September 2024
Reading Ross Gay
30/09/24 01:57
I’ve been reading essays by Ross Gay recently. I started by reading his New York Times bestselling, “The Book of Delights.” I wasn’t overly impressed. He is a good writer, and I’m not sure what about the book disappointed me. Perhaps it is that I expected the book to have an essay for each day of a year. After all, it is introduced as his assuming the discipline of writing a brief essay about a delight each day for a year. Perhaps he maintained that discipline and wrote 365 essays but not all of them were deemed worthy of publication. That is the way it is for me. Were I to make a book of my journal entries, not every entry would be worthy of a book. However, it ends up appearing that he just didn’t really keep the discipline of writing one essay a day. I was a bit disappointed by the shortness of his essays. There are a lot of good ideas in the book that could be more fully developed. Very few, if any, of his essays are as long as my journal entries and many of them are significantly shorter - just a few paragraphs that seem to me to be barely an essay. Had they been responses to an assignment I gave to students, I would have requested that he go back, write more, and more fully develop his ideas.
However, I continued to read his work, skipping for now over “The Book of More Delights,” and reading instead “Inciting Joy.” I continue to read for a couple of reasons. First and foremost is that colleagues who are decades younger than I highly recommended him to me. Part of the joy of my life is having friends and colleagues of many different ages, and I have derived a lot of inspiration from the suggestions of people decades younger than I. I am also enticed because he has some really strong endorsements in the liner notes. Ada Limón, the 24th Poet Laureate of the United States, gave a one word review of “Inciting Joy.” She wrote, “Brilliant.” I have been so inspired by Limón’s poetry and if she finds a book to be brilliant, I think it is worthy of my attention. Both Gay and Limón are a generation younger than I. She is 48 and he is 50. They aren’t exactly young, but they are enough younger than I to bring an important perspective to my reading.
So I’ll continue to read more. Perhaps I’ll check out Gay’s “Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude,” which was a finalist for the National Book Award for Poetry. I suspect I will appreciate Gay’s poetry more than his essays.
Gay is a gardener and he wrote a fun essay about going through seed catalogues, both online and in print. I share his enthusiasm for those catalogues, which among other things feature some really good photographs of flowers, fruit, and vegetables. I can identify with his tendency to over order seeds and young plants. The essay goes on to describe the plants in his garden and I am impressed with is knowledge of a widely diverse collection. He writes about his sunflowers and that got my attention because I try to grow sunflowers every year. The tall plants with dramatic flowers are such fun. This year, for whatever reason, I had a very low germination rate for my sunflowers seeds. I have a few shorter plants and one lone super tall sunflower with giant blossoms. The single big plant is worth all of the effort. It is gorgeous, and I can identify with his joy in the sunflowers.
In the essay he reports finding “teeny bumble-looking-bees” nestled in the sunflowers. He describes them as “sacked out” and tired. Gay may know a lot about seeds and plants, but he isn’t an authority on bees. He speculates that the bees have homes elsewhere and are nestled in the sunflowers because they are exhausted from the process of pollination. He doesn’t have the story of the bees quite right.
The bees probably are bumble bees and not honey bees. Honey bees that overnight away from the hive are usually female workers who are nearing the end of their lives. By exposing themselves to overnight cold away from the hive they decrease the possibility of them dying in the hive, which makes more work for the other bees. The bumble bees he finds in the sunflowers are probably males, which are smaller than females. The organization of a bumble bee nest is quite different from honey bees, but in both colonies, the main function of males is to mate with a queen. Bumble bee queens mate with males from other colonies to insure genetic diversity. The number of males produced by a colony is based on the amount of resources available. The first batches of bees that pupate in the spring are female and spend their lives foraging and returning to the nest. Males are produced only after the nest is established and has sufficient resources. Some nests never get to the stage of producing males. Others produce small numbers. The males leave the nest to mate with members of a different colony and never return. They expire within a few weeks, and can be found sleeping on vegetation in late summer.
Gay describes petting the bees he finds on the sunflowers. It is good that he is doing so with males rather than female ones. Only queens and female worker bumble bees have stingers. The males won’t sting. if they feel threatened their defensive behavior is lying on their backs.
The encounter with the bees is incidental to the essay and perhaps does not deserve more attention or expertise. It left me wishing that Gay would write an essay on the bees. Doing so, however, would require him to do a bit of simple research. Information about bees is readily available on the Internet. The Xerces Society in the United States has all of the information he would need on their website.
So I’ll read a bit more by Gay and I’ll definitely explore some of his poetry. And, in the meantime, unlike him, I will continue to write a lengthy essay every day. After all he is a published author and I’m only an aspiring writer. There must be much worth reading in his books.
However, I continued to read his work, skipping for now over “The Book of More Delights,” and reading instead “Inciting Joy.” I continue to read for a couple of reasons. First and foremost is that colleagues who are decades younger than I highly recommended him to me. Part of the joy of my life is having friends and colleagues of many different ages, and I have derived a lot of inspiration from the suggestions of people decades younger than I. I am also enticed because he has some really strong endorsements in the liner notes. Ada Limón, the 24th Poet Laureate of the United States, gave a one word review of “Inciting Joy.” She wrote, “Brilliant.” I have been so inspired by Limón’s poetry and if she finds a book to be brilliant, I think it is worthy of my attention. Both Gay and Limón are a generation younger than I. She is 48 and he is 50. They aren’t exactly young, but they are enough younger than I to bring an important perspective to my reading.
So I’ll continue to read more. Perhaps I’ll check out Gay’s “Catalogue of Unabashed Gratitude,” which was a finalist for the National Book Award for Poetry. I suspect I will appreciate Gay’s poetry more than his essays.
Gay is a gardener and he wrote a fun essay about going through seed catalogues, both online and in print. I share his enthusiasm for those catalogues, which among other things feature some really good photographs of flowers, fruit, and vegetables. I can identify with his tendency to over order seeds and young plants. The essay goes on to describe the plants in his garden and I am impressed with is knowledge of a widely diverse collection. He writes about his sunflowers and that got my attention because I try to grow sunflowers every year. The tall plants with dramatic flowers are such fun. This year, for whatever reason, I had a very low germination rate for my sunflowers seeds. I have a few shorter plants and one lone super tall sunflower with giant blossoms. The single big plant is worth all of the effort. It is gorgeous, and I can identify with his joy in the sunflowers.
In the essay he reports finding “teeny bumble-looking-bees” nestled in the sunflowers. He describes them as “sacked out” and tired. Gay may know a lot about seeds and plants, but he isn’t an authority on bees. He speculates that the bees have homes elsewhere and are nestled in the sunflowers because they are exhausted from the process of pollination. He doesn’t have the story of the bees quite right.
The bees probably are bumble bees and not honey bees. Honey bees that overnight away from the hive are usually female workers who are nearing the end of their lives. By exposing themselves to overnight cold away from the hive they decrease the possibility of them dying in the hive, which makes more work for the other bees. The bumble bees he finds in the sunflowers are probably males, which are smaller than females. The organization of a bumble bee nest is quite different from honey bees, but in both colonies, the main function of males is to mate with a queen. Bumble bee queens mate with males from other colonies to insure genetic diversity. The number of males produced by a colony is based on the amount of resources available. The first batches of bees that pupate in the spring are female and spend their lives foraging and returning to the nest. Males are produced only after the nest is established and has sufficient resources. Some nests never get to the stage of producing males. Others produce small numbers. The males leave the nest to mate with members of a different colony and never return. They expire within a few weeks, and can be found sleeping on vegetation in late summer.
Gay describes petting the bees he finds on the sunflowers. It is good that he is doing so with males rather than female ones. Only queens and female worker bumble bees have stingers. The males won’t sting. if they feel threatened their defensive behavior is lying on their backs.
The encounter with the bees is incidental to the essay and perhaps does not deserve more attention or expertise. It left me wishing that Gay would write an essay on the bees. Doing so, however, would require him to do a bit of simple research. Information about bees is readily available on the Internet. The Xerces Society in the United States has all of the information he would need on their website.
So I’ll read a bit more by Gay and I’ll definitely explore some of his poetry. And, in the meantime, unlike him, I will continue to write a lengthy essay every day. After all he is a published author and I’m only an aspiring writer. There must be much worth reading in his books.
Recognizing holidays
29/09/24 02:55
Living where we do we are aware of not only the holidays that are a part of the calendar here in the United States, but also the cycle of Canadian National holidays. Our community is a place where people from both countries come to celebrate holidays, so the number of people in town on a particular weekend is affected by the cycles of holidays. Some occasions are celebrated in both countries. Labor Day is the same holiday in both places. Christmas and Easter are also shared holidays. Other holidays are unique to one country or another. In the Summer, for example, Canadians celebrate their national holiday on July 1 and we celebrate ours on July 4. Depending on which day of the week the days land, celebrations can include the same weekend, but also can land on two successive weekends. Since we can look across the water to Canada, we have the option of watching fireworks on July 1 and then getting a second show on July 4. In the spring, Canadians celebrate Victoria Day on the last Monday preceding May 25. Citizens of the United States observe Memorial Day on the last Monday of May. Most of the time, as was the case this year, those are two successive weekends. Victoria Day brings lots of cars with Canadian license plates to the beach cottages in our village. Memorial Day brings cars with plates from Washington, Oregon, and other US states.
There are also holidays that are celebrated in both countries, but the celebrations occur on different days. Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving on the second Monday in October. That will be October 14 this year. Our US celebration of Thanksgiving is the fourth Thursday of November which will be November 28. The days are similar in how they are celebrated, with family dinners and prayer of gratitude.
Another holiday observed in both countries, but on different days, is Indigenous People’s Day. Canadians have two separate holidays. National Indigenous People’s Day in Canada is held on June 21. It is not a statutory holiday, and so it is a work day for federal employees. Many Canadians wear orange or red on that day as a sign of solidarity. In the fall, there is another Canadian recognition of native peoples. The National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is marked on the fourth Monday of September. It is a new holiday in Canada and is marked by the wearing of orange and with speakers, art displays, and other activities. This year many observances are focusing on the tragedies of children who were taken from their families and placed in residential schools. As more information about deaths that occurred in those schools is made available, the observance of the day will be somber.
Here in the United States, we honor and celebrate the history and culture of Indigenous Americans on the second Monday in October. The holiday was observed for many decades as Columbus Day. On the 500th anniversary of the arrival of Columbus in the Americas in 1992, some Americans chose not to celebrate the coming of Europeans to the continent, but rather recognize and celebrate the people and cultures that were here before the arrival of Columbus. South Dakota was the first state in the nation to officially change the name and focus of the holiday. It has observed Native Americans’ Day in October since 1990 when Governor George Mickelson’s proposal was adopted by the State Legislature.
If you have been following the dance of holidays in both countries, you might have noticed that the US Indigenous People’s Day is Canadian Thanksgiving. It can be a bit confusing if one is trying to keep track of all of the holidays and how they are recognized and celebrated. After a short time of living in a holiday community located on the border, however, the rhythm of celebrations and the people who come and go from the rental cottages in our town becomes natural.
In practical terms, Canadians who are recognizing the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation by going to holiday homes, are in our town this weekend. Our area has been a place of fishing and gathering food from the sea by Coast Salish peoples since time immemorial. The Lummi People lived near the coast with Nooksack tribal members living nearby in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. The present day Lummi Reservation is a short drive from our home on paved back roads, and a bit farther if one goes out to the Interstate Highway. It is also a short paddle down the coast from our bay to Lummi Bay. Ceremonial paddles of Coast Salish people come ashore in our bay from time to time, reminding us of the indigenous heritage of our place.
There are, of course many ways to observe holidays. Parades, ceremonies, and other public events are meaningful for some, while others prefer to observe holidays privately with family traditions and recognitions. A lot of people simply observe holidays as opportunities for recreation, and our community has been a recreational community for many decades. We notice holidays in both countries with an increase in traffic. Yesterday when I rode my bicycle around our area there were a lot more people out and about, walking along the beach, frequenting beach front restaurants and bars, and riding bikes and scooters. There was little about the folk that indicated any formal observance of Canadian National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. There were no boarding schools in our town. Indigenous children who were taken to boarding schools were taken away from here. So our town is not one of the places where storytelling and reconciliation ceremonies are being held. The folks in our town are mostly here for recreation on a long weekend with an extra day off from work on Monday for Canadians.
Most US citizens observe Indigenous Peoples’ Day in a similar fashion. Designated as a national day of learning about and celebrating indigenous tribes, people generally do not travel to reservations for their celebrations.
Whenever we give formal recognition to Indigenous People and however we learn of the cultures, languages, and communities that were here before settlers arrived, Autumn is a time to be grateful for the people who came before us and to remind ourselves to tread lightly on the land that we occupy only temporarily. Soon it will be the place of new generations. May they learn to live in peace in the beauty of this place.
There are also holidays that are celebrated in both countries, but the celebrations occur on different days. Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving on the second Monday in October. That will be October 14 this year. Our US celebration of Thanksgiving is the fourth Thursday of November which will be November 28. The days are similar in how they are celebrated, with family dinners and prayer of gratitude.
Another holiday observed in both countries, but on different days, is Indigenous People’s Day. Canadians have two separate holidays. National Indigenous People’s Day in Canada is held on June 21. It is not a statutory holiday, and so it is a work day for federal employees. Many Canadians wear orange or red on that day as a sign of solidarity. In the fall, there is another Canadian recognition of native peoples. The National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is marked on the fourth Monday of September. It is a new holiday in Canada and is marked by the wearing of orange and with speakers, art displays, and other activities. This year many observances are focusing on the tragedies of children who were taken from their families and placed in residential schools. As more information about deaths that occurred in those schools is made available, the observance of the day will be somber.
Here in the United States, we honor and celebrate the history and culture of Indigenous Americans on the second Monday in October. The holiday was observed for many decades as Columbus Day. On the 500th anniversary of the arrival of Columbus in the Americas in 1992, some Americans chose not to celebrate the coming of Europeans to the continent, but rather recognize and celebrate the people and cultures that were here before the arrival of Columbus. South Dakota was the first state in the nation to officially change the name and focus of the holiday. It has observed Native Americans’ Day in October since 1990 when Governor George Mickelson’s proposal was adopted by the State Legislature.
If you have been following the dance of holidays in both countries, you might have noticed that the US Indigenous People’s Day is Canadian Thanksgiving. It can be a bit confusing if one is trying to keep track of all of the holidays and how they are recognized and celebrated. After a short time of living in a holiday community located on the border, however, the rhythm of celebrations and the people who come and go from the rental cottages in our town becomes natural.
In practical terms, Canadians who are recognizing the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation by going to holiday homes, are in our town this weekend. Our area has been a place of fishing and gathering food from the sea by Coast Salish peoples since time immemorial. The Lummi People lived near the coast with Nooksack tribal members living nearby in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. The present day Lummi Reservation is a short drive from our home on paved back roads, and a bit farther if one goes out to the Interstate Highway. It is also a short paddle down the coast from our bay to Lummi Bay. Ceremonial paddles of Coast Salish people come ashore in our bay from time to time, reminding us of the indigenous heritage of our place.
There are, of course many ways to observe holidays. Parades, ceremonies, and other public events are meaningful for some, while others prefer to observe holidays privately with family traditions and recognitions. A lot of people simply observe holidays as opportunities for recreation, and our community has been a recreational community for many decades. We notice holidays in both countries with an increase in traffic. Yesterday when I rode my bicycle around our area there were a lot more people out and about, walking along the beach, frequenting beach front restaurants and bars, and riding bikes and scooters. There was little about the folk that indicated any formal observance of Canadian National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. There were no boarding schools in our town. Indigenous children who were taken to boarding schools were taken away from here. So our town is not one of the places where storytelling and reconciliation ceremonies are being held. The folks in our town are mostly here for recreation on a long weekend with an extra day off from work on Monday for Canadians.
Most US citizens observe Indigenous Peoples’ Day in a similar fashion. Designated as a national day of learning about and celebrating indigenous tribes, people generally do not travel to reservations for their celebrations.
Whenever we give formal recognition to Indigenous People and however we learn of the cultures, languages, and communities that were here before settlers arrived, Autumn is a time to be grateful for the people who came before us and to remind ourselves to tread lightly on the land that we occupy only temporarily. Soon it will be the place of new generations. May they learn to live in peace in the beauty of this place.
Preparing for potential disaster
28/09/24 03:12
A committee on which I serve has been working on options for expanding our church’s solar production and adding a battery backup system. The proposed arrangement would not only allow the church to be independent of the electrical grid, but also serve as a way to strengthen the grid when the power system is working properly and provide shelter to the neighborhood in the event of a prolonged grid failure. We have written and submitted several grant applications, but our project has not been funded at this time. We are considering other ways in which we might make progress toward our goal. Our church already has 88 solar panels producing electricity that power our building, reducing our energy costs and helping make our neighborhood a bit less dependent on outside electricity.
As part of the process of developing our plan, we have met regularly with County and City disaster preparedness officials to see how we might work with them to serve our community. In those conversations, I have learned a bit about some of the threats for which our community is preparing. This was a significant learning curve for me because I have lived much of my life where wildfire is the number one threat. We also lived for a while in a region that saw occasional tornadoes and citizens needed to be prepared for severe storms. Winter storms also present challenges for disaster preparedness in the Dakotas where we lived.
Here in the Pacific Northwest, disaster preparedness officials think about and plan for the possibility of a major earthquake. We live in what is known as the Pacific Ring of Fire, also known as the Circum-Pacific Belt, a region around the north Pacific Ocean characterized by active volcanoes and frequent earthquakes. I’m not a geologist and I don’t fully understand all of the dynamics involved, but in general the Pacific Plate is moving northwest at a speed slightly slower than 3 or 4 inches per year. Meanwhile the North American Plate is moving to the west-southwest at a bit less than an inch per year. Between them the small Juan De Fuca Plate, moving east-northeast at a slow pace is subjecting beneath the North America plate. That motion is not smooth, but rather it sticks and strain builds up until something breaks. This subduction is the cause of the volcanoes of the Cascade mountains and periodic slips of the plate cause relatively frequent earthquakes. Geologists predict that additional volcanic eruptions and major earthquakes are likely, but are not able to make accurate predictions in terms of the timing of these events.
On average this region has experienced a major subduction event about once in 550 years. Some scientists believe that such an event is likely and somewhat overdue. That doesn’t mean that an event will occur in our lifetime, but that the region continues to be vulnerable to earthquakes and volcanoes.
A major earthquake, like the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan, would cause major damage and disruption in our region. We paid attention to those threats when we were shopping for our home here, choosing to consider only homes that are above the tsunami evacuation zone. A major earthquake, however, could disrupt systems upon which we depend. Disaster preparedness officials in Bellingham, where our church is located, estimate that an earthquake with power similar to the 9.0 Tōhoku quake could completely shut down the power grid and also water and sewer systems in the city. A major multi-grid failure could take years for restoration. Therefore the city is seeking shelters that might be able to operate in the event of grid shutdowns.
From time to time we receive some hints that the geology of our area is active. In July a 6.4 magnitude earthquake occurred off the west coast of Canada that could be felt in parts of our region. This week a moderate earthquake of 4.0 centered in the Haro Strait about 40miles west of where we live. It was enough for some people in our region to feel it. We didn’t experience the shaking, but the quake occurred early in the morning when we were still in bed. According to the U.S. Geological Survey website, more than 2,200 people reported feeling the quake. No tsunami warning was issued, but at noon that day, local officials ran a test of the tsunami warning sirens in our area. We have learned a bit about these tests. Officials always test right at noon and the blasts from the sirens are short. In the event of an actual tsunami warning the sirens would continue to sound over a longer period of time and the sound would coincide with the actual time of the issuance of the warning. We can hear the sirens down the hill from our home on the bay from our home.
Here in Birch Bay, the locals have a tradition that centers around the routine testing of the siren on New Year’s Day. On that day hundreds of people assemble on the beach and right at noon when the siren sounds, they all take a quick swim in the bay. The even is called the Polar Bear plunge. We don’t have any actual polar bears in our area, but last New Year’s Day, I participated in the plunge and I plan to do so each New Years Day that we are here as long as my health permits. It was a fun event.
Tsunamis, however, aren’t laughing matters. Were a major earthquake to cause a tsunami in the narrow Haro Straight, there would be major destruction and likely loss of life on the islands. In the beach areas thousands of buildings could be inundated by water with destruction being widespread. Evacuation plans are in place. In our community, the assembly point for evacuees is a former air force radar station that is a short walk from our home. It is reassuring that our home is in the zone considered safe even in the event of a worst-case scenario. Being save from the waters, however, does not mean that we would have essential services following a major earthquake.
Learning to live in our new home means making plans for possible disaster. Those plans are most effective when they are community plans rather than individual survival plans. As a result I continue to work to educate myself and coordinate with community officials. Like our church, our home has solar panels that produce more electricity than we consume. For now battery technology makes the installation of an off grid system on our home a steep investment, but technology is rapidly changing and we continue to explore possibilities.
As part of the process of developing our plan, we have met regularly with County and City disaster preparedness officials to see how we might work with them to serve our community. In those conversations, I have learned a bit about some of the threats for which our community is preparing. This was a significant learning curve for me because I have lived much of my life where wildfire is the number one threat. We also lived for a while in a region that saw occasional tornadoes and citizens needed to be prepared for severe storms. Winter storms also present challenges for disaster preparedness in the Dakotas where we lived.
Here in the Pacific Northwest, disaster preparedness officials think about and plan for the possibility of a major earthquake. We live in what is known as the Pacific Ring of Fire, also known as the Circum-Pacific Belt, a region around the north Pacific Ocean characterized by active volcanoes and frequent earthquakes. I’m not a geologist and I don’t fully understand all of the dynamics involved, but in general the Pacific Plate is moving northwest at a speed slightly slower than 3 or 4 inches per year. Meanwhile the North American Plate is moving to the west-southwest at a bit less than an inch per year. Between them the small Juan De Fuca Plate, moving east-northeast at a slow pace is subjecting beneath the North America plate. That motion is not smooth, but rather it sticks and strain builds up until something breaks. This subduction is the cause of the volcanoes of the Cascade mountains and periodic slips of the plate cause relatively frequent earthquakes. Geologists predict that additional volcanic eruptions and major earthquakes are likely, but are not able to make accurate predictions in terms of the timing of these events.
On average this region has experienced a major subduction event about once in 550 years. Some scientists believe that such an event is likely and somewhat overdue. That doesn’t mean that an event will occur in our lifetime, but that the region continues to be vulnerable to earthquakes and volcanoes.
