Autumn in E. Lansing

 Bob and I travelled to E. Lansing on Wednesday for our traditional visit in the Autumn.  Everything went very smoothly and our worries turned out to be for naught.  Nevertheless, it took us an entire day to get here.  With the three hour time change, we arrived about 10:30 pm and first thing rushed over to Paul and Paula’s house to see whomever was still up.  Erika was and how great it was to see her.  I think she’s a bit taller and now that she has short hair, like Paula, the resemblance to her mom is striking.  It was fun to see her recently redecorated room with a cozy corner for crocheting.  She’s making squares for an afghan.  Best was the long hug!  Bob presented Paula with the bright orange metal pumpkin he made for her from a recycled refrigerant can.  She loved it!  We didn’t stay long because it was so late.  Back at 420, the green house, there were flowers and all manner of gourmet food for our breakfasts and lunches.  It was midnight before we went to bed, but I was wired and was lucky to get any sleep at all.  The next day was cold, with a whisper of snow flurries when I drove to the library.  I love the E. Lansing library!  I found the book club read I was hoping I’d find there.  

Paul came over to chat before dinner, always a pleasure here.  Paula made a wonderful gourmet dinner for us.  Sonja was off at tennis class, so we hadn’t yet seen her.

Today dawned with beautiful a bright orange and pink sunrise, harking a warm front and warmer weather for the next three or four days.  Bob and I went to MAC (the gym) where he was just in time to be a fourth in open play pickle ball (level 3.5!).  I walked 3+ miles on the track.  Returning, I made pumpkin bread so the house would smell good.  Our neighbor called to welcome us back and told us about a new lovely Garden he’d discovered on the MSU campus.  So after a leisurely lunch (still using Paula’s wonderful food supply), we found our way to it.  It is beside the Radiology building.  It is called a Healing Garden and it has a curved walk with a pond full of bright red goldfish, with a brighter red maple tree beside it and a babbling brook alongside the walkway.  There were benches and beds of plants, all labeled.  It was a very peaceful place.  Tonight we’re going to the E.Lansing High School football to see Erika playing clarinet in the Marching Band.  I hope Sonja will come along because I still haven’t seen her.  We have a very busy fun weekend ahead of us and I’m so happy the weather will be good for all the activities.  It is very beautiful here with the yellow and orange trees in the forests and all the red maples planted in the neighborhood.  Houses, especially ours, are decorated for Halloween.  It’s such an exciting time here.

Simple Things

It’s Indigenous People’s Day here in Berkeley.  In San Francisco, it’s the Columbus Day holiday to celebrate all the big Italian population of the City..  For us, it was celebrated by Arne bringing Elsa to spend a good part of her day with us, her grandparents.  She met Bob at a Pickleball courts where she played with him.  It was the first time, she’d ever played and the two of them jumped right into the play and had a good time.  I spent the morning at the Botanical Garden.  They picked me up on their way home.  Elsa enjoyed the blueberry muffins I’d made for her.  After lunch, Elsa wanted to hit the volleyball.  I pitch the ball to her and she hits it back to me.  Thank goodness for reflexes, because the ball comes fast.  She wanted to go to a park so we did.  We drove to the Brazilian Room park not far from here and hit the ball back and forth for a good half hour.  Then we walked into the nearby Tilden Park Botanical Garden to check out their new alpine rock garden.  It is beautiful!!! 

Then Elsa plopped down on the grassy noll nearby and lay down on her back looking up to the sky.  I got down next to her and did the same thing on the cool damp grass.  We lay there side by side just enjoying the coolness, the peace and the quiet.  I remembered how used to love doing this when I was her age and it brings tears to my eyes to imagine having my grandmother getting down beside me.  She never did. We lay there a long time just dreaming and talking softly, moving into the shade as the sun hit us.  As the time approached to go back, we got up and walked through the cool shady forest area running through a big sprinkler.  It was beautiful to be there with my granddaughter sharing things that I love with her.  

Going to the Opera

 Sunday afternoon, Bob and I went to the San Francisco Opera performance of “Antony and Cleopatra’.  Our attendance was underwritten by our son Arne who gifted us with a big credit at the Opera.  Without this, we never would have gone.  Thank you, Arne!   I went on to the Opera’s website and picked out a couple of operas.  I chose Antony and Cleopatra because I thought it would be dramatic, but not knowing it was a World Premier by John Adams written in honor of the Centennial season at the Opera. Had I known, I would not have chosen this opera because I haven’t liked the John Adams works I’ve heard at the Symphony.  In fact, the only concert I’ve ever left at Intermission was one that featured compositions by John Adams.   

    I only learned the opera was by John Adams when I read the reviews.  Oh, the reviews were mostly grand.  Joshua Kosman, music critic at the SF Chronicle,  fell all over himself praising the performance.  He couldn’t say enough good things about it. I’d never seen him write such a positive review.  The NYTimes was more measured.  Nevertheless, the NYTimes gave a full page to an article about John Adams and his new opera.  It all seemed very exciting.

