Metamorphosis

She...
changes...

everything...

she touches...

and...

everything...

she touches...

changes.

First Frost by the Waning Harvest Moon

The chill hit strong enough last night to cause our first frost of the season. Time to say goodbye to some fruits of summer; those delicate and thin skinned plants are withering in this morning's sun. Annuals, like basil, wouldn't haven't survived this first frost and we had been harvesting the seeds earlier this month and last weekend the final leaves became pesto.

Looking through the chilly morning haze at the waning crest of this year's harvest moon allowed me to reflect on all I have been lucky enough to reap. Our garden yielded a wonderful Spring of sugar snap peas, a moderate Summer of cherry tomatoes (many which had been stolen by the chipmunks) and a meager Autumn of pole beans. The Autumn harvest has been mainly saved to seed the hopes of next year.

By Samhain even many apples left on the trees will have sufficient frost bite that they will be too mushy for eating. There are just a few good harvest days left for much that is good and natural. The wheel will turn again and again and if the old plants do not return it is always exciting to see the new ones and what they bring.

Pesto Day

With temperatures threatening to dip below freezing it was time to harvest the basil. I made a vegan pesto that turned out really well.

All at Once

The leaves have changed all at once this year and the strong winds that visited the area have blown many of them off the trees before we have had a chance to enjoy them. Luckily we had a reason to drive through the Poconos the last couple of days to enjoy some of them. Photos never catch the exact glory of the colors but I always have to try.

After 6 grueling hours (3 stuck in traffic in NJ) we made it into NYC on Friday. It was just dark when we walked into the plaza at Lincoln Center and enjoyed the new fountain that was finally up and running. It was odd not going into the Met Opera House for the performance. We were to enjoy seeing the theater at Avery Fisher Hall for the first time.

Prior to the show, just hanging at the fountain with Asrai was on the the best times that evening. She knew how long we had been stuck in the car and was kind enough to walk to Whole Foods to get us some food. We sat on the marble edge of the fountain, slurped some of the best carrot ginger soup and caught up with what had been going on with her that week. It was so much more gratifying to hug her, talk to her and see her than our daily typing to each other online.

After the obligatory bag inspection, we took our seats in the back of the orchestra section to watch American Ballet Theatre's fall performances. First was a new work, Ratmansky's Seven Sonatas. I was immediately aware that the seats in this auditorium were terribly uncomfortable, set up one directly on back of the other and the man in front of me had a huge head. Asrai offered to switch with me a few times but there was no way I was going to let her be tortured with the head that covered the whole stage. I twisted to see the dancers and decided the piece just wasn't worth my time; I would save my energy for the last work in which Ravenboy had a solo.

It's hard to sit through three ballets without seeing much but a giant head. It's even more difficult when you have spent most of the day sitting in the car. I decided I was pretty much uninterested in ballet forever. The second and third pieces did grab more of my interest. Other Dances and Some Assembly Required had some entertaining movements that were far enough stage right that I could see them.

I could tell I needed a plan to see the final piece of the evening, Ben Millipied's Everything Doesn't Happen at Once. There were only a couple rows behind me and no one had been sitting in them. My plan was to sit on my feet and try to look over the giant head. After the intermission I got into place but almost instantly my feet started to lose circulation. It was a faulty plan because I still couldn't see over the giant head.

A couple of people had decided to sit behind me and I felt badly for them because I was not going to miss seeing my son in this performance. I bobbed and weaved and jumped around in my seat following his every move. I was no longer sitting still and was getting a workout to watch my son dart in and out of two dozen other dancers for most of the first movement.

I love seeing Ravenboy blend perfectly with the corp of dancers and thrill at actually losing him in the mix on stage. For so many years, as a talented boy dancer he was almost always featured or at least stood out as the only boy on stage. It was easy to find him and follow his every move. Now he is with the best of the best dancers in the world, men and women, and I have a hard time picking him out — it's glorious!

The piece progressed and the big head must have settled into a place where I could let some blood flow back into my feet for a brief moment. Ravenboy was not onstage for a one movement that was a duet so I prepared for the next. Ballets, even new modern works, have a formula and I could sense that after the slow duet would be the dynamic solo. Ravenboy would be next and I jockeyed for position in my seat.

