed the button while Paula poured in the olive oil.  Erika said, “I’m Miss Pesto.  I just love pesto.”  The green richly fragrant masterpiece was served with pasta and homemade tomato soup.  We ate quickly as we didn’t want to miss the parade and then rushed off to their friend’s house.  The lawn was set up with chairs and on the front porch there were seven stacked pizza boxes, plus a big container of vegetables.  We didn’t know it was for dinner.  It was chilly, getting cold by the minute.  The leaves are just beginning to turn here.  The day length gets noticeably shorter each day.  Fall is seriously here.  Finally the parade arrived lead by a police van with all the lights flashing!  Then the E. Lansing High School marching band in full uniform, at least 70 members strong.  They were lead by a big flag squad of girls in uniform waving big blue flags.  The band played on as they marched by and everyone cheered!  The moms took videos, telling me proudly of their child participating.  Marching Bands are a big deal here in the Midwest.  Next came the fire engines with kids sitting atop the ladders waving.  Then the fancy cars each carrying a “Homecoming Couple.”  They don’t elect a king and queen anymore, they just have many many couples.  That way no one feels left out, I guess.  All the participants threw candy at the crowd and the children loved it!  I even got a pocketful of candy!!  After the last group passed, the party broke up.  Paul, Sonja and I joined by the host and his daughter, Sonja’s friend, went to the High School football game, just down at the end of the street.  Anyone over 62 gets in free.  I loved sitting in the stands, among the parents of band members and football players.  The band and football team probably make up15-20 percent of the high school students.  It’s a big deal here.  It starting getting colder but I didn’t feel so cold.  I think I was numb.  We left at half time after the band show and as soon as I got home, I took a hot bath, just to warm up.  Just another Friday night in E. Lansing.  Sadly E. Lansing lost the game 21-14.

The Autumn Classic

Saturday afternoon, we learned that Paula had signed us up for the Autumn Classic Sunday morning, a run/walk race to raise money for the Special Olympics of Michigan.  We were signed up for the 8k (5 mile) part.  We got a lovely denim blue sweatshirt and a 5” x 4” orange bib with a number on it and chip in it to pin on our shirts.  We could walk or run or if we wanted choose to walk/run for 2 miles.  Paula told us, “They’re not picky.”  We had to get up early and be ready to go by 7:15.  We got to the Lake Lansing North where the race was before 8 AM and were surprised hardly anybody was there.  We were an hour early!  So we kibitzed, had a coffee and watched everyone come.  I decided I would power walk the 2 miles, thinking it would take me as long to walk 2 miles as it would take Paula and Sonja to run the 8k.  And besides I wanted to make it to church by 10 AM.  Before the race began, there were speeches and a show by the MSU Pep Squad.  Bobby Crim, the former Michigan legislator, who first organized this race for the Special Olympics 27 years ago was there and gave a speech.  He is 88 years old now and still walking the race.  When I told him how he inspired me, he told me “to just keep moving.”   A trumpeter went up to the stage and played the Star Spangled Banner while we all stood solemnly at attention.  Then the kids races began, first 100 yard dash, then 1/2 mile.  The kids were all very cute to watch.  Some must have been only 2 years old.  They all tried so hard.  The MSU pep squad was there to cheer waving their green and white Pom poms as everybody finished.  Every kid that ran got a medal.  It was well done.  Finally the “big” race was ready to begin.  The fastest 8k runners were told to get in the front (Sonja and Paula went to the front), then the 8k walkers and finally the 2 mile walkers.  Paul, Bob, Erika and I were in the last group.  As we started, I got charged up and began to walk as fast as I could, passing lots of people.  After 1/2 mile Erika came to walk with me and we walked fast.  I was just under the pace where I’d begin to get out of breath.  We turned around at the 1 mile mark and power walked back.  Hardly anybody passed us.  Erika and I finished in 32 minutes, coming to the finish line with the first wave of 8k runners.  Because I was registered for the 8k, unintentionally my time walking the shorter distance registered for the longer race.  For a time, I was listed as the Grand Master, but Paul and Paula set the score keepers straight.  Sonja ran her personal best: 38 minutes for 5 miles run.  I am so impressed by her strength, endurance, speed and attitude.  At 10, she came in 2nd in the Under 14s.  I love it that Paula signed us up for this.  It was fun, healthy family activity and something I’d never do without her.  Next Sunday is the 5k Dinosaur Dash on the MSU campus.  I’m already training for it!!!