A major earthquake, like the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan, would cause major damage and disruption in our region. We paid attention to those threats when we were shopping for our home here, choosing to consider only homes that are above the tsunami evacuation zone. A major earthquake, however, could disrupt systems upon which we depend. Disaster preparedness officials in Bellingham, where our church is located, estimate that an earthquake with power similar to the 9.0 Tōhoku quake could completely shut down the power grid and also water and sewer systems in the city. A major multi-grid failure could take years for restoration. Therefore the city is seeking shelters that might be able to operate in the event of grid shutdowns.
From time to time we receive some hints that the geology of our area is active. In July a 6.4 magnitude earthquake occurred off the west coast of Canada that could be felt in parts of our region. This week a moderate earthquake of 4.0 centered in the Haro Strait about 40miles west of where we live. It was enough for some people in our region to feel it. We didn’t experience the shaking, but the quake occurred early in the morning when we were still in bed. According to the U.S. Geological Survey website, more than 2,200 people reported feeling the quake. No tsunami warning was issued, but at noon that day, local officials ran a test of the tsunami warning sirens in our area. We have learned a bit about these tests. Officials always test right at noon and the blasts from the sirens are short. In the event of an actual tsunami warning the sirens would continue to sound over a longer period of time and the sound would coincide with the actual time of the issuance of the warning. We can hear the sirens down the hill from our home on the bay from our home.
Here in Birch Bay, the locals have a tradition that centers around the routine testing of the siren on New Year’s Day. On that day hundreds of people assemble on the beach and right at noon when the siren sounds, they all take a quick swim in the bay. The even is called the Polar Bear plunge. We don’t have any actual polar bears in our area, but last New Year’s Day, I participated in the plunge and I plan to do so each New Years Day that we are here as long as my health permits. It was a fun event.
Tsunamis, however, aren’t laughing matters. Were a major earthquake to cause a tsunami in the narrow Haro Straight, there would be major destruction and likely loss of life on the islands. In the beach areas thousands of buildings could be inundated by water with destruction being widespread. Evacuation plans are in place. In our community, the assembly point for evacuees is a former air force radar station that is a short walk from our home. It is reassuring that our home is in the zone considered safe even in the event of a worst-case scenario. Being save from the waters, however, does not mean that we would have essential services following a major earthquake.
Learning to live in our new home means making plans for possible disaster. Those plans are most effective when they are community plans rather than individual survival plans. As a result I continue to work to educate myself and coordinate with community officials. Like our church, our home has solar panels that produce more electricity than we consume. For now battery technology makes the installation of an off grid system on our home a steep investment, but technology is rapidly changing and we continue to explore possibilities.
Exploring our home
27/09/24 03:13
For quite a while in the early 2000s I got into watching British sitcoms on PBS television. Although I’m not a bit watcher of television, I enjoyed the lighthearted stories and the simple fact that it was easy to miss an episode (or several) and still be able to enjoy a program. One program that I enjoyed was a romantic comedy titled “As Time Goes By.” The story centers on the romance of Jean Pargetter, played by Judi Dench, who runs a secretarial agency in London. She is a widowed single mother. Lionel Hardcastle, played by Geoffrey Palmer, is a retired coffee planter who spent most of his adult life in Kenya, and who sold his coffee plantation, divorced his wife and returned to the UK to write his memoirs. He goes to the secretarial agency to get assistance with the project and meets Jean.
The story has many other memorable characters and complexities that really beyond the scope of this journal entry, but one character stands out. Mrs Bale, played by Janet Henfrey, is the housekeeper of Lionel’s father’s country home which Lionel occasional visits and eventually inherits. Mrs. Bale seems to belong to the property and so she continues to serve Lionel after his father’s death. The story doesn’t go into much of her story, but viewers quickly learn two things about her. She follows Australian rules football and she keeps up with the shipping forecast and can quote the forecast word for word as advice to anyone who listens about being prepared for the weather.
I used to watch the program and laugh with the scenarios presented, including Mrs. Bale’s uncanny accuracy with forecasts based on the shipping forecast. Being a resident of the center of the North American continent, I didn’t have a clue as to the shipping forecast, but assumed that it was a bit like the detailed forecasts available to pilots by the National Weather Services Aviation Weather Center.
Now I live near the coast and as far as I know we don’t have access to a shipping forecast, but the weather applications on our phones have alerts for small craft advisories and gale warnings. We have learned to take gale warnings seriously. Although we don’t have a boat that we leave in the water and we don’t venture out into the seas where the waves can be dangerous, the gate forecasts are pretty accurate in predicting windspeed along the shore as well. And even though our little bay is well protected by Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands, the wind can really rush through the Strait of Georgia and slam into Boundary Bay just north of Birch Bay.
A short walk along the shore and the bluffs at the edges of the bay gives glimpses at the power of wind and water. Huge tree trunks are scattered on the beaches around here and on the bluffs at the south end of our bay at Point Whitehorn there are trees that have been twisted into amazing shapes by the power of the wind. The twists and turns of the tree trunks tell an amazing story about the winds that have blown against the bluffs for thousands of years.
The stretch of coast from Birch Bay down to Lummi bay is a pretty amazing bit of coastline that has much to each us about the Salish Sea, its resources, and fragile ecology. That stretch of gravel beach is about 20 miles long. There are a few private homes at the southern end of the area at Neptune Beach and Sandy Point, but most of the area is undeveloped except for three large industrial facilities. There are two oil refineries and an aluminum plant all within a ten mile stretch. Although the aluminum plant is now shut down, all three have extensive docks that extend into the water and the refineries have facilities for unloading large tankers bringing crude oil down from Alaska.
Most of the coastline is part of what is known as the Cherry Point Aquatic Reserve, a state owned area designated as a reserve to preserve the unique ecosystem. This area was once the most productive Pacific herring spawning area in the Pacific Northwest. Herring feed on plankton and become food for several larger fish, birds, and mammals. Their presence attracts five species of salmon (Chum, Coho, Pink, Chinook, and Sockeye). The salmon enter the saltwater from freshwater streams soon after hatching and use the region to acclimate to the sea before traveling far offshore. Marine mammals including Orca whales, Dall’s porpoise, Stellar sea lions, California sea ;opens and harbor seals frequent the reserve. The shorelines along the Reserve provide nesting, breeding, feeding, and resting grounds for many species of birds including the Great Blue Heron. One of the largest heron rookeries in the state is at Birch Bay State Park just down the hill from our home.
There is a trail from Point Whitehorn that gives access to the beach from our Bay to the Cherry Point Refinery. The high bluffs and rocky beaches provide a narrow band next to the waters, which are very deep close to shore, a stark contrast with our shallow bay. The deeper waters circulate and provide warmth for nutrients that come to the surface making the area very productive not only with offshore species but also a great place to look at tidal pools to see sea stars and other invertebrates as well as extensive aquatic vegetation including many types of kelp.
Getting to the shore involves a short walk through old growth forest. Walking among the forest giants is always a treat.
We have been privileged with access to incredible natural places in each home we have inhabited. Coming to the coast is no exception and we are amazed at how a short walk can not only provide much needed exercise but also nurture our spirits. As we walked down to the reserve yesterday we talked about how this was different from our walks in the Ponderosa pine and Black Hills spruce forests of our South Dakota home and different from the lodgepole stands of our Montana home. Each place we have lived is unique which means that one of the blessings of retirement for us is the opportunity to get to know a new place. How fortunate we are.
The story has many other memorable characters and complexities that really beyond the scope of this journal entry, but one character stands out. Mrs Bale, played by Janet Henfrey, is the housekeeper of Lionel’s father’s country home which Lionel occasional visits and eventually inherits. Mrs. Bale seems to belong to the property and so she continues to serve Lionel after his father’s death. The story doesn’t go into much of her story, but viewers quickly learn two things about her. She follows Australian rules football and she keeps up with the shipping forecast and can quote the forecast word for word as advice to anyone who listens about being prepared for the weather.
I used to watch the program and laugh with the scenarios presented, including Mrs. Bale’s uncanny accuracy with forecasts based on the shipping forecast. Being a resident of the center of the North American continent, I didn’t have a clue as to the shipping forecast, but assumed that it was a bit like the detailed forecasts available to pilots by the National Weather Services Aviation Weather Center.
Now I live near the coast and as far as I know we don’t have access to a shipping forecast, but the weather applications on our phones have alerts for small craft advisories and gale warnings. We have learned to take gale warnings seriously. Although we don’t have a boat that we leave in the water and we don’t venture out into the seas where the waves can be dangerous, the gate forecasts are pretty accurate in predicting windspeed along the shore as well. And even though our little bay is well protected by Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands, the wind can really rush through the Strait of Georgia and slam into Boundary Bay just north of Birch Bay.
A short walk along the shore and the bluffs at the edges of the bay gives glimpses at the power of wind and water. Huge tree trunks are scattered on the beaches around here and on the bluffs at the south end of our bay at Point Whitehorn there are trees that have been twisted into amazing shapes by the power of the wind. The twists and turns of the tree trunks tell an amazing story about the winds that have blown against the bluffs for thousands of years.
The stretch of coast from Birch Bay down to Lummi bay is a pretty amazing bit of coastline that has much to each us about the Salish Sea, its resources, and fragile ecology. That stretch of gravel beach is about 20 miles long. There are a few private homes at the southern end of the area at Neptune Beach and Sandy Point, but most of the area is undeveloped except for three large industrial facilities. There are two oil refineries and an aluminum plant all within a ten mile stretch. Although the aluminum plant is now shut down, all three have extensive docks that extend into the water and the refineries have facilities for unloading large tankers bringing crude oil down from Alaska.
Most of the coastline is part of what is known as the Cherry Point Aquatic Reserve, a state owned area designated as a reserve to preserve the unique ecosystem. This area was once the most productive Pacific herring spawning area in the Pacific Northwest. Herring feed on plankton and become food for several larger fish, birds, and mammals. Their presence attracts five species of salmon (Chum, Coho, Pink, Chinook, and Sockeye). The salmon enter the saltwater from freshwater streams soon after hatching and use the region to acclimate to the sea before traveling far offshore. Marine mammals including Orca whales, Dall’s porpoise, Stellar sea lions, California sea ;opens and harbor seals frequent the reserve. The shorelines along the Reserve provide nesting, breeding, feeding, and resting grounds for many species of birds including the Great Blue Heron. One of the largest heron rookeries in the state is at Birch Bay State Park just down the hill from our home.
There is a trail from Point Whitehorn that gives access to the beach from our Bay to the Cherry Point Refinery. The high bluffs and rocky beaches provide a narrow band next to the waters, which are very deep close to shore, a stark contrast with our shallow bay. The deeper waters circulate and provide warmth for nutrients that come to the surface making the area very productive not only with offshore species but also a great place to look at tidal pools to see sea stars and other invertebrates as well as extensive aquatic vegetation including many types of kelp.
Getting to the shore involves a short walk through old growth forest. Walking among the forest giants is always a treat.
We have been privileged with access to incredible natural places in each home we have inhabited. Coming to the coast is no exception and we are amazed at how a short walk can not only provide much needed exercise but also nurture our spirits. As we walked down to the reserve yesterday we talked about how this was different from our walks in the Ponderosa pine and Black Hills spruce forests of our South Dakota home and different from the lodgepole stands of our Montana home. Each place we have lived is unique which means that one of the blessings of retirement for us is the opportunity to get to know a new place. How fortunate we are.
Rainbows
26/09/24 00:09
We have been privileged to live in some very beautiful places. In each place we have lived we have had access to the natural world and the ability to appreciate the outdoors. And each place was unique. There have been differences in the places we have lived that we noticed right away. In Chicago, the lakeshore provided a definite end to the city that was accessible to us. We could walk to the shore and put the city behind us. It was an important part of the city for this country boy who thrived in the academic atmosphere of the school, but wrestled with urban living. It seemed to be that we were constantly surrounded by locked doors and that our space was so small. Our tiny efficiency apartment reminded us constantly that we were in a place with a lot of other people. But the lakeshore gave us access to open space and places that were not filled with people. North Dakota gave us the gift of wide open spaces. Idaho gave us access to the mountains without living in the mountains. I was amazed that I could mow my lawn and go skiing in the same day. South Dakota surrounded us with the Black Hills and warmed us with milder winters than our North Dakota days. And here we walk to the seashore and cross an international border in just minutes.
There are other changes that come with moves that take time for me to notice. I remember walking down the street in Boise, Idaho one day and thinking, “The wind never blows here.” I think I had lived there for more than a year and suddenly I began to miss the wind. I never fully adjusted to living in a place that isn’t very windy. When we moved from Idaho to South Dakota I would go outside and stand facing into the wind and feel gratitude for fresh air.
Yesterday was a drizzly and rainy day most of the day here. The forecast predicted a let up in the rain in the late afternoon and so we planned to walk than, but as the time approached the forecast changed and we resolved to walk in the rain. We dressed in our rain gear, but it wasn’t raining hard and when we got to the beach we turned and looked back up the hill and were greeted by a full rainbow over the beach houses. It was glorious. And I realized that we don’t get to see many rainbows in this place.
You might think that we’d see a lot of rainbows. After all it rains quite a bit here. But the rain here is different. I’ve lived a lot of my life on the east slope of hills and mountains. For most of the summer in those places the cumulus clouds build over the mountains during the warm afternoons and late in the afternoon the tops reach up into the upper atmosphere and are pushed off to the east by the jet stream. Underneath those clouds we got a regular dose of thunder and lightning, rain and hail before they blew off to the east. When they did, the sky turned very dark to the east, but the Sun appeared as it set in the west and the low light angle combined with the contrast of sun in one direction and cloud in the other. The light traveling through the water vapor in the air painted dramatic rainbows on the dark clouds. Rainbows are a real challenge to photograph. My friend Johnny Sundby is a professional photographer who got good at capturing images of rainbows and he took several photographs, including on with a rainbow stretching over the outdoor cross at our church, that I love.
Here, however, we have days when it is cloudy from east to west and north to south and we get rain without rainbows. Like the wind I missed when we lived in Idaho, I realized yesterday that I miss the rainbows.
Rainbows, of course have been important symbols for our people for thousands of years. Our forebears saw rainbows as signs of God’s promise and each one reminded them that God promised not to end all life with judgment and destruction after a great flood that caused people to fear extinction. Our people were telling that story to our children for thousands of years before Jesus was born and we’ve been telling it ever since as well.
Rainbows always make me think of our dear friend Shirley. It was about this time of the year when she died suddenly. She had spent the day preparing for a special trip, going to the travel agent and purchasing tickets to travel from her home in Australia to Greece for the destination wedding of her grandson. And then a vessel in her brain burst and she collapsed. She was rushed to the hospital but never regained consciousness. As we mourned her death, we remembered how much she loved rainbows and we began to see her and her daughter who had preceded her in death in every rainbow that we saw. Rainbows became a sign for us that life does not end with death. The presence of these two beloved continued to shape our lives and rainbows reminded us of a truth we had discovered in the seasons of grief.
And so I thought of Shirley and Leanne as I stood with my back to the sea delighting in the brilliance of the rainbow. Gratitude for the beauty I was beholding blended with gratitude for the people who have shaped my life with grace and love. God is present in all of creation and God is love. The rainbow is a gift that seems even more precious in this place where there are days when I miss the rainbows of prairie thunderstorms. Rainbows may be less common here than there, but God’s presence is as real and as available here as any other place.
As the years pass my memories become richer and fuller as I add experience upon experience. The list of loving people who precede me in death becomes longer and longer. I know that I am not separated from them, but part of that long line of mortal humans. One day my time will come, but for now I can delight in the gift of rainbows and memories and the loved ones with whom I share both.
Proud Papa
25/09/24 01:13
OK. I am just going to say it. I am so incredibly proud of our son that I can’t keep it in. I am, as they say, bursting my buttons. I know that hubris is a sin. I know that pride goeth before a fall. But I just can’t help myself.
To be clear both of our children have given us many, many opportunities to be proud of them. We’ve been witness to first steps, first bicycle rides, first days of schools of many different types, and first born children. We’ve been the proud parents at ballet recitals and band concerts and pageants and graduations. We’ve watched two infants turn into adults with loving marriages and families. There have been a lot of reasons to be proud and the surge of pride welling up within me is not exactly an unfamiliar set of feelings.
On Saturday, however, there will be a celebration of a different type. The vision of the Mount Vernon Library Commons project has become a reality. When our son made a not altogether planned transition from the corporate world of directing a major hospital chain’s libraries and information services to the political world of small town city government as the new director of the Mount Vernon Library, the Mayor and members of the Library Board were clear that they wanted to build a new library. It also was clear that they didn’t know how to make such a building happen. Floating a bond issue before voters was unlikely to gain the supermajority needed to increase property taxes and use debit to finance a new city building. There were so many hurdles that would need to be cleared. There was the question of where a new building might be constructed, what would be done with the old building. How to manage the transition if a new library would be built on the site of the old one seemed daunting.
At that time, the city was nearing completion of a major multi-year infrastructure project. A series of flood walls were being constructed that would change the insurance ratings of the entire downtown business core. It was an ambitious project and dependent on a large amount of federal financing and had required a lot of political maneuvering by the mayor and city council. More than a few members of the community were tired from all of the effort of the largest infrastructure project in the history of the city. It seemed as if there was little energy left over for a new library.
They didn’t start with building plans. They didn’t start by describing a dream library. They started by asking the citizens of the community what they wanted. There was a long list. A new library was on the list, but perhaps not the highest priority. Members of the community wanted economic development, an improved downtown, a conference center, a place for community members to gather, improved transit, and they wanted to address climate change and the threat of environmental disaster. They were worried about problems of integrating new community members, some of whom were immigrants with different languages and cultures. They saw the effects of addiction and homelessness on their streets every day. They were a small town with a wide variety of needs and visions.
Our son listened very carefully to the community he had been called to serve. Among the hopes and dreams of the future were stories about the past. He heard about how the city library had been formed before the city government was organized. Citizens wanted a place of learning and study. They were willing to share books and they needed safe spaces to read and discuss what they had read. It became clear to him and to others that if their community was to get a new library, the library would need to go beyond being a collection of books in a building.
Collecting the community vision, a new possibility emerged. The new library might feature a commercial incubator kitchen, a large EV charging station, expanded meeting space and dedicated areas for youth and for citizens. The price tag of all of the possibilities for a new facility began to mount beyond anything that had ever been attempted.
While plans emerged and changed, our son was growing the library in its present location. The children’s library and children’s services began to expand. The small town library became the largest and best programmed children’s library north of Seattle. The staff of the library’s growing in size and in diversity. Additional speakers of Spanish were recruited. Careful research was conducted on how to obtain a collection of Ukrainian language books. All along the way the voices of community members were taken seriously.
Then Covid hit. The library was forced to make adjustments. With their building closed they had to develop a system of safely getting resources to people. Online programs needed to be developed. The city parking lot across the street from the library building needed to become a free wi-fi hotspot and the library began to allow people to have tablet computers delivered to their cars so children who didn’t have internet access at home could complete schoolwork.
The vision of the community had to be merged with the real limitations they found. The price tag of the new combined community services center, which became known as the Library Commons, reached $60 million. It was the biggest single community spending ever proposed in that town. They could see their way to about half of the figure if spread out over several years.
With a lot of encouragement, the library foundation, which would be required to invest heavily and the city council began to come on board with some enthusiasm for the project. A few key individuals began to explore funding sources. In the end the project is being completed with roughly $20 million in local funding, $20 million in state funding, and $20 million in federal funding. It has been accomplished without raising local taxes.
Saturday we will be present when they cut the ribbon on a building that is literally writing the book on energy efficiency. They will be offering their community as many electric vehicle charging stations as the number of gas pumps in the city. They will cut the ribbon on the first vertical structure ever to be finished to the Department of Transportation’s standards for structural steel. They will be cutting the ribbon on a city space with bike lockers, bike racks and bike and scooter chargers. And they will be cutting the ribbon of a new era of what a library is and what a library can do.
I’m going to be there in the crowd, as proud as a father can be. I’m pleased with the new building and the expanded vision. I’m ecstatic about a son who is willing to invest so much in building community and serving those who have been underserved. If one were able to choose a family legacy, community and service are not a bad combination.
For more information on the Mount Vernon Library Commons, check out this article published in the Salish Current.
To be clear both of our children have given us many, many opportunities to be proud of them. We’ve been witness to first steps, first bicycle rides, first days of schools of many different types, and first born children. We’ve been the proud parents at ballet recitals and band concerts and pageants and graduations. We’ve watched two infants turn into adults with loving marriages and families. There have been a lot of reasons to be proud and the surge of pride welling up within me is not exactly an unfamiliar set of feelings.
On Saturday, however, there will be a celebration of a different type. The vision of the Mount Vernon Library Commons project has become a reality. When our son made a not altogether planned transition from the corporate world of directing a major hospital chain’s libraries and information services to the political world of small town city government as the new director of the Mount Vernon Library, the Mayor and members of the Library Board were clear that they wanted to build a new library. It also was clear that they didn’t know how to make such a building happen. Floating a bond issue before voters was unlikely to gain the supermajority needed to increase property taxes and use debit to finance a new city building. There were so many hurdles that would need to be cleared. There was the question of where a new building might be constructed, what would be done with the old building. How to manage the transition if a new library would be built on the site of the old one seemed daunting.
At that time, the city was nearing completion of a major multi-year infrastructure project. A series of flood walls were being constructed that would change the insurance ratings of the entire downtown business core. It was an ambitious project and dependent on a large amount of federal financing and had required a lot of political maneuvering by the mayor and city council. More than a few members of the community were tired from all of the effort of the largest infrastructure project in the history of the city. It seemed as if there was little energy left over for a new library.
They didn’t start with building plans. They didn’t start by describing a dream library. They started by asking the citizens of the community what they wanted. There was a long list. A new library was on the list, but perhaps not the highest priority. Members of the community wanted economic development, an improved downtown, a conference center, a place for community members to gather, improved transit, and they wanted to address climate change and the threat of environmental disaster. They were worried about problems of integrating new community members, some of whom were immigrants with different languages and cultures. They saw the effects of addiction and homelessness on their streets every day. They were a small town with a wide variety of needs and visions.
Our son listened very carefully to the community he had been called to serve. Among the hopes and dreams of the future were stories about the past. He heard about how the city library had been formed before the city government was organized. Citizens wanted a place of learning and study. They were willing to share books and they needed safe spaces to read and discuss what they had read. It became clear to him and to others that if their community was to get a new library, the library would need to go beyond being a collection of books in a building.
Collecting the community vision, a new possibility emerged. The new library might feature a commercial incubator kitchen, a large EV charging station, expanded meeting space and dedicated areas for youth and for citizens. The price tag of all of the possibilities for a new facility began to mount beyond anything that had ever been attempted.