The role was not made for Ravenboy but he made it his own. A curious highlight was when a large portion of the corp came onstage with some under current of the music and positioned themselves to catch him in mid flight out of the air! There he was, suspended feet off of the stage in a perfect split, caught in time like a photograph before they released him to dance freely again. Like the beauty of Autumnal colors, Ravenboy's performance made us thrill and gasp.

The final movement brought the entire cast to fill the small stage. As is typical for a coda, he duet couple recreated a few of their moments and the other movements were briefly remembered. Ravenboy took center stage one last time on a ramrod straight leg turned in pirouette one, two, three, four... All at once the lights were killed but in that brief moment when those tungsten filaments went from hot white to warm yellow to barley amber, Ravenboy turned on and on. No dropping curtain prepared or warned the audience; applause erupted and the house rose to its feet in cheers.

The rest of our evening was spent with Ravenboy and Asrai. Directly after the performance Ravenboy politely dodged autograph hounds, fans and donors. We got to the car and drove back to their place to remain happily holed up for hours of happy catching up.

It was late afternoon on Saturday when we found ourselves driving back through the Poconos. Our visit had been wonderful and brief; Autumn's splendor may be past peak but the memory of it's beauty will stay with me all winter.

ABT @ Avery Fisher Hall

This week, American Ballet Theatre brings three bold premieres center stage from three of today’s visionary choreographers: Benjamin Millepied, Aszure Barton and ABT’s Artist-in-Residence, Alexei Ratmansky. Plus, ABT offers repertory encores of two ballets from the Company’s vast repertoire: Clark Tippet’s Some Assembly Required and Jerome Robbins’ Other Dances. All performed with the dramatic artistry and thrilling bravura of ABT’s world-class dancers for one week only at Lincoln Center’s Avery Fisher Hall.

Tonight we will enjoy supporting Ravenboy (above, kneeling in center) in his solo role in Millepied's Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once. It is a very short run at Avery Fisher Hall and we feel fortunate that he was able to get us tickets.

The choreographers for the new works they are performing this week...

look a lot like another trio we have seen elsewhere.

Autumn Breeze

Maga11 and I got out in the wind for some local letterboxing yesterday. The couple of miles that we hiked and climbed included a historic home, creek side ramble, swamp view, and more than three vistas of central PA's rolling farmland in autumn.

The wind gusted more than 40 mph and was loud on the ridge top. We made our way along, enjoying the woodland and colorful leaves. Much of the trail had downed branches so our progress was not speedy. This allowed a lot of time for chatting and visiting. We talked about the couple of times this month she spent putting up hot peppers and how she was still coughing from the oils they had thrown into her sinuses and lungs.

We only saw three other people on the trail yesterday. One was a jogger who came upon us so quickly as we were stamping into one letterbox that we had no time to do anything but watch him run by. Who knows what he thought we were doing off trail.

Hickory nuts, puff balls and big old black walnuts also littered the path on our hike out and back. The walk was just wonderful as we took the descent slowly and carefully. We were glad to have parked well away from the black walnut tree in the parking area. It had been dropping its large heavy fruit the whole time we were hiking.

When all was done, we came away with three new letterboxes and a hitch hiker found. We celebrated with a pack of crackers before we went shopping at Wenger's. It easy enough to get carried away shopping in that store and best to not go in hungry.

How to Dance in the Rain

Thanks to DaBraLady for sending this to me
It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning. He said no, he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health.

He told me she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease.

As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late.

He replied she no longer knew who he was, she had not recognized him in five years now.

I was surprised,and asked him,'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'

He smiled as he patted my hand and said,'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.'

I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life.'

True love is neither physical, nor romantic.

True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

With all the jokes and fun that are in e-mails, sometimes there is one that comes along that has an important message. This one I thought I could share with you.

The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.

I hope you share this with someone you care about. I just did.

'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.

What will you Leave Behind?

Have you ever sat and wondered what legacy you are leaving behind? Seven interesting perspectives on Helium.

I Need it for Tomorrow

The perfect addendum post to my Good Fast Cheap blog, RGBisMe blogged about a little video clip that sums up certain aspects of our lives perfectly. At one time or another, we have had clients say almost everything the green robot says! Warning - the cheeky blue robot says words that we usually keep to ourselves.

Apartment Applicants via CraigsList

I am no longer excited to be getting applicants for the apartment and have even less enthusiasm to reply to phone numbers in Korea or people who cannot compose a business oriented email with any decorum.

I will keep adding to these gems.
sample emails so far...