MSU 40 - University of Indiana 31

Paula got us all tickets for the MSU Homecoming Game.  We set off after lunch, walking past student parties on the lawns of rental houses to campus.  We were aiming for the tailgating party at the College of Arts and Letters.  We got to the appointed location and saw only one small group of about 8 people.  Where was the party?  We went over and asked the folks there and they had no idea.  These folks win the “nice Michigander” prize.  They invited us to join them, insisted Bob have a beer and chatted with us as Paula tried to figure out where the party was.  Let me describe their set-up.  They had three tables set up cover with food and drinks.  They were from Dearborn.  One man was particularly friendly:  he met his wife at MSU, they were married in the Chapel, their three sons attended MSU.  They come to tailgate with their son who currently is a student at MSU.  He said they never go to the football game, they just come to party.  He had the neatest (and only) portable propane pizza oven I’ve ever seen.  “It goes up to 600 degrees” he proudly told us.  Paul arrived and looked at Paula’s invitation to the party and noticed it happened on Friday.  I think it worked out wonderfully.  I loved meeting this friendly family from Dearborn.  We left them and walked on towards the Stadium through throngs of tailgating parties, some set up with big flat screen TVs and lounge chairs.  All with beer.  Once in our seats, the action began on the field.  The Marching Band was out on the field doing what they do best — march around with amazing precision.   Soon they formed two lines on either side of the entrance.  With flames of fire shooting up and clouds of smoke and dramatic music, out ran the super-sized mascot, Sparty, followed by the team dressed in their green and white uniforms.  Everyone was standing and cheering.  It was very exciting.  After all the folderol was over the opposition team just walked out with no notice.  The band played the National Anthem and then we all sat down and waited for kick-off.  Once the game began there was plenty of action to watch on the field and on the sidelines.  The noise in the stadium, with 71,048 attendees, was very loud.  I loved hearing the band which was sitting right on our right and watching the students do hand motions cheering all in unison.  At halftime , the biggest marching band took to the field when all the alumni band members joined the current ones just for this Homecoming game.  There were more than 1200 in this biggest ever band.  I loved watching the baton twirlers juggling three twirling batons and seeing the frisbee dog leap high in the air to catch the frisbees.  The second half was exciting football.  MSU won the game in the last seconds with a field goal and then a touchdown on a fumble.  People in Michigan love MSU football through and through and we all enjoyed our game day total experience.

Basketry in Michigan

Sunday at church, I was introduced to a lovely lady named Marguerite.  Chatting with her, I learned she made baskets.  I’ve been interested in baskets for years and collected them until we moved to California, where I had no place to put any more.  I’ve even made a basket or two.  I guess because I was interested, she invited me over to see her baskets.  This afternoon I went to her house, only a 5 minute drive from where we live, to see her baskets.  I was surprised and overwhelmed with her many many baskets, mostly made by her.  She showed them all to me, one by one, and told me what materials she used and little stories about many of them.  I’ve never seen so many different kinds of baskets.  She said, “You can make a basket out of anything.”  And she had.  Aside from expected natural materials like pine needles and split canes of different woods, there were surprising materials, like a basket made of palm and philodendron leaves and others made of gourds.  There was even a basket made of different colored telephone wires, several crocheted out of thin copper wire and still others woven out of water colored paper strips and some made with colored waxed threads, silk or linen.  All the baskets were so very beautiful.  I especially liked the ones made of natural materials.  Her work is very fine and all perfect.  She is a true artist!  I also learned about basketry in Michigan.  For a time, in the 1990’s, there were more basket makers here than in any other state.  The basketry conventions here had more than a thousand people attending.  There used to be two stores carrying basketry supplies in E. Lansing and there was a big and very active guild.  Now it seems to have all died back.  She was so very kind and generous.  She even gave me a small pine needle basket she had made.  It is interesting to learn someone’s story and see what they love to do.  I am awed by this generous basketry

artist from Edgewood Church in E. Lansing.

Birding at Woldumar

This morning Bob and I went to one of our favorite places, Woldumar, to go birding.  Bob wanted to use his new spotting scope.  Woldumar is a local Nature Center in nearby Lansing.  In the mid-60’s, Gladys Olds Anderson (daughter of the automotive pioneer and maker of Oldsmobiles) donated half of her dairy farm (180 acres) to a Conservation Education Group.  Today, there are 5 miles of trails through forests and prairie and riparian habitats and it’s a good place to look for a variety of birds.  Since arriving in Michigan, we’ve been struck by the lack of birds, so we hoped we’d find some at Woldumar.  The grass was wet with dew as we walked out into the autumnal prairie where native grasses were tall and there was lots of goldenrod and asters.  The bright sun made the morning air warm, but it was silent.  Bob’s first spotting was a Monarch butterfly on a blue aster.  He made a great first photo digi-scoping.  There hasn’t been much rain here this summer and the pond was a mud puddle.  We headed down a forested lane toward the river when we heard a bird party.  We heard, then spotted a group of American robins, their rusty breasts pretty in the morning light.  My favorite bird was a red-headed woodpecker who had, like it’s name suggests, a very red head and no markings on it’s black and white body.  Down by the Grand River, we spotted a Great Blue Heron and watched it fishing quite successfully from it’s perch on a fallen tree in the river.  The forest floor was rich with mushrooms and once I’d spotted one, I began to see them everywhere.  The musty forest smelled like mushrooms cooking.  I began to think about creatures living in a 3 dimensional world - like birds do, flying up and down and all around and fungus too in the soil.  It seems so restricted to just be able to walk on the surface of the earth.  It was a pleasant morning spent at Woldumar, spotting birds and studying Nature here in Michigan.