While plans emerged and changed, our son was growing the library in its present location. The children’s library and children’s services began to expand. The small town library became the largest and best programmed children’s library north of Seattle. The staff of the library’s growing in size and in diversity. Additional speakers of Spanish were recruited. Careful research was conducted on how to obtain a collection of Ukrainian language books. All along the way the voices of community members were taken seriously.
Then Covid hit. The library was forced to make adjustments. With their building closed they had to develop a system of safely getting resources to people. Online programs needed to be developed. The city parking lot across the street from the library building needed to become a free wi-fi hotspot and the library began to allow people to have tablet computers delivered to their cars so children who didn’t have internet access at home could complete schoolwork.
The vision of the community had to be merged with the real limitations they found. The price tag of the new combined community services center, which became known as the Library Commons, reached $60 million. It was the biggest single community spending ever proposed in that town. They could see their way to about half of the figure if spread out over several years.
With a lot of encouragement, the library foundation, which would be required to invest heavily and the city council began to come on board with some enthusiasm for the project. A few key individuals began to explore funding sources. In the end the project is being completed with roughly $20 million in local funding, $20 million in state funding, and $20 million in federal funding. It has been accomplished without raising local taxes.
Saturday we will be present when they cut the ribbon on a building that is literally writing the book on energy efficiency. They will be offering their community as many electric vehicle charging stations as the number of gas pumps in the city. They will cut the ribbon on the first vertical structure ever to be finished to the Department of Transportation’s standards for structural steel. They will be cutting the ribbon on a city space with bike lockers, bike racks and bike and scooter chargers. And they will be cutting the ribbon of a new era of what a library is and what a library can do.
I’m going to be there in the crowd, as proud as a father can be. I’m pleased with the new building and the expanded vision. I’m ecstatic about a son who is willing to invest so much in building community and serving those who have been underserved. If one were able to choose a family legacy, community and service are not a bad combination.
For more information on the Mount Vernon Library Commons, check out this article published in the Salish Current.
Color
24/09/24 00:34
One of the stories that I tell over and over again is about how our family was one of the last families in our town to have a television set. My parents were reluctant to get a set and didn’t see the benefit of such an expense. Once many years later when I was an adult, my mother told me that they finally decided to purchase a television because we children were all watching television in the homes of our friends and neighbors and they decided that having a set in the home would give them more control over what we saw. When we first got out set, it was turned on for the Lawrence Welk show on Sunday evening and that was about it for a while. Soon, however, my father was watching the news after dinner nearly every night. We may have been one of the last families in our town to get a television set, but we were one of the first families in our town to get a color television. In reality, color television had been available for some time before we got one. The first color television sets cost $1,000 which was a lot at the time. We got our color television set because our father purchased and built a Heathkit. This was before digital tuning. The analogue set was nearly impossible to tune and once a station was obtained the process of color balancing took a long and complex series of steps. We didn’t really see full color on that set. At first it was just black and white television with green and orange instead of black and white. The goal of our television watching was Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, a show that aired on Sunday afternoons. The show was aired on NBC, which used its new peacock logo to promote the fact that the network had begun to broadcast in color.
The technology of color broadcasting was relatively slow to develop. In the early days, much of the content of television and movies was produced on film before it was translated into broadcast media. And the technology of color film was complex and expensive. Even decades later, when I was in college and graduate school, color photography was significantly more expensive than black and white photography. As a student, I first learned to process and print black and white film and later learned the Kodak E-6 process for developing Ektachrome color transparency film to make color slides. The E-6 process involved a lot more chemicals and a lot more expense, and there was some risk of error involved. The summer we completed seminary, we traveled in Europe with my parents and I purchased and exposed a 100’ roll of Ektachrome film. When we returned I processed the film, which I had rolled into cassettes to use in my camera. Later, when I digitized those old slides I was able to make some color shifts using a computer program, but the color has never been really true to what our eyes perceived.
I never did learn the much more difficult and chemical intensive KL-14 process for developing Kodachrome film. The KL-14 process when done by a professional laboratory rendered more accurate depictions of reds than E-6. This was due to the different layers of film with different color sensitivities. When the KL-14 process is employed, the film is re exposed to red light from the bottom and blue light from the top at different times between developers and washes.
Now with digital cameras and editing software on my computer, I am able to obtain colors that are more brilliant than I was able to create with film photography, even when I had the film developed and printed by a professional laboratory. My photos, however, are still a bit disappointing to me. At least the colors are not the way my eyes perceive color when I am looking at the world. My vision can detect more subtleties and blends of color than come out in the photographs that I take.
Artists have struggled with color for as long as humans have tried to create images of the world around them. We see beauty and want to retain it, but what we see is always framed by the passage of time. The sky is constantly changing. The light is constantly changing. I’ve taken thousands of pictures of sunrises and sunsets over water and each one is different from all the others. And the photographs don’t come close to capturing the diversity and brilliance of color that exists in the world as interpreted by my eyes and brain. I imagine that artists who paint with pigment continue to learn about mixing color but never feel that they have achieved what their eyes can see.
We walked down to the beach a bit later than usual yesterday. Our day had been filled with some extra grandparent duties as our son and his wife took their youngest down to Seattle for a medical appointment. We got the older children off to school in the morning and were back at the farm to meet the bus after school. The oldest is enrolled in a family partnership program at the school that involves home schooling and classroom work. He was home yesterday, so we helped with his math and chemistry. As a result we didn’t get down to the beach until the sun was setting. It wasn’t a dramatic sunset as the day had been overcast. There were still plenty of clouds in the sky as we watched the sun slip behind the islands across the bay. I took a few photographs, but when I look at them on the computer monitor they lack the subtle pinks and purples that we saw.
As strong as is our instinct to capture experiences, our photographs are imperfect reflections and mere reminders of actual experience. As a result, I have learned not to try to photograph everything. Some days I just look at beauty, knowing that I am not able to capture it. I dwell in the experience of the moment rather than imagine that I might make it last. There are times when I need to set aside the camera in order to experience the fullness of color and life.
Where we work
23/09/24 01:08
Our first job after completing graduate school was serving two small congregations in southwestern North Dakota. Part of the compensation package for the work was the use of a parsonage. We moved from a one bedroom efficiency apartment to a three bedroom home with a finished basement including a bathroom upstairs and another in the basement. Neither of the church buildings that housed the congregations we served had offices. They consisted of a sanctuary, a fellowship hall, a kitchen and restrooms. One of the church buildings had two small classrooms at the end of the fellowship hall. We were a couple with no children when we began our work. It was easy for us to turn one of the bedrooms in the parsonage into a study where we did our reading and writing. The church did not own any office equipment. We owned a manual typewriter and a small desk. I put bookshelves on the walls. We didn’t own much furniture when we moved in, so the rooms were pretty empty. We had a desk phone, wired to the wall in the study; a princess phone, also wired, in the bedroom; and a wall phone in the kitchen. Almost as soon as we moved in we added two features that enhanced communication. We had a 25 foot cord for the wall phone so that the handset could be carried around the house while we were speaking. We had the ringer removed from the princess phone in the bedroom so that we could use it without having it ring right next to where we were sleeping. It was easy to hear the other phones ringing from the bedroom.
That was 1978. There was no national debate about working from home. Most of our colleagues had offices or studies in their homes. Only a few, who worked in larger congregations, had offices in their churches. I had been an intern in a large church where we had offices at the church, but I had commuted 25 miles to that suburban church while living in the city. I needed a place to serve as a base for my work there.
Over the course of the next seven years, two children came into our lives. We turned the home study into a child’s bedroom and moved some of its functions to a room in the basement. We also turned one of the small classrooms in the church building next door into a church office. The church acquired an electric typewriter which we used for preparing bulletins, committee minutes, reports, and other church business.
In our next call, there was a church office. In that church building there was a clerical office with a part-time secretary on the main level of the church. and a pastor’s study in the basement below. The church had a typewriter and a photocopy machine. After a decade of serving that church, we had turned the parlor into a church office with temporary dividers delineating the space for the secretary, two desks for pastors, and another for the education director. There was also a general work space with a table for collating and folding bulletins and reports. We obtained a personal computer at our home, and the church obtained its first computer and printer during the time we serve it.
The job of a pastor, at least the way we did the job, wasn’t primarily about being in an office, however. We visited members in hospitals, care centers, and their homes. We held church meetings in the sanctuary, in the fellowship hall, and in the church parlor.
For the first seventeen years of our professional careers we shared a single job between us, so the distinction between home life and work was a flexible barrier. We worked from home if the job was preparing sermons or studying scripture and theology. We worked from the church if the business was teaching, meetings, or administration. We worked from wherever we were if the task was pastoral care and counseling.
For the next twenty-five years, we lived ten miles from the church building and we both had very comfortable offices at the church. We also had more secretarial support in that position. The church had a couple of personal computers when we began and by the time we left it had a network with a shared server and printer, high speed wi-fi throughout the building, and I had a laptop computer provided by the church for most of the time in that position. We still maintained a home office and both of us did some of our work from home.
In the terms of today’s employment patterns, we were hybrid workers throughout our active careers. We worked from home part of the time and from an office part of the time.
All of that was before the pandemic. We retired during the first summer of the pandemic as businesses around the world were switching from workers in office buildings to employees working from home. Meetings, including church meetings, moved from in-person to computer video conferencing. People began to purchase homes that were in different locations than the companies that employed them. There are remote workers who don’t live in the same state or even the same nation as the companies for which they work.
Some large corporations have announced an end to remote and hybrid working. Amazon is ordering its staff back into the office five days a week. Goldman Sachs also requires bankers to be in the office five days per week. Tesla and Space-X have also required workers to return to the office. Space-X is reported to have lost 15% of senior-level employees over its decision to prohibit remote working.
Studies on worker efficiency are mixed. There have been some that have shown increased productivity among remote and home workers. Other studies have not replicated the results. Some have shown greater collaboration and creativity among workers who report to the office each day. Some have shown that remote meetings result in shorter meetings and more efficiency. There are companies experimenting with four day work weeks and other structures for work/life balance. Some countries have limited the amount of electronic messages and meetings employers can demand of workers when they are not in the office.
I suspect that like the work we did during our careers, there is no one size fits all solution to the question of where an employee works and how the barrier between working and time off is maintained.
Meanwhile, there are plenty of jobs that cannot be done from home. Surgeons need to work in hospitals. Fire fighters need to go to the fires they fight. Law enforcement officers need to be available throughout a community. Many service providers need to work in the place of service.
And I have retired. The front room of our home, that might have been a dining room or living room for previous occupants has a desk with my computer and shelves for our books. I no longer draw a salary, but I still do work that is meaningful. And I no longer have an office to go to. Some times it feels like returning to the way it was when I began, just with high speed internet and wireless phones.
That was 1978. There was no national debate about working from home. Most of our colleagues had offices or studies in their homes. Only a few, who worked in larger congregations, had offices in their churches. I had been an intern in a large church where we had offices at the church, but I had commuted 25 miles to that suburban church while living in the city. I needed a place to serve as a base for my work there.
Over the course of the next seven years, two children came into our lives. We turned the home study into a child’s bedroom and moved some of its functions to a room in the basement. We also turned one of the small classrooms in the church building next door into a church office. The church acquired an electric typewriter which we used for preparing bulletins, committee minutes, reports, and other church business.
In our next call, there was a church office. In that church building there was a clerical office with a part-time secretary on the main level of the church. and a pastor’s study in the basement below. The church had a typewriter and a photocopy machine. After a decade of serving that church, we had turned the parlor into a church office with temporary dividers delineating the space for the secretary, two desks for pastors, and another for the education director. There was also a general work space with a table for collating and folding bulletins and reports. We obtained a personal computer at our home, and the church obtained its first computer and printer during the time we serve it.
The job of a pastor, at least the way we did the job, wasn’t primarily about being in an office, however. We visited members in hospitals, care centers, and their homes. We held church meetings in the sanctuary, in the fellowship hall, and in the church parlor.
For the first seventeen years of our professional careers we shared a single job between us, so the distinction between home life and work was a flexible barrier. We worked from home if the job was preparing sermons or studying scripture and theology. We worked from the church if the business was teaching, meetings, or administration. We worked from wherever we were if the task was pastoral care and counseling.
For the next twenty-five years, we lived ten miles from the church building and we both had very comfortable offices at the church. We also had more secretarial support in that position. The church had a couple of personal computers when we began and by the time we left it had a network with a shared server and printer, high speed wi-fi throughout the building, and I had a laptop computer provided by the church for most of the time in that position. We still maintained a home office and both of us did some of our work from home.
In the terms of today’s employment patterns, we were hybrid workers throughout our active careers. We worked from home part of the time and from an office part of the time.
All of that was before the pandemic. We retired during the first summer of the pandemic as businesses around the world were switching from workers in office buildings to employees working from home. Meetings, including church meetings, moved from in-person to computer video conferencing. People began to purchase homes that were in different locations than the companies that employed them. There are remote workers who don’t live in the same state or even the same nation as the companies for which they work.
Some large corporations have announced an end to remote and hybrid working. Amazon is ordering its staff back into the office five days a week. Goldman Sachs also requires bankers to be in the office five days per week. Tesla and Space-X have also required workers to return to the office. Space-X is reported to have lost 15% of senior-level employees over its decision to prohibit remote working.
Studies on worker efficiency are mixed. There have been some that have shown increased productivity among remote and home workers. Other studies have not replicated the results. Some have shown greater collaboration and creativity among workers who report to the office each day. Some have shown that remote meetings result in shorter meetings and more efficiency. There are companies experimenting with four day work weeks and other structures for work/life balance. Some countries have limited the amount of electronic messages and meetings employers can demand of workers when they are not in the office.
I suspect that like the work we did during our careers, there is no one size fits all solution to the question of where an employee works and how the barrier between working and time off is maintained.
Meanwhile, there are plenty of jobs that cannot be done from home. Surgeons need to work in hospitals. Fire fighters need to go to the fires they fight. Law enforcement officers need to be available throughout a community. Many service providers need to work in the place of service.
And I have retired. The front room of our home, that might have been a dining room or living room for previous occupants has a desk with my computer and shelves for our books. I no longer draw a salary, but I still do work that is meaningful. And I no longer have an office to go to. Some times it feels like returning to the way it was when I began, just with high speed internet and wireless phones.
Reflections on health care
22/09/24 00:05
According to published statistics, I am a very fortunate person. Of course there are many reasons I am privileged, but for the sake of this journal entry, I am specially privileged because I have a family physician who sees me regularly and who serves as a coordinator of all of my health care. I’ve had different family practice physicians over the years, but I have almost always had a family medicine practitioner serving me. This makes me rare. Not everyone has such a luxury. There is a shortage of Family Practice Physicians in North America. In Canada and the United States there simply are not enough family practice doctors to serve the need. The dynamics and reasons for the shortage are somewhat different in the two countries because Canada has a single payer government health care system and the United States has a for-profit health care system.
One of the reasons for the shortage in the United States is that medical education is financed by enormous amounts of debt and family medicine is not the most lucrative medical specialty. Doctors compete for residencies in specialties that pay well enough for them to pay back the debt they have incurred in their education. This dynamic is further exacerbated because in the US health care system, pay is based on procedures performed, not on the health of patients seen or treated. Insurance companies pay for procedures.
To make a lot of money, a physician has to perform a lot of procedures. The specialties that produce the most income for doctors are those in which the most procedures are performed. A single gastroenterologist can perform a lot of colonoscopies in a single day. Perhaps that is why there are more colonoscopies performed in the US than would be expected if the American Cancer Society’s guidelines were strictly followed. If you take the total population of he US between the ages to 45 and 85, when colon screening is recommended, follow the guidelines for the spacing between procedures to get the total, the number needed is far less than the number actually performed.
Other specialties where a lot of procedures are performed are also lucrative. Surgeons of all types perform procedures. Urologists perform a lot of procedures. Roughly half of the physical space of the urology practice where I am seen is devoted to outpatient surgery. I suspect that roughly half of the physicians’ time is performing procedures.
The physical shortage also has to do with the style of education, the failure of medical schools to admit enough students to meet the demand, and a host of other factors. There is no simple explanation for a very complex shortage. The result, however, is very real. There are not enough family practice physicians to serve the need.
That shortage has produced a unique program in Ontario. In a unique partnership, Queen’s University and Lakeridge Health launched a brand-new medical school a year ago with a unique curriculum, focus, clinical rotation structure, and more. The Queens-Lakeridge Health MD Family Medical Program admitted 20 students in the fall of 2023 and just admitted 20 more. Positions in the program are limited to students dedicated to pursuing Family Medicine as a specialty. Postgraduate residency positions are assured for all students, meaning that they do not need to participate in the highly competitive Canadian Resident Matching Service program. Students stay in the same cohort until they have fully completed their formal education and have graduated as Family Medicine Physicians.
Obviously a small program, graduating only 20 physicians each year will not make a significant change in the overall shortage. However, physicians in the program are guaranteed placement in southeastern Ontario following graduation. 20 new physicians per year in a small targeted area will make a significant change in that area. The proponents of the program hope that it will provide a model for many more similar programs across Canada.
The program also offers financial assistance for students for expenses related to applying to medical school including a waiver of application fees and financial assistance for the fees associated with taking the Medical College Admissions Test (MCAT) required for all schools accredited by the Association of American Medical Colleges.
The vision and innovation in this program is impressive. Simply being able to launch a new medical college is a significant undertaking. It doesn’t occur in North America very often. However, part of the solution to physical shortages is to increase the number of openings in medical schools. Because medical schools receive significant federal funding, perhaps it would be possible to make some of those funds contingent on the school making a measurable commitment to increasing enrollment. It is only one of many possible ideas about how to bring about a shift in healthcare.
From now until the election there will be plenty of rhetoric bandied about health care, but very few actual, practical policies and programs will be discussed in significant ways. It is one of the disappointments of our current political process. Candidates are far more interested in sound bytes than in substance, and unfortunately, voters seem to be swayed more buy sound bytes.
Regardless of what the candidates may or may not say, it is interesting for me to be living right on the border with a country that has a different health care system. Canada’s system is far from perfect, but there are some parts of the system that work differently and sometimes better for people. By seeing health care as a right instead of a commodity, there is more access to health care for many. Affordability isn’t the primary barrier to health care in Canada and there may be less discrimination based on class or income. However, there are shortages in the system and the shortage of family care physicians is similar to that in the United States. It will be interesting to observe the Queen’s-Lakeridge Health MD Family Medicine Program in the years to come. Perhaps it will be imitated in other regions of Canada. Vancouver would be a good place for a similar program.
In the meantime, I am fortunate to have an excellent family care physician who happened to be taking on new patients at the time I moved to this area. Were I searching for one right now, I might not be as successful. Like other health insurance programs, mine is oriented to procedures not overall health. I, on the other hand, think health is more important and wish for a system that based rewards for providers on health outcomes instead of procedures performed. In the meantime, I suppose I’ll be the subject of more procedures in the foreseeable future.
One of the reasons for the shortage in the United States is that medical education is financed by enormous amounts of debt and family medicine is not the most lucrative medical specialty. Doctors compete for residencies in specialties that pay well enough for them to pay back the debt they have incurred in their education. This dynamic is further exacerbated because in the US health care system, pay is based on procedures performed, not on the health of patients seen or treated. Insurance companies pay for procedures.
To make a lot of money, a physician has to perform a lot of procedures. The specialties that produce the most income for doctors are those in which the most procedures are performed. A single gastroenterologist can perform a lot of colonoscopies in a single day. Perhaps that is why there are more colonoscopies performed in the US than would be expected if the American Cancer Society’s guidelines were strictly followed. If you take the total population of he US between the ages to 45 and 85, when colon screening is recommended, follow the guidelines for the spacing between procedures to get the total, the number needed is far less than the number actually performed.
Other specialties where a lot of procedures are performed are also lucrative. Surgeons of all types perform procedures. Urologists perform a lot of procedures. Roughly half of the physical space of the urology practice where I am seen is devoted to outpatient surgery. I suspect that roughly half of the physicians’ time is performing procedures.
The physical shortage also has to do with the style of education, the failure of medical schools to admit enough students to meet the demand, and a host of other factors. There is no simple explanation for a very complex shortage. The result, however, is very real. There are not enough family practice physicians to serve the need.
That shortage has produced a unique program in Ontario. In a unique partnership, Queen’s University and Lakeridge Health launched a brand-new medical school a year ago with a unique curriculum, focus, clinical rotation structure, and more. The Queens-Lakeridge Health MD Family Medical Program admitted 20 students in the fall of 2023 and just admitted 20 more. Positions in the program are limited to students dedicated to pursuing Family Medicine as a specialty. Postgraduate residency positions are assured for all students, meaning that they do not need to participate in the highly competitive Canadian Resident Matching Service program. Students stay in the same cohort until they have fully completed their formal education and have graduated as Family Medicine Physicians.
Obviously a small program, graduating only 20 physicians each year will not make a significant change in the overall shortage. However, physicians in the program are guaranteed placement in southeastern Ontario following graduation. 20 new physicians per year in a small targeted area will make a significant change in that area. The proponents of the program hope that it will provide a model for many more similar programs across Canada.
The program also offers financial assistance for students for expenses related to applying to medical school including a waiver of application fees and financial assistance for the fees associated with taking the Medical College Admissions Test (MCAT) required for all schools accredited by the Association of American Medical Colleges.
The vision and innovation in this program is impressive. Simply being able to launch a new medical college is a significant undertaking. It doesn’t occur in North America very often. However, part of the solution to physical shortages is to increase the number of openings in medical schools. Because medical schools receive significant federal funding, perhaps it would be possible to make some of those funds contingent on the school making a measurable commitment to increasing enrollment. It is only one of many possible ideas about how to bring about a shift in healthcare.
From now until the election there will be plenty of rhetoric bandied about health care, but very few actual, practical policies and programs will be discussed in significant ways. It is one of the disappointments of our current political process. Candidates are far more interested in sound bytes than in substance, and unfortunately, voters seem to be swayed more buy sound bytes.
Regardless of what the candidates may or may not say, it is interesting for me to be living right on the border with a country that has a different health care system. Canada’s system is far from perfect, but there are some parts of the system that work differently and sometimes better for people. By seeing health care as a right instead of a commodity, there is more access to health care for many. Affordability isn’t the primary barrier to health care in Canada and there may be less discrimination based on class or income. However, there are shortages in the system and the shortage of family care physicians is similar to that in the United States. It will be interesting to observe the Queen’s-Lakeridge Health MD Family Medicine Program in the years to come. Perhaps it will be imitated in other regions of Canada. Vancouver would be a good place for a similar program.