Hi I a intersted inthe eff. apartment tat you have listed o Craigs
List. Plese ma I see it and file the application process? Not able
to move in until 11/09. Thanks

hiiiiiii
I'm interest in your apartment please send me your phone number or call me at 814 XXX XXXX
thank you

hi i like to take a look at the efficiency you have listed i work quit a bit however ido have tomorrow off so do u can u please call me 717-XXX-XXXX my name is xxxx if tomorrow don't work for you than maybe we can set up something later ill hope to hear from you .

(Yes, the above name was lower case.)

hello. i am going to be a student at psu for the 2010-11 school year. i am looking for a place to rent. i am interested in renting your place. please contact me by email or cell
717-XXX-XXXX. my name is xxxxxx. thank you

(Yes, the above names were also in lower case.)

Where is this apartment located?

(There is a google maps link to the street on the ad.)

Hello,

is your proposition still valid?
If yes, please leave your coordinates, we can meet tommorrow evening. I am seriously would like to take this apt.

hi my name is xxxxx xxxxxxx and iam lookin for a place i can afford iam kinda homeless right now so iam lookin for a place asap my number is 000- 0000

I called another man and his response to me was, "Is this your number?" I replied that I had not given him my number. Another woman I called agreed to a specific time to view the apartment because, "I have practice before that." She said she would call me before she came. I hadn't given her my number either.

Another converstion on the phone starts with one fellow asking me, "So tell me something that isn't in the ad."
I hesitated and asked, "What do you want to know?"
He chirped, "I see I caught you off guard. How about the dimensions of the rooms?"
"The dimensions of the rooms as well as photos are in the ad. I am at a loss to tell you anything more because I thought the ad was pretty comprehensive."
He looked at the ad, verified the room dimensions and then went on to ask more questions that were already in the ad as he was looking at it.

I know not everyone has the ad in front of them and that people can view and record the phone number I am calling from but I feel like a lot of presumptions are being made. Business etiquette has gone out the window with a lot of other manners. I guess I am not looking forward to this process at all.

LiveStrong Day 2009!

A day to be together as a family traveling to radiation treatment #3/25. Danville Regional Medical Center has some of the best treatment facilities in the area. We were treated to the valet parking so we didn't have to walk a long distance in the cold nor catch the crazy tram that drives around and around.

This hospital also has some of the best and affordable vegetarian soup. There is one selection every day and today's soup was Cream of Tomato. Don't try to get between me and my Danville soup.

After a great lunch of the best hospital food anywhere we went up to Radiation Oncology to celebrate LiveStrong Day 2009! There was a spread of goodies while we waited and Dad came out with a great organizational folder and new LiveStrong wristband that he gave to me! I will do my best to wear it until all of his treatments are complete in November.

Hospital visits always have an edge to them for me. I am doing my best to get over my personal fears and squeamishness and see the facility for what it tries to be. It's a hospital that is helping people recover from, heal their bodies and conquer diseases that in the past were seen as death sentences.

Indigo 2009

Not only do most people just assume I am a huge Indigo Girls fan but they think my screen/trail/camp/stripper name was inspired by them. I do like them, a lot, but almost chose a different name so that people wouldn't make that assumption about me. Realizing that assumptions would be made no matter what was chosen, "true indigo" was chosen and it stays.

"Indigo Girls, huh? That's a dyke band," will assume many partially informed pseudo-musicophiles. Anyone with a good ear has to admit that they are more than just a couple of gals with ideas and guitars. It's those who can set aside their prejudices that will actually admit it.

Much of the society I am surrounded by is filled with attitudes, images and language that reinforce the opinion that women and all they have to offer is junk. Women have tried to get over, up and around this issue by proving themselves as individuals and as a whole to be not only up to par with the male gender but to exceed them in certain areas. A couple thousand of years of reinforced patriarchal ways are not quickly overcome so it is not infrequent that the girl band, woman's opinion or female created anything is disregarded before given real consideration.

Let it be known that I try to speak my mind when I see people around me being blatantly sexist. Sadly, I have held my tongue too often for the sake of keeping peace in social situations when I hear of mistrust of women in general. With close to 50 years perspective, I am at the point of realizing that it is more uncomfortable for me to stay quiet and be insulted than it is for me to speak up, run the risk of upsetting the group dynamic and call someone to task on their prejudices. The mouthy hag is rising; you have been warned.