Climate March

Greta Thunberg, the 16 year old Swedish environmentalist, impresses the pants off me.  Her passion, clarity of message and urgent call to all the school children (and adults) on earth to protest the lack of the adult response to the Climate Crisis all ring totally true.  She tells it like it is and I think her urgency is not misplaced.  The nations, especially the US, have got to get policies in place to reduce our CO2 output.  I’ve begun to think about the CO2 cost of my driving, flying or       eating meat and cheese.  I am trying to lower my Carbon footprint.  Changing our collective ways will be hard but the consequences of not doing anything will be harder to bear.  I’m proud the State of California is doing so much and mad as I can be that the Trump administration is trying to block our low car emission standards!  I felt hopeful when I heard about all the creative solutions being invented and applied in California at a recent talk at church.  But the earth is already changing and the climate is warming faster than predicted.  The temperature of the earth has already risen enough to melt the glaciers and raise the temperature of the sea enough to massively harm coral reefs.  This week a study came out in Science magazine reporting a 30% drop in the number of birds in Canada and US over the last 50 years.  Who knows how many fewer insects and amphibians there are?  It’s all hooked together and plant species too are going extinct at a rapid rate.  Now Environmental Grief is recognized.  Because of all this, I was especially proud and excited that our oldest granddaughter was cutting school on Friday to march in the local Lansing Student March against Climate Change.  She has always been articulate and has always stood up for doing the right thing.  Here was another example.  But when I asked her, she just shrugged and said “It was ok.”  But she did share her photos with me when I asked.  I love it that she stopped and took a photo of a dragon fly on a cardboard sign.  That’s what it’s all about, Nature.  There were only 300 or 400 students plus parents there and it sounded low key.  They marched a few blocks by the Capitol and then heard a few speeches.  It wasn’t like the tens of thousands in Australia or Berlin or even New York.  Nevertheless, I think it is wonderful that she chose to go and make her statement.  It would have been fun to have taken the passionate Elsa to a local march in her town.

The Apple Tree

“The apples are ready on the apple tree,” I told Arne this week.  “Can you bring the kids over to pick them?”   We agreed they’d come on Sunday, but Elsa wanted to come sooner, so they came on Saturday afternoon.  At once, Elsa and Liam were up in the tree picking apples.  They love to climb the tree and I think look forward to picking the apples.  This is the first year I’ve seen them cooperate as they worked.  They handed apples down to each other (and me) and shared the higher branches taking turns to go up there.  I thought it was great they did that by themselves.  They picked every apple they could reach and soon the piles in the bucket and the big shopping bag grew.  It make me very happy that the kids love to come and pick the apples each year.  After a good half hour, they had enough and looked around for other things to do.  Liam got us all to play a game that is his current favorite.  Arne made delicious guacamole for us to eat.  Elsa wanted to make something with some of the apples.  There wasn’t enough time to make an apple pie or an apple cake, so we decided to make cooked apples.  We sautéed the apples in butter with brown sugar and cinnamon.  It made a great dessert with ice cream.  In the preparation process, it was fun to have them peel the apples while I chopped the apples into slices.  There was lots of negotiation over who got to use the better apple peeler.  Again they shared without any direction to do so.  I was impressed.  Elsa was diligent stirring the apples and it reminded me of when I used to cook with my mother.  Each time I am with them I learn something more about them that I didn’t know.  This time Elsa blew me away with her observations of different insects in her school yard in Palo Alto.  She told me that there are lots of dragon flies this time of year and she described their colors and sizes and how they zipped around.  Earlier the late Spring there are butterflies, lots of butterflies all around.  And in the summer there are bees.  I asked her why that could be that she noticed different insects at different times and we considered some reasons.  She said the bees come when there are flowers in the yard and the grass.  I love to learn about her observations and interact with her about nature.  Liam loves nature too and is very interested and a good observer.  How much fun it is to have them visit.  I am so grateful to be able to know them and have them know who I am.