In the meantime, I am fortunate to have an excellent family care physician who happened to be taking on new patients at the time I moved to this area. Were I searching for one right now, I might not be as successful. Like other health insurance programs, mine is oriented to procedures not overall health. I, on the other hand, think health is more important and wish for a system that based rewards for providers on health outcomes instead of procedures performed. In the meantime, I suppose I’ll be the subject of more procedures in the foreseeable future.
Real luxury
21/09/24 01:44
According to the Five Star Alliance, a Five-star hotel offers guests “the highest levels of luxury through personalized services, a vast range of amenities, and sophisticated accommodations.” I think that the term “five-star” comes from ratings given by travel guides. The old Mobil Travel Guides rated restaurants, hotels, spas, and cruise ships by awarding stars on a scale of one to five, with five being the highest level of luxury and service. Those guides are now called Forbes Travel Guide and the guide only reports on Hotels that have earned four or five stars.
I’m not a five-star kind of person. When we travel, we prefer to stay with friends or in our own camper. When we do stay in a hotel, we often seek out small, unique, and maybe even a bit run-down properties. Over the years, we have found small motels with just a few rooms that have hand-made quilts, unique decor, and charm. We’ve also spent a few nights in places that were a little too run-down and in need of repair. A couple of times we’ve stayed in places that we would not return to for a second night. However, there have been many more that were delightful surprises.
When we traveled in Europe we stayed with friends or at Youth Hostels. When we traveled in Japan we sought out small hotels that were uniquely Japanese.
I’ve never owned a copy of the Forbes Guide and I don’t use one in selecting a place to stay.
When we traveled in Japan, we found hotels that provided Yukatas. A Yukata is a cotton kimono that can be used for walking to and from the onsen. A westerner used to private bathing, I never got up the courage to visit an onsen, and I certainly would not feel comfortable going out in public wearing just a yukata. I tried them on, wearing them only in our private room. Slippers are common amenities in Japanese hotel rooms, where shoes are always removed at the door.
A five-star hotel, however, offers bathrobes, slippers, luxury toiletries, and large fluffy towels. We expect clean towels, but “large” and “fluffy” are not accurate descriptors of the institutional whites found in the places we stay. I’ve occasionally stayed in hotels that have stocked mini-bars, but avoided using any of the contents because of the prices. Five-star hotels often offer free-mini bars. There are also ones that offer fresh flowers and even house plants that you can take home after your stay.
There are other amenities that are offered in five-star hotels, including a lot of hotel staff that I prefer to avoid, if possible. I really don’t need valet parking, a butler, a doorman, 24-hour concierge, or nightly turn-down service. I don’t know the customs about tipping service personnel and find that simply providing my own service is more comfortable for me. Five star hotels might have on call medical staff, luggage storage, executive limousine service, free newspapers (OK, I remember when people used to red paper newspapers. We used to subscribe to daily newspapers. And I don’t really think of USA Today as a real newspaper.)
I’m no expert on thread counts for sheets and am not sure I could identify a memory foam bed if I laid on one.
I simply don’t need a five-star guide because I have a different standard for luxury travel. I’ve had the luxury of home cooked meals and by that I don’t mean meals cooked in a commercial kitchen that have fancy ingredients and a lot of butter. I mean real meals cooked at home with regular groceries just like we eat at home. Burgers straight off of a backyard grill taste better to me than anything offered from an institutional kitchen.
I travel with the luxury of my own toothbrush and the brand of toothpaste I prefer. I sleep in my own pajamas and have had the luxury of fresh sheets dried on a clothesline.
I’ve known the luxury of meaningful conversation with friends I have known for years and I’ll take that over the fanciest smart TV with all of the movies you could imagine.
We traveled on three different airplanes the day before yesterday and walked past first class on each of them. I sit in tourist and board with group 7 most of the time. I know the size of an overhead bin and often can stow my carry on under the seat in front of me. I’m used to the person in front of me shaking my tray table when they recline their seat. I know how to pull in my elbows when I get stuck with a middle seat and a rather large stranger next to me. But I doubt that there were many travelers on any of the flights we took who had the luxury of having their daughter take them to the departure airport and their son pick them up at the arrival airport. That is the real luxury that we enjoy and I wouldn’t trade it for boarding early and having the entire rest of the airplane shuffle down the aisle in my seating area before the plane could depart.
My definition of luxury is different than that of the people who write hotel guides. I suspect it is different from the definition of those who spend a lot of money seeking out five-star hotels. Everyone is entitled to their own ways of travel, but I find our way of travel to have the kind of luxuries I prefer. When I travel, I prefer to travel with a companion who really knows me and with whom I am delighted to spend time. My wife of more than 51 years is ideal for me. Being with her is luxury beyond the amenities a hotel can offer.
We had a longer than usual layover in Winnipeg on our way home. When we first got to our gate, there weren’t many people and there was a large open area without seats in front of the agents’ desk. There were children playing in the area and we spoke with others waiting for the plane. We were all of the same class in that small community. Before the flight took off, agents bought out poles and ribbon dividers to facilitate our falling into lines and being separated before boarding the plane. First class travelers needed to be separated from economy class flyers. The process was a bit of left over colonialism that seemed out of place and we wondered if there weren’t a better way of running an airline. We did, however, stand in the correct line and waited until our turn to board.
I settled in the seat next to my favorite travel companion and enjoyed all the luxury I need. I’ll leave the travel guides and star ratings to others.
I’m not a five-star kind of person. When we travel, we prefer to stay with friends or in our own camper. When we do stay in a hotel, we often seek out small, unique, and maybe even a bit run-down properties. Over the years, we have found small motels with just a few rooms that have hand-made quilts, unique decor, and charm. We’ve also spent a few nights in places that were a little too run-down and in need of repair. A couple of times we’ve stayed in places that we would not return to for a second night. However, there have been many more that were delightful surprises.
When we traveled in Europe we stayed with friends or at Youth Hostels. When we traveled in Japan we sought out small hotels that were uniquely Japanese.
I’ve never owned a copy of the Forbes Guide and I don’t use one in selecting a place to stay.
When we traveled in Japan, we found hotels that provided Yukatas. A Yukata is a cotton kimono that can be used for walking to and from the onsen. A westerner used to private bathing, I never got up the courage to visit an onsen, and I certainly would not feel comfortable going out in public wearing just a yukata. I tried them on, wearing them only in our private room. Slippers are common amenities in Japanese hotel rooms, where shoes are always removed at the door.
A five-star hotel, however, offers bathrobes, slippers, luxury toiletries, and large fluffy towels. We expect clean towels, but “large” and “fluffy” are not accurate descriptors of the institutional whites found in the places we stay. I’ve occasionally stayed in hotels that have stocked mini-bars, but avoided using any of the contents because of the prices. Five-star hotels often offer free-mini bars. There are also ones that offer fresh flowers and even house plants that you can take home after your stay.
There are other amenities that are offered in five-star hotels, including a lot of hotel staff that I prefer to avoid, if possible. I really don’t need valet parking, a butler, a doorman, 24-hour concierge, or nightly turn-down service. I don’t know the customs about tipping service personnel and find that simply providing my own service is more comfortable for me. Five star hotels might have on call medical staff, luggage storage, executive limousine service, free newspapers (OK, I remember when people used to red paper newspapers. We used to subscribe to daily newspapers. And I don’t really think of USA Today as a real newspaper.)
I’m no expert on thread counts for sheets and am not sure I could identify a memory foam bed if I laid on one.
I simply don’t need a five-star guide because I have a different standard for luxury travel. I’ve had the luxury of home cooked meals and by that I don’t mean meals cooked in a commercial kitchen that have fancy ingredients and a lot of butter. I mean real meals cooked at home with regular groceries just like we eat at home. Burgers straight off of a backyard grill taste better to me than anything offered from an institutional kitchen.
I travel with the luxury of my own toothbrush and the brand of toothpaste I prefer. I sleep in my own pajamas and have had the luxury of fresh sheets dried on a clothesline.
I’ve known the luxury of meaningful conversation with friends I have known for years and I’ll take that over the fanciest smart TV with all of the movies you could imagine.
We traveled on three different airplanes the day before yesterday and walked past first class on each of them. I sit in tourist and board with group 7 most of the time. I know the size of an overhead bin and often can stow my carry on under the seat in front of me. I’m used to the person in front of me shaking my tray table when they recline their seat. I know how to pull in my elbows when I get stuck with a middle seat and a rather large stranger next to me. But I doubt that there were many travelers on any of the flights we took who had the luxury of having their daughter take them to the departure airport and their son pick them up at the arrival airport. That is the real luxury that we enjoy and I wouldn’t trade it for boarding early and having the entire rest of the airplane shuffle down the aisle in my seating area before the plane could depart.
My definition of luxury is different than that of the people who write hotel guides. I suspect it is different from the definition of those who spend a lot of money seeking out five-star hotels. Everyone is entitled to their own ways of travel, but I find our way of travel to have the kind of luxuries I prefer. When I travel, I prefer to travel with a companion who really knows me and with whom I am delighted to spend time. My wife of more than 51 years is ideal for me. Being with her is luxury beyond the amenities a hotel can offer.
We had a longer than usual layover in Winnipeg on our way home. When we first got to our gate, there weren’t many people and there was a large open area without seats in front of the agents’ desk. There were children playing in the area and we spoke with others waiting for the plane. We were all of the same class in that small community. Before the flight took off, agents bought out poles and ribbon dividers to facilitate our falling into lines and being separated before boarding the plane. First class travelers needed to be separated from economy class flyers. The process was a bit of left over colonialism that seemed out of place and we wondered if there weren’t a better way of running an airline. We did, however, stand in the correct line and waited until our turn to board.
I settled in the seat next to my favorite travel companion and enjoyed all the luxury I need. I’ll leave the travel guides and star ratings to others.
A Day of Travel
20/09/24 02:53
After my father died, I used to do a few chores for my mother when I went to visit her. One time I was doing some small task in her bedroom, perhaps changing a light bulb, and after I completed the task, I sat on the edge of her bed, which was neatly made as usual, and talked to her for a moment. I noticed that her mattress was lumpy, saggy, and very uneven. I suggested to her that she might want to consider getting a new mattress. I offered that it would help her sleep better and might help with small aches and pains.
She thought about it for a while and then said, “I don’t want my bet at home to be too comfortable. If it was, I might not want to travel any more.”
That response has remained with me ever since. I admit that I still don’t fully understand it. We have a very comfortable bed here in our home. It isn’t fancy, but we bought a new mattress some years ago and are very happy with it. It is good to be home in our own bed, but It isn’t that it is somehow inherently more comfortable than the beds in which we have slept for the past two weeks.
Our first night out, we stayed in a hotel in Vancouver. Then we flew to South Carolina where we stayed at our daughter’s place until we flew home yesterday. Both the hotel and our daughter’s guest bedroom feature king size beds. King size beds are enormous. I guess I’m just not a king. I’m used to sleeping on my side of the bed. We haven’t switched sides in over 51 years of marriage and we are unlikely to do so now. I always have plenty of room and plenty of covers, but I also am close enough to my wife to listen to her breathing and to reach out and touch her. When we sleep in a king size bed, however, we both seem to gauge our position from the outside edge of the bed. The result is that we sleep with more space between us. I don’t know how far apart we are in reality, but it certainly is farther than we are used to.
Coming home it feels good to sleep closer to one another.
I don’t think, however, it is enough of a deterrent to keep me from traveling, however. For one thing, we have a bed in our camper that is very close in size to the bed that we have in home. It, too, has a comfortable mattress. We sleep very well in that bed even though it is in a slide out that requires Susan to crawl over me to get in and out of bed if I am in it. That has not seemed to be a problem for me and she has not complained about it.
And we have enjoyed many different beds in many different places. In Japan, we slept on mattresses directly on mats on the floor and in hotel rooms that were essentially wall to wall bed with a small bathroom alcove and a television set that was nearly as big as the wall at the foot of the bed. We didn’t watch television in Japan, much and didn’t bother to turn on the sets in our hotel rooms. We liked to watch the weather forecasters on the televisions in restaurants and lobbies. You don’t have to speak Japanese to know what they are saying. Besides, weather forecasting is an art with limited accuracy, so it isn’t as if they are making absolute predictions that should form our plans.
Thinking about it today, I don’t think that a new mattress would have made any difference to my mom. I sort of wish we had purchased a new mattress for the bed she slept in when she lived in our home toward the end of her life. My excuse for not having a new mattress is that the bed is a hand-made antique and requires a custom mattress. Custom mattresses are pretty expensive and I justified not buying a new one because it was a guest room and guests generally don’t stay very many nights. My mother, however, made that room her own room when she moved to our house. I asked her several times about the bed and how she slept and she always said that she liked the bed and that it was very comfortable. I guess all of those years of having a less than perfect mattress in her home trained her for the time she lived with us.
My mother was a pretty good sleeper. At least she found it easy to go to sleep. Sometimes she would wake in the night and have difficulty going back to sleep, a trait which I definitely have inherited. She never complained about sleep, however, and that is a model for the way I want to be as I grow older.
Susan’s grandparents used to have extensive conversations about sleep most mornings when we visited them. They always claimed that they had not slept at all or had slept very little. She had a great aunt who often was at their home when we visited and she, too, seemed to have nights when she didn’t sleep a wink. I love them and I loved the opportunity to visit them and hear their conversations, but I don’t have any desire to be like them. I try to avoid complaining about sleep, or other things for that matter, when I talk to others. I don’t want to be dishonest, but I don’t want little things to be the topic of my conversation. I’d rather talk about gratitude and the things I am thankful to have in my life.
If I am an old coot, and that may well be the case, I don’t want to be a grumpy one. I don’t want to become a complainer. I’ve had too many good things in my life, including a wonderful trip to visit our daughter and grandson. I’m glad to be home, but I also am so glad we were able to make the trip. It was a joy and I hope I’ll be up for a lot more trips in the years to come.
We have two children. Yesterday, our daughter gave us a ride to the airport. We spent the day adventuring. In the evening, our son picked us up and gave us a ride home from the airport. That’s not a bad way to spend the day. We are fortunate people.
She thought about it for a while and then said, “I don’t want my bet at home to be too comfortable. If it was, I might not want to travel any more.”
That response has remained with me ever since. I admit that I still don’t fully understand it. We have a very comfortable bed here in our home. It isn’t fancy, but we bought a new mattress some years ago and are very happy with it. It is good to be home in our own bed, but It isn’t that it is somehow inherently more comfortable than the beds in which we have slept for the past two weeks.
Our first night out, we stayed in a hotel in Vancouver. Then we flew to South Carolina where we stayed at our daughter’s place until we flew home yesterday. Both the hotel and our daughter’s guest bedroom feature king size beds. King size beds are enormous. I guess I’m just not a king. I’m used to sleeping on my side of the bed. We haven’t switched sides in over 51 years of marriage and we are unlikely to do so now. I always have plenty of room and plenty of covers, but I also am close enough to my wife to listen to her breathing and to reach out and touch her. When we sleep in a king size bed, however, we both seem to gauge our position from the outside edge of the bed. The result is that we sleep with more space between us. I don’t know how far apart we are in reality, but it certainly is farther than we are used to.
Coming home it feels good to sleep closer to one another.
I don’t think, however, it is enough of a deterrent to keep me from traveling, however. For one thing, we have a bed in our camper that is very close in size to the bed that we have in home. It, too, has a comfortable mattress. We sleep very well in that bed even though it is in a slide out that requires Susan to crawl over me to get in and out of bed if I am in it. That has not seemed to be a problem for me and she has not complained about it.
And we have enjoyed many different beds in many different places. In Japan, we slept on mattresses directly on mats on the floor and in hotel rooms that were essentially wall to wall bed with a small bathroom alcove and a television set that was nearly as big as the wall at the foot of the bed. We didn’t watch television in Japan, much and didn’t bother to turn on the sets in our hotel rooms. We liked to watch the weather forecasters on the televisions in restaurants and lobbies. You don’t have to speak Japanese to know what they are saying. Besides, weather forecasting is an art with limited accuracy, so it isn’t as if they are making absolute predictions that should form our plans.
Thinking about it today, I don’t think that a new mattress would have made any difference to my mom. I sort of wish we had purchased a new mattress for the bed she slept in when she lived in our home toward the end of her life. My excuse for not having a new mattress is that the bed is a hand-made antique and requires a custom mattress. Custom mattresses are pretty expensive and I justified not buying a new one because it was a guest room and guests generally don’t stay very many nights. My mother, however, made that room her own room when she moved to our house. I asked her several times about the bed and how she slept and she always said that she liked the bed and that it was very comfortable. I guess all of those years of having a less than perfect mattress in her home trained her for the time she lived with us.
My mother was a pretty good sleeper. At least she found it easy to go to sleep. Sometimes she would wake in the night and have difficulty going back to sleep, a trait which I definitely have inherited. She never complained about sleep, however, and that is a model for the way I want to be as I grow older.
Susan’s grandparents used to have extensive conversations about sleep most mornings when we visited them. They always claimed that they had not slept at all or had slept very little. She had a great aunt who often was at their home when we visited and she, too, seemed to have nights when she didn’t sleep a wink. I love them and I loved the opportunity to visit them and hear their conversations, but I don’t have any desire to be like them. I try to avoid complaining about sleep, or other things for that matter, when I talk to others. I don’t want to be dishonest, but I don’t want little things to be the topic of my conversation. I’d rather talk about gratitude and the things I am thankful to have in my life.
If I am an old coot, and that may well be the case, I don’t want to be a grumpy one. I don’t want to become a complainer. I’ve had too many good things in my life, including a wonderful trip to visit our daughter and grandson. I’m glad to be home, but I also am so glad we were able to make the trip. It was a joy and I hope I’ll be up for a lot more trips in the years to come.
We have two children. Yesterday, our daughter gave us a ride to the airport. We spent the day adventuring. In the evening, our son picked us up and gave us a ride home from the airport. That’s not a bad way to spend the day. We are fortunate people.
Homeward bound
18/09/24 20:53
Today is a travel day for us. I am still able to be impressed by the fact that we can travel coast to coast in a single day. And we are traveling diagonally across the continent as well, from South Carolina to British Columbia. The good part about traveling west is that we don’t have to get up very early in the morning and arrive after dark as is the case when we travel west to east. Today our first flight is at 10:40, which still means we need to be at the airport by about 9 am, and we arrive in Vancouver at 9:21 if everything goes according to schedule. It is less than 12 hours on the clock from the time we take off until we land, with some fairly long layovers along the way. We will go through Canadian customs at Winnipeg and have lots of time to take care of that extra step in the process.
The down side of traveling east to west is that it makes for a very long day. 9:21 pm in Vancouver is 12:21 am the next day in South Carolina, which makes for an 18 hour day. a long day, however, seems to us to be a good investment. We got to spend two weeks with our daughter and grandson and we get to sleep in our own beds tonight.
I’m not sure why it took us this long to discover how convenient it is for us to fly in and out of Vancouver. We have flown from Vancouver in the past, but when we did so we lived a bit farther away. Now, it is less than an hour for us to drive from the airport home and that includes time to clear customs back into the United States. There won’t be long lines at the border by the time we get there this evening. Our son is meeting our flight, so we have an easy ride home and his home is just a few minutes down the road from ours.
In the future we will definitely check prices for flying in and out of Vancouver. Were we to fly in and out of Seattle, the drive home from the airport would be about two hours and the trip can take a lot longer at certain times of the day when the traffic is bad. There are flights from Seattle to Bellingham, and we have taken them in the past, but they are expensive and add quite a bit to the cost of the flight. So Vancouver is definitely a good option for us.
I grew up around airplanes and flying and for the most part I look forward to traveling by air. There are some things that make airline travel less fun these days. One is Dynamic Pricing. All major airlines use algorithms to determine the price of each individual ticket. This means that different passengers pay different amounts for the same trip. The airlines claim that this practice allows them to fill more seats and make more profit. That may be the case, but it isn’t that far from an illegal practice that is called price discrimination. It must be far enough, however, because the airline companies have been using dynamic pricing for some time now.
Another thing that makes flying a bit less fun than it was when I was younger is the security that has become necessary to provide safe flight for passengers and crew. After 911 the Transportation Security Administration was created and charged with providing for airline security. While there have been some problems, the system has worked for the most part. However, airports were not designed for the extra space that is required to scan everyone individually and inspect all of the luggage. Technologies such as scanning machines, have helped, but the process has a certain slowness that means more waiting in line and necessitates arriving at the airport earlier. Also, because shoes and belts must be removed and the contents of pockets emptied before being scanned, there is a certain disruption while people remove the items before entering the scanner and replace them at the other end. The process, while perhaps necessary isn’t fun.
Then, on a flight not long ago, I discovered another challenge for flying. After a prostate biopsy, I needed to wear disposable underwear on a flight. That particular brand and type of underwear indicated that there was the potential of canceling something there, requiring a pat down that included a very private area. While it is possible to have the procedure performed behind a screen, that takes extra time and I opted for a public pat down. It all went smoothly, but it was another indignity added to having my shoes and belt removed. Meanwhile the contents of my pockets, including my wallet were in a tray at the receiving end of the luggage scanner, meaning that I was concerned that while security was being provided in one sense, there was little security protecting my possessions in a very busy environment on the other side of the screening area.
Fortunately, I don’t have to wear that kind of underwear for today’s trip. I will, however, make a brief comment about the process of removing shoes. The requirement to remove shoes, along with restrictions on the amount of liquids, gels, and aerosols allowed, was instituted almost five years after the 911 attacks. It was instituted in response to a passenger who attempted to detonate a bomb concealed in a shoe. That is reason for increased security. However, the scanning machine through which our shoes go cannot detect certain types of explosives, including the type the would-be bomber attempted to use. There is a simple wipe that does detect explosives, and could be conducted on shoes while they are being worn, but instead we remove them and they are not scanned for explosives. There is something a bit counter intuitive about the process from my point of view.
Despite the challenges, we are fortunate to be able to make today’s trip and with the right attitude on my part, it should be an adventure. I’m starting the day with an open mind and resolve not to get too rattled with the challenges of travel.
We’re homeward bound!
The down side of traveling east to west is that it makes for a very long day. 9:21 pm in Vancouver is 12:21 am the next day in South Carolina, which makes for an 18 hour day. a long day, however, seems to us to be a good investment. We got to spend two weeks with our daughter and grandson and we get to sleep in our own beds tonight.