So thank you Amy & Emily for singing your magic last evening. Surrounded by people who appreciate and support your work, most of them women, was empowering. Your music is so well crafted and your performance was beautiful. Thank you for reminding me of your aspects of Indigo.

Safe Journey

You are on my mind today, Dad, as you start another life's journey. I predict this one will be more tedious than difficult, more annoying than treacherous.

I am happy to make the trip with you and hope we can share some soup together for lunch. You know they have the best soup in the WORLD there (better than Lewistown's 'Cream o' Salt' soup).

Take this month one step at a time. Use aloe gel and corn starch if you get a little "sunburn." It will be over and done with before we know it and we will have so many happy life moments to celebrate next month. Let's look forward to that!

Stations on Nittany Mountain

The past couple of hikes I have taken on Nittany I had noticed some sprayed markings for "stations" on the mountain. They were all on trail and at trail junctures so I ruled out an orienteering course. I wrote to Mount Nittany Conservancy asking what was being developed and I received a reply from Vince Verbeke,

We are adding 11 directional signs on the Mountain on both trails. Attached are 2 images that should help. The metal posts will be enclosed in wood cladding when done as well to make them blend in more with the surroundings.

As part of this project we are also re-doing the trail map itself. We will be updating the website when we get the signs in this Fall.

Safety is a top priority for MNC. We do a lot of work to keep the trails safe. But we needed to do more, as the lost family last Fall indicated. Thus this new effort. The signs include GPS coordinates to help Emergency Personnel if needed to locate the individuals.

Hopefully these signs will "stay" on the Mountain. We've had directional signs before but they were removed by the eager youth of Happy Valley.

Have a great day. We are supposed to have wonderful fall colors this year. I can't wait to see the Mountain in all its glory this Fall.

I hope local individuals and groups that read my blog find this helpful. Please feel free to share the link to this post to spread the information.

Purging

We have been spending a lot of time purging things at home and for RGBisme's mom. She recently made a move from a large house to a much smaller apartment in an adult living community.

The amount of stuff we can accumulate around us over the years can be vast. Taking time to go through each item, and make sure it is dealt with in a satisfactory manor can be very tedious. Even just moving wanted items short distances can be back breaking.

Friday night we set out to finish emptying his mom's attic attic. The ricketty pull down steps provided and added challenge. We probably shifted 60 some boxes with the last 20 weighing at about 30 lbs each. We had broken into a sweat pretty quickly so when I realized the heaviest work was at the end I had my doubts as to if we would be able to complete the job in one evening. Heavy boxes of books she allowed her other son to store in the attic were stowed way back in a corner. It's sad that he has a bad back and couldn't help.

We didn't let it get the best of us and cleared it all to the main floor to be dealt with by whomever wants to decide what it is to be done with it all. With what RGBisMe had done the week before there are boxes filling what were many of the living quarters. His mom is slowly sorting things into piles. There is a sell pile, a burn pile and a give away pile. The burn pile is really just some old rags and papers so it's admirable to be placing all of the other items rather than adding to a landfill.

I have to admit that I get very frustrated in trying to give things away or take them to the proper recycling centers. The difficulty in recycling clothes or taking big things part is that I do not drive a car*. Using Freecycling would be a lot easier if people were a little more reliable. I hate having to have a back up or two if the original claimant of an item does show.

I am going to try to be careful about how I accumulate things so that getting rid of them is less of a headache in the future.

* Much thanks to Maga11 for driving me to the solid waste authority to get rid of some heavy scrap metal today.

Back to Nittany

A solo hike up Nittany this week had me reminiscing on how much things had changed since the first time I climbed the mountain. The path has changed but is still very familiar.

The climb up Nittany used to take me a lot longer. Part of it was the unknown and I think part is I know how to pace myself. I don't go busting ahead at full force and take a lot of breaks. My pace is steady and the rare times I pause are for reasons like examining a pretty leaf of watching a chipmunk. I still break into a sweat but the climb is welcome exertion.

The white blazed path that goes up the side of the mountain has really changed. It used to be a single track except for near the trail head. Most parts that lead to the first and most accessible vista are now at least wide enough for 5 people to walk abreast. It is partially erosion that has caused this but the one section of trail I remember causing a huge washout down the mountain was changed within months of my first hike. Now it's even the switch-backed trail that is getting over wide.

Some of the trees have grown quite a bit. One tree that has meant a lot to me, a live tree that has a partial stump that holds water, has grown that it's stump section is almost over grown. I need to start looking for another resource for viable stump water for pow-wowing.