    So off we went to the Opera.  We rode into the City on BART.  I packed lunches for us to eat at the City Hall Park near the Opera House.  As we sat there in perfect weather looking at the beautiful City Hall and clear blue sky, munching our turkey sandwiches, we thought life is pretty darn good.  After taking appropriate selfies (for Arne), we arrived at the Opera House and were wowed by it’s elegance.  Gold leaf, thick red carpets, marble and the biggest chandelier I can remember seeing.  In the pre-opera talk, we learned the plot and a few interesting factoids whetting our appetite.  The libretto was taken from Shakespeare’s play of Antony and Cleopatra with a few additions from Plutarch.  

    In our Grand Tier seats, Bob sat wedged in, like in a vise.  The seats made tourist class on an airplane look positively spacious.  From the first notes, we knew we were in for something grand.  We loved the orchestration.  It was so evocative of the action and the emotions intensifying the drama on stage.  The 72 piece orchestra was outstanding, crisp, clear, playing wonderfully complex rhythmic music.  When Caesar was plotting his war, the music was militaristic.  When Antony and Cleopatra were together, the music approached melodic.  Very clearly, the music created the drama.  All the voices of the singers were first rate.  It wasn’t melodic or anything I’d want to just listen to.  What surprised and delighted us was the staging.  It was set in the 1930’s, no togas or elaborate queenly Egyptian gowns.  Rather suits and sleek 1930’s ball gowns.  The use of film clips shown on a black background (how did they do that?) was amazing.  There were film clips of Mussolini’s time with masses of people marching and old cars.  It was done in a most tasteful way, adding to the drama, not in any way detracting.  But my favorite of the staging was the multi-faceted black “curtains” of many sizes that opened and closed showing different windows of actions.  It was like one of those puzzles with numbers that you slide around trying to get the numbers in order.  In the end, Bob and I were riveted!  Breathless!  We loved it!!!  We were both rather surprised by our response to the opera.  Every part of it added to the whole making it much more than the sum of its parts.  Perhaps the most dramatic opera we’ve ever seen.  And by John Adams, who knew?  

A Visit from Arne and Elsa

 Whenever Elsa comes for a visit, I feel there are sparkles around.  They came this morning.  I was so happy she wanted to come visit us.  It’s a long car ride for her (and Arne).  We soon brought out the art table to the shade under Arne’s apple tree and began to do our art projects.  She had a small canvas and decided to do a sunflower.  I was impressed how she looked on line for images, then found one and copied lit with a pencil onto her canvas.  Then before I knew it, she’d painted the background and a ring of yellow petals.  In the meantime, I brought out cards for us to make.  So we began to create cards.  We cut out shapes from various papers I’d collected.  After her third one, which she spread glitter glue on, she decided it was time to spread glitter glue all over her hand to see if she could peel it off.  That girl is creative.  I kept busy making cards.  When that played out, we made lunch together and had a picnic outside on the patio.  Then we went for a walk in Tilden Park, to the swing on the big oak tree.  They left just when they needed to and I was so very grateful for a day with Arne and Elsa.  

Time

 It is good to pay attention to what is happening at this very moment.  Actually,, it is all we have.  But living in the present moment makes time a big puzzle to me.  In my perceptions, time is not linear like it is on a calendar or a watch.  Every year, back when I was teaching, the month of September seemed very long, as long as the whole rest of the year combined.  How could that be?  How could one month seem as long as eight months?   I don’t know.  I only know that this was how it seemed to me every year.   Perceptions aren’t real or are they?   Physicists say time is an illusion, yet I change and grow older each calendar year. If time is the same, how come I change?  How can that be?

Now in my retirement,  I am not as busy as I was when I worked.  Now I have the luxury to do what I want in my days.  I have the perception that each day is a long time.  There is spaciousness in each day.  Time to take a nap, if I feel like it.  I delight in slowing down and noticing nature, especially.  Just this morning I took a leisurely stroll in the Botanical Garden just enjoying the sights and sounds of nature.  I am very sensitive to the changes in light seasonally and am affected by it.  When angled light lands on my grandchildren’s heads, it makes them glow like they have a halo.  Maybe they do really have halos.  And yet, the weeks and months seem to speed by.  Long days and short months.  How can that be?  

It is now the season of autumn.  Yesterday was the autumnal equinox.  I notice the light is more angled, the days are getting shorter and shorter.  Today sunrise was at 6:57 AM.  Soon my Michigan granddaughters will the walking to school in the dark.  Back in Michigan, the trees are changing colors to beautiful reds, oranges and yellows.  In Michigan, the temperatures are cooling.  Here in California, September and October are our hottest months. All the land is very very dry and we fear wildfire.  The seasons change, one to another.  Over and over.  We call one cycle, a year.  Yet, as I look back and remember my years, they blur together.  It’s hard for me to realize that 2022 is almost over.  How can that be?