I’m not sure why it took us this long to discover how convenient it is for us to fly in and out of Vancouver. We have flown from Vancouver in the past, but when we did so we lived a bit farther away. Now, it is less than an hour for us to drive from the airport home and that includes time to clear customs back into the United States. There won’t be long lines at the border by the time we get there this evening. Our son is meeting our flight, so we have an easy ride home and his home is just a few minutes down the road from ours.
In the future we will definitely check prices for flying in and out of Vancouver. Were we to fly in and out of Seattle, the drive home from the airport would be about two hours and the trip can take a lot longer at certain times of the day when the traffic is bad. There are flights from Seattle to Bellingham, and we have taken them in the past, but they are expensive and add quite a bit to the cost of the flight. So Vancouver is definitely a good option for us.
I grew up around airplanes and flying and for the most part I look forward to traveling by air. There are some things that make airline travel less fun these days. One is Dynamic Pricing. All major airlines use algorithms to determine the price of each individual ticket. This means that different passengers pay different amounts for the same trip. The airlines claim that this practice allows them to fill more seats and make more profit. That may be the case, but it isn’t that far from an illegal practice that is called price discrimination. It must be far enough, however, because the airline companies have been using dynamic pricing for some time now.
Another thing that makes flying a bit less fun than it was when I was younger is the security that has become necessary to provide safe flight for passengers and crew. After 911 the Transportation Security Administration was created and charged with providing for airline security. While there have been some problems, the system has worked for the most part. However, airports were not designed for the extra space that is required to scan everyone individually and inspect all of the luggage. Technologies such as scanning machines, have helped, but the process has a certain slowness that means more waiting in line and necessitates arriving at the airport earlier. Also, because shoes and belts must be removed and the contents of pockets emptied before being scanned, there is a certain disruption while people remove the items before entering the scanner and replace them at the other end. The process, while perhaps necessary isn’t fun.
Then, on a flight not long ago, I discovered another challenge for flying. After a prostate biopsy, I needed to wear disposable underwear on a flight. That particular brand and type of underwear indicated that there was the potential of canceling something there, requiring a pat down that included a very private area. While it is possible to have the procedure performed behind a screen, that takes extra time and I opted for a public pat down. It all went smoothly, but it was another indignity added to having my shoes and belt removed. Meanwhile the contents of my pockets, including my wallet were in a tray at the receiving end of the luggage scanner, meaning that I was concerned that while security was being provided in one sense, there was little security protecting my possessions in a very busy environment on the other side of the screening area.
Fortunately, I don’t have to wear that kind of underwear for today’s trip. I will, however, make a brief comment about the process of removing shoes. The requirement to remove shoes, along with restrictions on the amount of liquids, gels, and aerosols allowed, was instituted almost five years after the 911 attacks. It was instituted in response to a passenger who attempted to detonate a bomb concealed in a shoe. That is reason for increased security. However, the scanning machine through which our shoes go cannot detect certain types of explosives, including the type the would-be bomber attempted to use. There is a simple wipe that does detect explosives, and could be conducted on shoes while they are being worn, but instead we remove them and they are not scanned for explosives. There is something a bit counter intuitive about the process from my point of view.
Despite the challenges, we are fortunate to be able to make today’s trip and with the right attitude on my part, it should be an adventure. I’m starting the day with an open mind and resolve not to get too rattled with the challenges of travel.
We’re homeward bound!
Driving decisions
17/09/24 21:46
We are not ones to buy new cars very often. With a couple of exceptions, we have been happy to purchase used vehicles for most of our lives. Currently we have a car and a pickup. Both are 2011 models and both are relatively low mileage for us. We tend to run our vehicles in to the 200,000 to 300,000 mile range. This may not, however, be the best strategy for us in terms of finances and the future. There are a lot of factors in the decisions we will make in years to come.
One factor is that we will come to a point sometime in the future when we don’t need two vehicles. It is difficult, however, to determine when that time will be. It will be dependent upon age and ability. But it will also be dependent upon our decisions regarding housing. Right now we live in a place that requires driving for most basic errands. I can get a few groceries from the small grocers in our village with my bicycle, but for the trips to stock up the pantry we need to drive some distance to a full grocery store. Doctors, pharmacy, and a host of other services require drives of more than ten miles.
Another factor that is a challenge for us to weigh accurately is cost of operation. We know that the price of fuel will continue to rise. Living close to Canada gives us a clear understanding of how prices here are lower than most of the rest of the world. And despite what some people claim or fantasize about, the price of fuel will not come down and stay down for long. Were we to purchase an electric vehicle, we could charge it at home most of the time and with our solar panels, we produce a lot more electricity than we consume. Charging a vehicle at home would be essentially free for us.
But we would have to save a LOT of money to offset the cost of an electric vehicle. They are expensive. Besides we aren’t really new car kinds of people. We usually shop for used vehicles and there are not very many used electric cars on the market.
Then there is the problem of range. While an electric vehicle would work well for our local driving, it might be difficult to plan long trips in an electric vehicle. There are some places in rural locations where we like to go where charging stations are few and far between. We would love to explore more of British Columbia and the Yukon and there are some long stretches of road up there with no chargers.
Charging infrastructure is improving rapidly. This month the City of Mount Vernon here in Washington will cut the ribbon on its new Library Commons. The parking structure attached to the new library has as many charging stations as there are gas pumps in the entire town. And the structure has been planned with capacity to expand charging facilities in the future. There are more and more places to charge electric vehicles, including additional fast chargers being built all the time.
An electric vehicle has its appeal, but it is not a perfect solution to every transportation need. Fortunately for us, we don’t need to replace either of our vehicles right now, so we have time to think and consider our options.
There are mixed reports about how quickly electric vehicles will replace fossil fuel vehicles. I was interested to read the Norway now has more electric vehicles on the roads than vehicles powered by fossil fuel. There are 754,303 all electric vehicles registered in Norway compared with 753,905 vehicles that run on fossil fuel. Those figures are for private vehicles and do not include commercial vehicles such as transport trucks. Norway is on track to become the first nation on earth to end the sale of new gas and diesel cars by 2025 - just a year from now. Currently nine out of every ten personal cars sold in Norway are electric vehicles.
Of course, Norway is a small country. It doesn’t have the vast distances of unpopulated areas that Canada and the American West have. And cities in Norway have significant charging infrastructure. Many places offer free parking to electric vehicles. Every Norwegian town and city has plenty of free charging stations. There are 2.000 of them in Oslo alone. More interesting to me, however, is that Norway has been able to manage the transition to electric vehicles with tax breaks and government incentives. Those tax breaks and government incentives have been funded by oil and gas. Norway is one of the world’s largest exporters of oil.
Using the sale of oil to finance the transition to electric vehicles has obvious positive effects on air quality in Norway, but its impact on global climate change is a bit more questionable. I suppose one could argue that they are selling fuel that would be consumed whether or not they sold it as other countries are still very dependent upon oil as an energy source. From a purely environmental point of view, however, the best use of oil and gas is to leave them in the earth. The process of extracting and burning the fuels contributes to global warming and lowered air quality worldwide. Exporting pollution is a far cry from ending pollution.
The current climate crisis is the result of many complex factors and decisions. The solutions will come from multiple sources. There is no “one size fits all” solution to the climate crisis. If it were easy to solve, we would have already done so. Electric vehicles can be part of the solution, especially in places where renewable sources of electricity are common. The transition away from fossil fuels will demand certain sacrifices, and we aren’t very practiced at making sacrifices. And none of us can see the future clearly.
So we will continue to ponder and consider. It seems to me that the decision about what to drive is more critical than ever before in our experience. We’ve got a lot of homework to do before we come to a conclusion.
One factor is that we will come to a point sometime in the future when we don’t need two vehicles. It is difficult, however, to determine when that time will be. It will be dependent upon age and ability. But it will also be dependent upon our decisions regarding housing. Right now we live in a place that requires driving for most basic errands. I can get a few groceries from the small grocers in our village with my bicycle, but for the trips to stock up the pantry we need to drive some distance to a full grocery store. Doctors, pharmacy, and a host of other services require drives of more than ten miles.
Another factor that is a challenge for us to weigh accurately is cost of operation. We know that the price of fuel will continue to rise. Living close to Canada gives us a clear understanding of how prices here are lower than most of the rest of the world. And despite what some people claim or fantasize about, the price of fuel will not come down and stay down for long. Were we to purchase an electric vehicle, we could charge it at home most of the time and with our solar panels, we produce a lot more electricity than we consume. Charging a vehicle at home would be essentially free for us.
But we would have to save a LOT of money to offset the cost of an electric vehicle. They are expensive. Besides we aren’t really new car kinds of people. We usually shop for used vehicles and there are not very many used electric cars on the market.
Then there is the problem of range. While an electric vehicle would work well for our local driving, it might be difficult to plan long trips in an electric vehicle. There are some places in rural locations where we like to go where charging stations are few and far between. We would love to explore more of British Columbia and the Yukon and there are some long stretches of road up there with no chargers.
Charging infrastructure is improving rapidly. This month the City of Mount Vernon here in Washington will cut the ribbon on its new Library Commons. The parking structure attached to the new library has as many charging stations as there are gas pumps in the entire town. And the structure has been planned with capacity to expand charging facilities in the future. There are more and more places to charge electric vehicles, including additional fast chargers being built all the time.
An electric vehicle has its appeal, but it is not a perfect solution to every transportation need. Fortunately for us, we don’t need to replace either of our vehicles right now, so we have time to think and consider our options.
There are mixed reports about how quickly electric vehicles will replace fossil fuel vehicles. I was interested to read the Norway now has more electric vehicles on the roads than vehicles powered by fossil fuel. There are 754,303 all electric vehicles registered in Norway compared with 753,905 vehicles that run on fossil fuel. Those figures are for private vehicles and do not include commercial vehicles such as transport trucks. Norway is on track to become the first nation on earth to end the sale of new gas and diesel cars by 2025 - just a year from now. Currently nine out of every ten personal cars sold in Norway are electric vehicles.
Of course, Norway is a small country. It doesn’t have the vast distances of unpopulated areas that Canada and the American West have. And cities in Norway have significant charging infrastructure. Many places offer free parking to electric vehicles. Every Norwegian town and city has plenty of free charging stations. There are 2.000 of them in Oslo alone. More interesting to me, however, is that Norway has been able to manage the transition to electric vehicles with tax breaks and government incentives. Those tax breaks and government incentives have been funded by oil and gas. Norway is one of the world’s largest exporters of oil.
Using the sale of oil to finance the transition to electric vehicles has obvious positive effects on air quality in Norway, but its impact on global climate change is a bit more questionable. I suppose one could argue that they are selling fuel that would be consumed whether or not they sold it as other countries are still very dependent upon oil as an energy source. From a purely environmental point of view, however, the best use of oil and gas is to leave them in the earth. The process of extracting and burning the fuels contributes to global warming and lowered air quality worldwide. Exporting pollution is a far cry from ending pollution.
The current climate crisis is the result of many complex factors and decisions. The solutions will come from multiple sources. There is no “one size fits all” solution to the climate crisis. If it were easy to solve, we would have already done so. Electric vehicles can be part of the solution, especially in places where renewable sources of electricity are common. The transition away from fossil fuels will demand certain sacrifices, and we aren’t very practiced at making sacrifices. And none of us can see the future clearly.
So we will continue to ponder and consider. It seems to me that the decision about what to drive is more critical than ever before in our experience. We’ve got a lot of homework to do before we come to a conclusion.
Weathering the Storm
16/09/24 21:57
I grew up in windy country. Winds blowing down the east slope of the Rocky Mountains are funneled into a relatively narrow channel between the Absaroka and Crazy Mountains and my hometown is right in the middle of that channel. We endured a lot of jokes about the wind that blew through our town. We learned to live with the wind and to tie things down so that they wouldn’t blow away.
In addition to wind, we had some cold temperatures in the winter and occasionally enough snow for a really good blizzard. The cold and the wind can be a dangerous combination and we learned to dress with enough layers to protect ourselves. I delivered newspapers as a young teen and so had to work outside every day. I had a good collection of gloves, hats, scarves and face masks as well as insulated pants and a good parka.
I lived in the Dakotas for much of my adult life and my winter survival skills were helpful on several occasions. I still have a really good winter parka, insulated coveralls, warm boots, hats and mittens even though I now live in a place where I don’t need all of my winter gear.
I have not, however, ever lived in a region where hurricanes pass by and tropical storms come ashore bringing wind and rain. So I didn’t know quite what to expect when the weather forecasters warned that “Potential Tropical Storm Helene” is nearing landfall and its path is headed in our direction. Our daughter and her family live near the center of South Carolina, a couple of hours from the coast, so that don’t worry about tropical storms the way people who live on the coast need to.
What I do know is that our daughter isn’t concerned. She has lived here for a little over four years and she has seen a few hurricanes and tropical storms. What happens here where she lives is mostly that a lot of rain falls. These storms can bring torrential rainfall and the storm sewers in the community are set up to handle that rain. Our daughter is slightly annoyed that people are so quick to cancel various events when a storm threatens. She pointed out, rightly, that there was nothing other than a little wind during the time that her son would have had soccer practice had they not cancelled the practice in anticipation of the coming storm.
The wind did blow a little, but not as much as I have seen in other places where i live. It wasn’t breaking the branches off of the trees or downing power lines. And it has been raining off and on through the night. Rain is forecast for the day here.
The one upside is that there is a small leak in the roof of their garden shed and we haven’t been able to pinpoint the problem. Today we’ll get a chance to look at it in the rain and perhaps figure out what needs to be done to make the shed completely water tight once again. On the other hand, water leaks can be tricky and it is also possible that I won’t be able to figure out what is going on even if I do get the opportunity to see the leak with my own eyes.
It may just be a symptom of growing older, but it seems to me like people are quicker to cancel events and hunker down in the face of a little bit of weather. I can’t remember ever having a snow day when I was in elementary school. There were days when the school busses didn’t run. If they left kids in town, country kids had to have snow homes where they would go. Most went to relatives, but there were a couple who came to our house. That happened a few times, but not often. People simple went out and got work done in harsh weather. Our grandchildren in Washington, in contrast, will have a snow day whenever any snow falls. In recent years the school year has been extended far into June just to make up all of the snow days.
I wonder if tropical storms are similar for the old timers in this community. After all it isn’t a hurricane. It isn’t even a tropical storm. The storm has been described by the forecasters as a potential tropical storm. I guess that means that the storm might intensify. Then again, I’m a newcomer around here so I don’t know what a potential storm involves. I guess I’ll find out.
Tropical storm warnings have been issued all along the coast extending up into North Carolina as well. The storm is expected to move on out of state later today. So far, I guess, I’m not particularly impressed.
What is interesting to me is that I am once again devoting a journal entry to the weather. There was a time, early in my journaling when I worried that I wrote about cats too often. Now we no longer have cats and I’ve moved on to other subjects, but throughout the entire time that I have been posting my journal online, I have posted a lot of entries about the weather. It is indeed possible that the weather is my most frequent topic.
I had a teacher who I admired a great deal who said he didn’t have time for small talk. At that time he was around the age that I am now. He said that his time was short and he didn’t want to waste it talking small talk. And for him, the weather was a “small talk” topic. I tried to avoid such subjects when I was with him and went straight to discussing theology and meaning. But I had to be very attentive in order to do that. Talking about the weather comes naturally to me. I grew up around farmers and ranchers for whom the weather was a critical topic for their lives and work.
I really don’t know much about tropical storms, or even potential tropical storms, but today I hope I’ll gain a bit of experience. It might even appear as the topic of a conversation some time in the future. I guess I still have some time in my life for small talk.
In addition to wind, we had some cold temperatures in the winter and occasionally enough snow for a really good blizzard. The cold and the wind can be a dangerous combination and we learned to dress with enough layers to protect ourselves. I delivered newspapers as a young teen and so had to work outside every day. I had a good collection of gloves, hats, scarves and face masks as well as insulated pants and a good parka.
I lived in the Dakotas for much of my adult life and my winter survival skills were helpful on several occasions. I still have a really good winter parka, insulated coveralls, warm boots, hats and mittens even though I now live in a place where I don’t need all of my winter gear.
I have not, however, ever lived in a region where hurricanes pass by and tropical storms come ashore bringing wind and rain. So I didn’t know quite what to expect when the weather forecasters warned that “Potential Tropical Storm Helene” is nearing landfall and its path is headed in our direction. Our daughter and her family live near the center of South Carolina, a couple of hours from the coast, so that don’t worry about tropical storms the way people who live on the coast need to.
What I do know is that our daughter isn’t concerned. She has lived here for a little over four years and she has seen a few hurricanes and tropical storms. What happens here where she lives is mostly that a lot of rain falls. These storms can bring torrential rainfall and the storm sewers in the community are set up to handle that rain. Our daughter is slightly annoyed that people are so quick to cancel various events when a storm threatens. She pointed out, rightly, that there was nothing other than a little wind during the time that her son would have had soccer practice had they not cancelled the practice in anticipation of the coming storm.
The wind did blow a little, but not as much as I have seen in other places where i live. It wasn’t breaking the branches off of the trees or downing power lines. And it has been raining off and on through the night. Rain is forecast for the day here.
The one upside is that there is a small leak in the roof of their garden shed and we haven’t been able to pinpoint the problem. Today we’ll get a chance to look at it in the rain and perhaps figure out what needs to be done to make the shed completely water tight once again. On the other hand, water leaks can be tricky and it is also possible that I won’t be able to figure out what is going on even if I do get the opportunity to see the leak with my own eyes.
It may just be a symptom of growing older, but it seems to me like people are quicker to cancel events and hunker down in the face of a little bit of weather. I can’t remember ever having a snow day when I was in elementary school. There were days when the school busses didn’t run. If they left kids in town, country kids had to have snow homes where they would go. Most went to relatives, but there were a couple who came to our house. That happened a few times, but not often. People simple went out and got work done in harsh weather. Our grandchildren in Washington, in contrast, will have a snow day whenever any snow falls. In recent years the school year has been extended far into June just to make up all of the snow days.
I wonder if tropical storms are similar for the old timers in this community. After all it isn’t a hurricane. It isn’t even a tropical storm. The storm has been described by the forecasters as a potential tropical storm. I guess that means that the storm might intensify. Then again, I’m a newcomer around here so I don’t know what a potential storm involves. I guess I’ll find out.
Tropical storm warnings have been issued all along the coast extending up into North Carolina as well. The storm is expected to move on out of state later today. So far, I guess, I’m not particularly impressed.
What is interesting to me is that I am once again devoting a journal entry to the weather. There was a time, early in my journaling when I worried that I wrote about cats too often. Now we no longer have cats and I’ve moved on to other subjects, but throughout the entire time that I have been posting my journal online, I have posted a lot of entries about the weather. It is indeed possible that the weather is my most frequent topic.
I had a teacher who I admired a great deal who said he didn’t have time for small talk. At that time he was around the age that I am now. He said that his time was short and he didn’t want to waste it talking small talk. And for him, the weather was a “small talk” topic. I tried to avoid such subjects when I was with him and went straight to discussing theology and meaning. But I had to be very attentive in order to do that. Talking about the weather comes naturally to me. I grew up around farmers and ranchers for whom the weather was a critical topic for their lives and work.
I really don’t know much about tropical storms, or even potential tropical storms, but today I hope I’ll gain a bit of experience. It might even appear as the topic of a conversation some time in the future. I guess I still have some time in my life for small talk.
Growing up in new times
15/09/24 23:34
One of the blessings of retired life is being able to spend time with our grandchildren. Living close to the ones in Washington gives us plenty of opportunities to observe them and be immersed in their daily lives. And our current trip to South Carolina gives us an opportunity to spend a couple of weeks immersed in the life of our grandson who lives here.
When our children were younger, I was aware that there were significant differences between the way they grew up and the way I grew up. Times change, opportunities change, attitudes change. I didn’t participate in any organized team sports until I was in the fifth grade, when I played basketball for a short season. I played little league baseball for one season, but didn’t do it a second season. I did start playing in the band when I was in the fifth grade and continued to play in the band throughout the rest of my formal education. I still play the trumpet on occasion but am not currently part of an organized ensemble.
Most of the time we occupied ourselves with free play when we weren’t in school. During summer vacation, we built tree forts, played in the river, floated in inner tubes, caught grasshoppers and went fishing - all with minimal adult supervision. My parents weren’t inattentive, though my father worked long hours, most of the time balancing two jobs. And with seven children in the family, our mother was busy. She kept books for our father’s business, cooked meals for the gang, sewed much of our clothing, and there were boys younger than me that needed more care and supervision.
I don’t think we suffered from a lack of supervision. We lived in a small town. We knew that if we got into trouble the story would get back to our parents before we did. But there were lots of hours in our lives when we weren’t the focus of our parents’s attention. I often went to work with my father, and the focus was definitely not on me. I learned to entertain myself when he was talking with customers. I listened in on a lot of adult conversation. I tried to help and learned a few adult skills as he worked.
A generation later, our children were raised with a much higher level of consciousness about safety. We had car seats and bike helmets, items that were not present in my life as a child. We didn’t let our children play unattended very much. If they were outside playing and we were inside, their area was limited to our back yard and the door was open. When they played with friends, we made sure that we knew the friends’ parents and that we were aware of their presence and supervision.
Our children didn’t get too involved in team sports, but they had more structure to their time. We took them to library story hours and explored the children’s museum and science exhibits. We took them to parks and they played in playgrounds. Like our parents, we were busy, and there were times when our children had to be patient with adult activities, but we worked in a church which had a nursery dedicated to childcare and spaces specifically designed for children of all ages. We shifted our schedule around so that one of us was home when they got out of school and summer vacations were filled with a variety of planned activities.
Our grandchildren also have busy parents, and the parents work hard to make the most of their time with the children. They also invest a lot of energy in planning supervised activities for their children.
Here in South Carolina, our 5-year-old grandson goes to a full day Kindergarten program. We and our children attended half day programs, but those don’t seem to exist any more. He is on a soccer team that has practices or games twice a week. He has joined a garden club at his school that meets weekly. When he is not in school there are all kinds of activities. Of course our visit has meant that things are not quite in the normal. In his regular routine he probably doesn’t go to the Ed-venture children’s museum on Saturday and the Zoo on Sunday, but that is what we did this week.
I don’t think he has very much time in his life when his activities aren’t supervised. Now that he is in kindergarten his mother is interviewing for jobs and she’ll soon be going back to work. When that happens, he will participate in before school and after school programs at his school. His parents, aware of how much time they are spending at work will plan to make the most of their time with him.
Anthropologist Barry Hewlett studies child-rearing in hunter-gatherer societies in Central Africa. He writes that children in those societies spend lots of time with their parents. They are with their parents as they go about their routines and they often help with adult tasks. It is rare, however, when they are the object of their parents’ attention. The children are sometimes bored and sometimes engaged and spend much of their time observing adults doing adult things.