I did a 1/2 mile bushwhack pretty much on the top of the mountain. There is one section that is just covered with huckleberries and tea berries and I had a fun snack as I practiced a little orienteering. Some of the berries were actually a little far gone and I realized that it was because no critters are eating them. There are other sections of woodland we have hiked that are like that. A friend of Jim's who hunts shared that is an indicator that it is not a good place to hunt. There are no animals around to eat the natural foods. I never really saw many animals on Nittany in the past. Some woodland birds, chipmunks and squirrels were all I have ever seen.

In the past few years I have started to also explore the blue blazed trails but can remember how confusing just the white loop was the first time I hiked it with my son. There are a few twists it took that felt like I was headed in the wrong direction back then. I would check my compass and shake my head that I was so directionally confused any time the day was overcast. Now I know right where I am as long as I stay to the trails.

I still like finishing off my hike at the vista that looks over town. That view has changed too. The first time I looked down onto State College and PSU campus Beaver Stadium was much smaller and there was no Jordan Center, Medlar Field nor I99. I don't have any real feelings or opinion on those changes because what I am remembering are the time spent on the mountain. I sit and remember the jelly toast breakfast with my 10 year old son as we looked over town. I think of hiking with my kitten before he became afraid of everything.

I am proud that the first (non-geocache hybrid) letterbox we planted is still doing well nearby after almost 5 years. We don't use the same carving material, don't mount our stamps on wood, use different containers and the baggy that was on the OUTSIDE of the box was removed by me years ago. It is still a nice box so I hope that no one feels like they are ever doing something wrong when they start trying out planting letterboxes. You learn what works and what doesn't.

Things change and I think I do best when I embrace the changes or at least just let them wash over me. When I know of someone who is longing for the way things were in a different time or place I try to be sympathetic. I know it's good to try to change what is wrong in the world but I wish us all peace and hope we can learn to accept the things we cannot change.

Good, Fast, Cheap — Pick any Two

A sign similar to this used to hang in the lobby of Photographic Services on PSU campus where my father worked as senior photographer for years. I can remember reading the sign over and over and trying to imagine the combinations and how there might be an exception to any of them.

As a kid it was a fun little mental game. As an adult who provides worthwhile services it can be a frustrating reality. I want to hang the sign as a medallion around my neck, make it my signature line in my email, my call-tone on my cell phone or maybe I should get it as a tattoo.

When I read tarot cards it comes with a background of a quarter century of research on the tarot, symbology and believe it or not a soupçon of psychology to back up my intuition. So, even if I read cards in a bar it might be nice if I was at least treated to a soda. I gave something of quality (isn't that why they were raving about it to their friends who are now asking the same from me?) so I don't think its wrong to expect SOMETHING in return. There is no pick any 2 in that situation! I allow myself to be walked all over, it's my form of advertising.

When I have to put off everything I am doing to meet someone's tight deadline on a design they should be ready to understand that quality at top speed comes at a price. My years of training in art and design brought you to me and they want me to do it FAST! A camera ready piece whipped out within a couple hours means either lack of sleep or that I had to put off other jobs to get it to them in time for a deadline. They shouldn't blanch at the higher price, I had to jump through hoops with the same dexterity at an increased speed.

The one time I can let a piece of work go through that I do not consider "good" is when it is a quick mock up of something. Thank goodness the most recent one we sent out was clearly understood to be just that. The client was not 100% happy with the wording nor the design but understood that it was just to get the ball rolling to help clarify what direction would be best to design the final piece. What a breath of fresh air.

Customer Service

I am feeling customer service is not the priority as it may have once been. frequently when I need help in a store I feel more like I am interrupting the life someone who is avoiding doing their job. I apologize for needing help in a store when interrupting sales associates having animated and personal conversations. I wait while cashiers text on their cell phones. I cringe and try not to be shocked when meter readers march into my back yard while loudly jawing obscenities on their cell phones. I am the customer paying the bill, I deserve some consideration.

I have tried to determine what about me makes me invisible the times I want to be noticed and helped. I can remember wondering this while being overlooked by the staff at one such desk for minutes as they wrapped up a personal conversation with a friend who departed just as their replacement person arrived. They brought the replacment up to speed on how to run the information desk and I still waited, the only person around the desk other than themselves. Eventually another person came up to ask for directions to something and they dropped what they were doing to field the questions. As the customer departed, they started to go back to chatting informally and I said, "I am sorry to have to draw attention to the fact that I am visible but I have been waiting for quite a while." I got 2 very annoyed looks.