 I feel I am in the autumn season of my life.  I still have lots of vitality and warmth.  I still enjoy preaching and writing sermons.  I still enjoy working at the Botanical Garden, growing and nurturing plants to sell.  I still enjoy going on long walks with whomever will walk with me.  I still enjoy going out to lunch with friends.   I still enjoy life.  Yet, the mysterious thing called time seems to be moving along.  I know I am vulnerable.  I know I will die, but I just don’t know how or when.  The years I’ve been alive grow more and more and I get older and older.  How can that be?

So many questions.  And I thought I’d gain wisdom as I grew older.  

                

Making Cookies

Making cookies was a family tradition when I was growing up.  Today I made cookies and thought about all the cookies I have made.  My cookie section of my recipe box is stuffed full.  I remember as a young girl making lots of different kinds of cookies to make plates of fancy cookies to give away to my mother’s friends and our family at Christmastime.  I still treasure a collection of cookie cutters and cookie tins.  Later when my sister was old enough, she and I used to make cookies together.  I especially remember making rolled cut out sugar cookies with Tillie our beagle under our feet hoping for a morsel to drop on the floor.  She knew where the action was.  Our cookies were so beautiful and delicious.

I have enjoyed watching our granddaughters find pleasure in making cookies.  Early on, Erika and I would make cookies together.  I remember her climbing on the counters to reach the sugar that had to be hidden on the highest shelf, because she liked to take a spoon and eat sugar out of the bag of sugar.  As Sonja grew, she helped too, but it worked well, only when they each had a tray of rolled cookies to decorate.  Erika now makes the most beautifully decorated cookies, more beautiful than I ever made.  She likes to find recipes on-line and try them out.  I remember making chocolate chip cookies with Sonja for her to sell to the MSU college students partying in the neighborhood before football games.  She’d load up all the cookies in her little red wagon and go from yard to yard selling her cookies for $1 each.  Ever the entrepreneur, she’d make lots of money.  Elsa likes to experiment and makes her cookies without a recipe.  She takes all the ingredients she likes—-butter, brown sugar, cream, more butter, more brown sugar and I suppose flour—-and mixes them together.  She says they’re good.

Today I made chocolate chip cookies using my sister’s favorite recipe and my new cookie scooper (it’s like an ice cream scooper only smaller).  I make cookies with about 12 other people from church for a homeless shelter lunch.  We make 60 cookies, package them in special wax paper bags, folded over just so and deliver them to a coordinator.  I like to think it brings the recipients a small measure of joy to eat a homemade cookie, made with love.  

Cookies have a place in all of our hearts.  Cookies represent love to many of us.  I remember a member of the first church I served describing God as a woman who makes chocolate chip cookies.  He said whenever he smells cookies baking, he thinks of God.  So much love.  Cookies are more than just a mixture of yummy ingredients.  I like the idea of a cookie making gramma God.  

                            

Friendship

Last week I walked with a new friend..  We were both excited to get to know each other.  As we walked, in step together at a comfortable pace on the Fire Trail, we talked.  She talked about the various groups she’s a part of and how very nurturing and important they are to her.  I talked about some of my spiritual journey.  We seem to have so much in common, it is astounding.   I call her a friend not lightly.

We met several weeks ago as Bob and I were out for a walk.  We paused in front of her gate because I’d noticed it early in the pandemic and identified it as one  of the prettiest gates I’d seen.  After I took a photo of it, so beautiful with sunshine streaming through the open Japanese gate, we noticed a woman gardening.  She’d been hidden from view.  We began chatting and one thing led to another and pretty soon we were inside their yard looking at her garden.  Her husband appeared and Bob knew him from the Neighbor’s Block Party a couple of weeks before.  Soon the men disappeared inside his shop.  Ruth and I seemed to find one thing after another that we had in common.  We’re both on spiritual journeys.  We both walked a lot in the pandemic and took photos with our IPhones of things we found beautiful (mostly flowers for both of us).  We both love getting our hands in the dirt, in our own gardens and at places where we volunteer.  We both have offices full of books.  Twice now she’s brought us a bag of organic tomatoes from the organic farm where she volunteers.

I’ve been thinking about friendship recently.  It is such a gift.  My friend Sharona talks about concentric circles of friendship, from the close ones we see often, to others we might see once a quarter, to others we rarely see but still consider friends, to those people we see regularly and share a friendly word, at the gym or the pool or the garden.  I think of my bi-monthly phone calls with my dear friend Doris.  All are important because it is in our genes to have friends.  

Now my granddaughters are teenagers, friends have become extremely important to them.  So much so, we sometimes feel we’ve lost the closeness we had with them when they were younger.  But as I’ve thought about the girls, I see we have a very special place in their hearts.  I am thrilled when one of them texts me or I text them and they answer me.  Friendship is based on shared experiences and a common affection.  I am so very grateful for connection with friends from many different parts of my life.  Each friendship is a treasure, each of beautiful jewel.  And I am grateful to make a new friend at my age.