This is a stark contrast where when they are with their parents, our grandchildren are the center of their parents’ attention. They are driven to their activities, they are observed and monitored by adults in safe spaces.
It is an overstatement, but it is as if our children value quality over quantity when it comes to spending time with their children. Children in hunter-gatherer societies get lots of quantity of time, but the quality may not be up to the standards of contemporary American parents.
In a way, being a parent is a much harder job for contemporary parents in our country. They have to invest a lot of effort. Planning is part of their parenting style. The way I grew up, there wasn’t much planning about how we would spend our time. Our parents didn’t manage our schedules other than to expect us to be at school and at church on time and to be at the dinner table when called.
I am in no position to say that one style is superior to the other, and I know that these are generalizations. But as I observe our grandchildren, I am aware of how things change and I wonder what kind of parents our grandchildren will be when their time comes.
When our children were younger, I was aware that there were significant differences between the way they grew up and the way I grew up. Times change, opportunities change, attitudes change. I didn’t participate in any organized team sports until I was in the fifth grade, when I played basketball for a short season. I played little league baseball for one season, but didn’t do it a second season. I did start playing in the band when I was in the fifth grade and continued to play in the band throughout the rest of my formal education. I still play the trumpet on occasion but am not currently part of an organized ensemble.
Most of the time we occupied ourselves with free play when we weren’t in school. During summer vacation, we built tree forts, played in the river, floated in inner tubes, caught grasshoppers and went fishing - all with minimal adult supervision. My parents weren’t inattentive, though my father worked long hours, most of the time balancing two jobs. And with seven children in the family, our mother was busy. She kept books for our father’s business, cooked meals for the gang, sewed much of our clothing, and there were boys younger than me that needed more care and supervision.
I don’t think we suffered from a lack of supervision. We lived in a small town. We knew that if we got into trouble the story would get back to our parents before we did. But there were lots of hours in our lives when we weren’t the focus of our parents’s attention. I often went to work with my father, and the focus was definitely not on me. I learned to entertain myself when he was talking with customers. I listened in on a lot of adult conversation. I tried to help and learned a few adult skills as he worked.
A generation later, our children were raised with a much higher level of consciousness about safety. We had car seats and bike helmets, items that were not present in my life as a child. We didn’t let our children play unattended very much. If they were outside playing and we were inside, their area was limited to our back yard and the door was open. When they played with friends, we made sure that we knew the friends’ parents and that we were aware of their presence and supervision.
Our children didn’t get too involved in team sports, but they had more structure to their time. We took them to library story hours and explored the children’s museum and science exhibits. We took them to parks and they played in playgrounds. Like our parents, we were busy, and there were times when our children had to be patient with adult activities, but we worked in a church which had a nursery dedicated to childcare and spaces specifically designed for children of all ages. We shifted our schedule around so that one of us was home when they got out of school and summer vacations were filled with a variety of planned activities.
Our grandchildren also have busy parents, and the parents work hard to make the most of their time with the children. They also invest a lot of energy in planning supervised activities for their children.
Here in South Carolina, our 5-year-old grandson goes to a full day Kindergarten program. We and our children attended half day programs, but those don’t seem to exist any more. He is on a soccer team that has practices or games twice a week. He has joined a garden club at his school that meets weekly. When he is not in school there are all kinds of activities. Of course our visit has meant that things are not quite in the normal. In his regular routine he probably doesn’t go to the Ed-venture children’s museum on Saturday and the Zoo on Sunday, but that is what we did this week.
I don’t think he has very much time in his life when his activities aren’t supervised. Now that he is in kindergarten his mother is interviewing for jobs and she’ll soon be going back to work. When that happens, he will participate in before school and after school programs at his school. His parents, aware of how much time they are spending at work will plan to make the most of their time with him.
Anthropologist Barry Hewlett studies child-rearing in hunter-gatherer societies in Central Africa. He writes that children in those societies spend lots of time with their parents. They are with their parents as they go about their routines and they often help with adult tasks. It is rare, however, when they are the object of their parents’ attention. The children are sometimes bored and sometimes engaged and spend much of their time observing adults doing adult things.
This is a stark contrast where when they are with their parents, our grandchildren are the center of their parents’ attention. They are driven to their activities, they are observed and monitored by adults in safe spaces.
It is an overstatement, but it is as if our children value quality over quantity when it comes to spending time with their children. Children in hunter-gatherer societies get lots of quantity of time, but the quality may not be up to the standards of contemporary American parents.
In a way, being a parent is a much harder job for contemporary parents in our country. They have to invest a lot of effort. Planning is part of their parenting style. The way I grew up, there wasn’t much planning about how we would spend our time. Our parents didn’t manage our schedules other than to expect us to be at school and at church on time and to be at the dinner table when called.
I am in no position to say that one style is superior to the other, and I know that these are generalizations. But as I observe our grandchildren, I am aware of how things change and I wonder what kind of parents our grandchildren will be when their time comes.
Lies have consequences
15/09/24 00:32
People moving from one place to another, migration and immigration, have been a part of history for as long as recorded history has occurred. Although ancient history is largely unknown, the islands of the Caribbean were first populated by successive waves of immigration. Arawak migrants, moving northward from the Orinoco delta in South America settled on the islands of the Caribbean prior to 600 A.D.
Centuries later, when Christopher Columbus first landed on a large island in the western Atlantic Ocean in 1492, the recorded history of Haiti began. He called the island, “La Isla Española” (the Spanish Island). When one of Columbus’ ships was wrecked, Columbus established the settlement, La Navidad. The first buildings were made from the timbers of the Santa Maria in December 1492. When he returned the next year he found his settlement destroyed and the settlers killed. He continued on and founded a new settlement at La Isabela in the territory of present-day Dominican Republic.
Following the Spanish explorers, French colonists arrived in the region of modern Haiti and began exporting sugar and later coffee. To support these labor intensive crops, slaves from Africa were imported. By the end of the 1700s a third of the Atlantic slave trade was coming to the colony. In 1791, slaves staged a revolt that led to the Haitian Revolution, which forced the French to withdraw. Toussaint Louverture declared independence in 1802 and Napoleon sent an invasion force to quell the revolution. The French forces encountered stiff resistance and by 1804 Napoleon abandoned the invasion and withdrew his troops.
Haiti became the first Black republic in the west. The success of the slave revolution rattled the United States, especially the slave south. The unease with their Haitian neighbors persists to this day with significant stigma directed at the people of Haiti.
Throughout its history, Haiti has struggled with its democratic ideals and has been ruled by dictators for much of its modern history. In the late 1950s François “Papa Doc” Duvalier rose to power and declared himself “President for Life.” He was succeeded by his son, Jean-Claude “Baby Doc.” Baby Doc’s kleptocracy left the country enmeshed in endemic poverty and vulnerable to several major pandemics, most notably an epidemic of African swine fever which led to the slaughter of creole pigs, the principle protein source for many of the country’s citizens. Later under a provisional military government, an AIDS outbreak caused extensive death and suffering.
On January 12, 2010 a magnitude 7.0 earthquake devastated the country with a death toll of over 300,000. Aftershocks followed. The capital city, Port-au-Prince was effectively leveled. Hundreds of thousands starved. On August 14, 2021, a 7.2 earthquake occurred in Haiti resulting in additional deaths, destruction, and suffering.
It is completely understandable why some people from Haiti sought to leave the country and emigrate to the United States. They have for the most part entered the country legally, worked hard and become contributing members of society. They have gone to work in services and industries in need of labor and have settled into communities around the United States.
The history of Haiti gives some explanation as to why some Haitian immigrants have encountered remnants of pre-Civil War racism and discomfort with Haiti. Irrational fears of disease are remnants of the wave of epidemics that swept the island decades ago. Haitian immigrants have encountered a lot of undeserved bias and racism as they have settled into this country. Still they have persisted and sought to build a better life for themselves and for their children.
Last week a candidate for the highest office in our country, who once held that position, in the midst of losing a debate, turned from all sense of rational argument and simply resorted to spewing lie after lie and included in that a lie garnered from the fringe right, based not at all in fact and debunked by city and county officials and then after the debate both the candidate and his running mate have continued to repeat the lie aimed at the hard-working Haitian immigrants who have settled in Springfield, Ohio. It was more than political rhetoric. It was irresponsible directing of hatred toward innocent people.
The candidate has long resorted to repeating lies not just out of a disrespect for the truth, but out of the practical knowledge that his base does not care what he does for them as long has he continues to do things against those with whom they disagree or with whom they are uncomfortable or afraid. Nearly half of the people of the country’s key swing states are saying that they intend to vote for this candidate.
The physical risk to the Haitian immigrants in Ohio is real. One only has to recall the violence directed against the Capitol on January 6, 2020, or the White supremacists marching in the streets, or other violent physical attacks that have resulted in death and injury to realize the real danger they face.
Regardless of the desperation of a candidate that is obviously struggling with cognitive decline, whose panic at crowd size causes him to exaggerate and lie continually, and whose panic at his inability to compete with his political opponent in rational argument, the use of lies that are capable of inciting violence crosses a line that no politician should be willing to cross. Then the candidate has the audacity to declare that he is the victim. It is the rhetoric of a weak coward.
But that rhetoric is holding sway with everyday people. And there is a very real possibility that the candidate that has no chance of winning the popular vote may still win enough electoral votes to become the President once again. His threats of mass deportations without regard to the legality of immigration status might be ruled illegal in the courts, but will surely result in additional suffering for people who have already suffered much in their lives.
I have wept over the attack on basic decency and the rejection of absolute truth in the past. I can slip into fear for the future. But I also know that the counter to the lies is the truth - truth that will set people free. And we must each be willing to stand up for the truth. For much is on our shoulders as citizens of this nation at this point in our history.
There is absolutely no evidence that any immigrants have stolen and eaten the pets of any people. We all need to be willing to stand up for the truth and now is our time.
Centuries later, when Christopher Columbus first landed on a large island in the western Atlantic Ocean in 1492, the recorded history of Haiti began. He called the island, “La Isla Española” (the Spanish Island). When one of Columbus’ ships was wrecked, Columbus established the settlement, La Navidad. The first buildings were made from the timbers of the Santa Maria in December 1492. When he returned the next year he found his settlement destroyed and the settlers killed. He continued on and founded a new settlement at La Isabela in the territory of present-day Dominican Republic.
Following the Spanish explorers, French colonists arrived in the region of modern Haiti and began exporting sugar and later coffee. To support these labor intensive crops, slaves from Africa were imported. By the end of the 1700s a third of the Atlantic slave trade was coming to the colony. In 1791, slaves staged a revolt that led to the Haitian Revolution, which forced the French to withdraw. Toussaint Louverture declared independence in 1802 and Napoleon sent an invasion force to quell the revolution. The French forces encountered stiff resistance and by 1804 Napoleon abandoned the invasion and withdrew his troops.
Haiti became the first Black republic in the west. The success of the slave revolution rattled the United States, especially the slave south. The unease with their Haitian neighbors persists to this day with significant stigma directed at the people of Haiti.
Throughout its history, Haiti has struggled with its democratic ideals and has been ruled by dictators for much of its modern history. In the late 1950s François “Papa Doc” Duvalier rose to power and declared himself “President for Life.” He was succeeded by his son, Jean-Claude “Baby Doc.” Baby Doc’s kleptocracy left the country enmeshed in endemic poverty and vulnerable to several major pandemics, most notably an epidemic of African swine fever which led to the slaughter of creole pigs, the principle protein source for many of the country’s citizens. Later under a provisional military government, an AIDS outbreak caused extensive death and suffering.
On January 12, 2010 a magnitude 7.0 earthquake devastated the country with a death toll of over 300,000. Aftershocks followed. The capital city, Port-au-Prince was effectively leveled. Hundreds of thousands starved. On August 14, 2021, a 7.2 earthquake occurred in Haiti resulting in additional deaths, destruction, and suffering.
It is completely understandable why some people from Haiti sought to leave the country and emigrate to the United States. They have for the most part entered the country legally, worked hard and become contributing members of society. They have gone to work in services and industries in need of labor and have settled into communities around the United States.
The history of Haiti gives some explanation as to why some Haitian immigrants have encountered remnants of pre-Civil War racism and discomfort with Haiti. Irrational fears of disease are remnants of the wave of epidemics that swept the island decades ago. Haitian immigrants have encountered a lot of undeserved bias and racism as they have settled into this country. Still they have persisted and sought to build a better life for themselves and for their children.
Last week a candidate for the highest office in our country, who once held that position, in the midst of losing a debate, turned from all sense of rational argument and simply resorted to spewing lie after lie and included in that a lie garnered from the fringe right, based not at all in fact and debunked by city and county officials and then after the debate both the candidate and his running mate have continued to repeat the lie aimed at the hard-working Haitian immigrants who have settled in Springfield, Ohio. It was more than political rhetoric. It was irresponsible directing of hatred toward innocent people.
The candidate has long resorted to repeating lies not just out of a disrespect for the truth, but out of the practical knowledge that his base does not care what he does for them as long has he continues to do things against those with whom they disagree or with whom they are uncomfortable or afraid. Nearly half of the people of the country’s key swing states are saying that they intend to vote for this candidate.
The physical risk to the Haitian immigrants in Ohio is real. One only has to recall the violence directed against the Capitol on January 6, 2020, or the White supremacists marching in the streets, or other violent physical attacks that have resulted in death and injury to realize the real danger they face.
Regardless of the desperation of a candidate that is obviously struggling with cognitive decline, whose panic at crowd size causes him to exaggerate and lie continually, and whose panic at his inability to compete with his political opponent in rational argument, the use of lies that are capable of inciting violence crosses a line that no politician should be willing to cross. Then the candidate has the audacity to declare that he is the victim. It is the rhetoric of a weak coward.
But that rhetoric is holding sway with everyday people. And there is a very real possibility that the candidate that has no chance of winning the popular vote may still win enough electoral votes to become the President once again. His threats of mass deportations without regard to the legality of immigration status might be ruled illegal in the courts, but will surely result in additional suffering for people who have already suffered much in their lives.
I have wept over the attack on basic decency and the rejection of absolute truth in the past. I can slip into fear for the future. But I also know that the counter to the lies is the truth - truth that will set people free. And we must each be willing to stand up for the truth. For much is on our shoulders as citizens of this nation at this point in our history.
There is absolutely no evidence that any immigrants have stolen and eaten the pets of any people. We all need to be willing to stand up for the truth and now is our time.
Living fully
13/09/24 22:09
The mother of a brother-in-law turned 100 earlier this year. She has always been a live wire, interested in life, full of laughter, and showing positive attitude. She was pretty tired after all of the birthday celebrations, but soon was back at her apartment and doing pretty well. A little while later the combination of her symptoms prompted her care givers to start hospice care for her. She commented upon entering hospice care, “This should be interesting! I wonder what it will be like?” She was referring to the process of dying, not to hospice care. Not long afterward she predicted that she was ready to die and probably would do so within the next week or so. She didn’t.
She lived on to enjoy several family events, visits from grandchildren and great grandchildren and no long ago received an invitation to the Governor’s lunch for centenarians. She replied that she planned to be there. Then, a couple of days ago, she worked with the staff of the care center to make a trip of a little over 100 miles to take her first ride on a Zip Line.
When we received the video of her riding the zip line we said to each other, “She is going to live fully all the way to the end of her life.” She will, I am sure.
Family members are a bit unsure how to plan their fall and winter schedules knowing that it is likely that she will die sometime soon. On the other hand, there is no way to tell when that might happen. Part of the process of dying is not being in control of time. And the interface between life and death doesn’t operate on clock or calendar time.
In our way of measuring time, however, today is our daughter’s birthday. We like to tell people that on the day she was born in Grand Forks, North Dakota, we were in Berkeley, California. It was the easiest labor ever. She is, of course, adopted, and we were so lucky to have her come to our family when she was a tiny baby, after having been in foster care for almost a month. Noting her birthday, is for our family, a very important day of celebration. She is one of the greatest gifts a family could receive.
In a surprising way someone a generation older than I and someone a generation younger both are teaching me much about the meaning of life. Both have a certain capacity to live in the present. Being present in the experiences of this life does not mean eliminating the past or failing to think of the future.
With 100 years under her belt, our friend has a lot of memories of the past. She came of age during the recovery from the great depression in the period leading up the World War II. Her generation, sometimes called “The Greatest Generation” provided the young leadership that was necessary in wartime. She lived through the struggles of the Civil Rights movement’s tumultuous years in the late 1950s and 1960s. She is witness to so much history. But remembering the past is not the same thing as dwelling in the past. Her delight in her great grandchildren is just one sign that she understands that her memories are only part of her story. She belongs to a family that continues to bring forth futures.
Our daughter, celebrating a birthday 30 years behind the count I have, has a lot of dreams about the future. As the mother of a five-year-old she is invested in his future, concerned with enabling him to get a good education and have good experiences in life. She is concerned about the world we are leaving for his generation. Being aware of, invested in, and hopeful about the future, however, does not prevent her from living in the present. Her delight in a piece of artwork brought home from school, a new blossom on one of the plants in her garden, and the fun of playing games with family all are illustrations of what it means to live in the present.
I am deeply grateful for the people of different ages who are part of my life. Having a friend who has celebrated her 100th birthday reminds me that even though I sometimes feel like I am getting old, old is a mater of perspective. It is quite possible that I have many more years of living and learning and experiencing life ahead of me. I may not live to 100, but I hope that I can follow her example of living fully for each of the days that I am granted. And I am so grateful to have friends who are younger than I, who are in the midst of their careers, who juggle care for children with busy schedules, who have a fresh perspective on what is most important.
Throughout the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps in other parts the country as well, there are several senior living neighborhoods. These generally are advertised as for people over the age of 50 and generally do not have families with children. They have supportive services such as lawn care, exterior maintenance of homes and such. They often have game rooms or community buildings and places for meetings and gathering. They may offer activities for retired people. These communities are not attractive to me at this stage of my life. I am delighted to live on a street where the neighbor kids play basketball in the street, where I see homes decorated for the graduations of children from high school, and where there are people who are different ages than I. I feel that I need the presence of people of other ages in order to maintain balance.
Zip lining, parachuting, and bungee jumping aren’t on my personal list of things I want to do. I’m more likely to be a person who wants a walk on the beach or a visit to a preschool or a picnic in the park. Whatever the activities, I pray that I can maintain my positive attitude and find things to look forward to regardless of my age. After all, I’m setting examples for my friends who are younger than I.
She lived on to enjoy several family events, visits from grandchildren and great grandchildren and no long ago received an invitation to the Governor’s lunch for centenarians. She replied that she planned to be there. Then, a couple of days ago, she worked with the staff of the care center to make a trip of a little over 100 miles to take her first ride on a Zip Line.
When we received the video of her riding the zip line we said to each other, “She is going to live fully all the way to the end of her life.” She will, I am sure.
Family members are a bit unsure how to plan their fall and winter schedules knowing that it is likely that she will die sometime soon. On the other hand, there is no way to tell when that might happen. Part of the process of dying is not being in control of time. And the interface between life and death doesn’t operate on clock or calendar time.
In our way of measuring time, however, today is our daughter’s birthday. We like to tell people that on the day she was born in Grand Forks, North Dakota, we were in Berkeley, California. It was the easiest labor ever. She is, of course, adopted, and we were so lucky to have her come to our family when she was a tiny baby, after having been in foster care for almost a month. Noting her birthday, is for our family, a very important day of celebration. She is one of the greatest gifts a family could receive.
In a surprising way someone a generation older than I and someone a generation younger both are teaching me much about the meaning of life. Both have a certain capacity to live in the present. Being present in the experiences of this life does not mean eliminating the past or failing to think of the future.
With 100 years under her belt, our friend has a lot of memories of the past. She came of age during the recovery from the great depression in the period leading up the World War II. Her generation, sometimes called “The Greatest Generation” provided the young leadership that was necessary in wartime. She lived through the struggles of the Civil Rights movement’s tumultuous years in the late 1950s and 1960s. She is witness to so much history. But remembering the past is not the same thing as dwelling in the past. Her delight in her great grandchildren is just one sign that she understands that her memories are only part of her story. She belongs to a family that continues to bring forth futures.
Our daughter, celebrating a birthday 30 years behind the count I have, has a lot of dreams about the future. As the mother of a five-year-old she is invested in his future, concerned with enabling him to get a good education and have good experiences in life. She is concerned about the world we are leaving for his generation. Being aware of, invested in, and hopeful about the future, however, does not prevent her from living in the present. Her delight in a piece of artwork brought home from school, a new blossom on one of the plants in her garden, and the fun of playing games with family all are illustrations of what it means to live in the present.
I am deeply grateful for the people of different ages who are part of my life. Having a friend who has celebrated her 100th birthday reminds me that even though I sometimes feel like I am getting old, old is a mater of perspective. It is quite possible that I have many more years of living and learning and experiencing life ahead of me. I may not live to 100, but I hope that I can follow her example of living fully for each of the days that I am granted. And I am so grateful to have friends who are younger than I, who are in the midst of their careers, who juggle care for children with busy schedules, who have a fresh perspective on what is most important.
Throughout the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps in other parts the country as well, there are several senior living neighborhoods. These generally are advertised as for people over the age of 50 and generally do not have families with children. They have supportive services such as lawn care, exterior maintenance of homes and such. They often have game rooms or community buildings and places for meetings and gathering. They may offer activities for retired people. These communities are not attractive to me at this stage of my life. I am delighted to live on a street where the neighbor kids play basketball in the street, where I see homes decorated for the graduations of children from high school, and where there are people who are different ages than I. I feel that I need the presence of people of other ages in order to maintain balance.
Zip lining, parachuting, and bungee jumping aren’t on my personal list of things I want to do. I’m more likely to be a person who wants a walk on the beach or a visit to a preschool or a picnic in the park. Whatever the activities, I pray that I can maintain my positive attitude and find things to look forward to regardless of my age. After all, I’m setting examples for my friends who are younger than I.
Coffee
12/09/24 23:14
I remember the first time I drank a whole cup of coffee. I was hunting with my father and we stopped for lunch. We had packed sandwiches and he had a thermos of coffee. Often when we hunted, I would dip water from a stream. In those days the streams in the high country weren’t infected with Giardia an were safe to drink. But it was cold on that particular day and the little streams where we were following deer were frozen. There was a dusting of snow, but not enough to melt for drinking. My father offered me a cup of coffee and I took it and drank it with my lunch. I didn’t much care for the flavor, but it was warm and it made me feel grown up to be included in my father’s practices. After that time, I drank coffee, but only when I was on an excursion with my father.