I pass along compliments and complaints and I try to keep them balanced. I am hoping that businesses realize that poor customer service, lack of training, professionalism and outright rudeness will cost them customers and money in the long run. Not many people I know have money to burn right now. When we choose to spend our incomes at businesses who give us professional attention, the losers will be the ones who have not trained their employees to value the customer. I refuse to be a victim of poor customer service.

Happy Mabon!

On this day of equal light and darkness, may you find the balance you need in your life, may you be blessed with abundance of many kinds, and may you be surrounded by the people who love you.

Dine by the Blue Juniata

The title was inspired by the title of a song my grandfather once told me about, The Blue Juniata. I have never known the Juniata to look blue in all the years I have known her.

The fam took a break from duties to lunch at the Waterfront Tavern and we got one of the best river view seats in the place. They did not have many choices on the menu for vegetarians but seemed willing to change any menu item to suit. The salads and quesadilla we ordered we prepared well and tasted very good.

We had a quiet lunch and heard some stories about how a local, Sherman Kline, would dredge the river for sand for his cement factory just up river. As a boy, my dad remembers Sherman once coming around to their house and asked to hire him for the day. He was taught to plaster and was sent into a closet to apply what he had learned. He was the only one small enough to get the job done.

Loss of Childhood Innocence

In the late '60s and early '70s, my family had some rough times. Within just a few years we were hit hard by my grandmother's death, tight finances and Hurricane Agnes.

Summer vacation had just started in 1972. Agnes came smack in the middle of Nixon's term in office. I can remember that the country seemed to have strong opinions of everything and the topic of the Vietnam War was on every one's lips. Mad Magazine's cartoons were full of kids fighting their parents and a country divided. The hurricane seemed a physical manifestation of what we were all surrounded by.

My Aunt Hannah and Uncle Gordie were kind enough to allow us to live with them until the high waters (of the hurricane) receded. It seemed like a month but may have only been a week that we had to live without our home and dog. During that time I was exposed to the lives of my two older cousins whose groovy long straight hair was something as foreign to me as having an older sibling. The family was conservative but the fluorescent giant daisies and shag stuffed animals they decorated their rooms with were very trippy to me. For all I knew they might paint their bodies and go-go dance like Goldie Hawn on Laugh-In.

Our return home was bitter sweet. Much of what we had owned was ruined and had been thrown away before we had even been allowed to set foot in the house. Personal papers and photographs were set up to dry out on every surface we could spare. My school photos were all waterlogged and stained from the ink that had been on the pages of the keepsake album they were kept in. Like a groovy body painter, my face on those prints would be forever decorated with blue backward handwriting. Even though my parents must have shielded us from the worst of the damage, it was still shocking.

My sister and I, 7 and 10 years old, helped clean up little things as best we could. I can remember no TV for a while and we would sit on the front porch listening to the AM station WKVA. We did this while cleaning "flood mud" off of things that were to be salvaged. Paul Harvey's "good day" talk and the Porgy and Bess song that the station used for it's jingle got old to me quickly but all of our record albums were not in a state to play. The vinyls were being salvaged but the cardboard covers were a stinking mess that had to be peeled off and discarded.

What my sister and I did manage to enjoy was a cassette tape player. We used it mainly for recording each other's shenanigans and interviewing other kids in the neighborhood but also had a limited few tapes of music. While I gently wiped the dried silt from the groves of our vinyl albums, I became hooked on one tape and would play it front then back then front again. It was Peter, Paul & Mary's Moving.

Some of the sounds and songs were so haunting and I found myself exploring the different vocal parts of each one. This was my introduction to the tune
Puff the Magic Dragon and I challenged myself to sing each part in the three parts of their harmony. I really didn't contemplate the meanings of the songs like This Land is Your Land but their forceful conviction with how they sang the song felt real and meaningful.

Two summers later I sported sewn patches of Love and Peace signs on my clothes duffel bag as I marched off to Girl Scout camp. I had won some money for my photography and was proud to have helped pay my way. I no longer confused Peter, Paul & Mary as makers of candy bars and knew they sang If I had a Hammer. I felt like I had a hammer and was making my way out of the turmoil. I was my own person.