When I went to college, I had some habits that I needed to change. I had been reading myself to sleep for years and now that i had a lot more reading to do, I needed to stay awake and alert and be able to retain what I was reading. The cafeteria at the college had unlimited beverages, so I got in the habit of having hot chocolate with my breakfast. That, however, seemed to make me sleepy. So I switched to coffee for breakfast and within a short time I was drinking coffee with most of my meals.
After college and graduate school, I began to develop a more mature taste for coffee. I discovered a roaster in a city we visited frequently that sold beans that had not been ground. I purchased a small grinder and started grinding my own coffee. I experimented with different blends and roasts and found several that I liked.
In North Dakota we discovered that people didn’t ask if you wanted coffee. They simply served you coffee. It was during those years that my wife started drinking coffee, at first to be polite to the people we visited, later because she developed a taste for coffee. North Dakotans drink a lot of coffee, but they don’t make their coffee very strong. At home, I brewed a stronger cup.
When we moved to Idaho, I lived in a city where there were several roasters and several espresso cafes. I developed a taste for espresso and eventually purchased my own espresso machine and a more capable grinder. When we moved to South Dakota I commented to some of our friends that the best cup of espresso available in Rapid City was in my kitchen.
Through our relationship with our sister church in Costa Rica, I learned the importance of organic coffee, shade grown coffee, and fairly traded coffee. I discovered that certified organic is a designation that costs the grower a lot of money and is beyond the reach of small farmers. They might follow organic practices, but they cannot afford to pay for the certification. A similar thing functions with fair trade. The costs of fair trade certification are born by the farmers and are substantial. Small farmers can earn more by forgoing the certification and finding customers who will purchase directly from them, thus the coffee has been fairly traded, but lacks the certification.
Shade grown coffee is important for a couple of reasons. First, coffee production and the expansion of the coffee industry is the sixth leading cause of deforestation in the world. Trees are cut down to grow coffee. As global warming continues to worsen, coffee is grown at higher and higher elevations, causing more trees to be cut down. Shade grown coffee comes from plant varieties that can grow beneath the forest canopy. It can also be grown beneath food crops like plantains. I used to come home from visits to Costa Rica with 40 pounds of coffee (the most allowed without requiring an import license). I brought roasted coffee, which is different from importing raw coffee beans in terms of import regulations. I purchased the coffee from a cooperative that produced shade grown organic coffee and offered it for sale directly to us.
Then, when I reached my sixties, I developed a bit of an irregular hearth rhythm. It wasn’t serious, some PVCs and PACs, but it was enough to get my doctor to run a bunch of cardiac tests and to put me on a medicine that regulates heart rhythm. I also learned that caffeine can be a trigger for atrial fibrillation. I gave up caffeine and that meant giving up coffee. I simply stopped drinking it. I drank herbal and decaffeinated teas. I still occasionally made tea lattes and used my espresso machine to steam milk, but it was getting less and less use and I was purchasing less and less coffee. Then Susan developed a heart problem and also gave up caffeine. The espresso machine went into storage for nearly four years.
These days I drink chai, which has caffeine almost every day, but limit myself to a single cup. And I have decaffeinated coffee from time to time. The espresso machine is back on the kitchen counter, but is used mostly when we have guests. I keep a small supply of good coffee available to serve guests along with some decaffeinated beans.
Along the way, I experimented with some non-coffee beverages, some of which claimed to be caffeine substitutes. A main ingredient in many of them is chicory which is an acquired taste. I have learned to drink it but don’t relish it the way I like the taste of coffee.
A company named Atomo, in Seattle, is trying to upend the coffee business with a bean-free beverage that has caffeine. There are now more than 70 coffee shops that offer their beverage made of date seeds, ramón seeds, sunflower seed extract, fructose, pea protein, millet, lemon, guava, fenugreek seeds, caffeine and baking soda. It is interesting to note that the caffeine that they add to the mix comes from the process of decaffeinating green matcha tea. I haven’t tasted their product, but I can’t say that the recipe leaves me wanting to try it.
I’ve made a lot of changes in my life. I’ve gone from not drinking coffee to being a bit of a coffee snob to not drinking it to occasionally having a cup of decaf. Who knows what beverages I’ll be drinking a decade from now? I’m not planning to keep Atomo on hand at my house yet, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.
When I went to college, I had some habits that I needed to change. I had been reading myself to sleep for years and now that i had a lot more reading to do, I needed to stay awake and alert and be able to retain what I was reading. The cafeteria at the college had unlimited beverages, so I got in the habit of having hot chocolate with my breakfast. That, however, seemed to make me sleepy. So I switched to coffee for breakfast and within a short time I was drinking coffee with most of my meals.
After college and graduate school, I began to develop a more mature taste for coffee. I discovered a roaster in a city we visited frequently that sold beans that had not been ground. I purchased a small grinder and started grinding my own coffee. I experimented with different blends and roasts and found several that I liked.
In North Dakota we discovered that people didn’t ask if you wanted coffee. They simply served you coffee. It was during those years that my wife started drinking coffee, at first to be polite to the people we visited, later because she developed a taste for coffee. North Dakotans drink a lot of coffee, but they don’t make their coffee very strong. At home, I brewed a stronger cup.
When we moved to Idaho, I lived in a city where there were several roasters and several espresso cafes. I developed a taste for espresso and eventually purchased my own espresso machine and a more capable grinder. When we moved to South Dakota I commented to some of our friends that the best cup of espresso available in Rapid City was in my kitchen.
Through our relationship with our sister church in Costa Rica, I learned the importance of organic coffee, shade grown coffee, and fairly traded coffee. I discovered that certified organic is a designation that costs the grower a lot of money and is beyond the reach of small farmers. They might follow organic practices, but they cannot afford to pay for the certification. A similar thing functions with fair trade. The costs of fair trade certification are born by the farmers and are substantial. Small farmers can earn more by forgoing the certification and finding customers who will purchase directly from them, thus the coffee has been fairly traded, but lacks the certification.
Shade grown coffee is important for a couple of reasons. First, coffee production and the expansion of the coffee industry is the sixth leading cause of deforestation in the world. Trees are cut down to grow coffee. As global warming continues to worsen, coffee is grown at higher and higher elevations, causing more trees to be cut down. Shade grown coffee comes from plant varieties that can grow beneath the forest canopy. It can also be grown beneath food crops like plantains. I used to come home from visits to Costa Rica with 40 pounds of coffee (the most allowed without requiring an import license). I brought roasted coffee, which is different from importing raw coffee beans in terms of import regulations. I purchased the coffee from a cooperative that produced shade grown organic coffee and offered it for sale directly to us.
Then, when I reached my sixties, I developed a bit of an irregular hearth rhythm. It wasn’t serious, some PVCs and PACs, but it was enough to get my doctor to run a bunch of cardiac tests and to put me on a medicine that regulates heart rhythm. I also learned that caffeine can be a trigger for atrial fibrillation. I gave up caffeine and that meant giving up coffee. I simply stopped drinking it. I drank herbal and decaffeinated teas. I still occasionally made tea lattes and used my espresso machine to steam milk, but it was getting less and less use and I was purchasing less and less coffee. Then Susan developed a heart problem and also gave up caffeine. The espresso machine went into storage for nearly four years.
These days I drink chai, which has caffeine almost every day, but limit myself to a single cup. And I have decaffeinated coffee from time to time. The espresso machine is back on the kitchen counter, but is used mostly when we have guests. I keep a small supply of good coffee available to serve guests along with some decaffeinated beans.
Along the way, I experimented with some non-coffee beverages, some of which claimed to be caffeine substitutes. A main ingredient in many of them is chicory which is an acquired taste. I have learned to drink it but don’t relish it the way I like the taste of coffee.
A company named Atomo, in Seattle, is trying to upend the coffee business with a bean-free beverage that has caffeine. There are now more than 70 coffee shops that offer their beverage made of date seeds, ramón seeds, sunflower seed extract, fructose, pea protein, millet, lemon, guava, fenugreek seeds, caffeine and baking soda. It is interesting to note that the caffeine that they add to the mix comes from the process of decaffeinating green matcha tea. I haven’t tasted their product, but I can’t say that the recipe leaves me wanting to try it.
I’ve made a lot of changes in my life. I’ve gone from not drinking coffee to being a bit of a coffee snob to not drinking it to occasionally having a cup of decaf. Who knows what beverages I’ll be drinking a decade from now? I’m not planning to keep Atomo on hand at my house yet, but I’ll try to keep an open mind.
Southern culture
11/09/24 23:15
I grew up in a town of about 1,200 people. In our town at that time we had a Catholic Church, A Lutheran Church, An Episcopal Church, A Church of God, an Evangelical Brethren Church, and our church, the Congregational Church. In our church we had a special letter that was framed and hung on the wall in the entryway. It said that our church was the Methodist Church for our community and it was signed by the Bishop of the Montana Methodist Church. And the letter also said that our church was the Presbyterian Church for our community and it was signed by an executive presbyter. That sign was important to me because I knew that my father’s family was Presbyterian and my mother’s family was Methodist so the Congregational Church was the place where they could all meet in our town.
Like us, our daughter lives in what is called a census designated area. It has a name like a town, but it is not organized or incorporated. Dalzell, South Carolina has a population of 3,417. But it abuts Sumpter, SC, which has a population of 42,757. There are a lot more people here than in the town where I was raised, so it shouldn’t surprise me that there are more churches.
Since we are in the south, there are a lot of Baptist churches. The first street we turn onto when exiting our daughter’s subdivision is Peach Orchard Drive. Shaw Air Force Base is on that street, before we get to the gate of the base, we pass Hopewell Baptist Church, Long Branch Baptist Church, Springbank Baptist Church, and Shaw Heights Baptist Church.
Back home, north of Seattle, we joke that the planning and zoning commission requires that there be no spaces where you can’t see a Starbucks. Go out the front door of a Starbucks and look to your left and you can see another Starbucks. Look to the right and you can see another Starbucks. Of course this is an exaggeration. But there are a lot of Starbucks coffee houses in Seattle and the surrounding area.
Baptist Churches around here are a bit like Starbucks in the Pacific Northwest. You can’t quite see Hopewell Baptist Church from Long Branch Baptist Church, but you don’t have to drive too far. In the greater Sumpter area you could choose from Alice Drive Baptist Church, Sumpter First Baptist Church, First Baptist Missionary Church, Sumpter Baptist Temple, Crosspoint Baptist Church, Crosswell Baptist Church, Bethel Baptist Church, Northside, Memorial Baptist Church, Eastside Baptist Church, Westside Baptist Church, Jehovah Missionary Baptist Church, Wedgefield Baptist Church, Trinity Missionary Baptist Church, Wise Drive Baptist Church, or Graham Baptist Church. I’m sure I’ve missed a bunch of them.
One explanation for all of the Baptist churches is that Baptists are good at arguing with each other. Henry Martin Robert was an engineering officer in the Army who wrote Robert’s Rules of Order. His quest for rules for running meetings came from his frustration with trying to preside at a meeting at a Baptist church. One of my friends, who is an American Baptist pastor jokes that it only takes a comma to make a doctrinal argument in the Baptist Church. He also told me that congregations have split over the temperature of the water in the baptistry. I’m pretty sure that the final is either an exaggeration or a joke, but I’m not sure.
Of course, in the Pacific Northwest there are other coffee shops. We have Seattle’s Best Coffee, Whidby Coffee, Cruising Coffee, Woods Coffee, and a dozen independent coffee shops. Statistically Seattle is second to San Francisco when it comes to the number of coffee shops per person. And Washington is the second most coffee obsessed state, falling behind Alaska in per capita coffee shops. But there are a lot of places to get coffee.
Here in South Carolina there are a lot of places to get religion. If you don’t prefer Baptist churches, between Hopewell Baptist and Long Branch Baptist are Redemption Ministries Church, Northwest Christian Ministries Church and Family Restoration Church. And there are churches with denominational names I recognize like Methodist, Presbyterian, Catholic and Episcopal. There are a couple of Lutheran Churches. There are no Congregational Churches in South Carolina. Because of the denomination’s fierce anti-slavery position, those congregations were declared illegal prior to the Civil War. Our denomination, the United Church of Christ has only four congregations in the state. Two of them are in Charleston. The closest one to Sumpter is in Columbia.
Like the Baptists, the African Methodist Episcopal Church has a lot of congregations in the area. If you wanted to worship in an AME church your could choose from St Luke AME Church
Saint Paul AME Church, Bethel AME Church, Mt Olive AME Church, Quinn Chapel AME Church, High Hills AME Church, Wayman Chapel AME Church, Allen Chapel AME Church, Reid Chapel AME Church, Pine Hill AME Church, Clinton Chapel AME Church, orUnion Station AME Church.
There is a new Scooters Coffee Drive Through on Peach Orchard Drive and there is a Starbucks near the Lowes Home Improvement Shop, but coffee shops aren’t as big a deal here in South Carolina as they are in Washington. Then again, there aren’t many restaurants in Washington where you can order sweet tea and get the wonderful elixir that they serve around here. Fast food restaurants are quick to say, “We have REAL sweet tea,” if you inquire. If you ask for a coffee shop, you are likely to be directed to a Dunkin’ Donuts shop, which most likely will not have an espresso machine.
I’m confident that there are more alligators (over 100,000) in South Carolina than coffee shops. We’ve yet to encounter an alligator in our explorations of the area, but we’ve seen some swampy places that look like good alligator habitat. There are no alligators in Washington. The water is too cold, which makes me think that alligators might be Baptists.
It is a joy to have the privilege of traveling to a place that is different from our home. We are enjoying exploring and learning about southern culture and the people of South Carolina. We are, however, outsiders, and there is much that we still do not understand.
Like us, our daughter lives in what is called a census designated area. It has a name like a town, but it is not organized or incorporated. Dalzell, South Carolina has a population of 3,417. But it abuts Sumpter, SC, which has a population of 42,757. There are a lot more people here than in the town where I was raised, so it shouldn’t surprise me that there are more churches.
Since we are in the south, there are a lot of Baptist churches. The first street we turn onto when exiting our daughter’s subdivision is Peach Orchard Drive. Shaw Air Force Base is on that street, before we get to the gate of the base, we pass Hopewell Baptist Church, Long Branch Baptist Church, Springbank Baptist Church, and Shaw Heights Baptist Church.
Back home, north of Seattle, we joke that the planning and zoning commission requires that there be no spaces where you can’t see a Starbucks. Go out the front door of a Starbucks and look to your left and you can see another Starbucks. Look to the right and you can see another Starbucks. Of course this is an exaggeration. But there are a lot of Starbucks coffee houses in Seattle and the surrounding area.
Baptist Churches around here are a bit like Starbucks in the Pacific Northwest. You can’t quite see Hopewell Baptist Church from Long Branch Baptist Church, but you don’t have to drive too far. In the greater Sumpter area you could choose from Alice Drive Baptist Church, Sumpter First Baptist Church, First Baptist Missionary Church, Sumpter Baptist Temple, Crosspoint Baptist Church, Crosswell Baptist Church, Bethel Baptist Church, Northside, Memorial Baptist Church, Eastside Baptist Church, Westside Baptist Church, Jehovah Missionary Baptist Church, Wedgefield Baptist Church, Trinity Missionary Baptist Church, Wise Drive Baptist Church, or Graham Baptist Church. I’m sure I’ve missed a bunch of them.
One explanation for all of the Baptist churches is that Baptists are good at arguing with each other. Henry Martin Robert was an engineering officer in the Army who wrote Robert’s Rules of Order. His quest for rules for running meetings came from his frustration with trying to preside at a meeting at a Baptist church. One of my friends, who is an American Baptist pastor jokes that it only takes a comma to make a doctrinal argument in the Baptist Church. He also told me that congregations have split over the temperature of the water in the baptistry. I’m pretty sure that the final is either an exaggeration or a joke, but I’m not sure.
Of course, in the Pacific Northwest there are other coffee shops. We have Seattle’s Best Coffee, Whidby Coffee, Cruising Coffee, Woods Coffee, and a dozen independent coffee shops. Statistically Seattle is second to San Francisco when it comes to the number of coffee shops per person. And Washington is the second most coffee obsessed state, falling behind Alaska in per capita coffee shops. But there are a lot of places to get coffee.
Here in South Carolina there are a lot of places to get religion. If you don’t prefer Baptist churches, between Hopewell Baptist and Long Branch Baptist are Redemption Ministries Church, Northwest Christian Ministries Church and Family Restoration Church. And there are churches with denominational names I recognize like Methodist, Presbyterian, Catholic and Episcopal. There are a couple of Lutheran Churches. There are no Congregational Churches in South Carolina. Because of the denomination’s fierce anti-slavery position, those congregations were declared illegal prior to the Civil War. Our denomination, the United Church of Christ has only four congregations in the state. Two of them are in Charleston. The closest one to Sumpter is in Columbia.
Like the Baptists, the African Methodist Episcopal Church has a lot of congregations in the area. If you wanted to worship in an AME church your could choose from St Luke AME Church
Saint Paul AME Church, Bethel AME Church, Mt Olive AME Church, Quinn Chapel AME Church, High Hills AME Church, Wayman Chapel AME Church, Allen Chapel AME Church, Reid Chapel AME Church, Pine Hill AME Church, Clinton Chapel AME Church, orUnion Station AME Church.
There is a new Scooters Coffee Drive Through on Peach Orchard Drive and there is a Starbucks near the Lowes Home Improvement Shop, but coffee shops aren’t as big a deal here in South Carolina as they are in Washington. Then again, there aren’t many restaurants in Washington where you can order sweet tea and get the wonderful elixir that they serve around here. Fast food restaurants are quick to say, “We have REAL sweet tea,” if you inquire. If you ask for a coffee shop, you are likely to be directed to a Dunkin’ Donuts shop, which most likely will not have an espresso machine.
I’m confident that there are more alligators (over 100,000) in South Carolina than coffee shops. We’ve yet to encounter an alligator in our explorations of the area, but we’ve seen some swampy places that look like good alligator habitat. There are no alligators in Washington. The water is too cold, which makes me think that alligators might be Baptists.
It is a joy to have the privilege of traveling to a place that is different from our home. We are enjoying exploring and learning about southern culture and the people of South Carolina. We are, however, outsiders, and there is much that we still do not understand.
A bit of drama
10/09/24 22:43
The five year old was tired. He said he had no energy. He didn’t even have enough energy to get up from his chair and come to the dinner table. He slid off of the chair onto the floor and laid there for a few minutes. Revived by a tickle and the promise of a hamburger for supper he managed to stand up and make it to the table.
The same five year old, near the end of the day, after school and picture day and a doctor’s appointment and a trip to a big box home store with grandpa, came out of the hobby store with grandma. He had too much energy to simply walk. He had to skip and jump as he made his way to the car.
One night during our visit our daughter prepared a lovely pork loin and green beans with butter. As we sat down to eat the five year old declared that he wanted a hot dog. His mother said, “I think you’ll like this pork. It is really good. At least try a bite.” He agreed to do so. His mother put a very small bite of pork on his fork. He held it up to his mouth and took the smallest sliver of meat from the fork into his mouth. The look on his face was one of nearly complete revision. He chewed and chewed as if he meat was tough and kept the grimace on his face as he did so. Finally he made a big production of swallowing and declared that he did not like the pork. He shook with a little shiver as he repeated his request for a hot dog.
When the hot dog was delivered it was eaten with great relish.
Of course it is impossible to know the career choices of a five year old. It is possible that he will pursue multiple jobs over the course of his adult life. It is possible that his career will be something that we can’t even imagine from this point of view. But if he were to consider one of the many professions available these days, I think that acting might be his ticket. He’s really good at it.
He didn’t dislike the pork. He wanted a hot dog. He wasn’t really out of energy, he just needed the right incentive. And through it all, he is a terrific actor.
Miss Leanne, the kindergarten teacher must have a wonderful job. At least I think that it is a job that I might enjoy. A classroom full of first rate actors who are willing to wear their emotions on their sleeves. There is no attempt at covering up likes and dislikes, joys and sorrows. The entire class is learning how to get the things they want and need in life and they have become very adept at saying the right words and making the right facial expressions and showing the right body language to make their way in this world. Being a teacher of these children must be a new experience every day and more than a few wonderful and funny stories to tell as well.
I once read that being cute is a survival skill for an infant. Born into this world with no ability to provide or care for itself, needing help with everything from eating to keeping clean to controlling body temperature, an infant is totally dependent. But they are incredibly cute and fascinating to watch. We pay attention to them constantly in part because they need attention, but also because they are so fascinating.
What I have learned, however, is that it isn’t just infants who are fascinating. I was clearly charmed by our children when they were infants. I could spend hours just looking at them and studying their faces and behaviors. But I continued to be deeply interested in them as they grew up. I loved their preschool years as they learned that others have feelings and struggled to internalize morality.
I was engaged by our children in their elementary years. I volunteered in their classrooms in part to see how their teachers taught. But I also got incredible meaning and joy from observing their classmates. Each child is unique and different from each other one, but there are some traits that they share.
For all of my life I have been amazed by teens. They can be so capable and yet so senseless all at the same time. They are trying on different ways of being in the life. I once said to a colleague that I enjoyed middle school summer camp because every child changed so much in a week that their parents hardly recognized them when they came to pick them up. If there was a youth who was hard to like at the beginning of the week, just hold on because that person would change. If there was a behavior you didn’t like, hold on and it would change.
Every stage of being a parent has been a joy for me. I feel so grateful that I was given the gift of being a father. Seeing our children as adults with their own families is another phase of life that fills me with awe and joy.
That five year old has a mother who can keep up with him. She can see through the drama and appreciate it for what it is. She can listen intently to not just the words, but the feelings beneath the words and respond to both with grace and ease. She continues to be a wonder and a marvel for me to witness.
As we were riding in the car, we began to discuss plans for the weekend. We were checking weather forecasts and planning potential activities. Not wanting to set up the five year old for a potential disappointment, his mother was spelling some of the words as we talked about plans. When she said, if we go to the Z - o -o, the five year old piped up from the back seat. “I want to go to the zoo.”
I don’t know if it was his mother or Miss Leanne, but one or both of them have been teaching him about letters and words and some pre reader skills. And now he knows how to spell, which will make adult conversations even more challenging. The drama of real life is far more interesting than any show on television.
The same five year old, near the end of the day, after school and picture day and a doctor’s appointment and a trip to a big box home store with grandpa, came out of the hobby store with grandma. He had too much energy to simply walk. He had to skip and jump as he made his way to the car.