At that time I was very erratically getting my menstrual period. Surrounded by young women of all ages at Girl Scout camp, my body instantly picked up on the mass of female hormones and surprised me with a rare menstrual moment. Mom had packed me 2 tampons. I can remember staring at the list of things to purchase at the little commissary. Tampax were expensive and I was too embarrassed to ask for them. I decided to make the two I had last.

I ended up ill with the shakes and a fever for a time that next week. I probably was getting Toxic Shock Syndrome but was healthy enough to have fought it off. I didn't want to tell anyone that I felt bad because they might find out the secret that I was having my menstrual period. I have no idea why I didn't want anyone to know. I had never been told it was dirty or naughty. In the end, I only spent a day and a night in the infirmary. I didn't like missing out on what was going on.

I probably wouldn't have admitted I was ill at all if I hadn't had a few upsetting experiences with some of the other campers in my unit. One girl had tried to set me straight that the peace sign patch on my white hooded sweatshirt was blasphemous. The golden yellow three pronged image set over the background of the night sky and earth was not a symbol of peace according to her. It was Jesus' cross with the arms broken down. For the rest of camp I chose not to wear that sweatshirt in case I was offending anyone with the peace sign. I can remember feeling cold a few times when I should had been in the warmth of that hoodie.

The capper to it all was that almost all of the girls in my unit agreed that
Puff the Magic Dragon was about smoking marijuana. I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard but felt so confused and out of the loop that I was the only one who spoke up against that idea. The next day I had one girl later attack me and try to drown me in the lake for being a Christ-hating hippy. She was severely punished and I was left shaken.

The whole camp shared an unheard of moment of watching television. President Nixon was resigning and they wanted us to witness a moment in history. More heated opinions were whispered and harsh glances were thrown in my direction.The confidence I had when I had left home was stripped. Nothing seemed certain; the world was a huge place full of very different people and ideas.

I returned home a little jaded but much more self aware. I knew what could happen if I shared my opinions with some people and the draw backs of not being prepared to keep things like my menstrual period a private issue. It was a summer that solidified a real loss of childhood innocence for me. I walked away from the land of Honah Lee and have never been able to return.

All of this was brought back to the front of my mind this morning when I read that Mary Travers had passed. When I hear her voice rising and blending with the other two, I can still remember what it was like to be idealistic without the harsh edge of reality creeping in and forming me into a young adult. I will forever hang on to that part of me and vow to listen to her voice to make it so.

Questions Answered

When you trip along the edge of the faerie realm do not be shocked when more time has passed than you expected.

I had many questions answered and have been made aware that the heat shield sculpture garden has needed attention. I had promised to get to it by the end of summer. That was what had irked many of the fae.

I hope that my attentions have put it right. As an offering of thanks for their return, an addition for those who play in flight has been put into place.

I can no longer take those without faerie blood to this location without them running a risk of losing themselves. Up until now, I have been fortunate to have shared it mainly with those who are part or full faerie or elven or just dang lucky peoples.

Now to touch up that HUGE hunk of additional grey in my hair or maybe it's just time to let it grow out. Amazing!

The Lawn Faeries!

Over the past quarter of a century we have been blessed with many faeries and elves in our lives. This past year even more have been around. Maybe the addition of the fairy door made them feel more welcome.

For some unknown reason, at the last full moon all of our faerie folk departed. They left with no warning. Do faeries migrate or go on vacation? I expressed my concerns directly to the faerie realm and although one accompanied me on a trip to run some errands I received no clear answer.

The worst part of the realization was the void left because the lawn faeries had gone. Mowing the lawn was pure drudgery without them. Typically our yard is lively and quite pretty in a "I love every living thing" kind of way. After mowing the last time I looked back at the lawn and it looked lifeless and void of magic. Although tidy one day, it was ugly and littered with nastiness within just a couple of days. Leaves and acorns are fine and welcome but paper and doggy diarrhea are terrible things to pick up.

Today I set out to mow and was apprehensive. As always I tried to stay aware of the mushrooms and moths. I lifted fluttering moths out of the way and took them to places that had already been mowed. I waited patiently as crickets hopped frantically to safety. This takes extra time and I can sometime miss huge areas of grass to avoid hurting a critter.

As I neared the end of this job, I realized that although where I had mowed had been erratic, I had covered every inch and was not tired. I looked back at the spiraling patterns in the grass and, because it was peppered with leaf mulch, it painted a picture of the upcoming Autumn. I am so glad some faeries have returned. Life is glum without their magic.