One night during our visit our daughter prepared a lovely pork loin and green beans with butter. As we sat down to eat the five year old declared that he wanted a hot dog. His mother said, “I think you’ll like this pork. It is really good. At least try a bite.” He agreed to do so. His mother put a very small bite of pork on his fork. He held it up to his mouth and took the smallest sliver of meat from the fork into his mouth. The look on his face was one of nearly complete revision. He chewed and chewed as if he meat was tough and kept the grimace on his face as he did so. Finally he made a big production of swallowing and declared that he did not like the pork. He shook with a little shiver as he repeated his request for a hot dog.
When the hot dog was delivered it was eaten with great relish.
Of course it is impossible to know the career choices of a five year old. It is possible that he will pursue multiple jobs over the course of his adult life. It is possible that his career will be something that we can’t even imagine from this point of view. But if he were to consider one of the many professions available these days, I think that acting might be his ticket. He’s really good at it.
He didn’t dislike the pork. He wanted a hot dog. He wasn’t really out of energy, he just needed the right incentive. And through it all, he is a terrific actor.
Miss Leanne, the kindergarten teacher must have a wonderful job. At least I think that it is a job that I might enjoy. A classroom full of first rate actors who are willing to wear their emotions on their sleeves. There is no attempt at covering up likes and dislikes, joys and sorrows. The entire class is learning how to get the things they want and need in life and they have become very adept at saying the right words and making the right facial expressions and showing the right body language to make their way in this world. Being a teacher of these children must be a new experience every day and more than a few wonderful and funny stories to tell as well.
I once read that being cute is a survival skill for an infant. Born into this world with no ability to provide or care for itself, needing help with everything from eating to keeping clean to controlling body temperature, an infant is totally dependent. But they are incredibly cute and fascinating to watch. We pay attention to them constantly in part because they need attention, but also because they are so fascinating.
What I have learned, however, is that it isn’t just infants who are fascinating. I was clearly charmed by our children when they were infants. I could spend hours just looking at them and studying their faces and behaviors. But I continued to be deeply interested in them as they grew up. I loved their preschool years as they learned that others have feelings and struggled to internalize morality.
I was engaged by our children in their elementary years. I volunteered in their classrooms in part to see how their teachers taught. But I also got incredible meaning and joy from observing their classmates. Each child is unique and different from each other one, but there are some traits that they share.
For all of my life I have been amazed by teens. They can be so capable and yet so senseless all at the same time. They are trying on different ways of being in the life. I once said to a colleague that I enjoyed middle school summer camp because every child changed so much in a week that their parents hardly recognized them when they came to pick them up. If there was a youth who was hard to like at the beginning of the week, just hold on because that person would change. If there was a behavior you didn’t like, hold on and it would change.
Every stage of being a parent has been a joy for me. I feel so grateful that I was given the gift of being a father. Seeing our children as adults with their own families is another phase of life that fills me with awe and joy.
That five year old has a mother who can keep up with him. She can see through the drama and appreciate it for what it is. She can listen intently to not just the words, but the feelings beneath the words and respond to both with grace and ease. She continues to be a wonder and a marvel for me to witness.
As we were riding in the car, we began to discuss plans for the weekend. We were checking weather forecasts and planning potential activities. Not wanting to set up the five year old for a potential disappointment, his mother was spelling some of the words as we talked about plans. When she said, if we go to the Z - o -o, the five year old piped up from the back seat. “I want to go to the zoo.”
I don’t know if it was his mother or Miss Leanne, but one or both of them have been teaching him about letters and words and some pre reader skills. And now he knows how to spell, which will make adult conversations even more challenging. The drama of real life is far more interesting than any show on television.
Chores
09/09/24 22:11
I am used to chore lists being a part of vacation travel. My father died when I was 27 years old and every visit to my mom until she moved into our home near the end of her life I would arrive and go over the list of things that I could do for my mother. Chores included minor household repairs, hanging pictures, cleaning hard to reach windows, and the like. They were never really big jobs, just little things that were hard for my mother to do. It was natural to me and so having a few chores to do when I travel seems like the way things should be.
When our children were younger, there were always a few “Dad Chores” when we visited them. Usually there were minor car maintenance items such as changing the oil or replacing a light bulb. It seemed like there was always something that aI could do that combined my vacation travel with a few tasks.
Things have shifted a bit with our son now that we live just down the road from their place. There are always things that need doing at the farm. I’ve built fence, repaired windows, milled baseboard, built steps and a small deck, and many other chores. In addition, I’ve added a few farm chores of my own by keeping bees at the place. I also have my shop work, building canoes and kayaks located in the barn at their farm, so there is no end to the tasks to be done when I’m around their place. I try to be helpful for them, asking what needs to be done or what is the highest priority.
I naturally expected that there might be a rather large chore list for this visit to our daughter. Her husband has been deployed for nearly five months overseas and so she has been responsible for their house and raising their son without his usual help. I have been surprised that the list is reasonably short, however. There are a few pictures to hang. Yesterday I replaced a couple of boards in the ramp to the garden shed. It is time to raise the monkey bars on our grandson’s play structure. He’s growing fast and he’s ready for different challenges. I also have gathered materials to replace the door trim on a couple of doors that were chewed by their dog. As chore lists go, my list for this visit is fairly short.
Of course there are always other things I can do. I can wash cars, clean out gutters, and wash windows. I know if I look around there is no shortage of tasks to be done.
A short chore list might be a sign of the passing of generations. I’m growing older and have less energy than once was the case. Even though I’m fairly technologically savvy, I am not used to how much our daughter and her husband are able to keep in constant communication even though he is working half a world away. They video chat a couple of times each day. He consults on home maintenance chores and is very good at talking her though what needs to be done, including telling her where the tools are kept and how to use them.
I know that I don’t have quite as much energy as once was the case. It is also the case that I don’t get bored as easily as I used to. I’m content to sit on the front porch and watch the neighbors go by or sit out back listening to the birds and petting the neighbor’s cat.
Yesterday afternoon we went to our grandson’s soccer practice. Our daughter was out on the field with the children and other parents, kicking the ball, running around, helping children learn the routines, and making sure they listened to the coach. I was content to sit in a lawn chair and watch the action from the sidelines.
Since I am not riding my own bicycle while on this trip, I’ve been riding the exercise bicycle at our daughter’s home. It has a chart printed on it describing the settings for various exercise goals. The chart gives settings for the bike and times to ride based on age and activity level. I realized, however, that I’m off of the chart. The exercise chart ends with age 65 and it has been six years since I was 65.
I guess I need to be honest about my age and ability and accept the fact that I’m not the one who is responsible for all of the chores any more. I can see that our children are very capable at taking care of their families, homes, and vehicles. I recognize that they are better at making certain kinds of decisions than I. When we went to the coast last weekend our daughter did all of the driving, something that I used to always do. She is a safe driver and I’m very comfortable riding with her.
Still, I hope that our children will continue to think up a few chores for me to do when we come to visit. They don’t need to be dramatic or big, just a few things that make me feel useful, and remind me that I can contribute to family life. I’m still pretty good at doing dishes, but I haven’t been asked to do many on this visit. I have done a few and I’m sure I’ll find a few more before we head for home, but is the case when we are not visiting, our daughter is a very capable person and she is responsible to get the necessary chores done.
I’ll pace myself and do just a few chores each day so that I don’t get them done too quickly. Our daughter doesn’t need to have the additional task of thinking up more things to keep me busy. I can be quite content with just being here and visiting her and our grandson. I’ll make sure to get all of the chores done, and I hope that she will have more for me to do when I have done so.
After all, chores are a part of vacation for me, though since I’ve retired, I’m not sure what constitutes a vacation.
When our children were younger, there were always a few “Dad Chores” when we visited them. Usually there were minor car maintenance items such as changing the oil or replacing a light bulb. It seemed like there was always something that aI could do that combined my vacation travel with a few tasks.
Things have shifted a bit with our son now that we live just down the road from their place. There are always things that need doing at the farm. I’ve built fence, repaired windows, milled baseboard, built steps and a small deck, and many other chores. In addition, I’ve added a few farm chores of my own by keeping bees at the place. I also have my shop work, building canoes and kayaks located in the barn at their farm, so there is no end to the tasks to be done when I’m around their place. I try to be helpful for them, asking what needs to be done or what is the highest priority.
I naturally expected that there might be a rather large chore list for this visit to our daughter. Her husband has been deployed for nearly five months overseas and so she has been responsible for their house and raising their son without his usual help. I have been surprised that the list is reasonably short, however. There are a few pictures to hang. Yesterday I replaced a couple of boards in the ramp to the garden shed. It is time to raise the monkey bars on our grandson’s play structure. He’s growing fast and he’s ready for different challenges. I also have gathered materials to replace the door trim on a couple of doors that were chewed by their dog. As chore lists go, my list for this visit is fairly short.
Of course there are always other things I can do. I can wash cars, clean out gutters, and wash windows. I know if I look around there is no shortage of tasks to be done.
A short chore list might be a sign of the passing of generations. I’m growing older and have less energy than once was the case. Even though I’m fairly technologically savvy, I am not used to how much our daughter and her husband are able to keep in constant communication even though he is working half a world away. They video chat a couple of times each day. He consults on home maintenance chores and is very good at talking her though what needs to be done, including telling her where the tools are kept and how to use them.
I know that I don’t have quite as much energy as once was the case. It is also the case that I don’t get bored as easily as I used to. I’m content to sit on the front porch and watch the neighbors go by or sit out back listening to the birds and petting the neighbor’s cat.
Yesterday afternoon we went to our grandson’s soccer practice. Our daughter was out on the field with the children and other parents, kicking the ball, running around, helping children learn the routines, and making sure they listened to the coach. I was content to sit in a lawn chair and watch the action from the sidelines.
Since I am not riding my own bicycle while on this trip, I’ve been riding the exercise bicycle at our daughter’s home. It has a chart printed on it describing the settings for various exercise goals. The chart gives settings for the bike and times to ride based on age and activity level. I realized, however, that I’m off of the chart. The exercise chart ends with age 65 and it has been six years since I was 65.
I guess I need to be honest about my age and ability and accept the fact that I’m not the one who is responsible for all of the chores any more. I can see that our children are very capable at taking care of their families, homes, and vehicles. I recognize that they are better at making certain kinds of decisions than I. When we went to the coast last weekend our daughter did all of the driving, something that I used to always do. She is a safe driver and I’m very comfortable riding with her.
Still, I hope that our children will continue to think up a few chores for me to do when we come to visit. They don’t need to be dramatic or big, just a few things that make me feel useful, and remind me that I can contribute to family life. I’m still pretty good at doing dishes, but I haven’t been asked to do many on this visit. I have done a few and I’m sure I’ll find a few more before we head for home, but is the case when we are not visiting, our daughter is a very capable person and she is responsible to get the necessary chores done.
I’ll pace myself and do just a few chores each day so that I don’t get them done too quickly. Our daughter doesn’t need to have the additional task of thinking up more things to keep me busy. I can be quite content with just being here and visiting her and our grandson. I’ll make sure to get all of the chores done, and I hope that she will have more for me to do when I have done so.
After all, chores are a part of vacation for me, though since I’ve retired, I’m not sure what constitutes a vacation.
Thanks, George!
08/09/24 21:42
We have had a remarkable year when it comes to family birthdays. We have been with each of our grandchildren on that child’s birthday. We also were with our son on his birthday and his wife on her birthday. At the end of this week we will be with our daughter on her birthday. The only birthday we have missed is our son-in-law who has been deployed including on his birthday. Having our daughter as part of an Air Force family we are learning that the enlisted members of the service are not the only ones who sacrifice for national defense. Their families also learn to make sacrifices to support their service.
We began the celebration of our daughter’s birthday a week early by taking a trip with her and her son to Isle of the Palms for some beach time, rest and relaxation, good eating, and fun play. We made the trip this past weekend because our grandson has a soccer match next Saturday and we don’t want to miss that. Birthdays are often rescheduled in our family. We want to give them the time and attention they deserve and sometimes in a busy family with many obligations it doesn’t work out to celebrate on the actual day. So we have gotten used to adjusting our celebrations.
As we left the Isle of Palms today it was raining. It seemed appropriate to have some gray skies and drizzle as we departed. We had exceptional weather during our visit and although there were some clouds, the weather was perfect for playing in the ocean, watching dolphins from the shore, swimming in the swimming pool, and the other activities of our weekend.
Back at her home it hasn’t rained very much. This is a place that can get some heavy rainfall and they have already had the consequences of a hurricane passing through their state this fall bringing torrential rain. It is likely that more rain is in store for South Carolina yet this fall. We were fortunate, however, to have our time at the beach at a time when the weather was good.
I was thinking of gray days because our new home in Washington is in a place that is known for its gray days and rainy weather. It isn’t the wettest part of Washington, nor is it the wettest area of the United States, but we do get quite a few cloudy days from late fall through early spring. For some the gray skies combine with the short days at the 49th parallel to touch off a bit of seasonal affective disorder. So far I haven’t found the weather to be much of a problem for me, but we did invest in some good rain gear to facilitate getting outside. What would be depressing for me would be to have to stay indoors all the time. I like to go outside and breathe fresh air. Owning a good rain jacket, rain paints, and waterproof shoes seems like a good investment in emotional well being.
Many years ago, when we were part of regular trips to Costa Rica to work with our sister church there, we often traveled at the edge of Costa Rica’s rainy season. We got rained on several times, including one time when we had rented a bus to take the children of the church on a field trip to a volcano. We really got wet trying to see the volcano and we had to eat our lunch on the bus to have a dry place for our meal. It was a fun adventure, but not quite what we had planned.
After that time we got into the habit of saying that we’d let George take care of the weather. George Zeise was a pioneer of the sister church relationship and a faithful mission visitor to Costa Rica. He and his wife Mae Louise were beloved both in our congregation and in our sister congregation in Costa Rica. After George passed away it seemed to us to make sense to let George take care of the weather since it was something over which we had no control.
I have no desire to be able to control the weather. What I do wish is that I will maintain the flexibility and sense of adventure required to deal with whatever weather comes my way. I’m pleased to live where I no longer have to shovel large amounts of deep snow from my driveway, but I do occasionally miss the snowy days of winter. I have often said that I put in my seven winters in North Dakota and so do not require the experience of -30 temperatures to feel like I am fully alive. The weather of the place we now live suits me fine.
I do not, however, believe that the weather is superior to weather in other places. We are fortunate to live in a place that has fewer extremes. Summer days rarely climb into the 90s. Winter days usually stay above the teens. That is comfortable for me. And I’m comfortable letting George take care of the weather.
It worked for our family last weekend. We had the weather we needed for the adventure we had chosen. We could hardly ask for more. Thanks, George!
Having said all of that, I am also aware that there are so many for whom the weather has not worked out. Women in Sub-Saharan Africa who are walking long distances to get water for their families because local wells have run dry are the victims of harsh weather. Families along the Fraser River whose homes still cannot be occupied following floods three years ago who have found out that they cannot rebuild because of an additional flow of debris this year are the victims of harsh weather. Those living on South Pacific Islands whose islands are disappearing due to rising sea levels are victims of harsh weather. There are thousands who have been stranded in airports due to harsh weather. Victims of hurricanes and cyclones and tornadoes don’t make light of weather forecasts.
Our attitude towards the weather is a delicate balance. We try to be prepared and have the right equipment to deal with the weather where we find ourselves. We try to pay attention and anticipate major weather events. And we realize that there is also a factor of luck in the weather we receive. May we never forget to be grateful for everyday blessings such as a climate that supports life and the activities we enjoy.
We began the celebration of our daughter’s birthday a week early by taking a trip with her and her son to Isle of the Palms for some beach time, rest and relaxation, good eating, and fun play. We made the trip this past weekend because our grandson has a soccer match next Saturday and we don’t want to miss that. Birthdays are often rescheduled in our family. We want to give them the time and attention they deserve and sometimes in a busy family with many obligations it doesn’t work out to celebrate on the actual day. So we have gotten used to adjusting our celebrations.
As we left the Isle of Palms today it was raining. It seemed appropriate to have some gray skies and drizzle as we departed. We had exceptional weather during our visit and although there were some clouds, the weather was perfect for playing in the ocean, watching dolphins from the shore, swimming in the swimming pool, and the other activities of our weekend.
Back at her home it hasn’t rained very much. This is a place that can get some heavy rainfall and they have already had the consequences of a hurricane passing through their state this fall bringing torrential rain. It is likely that more rain is in store for South Carolina yet this fall. We were fortunate, however, to have our time at the beach at a time when the weather was good.
I was thinking of gray days because our new home in Washington is in a place that is known for its gray days and rainy weather. It isn’t the wettest part of Washington, nor is it the wettest area of the United States, but we do get quite a few cloudy days from late fall through early spring. For some the gray skies combine with the short days at the 49th parallel to touch off a bit of seasonal affective disorder. So far I haven’t found the weather to be much of a problem for me, but we did invest in some good rain gear to facilitate getting outside. What would be depressing for me would be to have to stay indoors all the time. I like to go outside and breathe fresh air. Owning a good rain jacket, rain paints, and waterproof shoes seems like a good investment in emotional well being.
Many years ago, when we were part of regular trips to Costa Rica to work with our sister church there, we often traveled at the edge of Costa Rica’s rainy season. We got rained on several times, including one time when we had rented a bus to take the children of the church on a field trip to a volcano. We really got wet trying to see the volcano and we had to eat our lunch on the bus to have a dry place for our meal. It was a fun adventure, but not quite what we had planned.
After that time we got into the habit of saying that we’d let George take care of the weather. George Zeise was a pioneer of the sister church relationship and a faithful mission visitor to Costa Rica. He and his wife Mae Louise were beloved both in our congregation and in our sister congregation in Costa Rica. After George passed away it seemed to us to make sense to let George take care of the weather since it was something over which we had no control.
I have no desire to be able to control the weather. What I do wish is that I will maintain the flexibility and sense of adventure required to deal with whatever weather comes my way. I’m pleased to live where I no longer have to shovel large amounts of deep snow from my driveway, but I do occasionally miss the snowy days of winter. I have often said that I put in my seven winters in North Dakota and so do not require the experience of -30 temperatures to feel like I am fully alive. The weather of the place we now live suits me fine.
I do not, however, believe that the weather is superior to weather in other places. We are fortunate to live in a place that has fewer extremes. Summer days rarely climb into the 90s. Winter days usually stay above the teens. That is comfortable for me. And I’m comfortable letting George take care of the weather.
It worked for our family last weekend. We had the weather we needed for the adventure we had chosen. We could hardly ask for more. Thanks, George!
Having said all of that, I am also aware that there are so many for whom the weather has not worked out. Women in Sub-Saharan Africa who are walking long distances to get water for their families because local wells have run dry are the victims of harsh weather. Families along the Fraser River whose homes still cannot be occupied following floods three years ago who have found out that they cannot rebuild because of an additional flow of debris this year are the victims of harsh weather. Those living on South Pacific Islands whose islands are disappearing due to rising sea levels are victims of harsh weather. There are thousands who have been stranded in airports due to harsh weather. Victims of hurricanes and cyclones and tornadoes don’t make light of weather forecasts.
Our attitude towards the weather is a delicate balance. We try to be prepared and have the right equipment to deal with the weather where we find ourselves. We try to pay attention and anticipate major weather events. And we realize that there is also a factor of luck in the weather we receive. May we never forget to be grateful for everyday blessings such as a climate that supports life and the activities we enjoy.
East Coast Sunset
07/09/24 20:52
Both of our children graduated from high school in Rapid City South Dakota and both have traveled and lived in distant places since that time. Our son completed his MLA degree at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. When he was a student there, I had at least three job answers about what he was doing in North Carolina. One answer was that he’s following in the footsteps of Michael Jordan, who also graduated from UNC Chapel Hill. Another answer was that he was getting a master’s degree in saying, “Shhhh . . .!” The third answer was that after being raised with all of the southern culture of South Dakota, I sent him up north to North Carolina to absorb a bit of northern culture.
During the time that he was in North Carolina he was married. I drove down when he moved there to help transport his household. Then I made another trip by car for the wedding. Along the way, Susan and I did get an opportunity to learn more about Southern Culture. On one of the trips we stopped to get gas in West Virginia. Across from the gas station was a McDonalds restaurant. Going through the drive up was a man in a pickup. In the cab of the truck with him were three dogs. In the back of the truck was his wife and children. It didn’t seem to us at the tie that it was a typical scene for South Dakota.
Another time Susan tried to order a pecan waffle in a Waffle House Restaurant. The waitress seemed to have trouble understanding what she wanted. Finally a big smile came across the face of the waitress who blurted, “Oh honey! You mean a Pee-can waffle!”
Being northerners we have more than a few biases about southerners, so traveling in the south has been good for us to look beyond those biases.
Now our daughter and her family live in South Carolina and each visit we have made since they moved here in 2020 has been a treat of culture as well as family.
Last night we ate dinner at Coconut Joe’s Beach Grill. We sat on a third floor outdoor balcony overlooking the beach on the Isle of Palms. I had fried shrimp with sausage over cheese grits. It is a meal that isn’t commonly offered in restaurants in the places where we have lived, but it definitely was good eating! And it was easy for me to think, “We’re not in Washington right now.”
The Isle of Palms is a barrier island near Charleston that is about seven miles long. The island has been here for at least 25,000 years enduring fierce storms, hurricanes, wind and waves. The original inhabitants were members of the Seewee nation. After discovery by the British the island has had the names of Hunting Island and then Long Island before gaining its current name of Isle of Palms. It was lightly inhabited for many years, but during the 1970s, real estate development boomed and many hotels, condominiums, and other buildings occupied the beach. It is a popular destination for beach combing, kite flying, surfing, swimming, and sunbathing.
The water of the Atlantic is warmer than the Pacific, on average about 15 degrees warmer at each equal latitude. And we are a lot farther south than our home at Birch Bay. We re roughly at the same latitude as San Diego, California. As a result, the water is warm enough for extended swimming and water play and we are visiting with a five year old grandson who definitely was up for extended water play.
Warner water isn’t the only contrast with the beach where we live. Birch Bay is a gravel beach with some sand exposed at low tide. The beach here on the Isle of Palms is sandy and great fun to feel between the toes as we walked barefoot. I don’t go barefoot at the beach back at home.
We occasionally are treated to visits from harbor seals in Birch Bay and we have sighted gray whales and know of those who have seen Orcas in our Bay. Here on the Isle of Palms we saw dolphins swimming just off the public beach where we were playing.
There are all kinds of different ways to say that we aren’t at home during our visit to the Isle.
Yesterday morning was overcast so we didn’t see much of a sunrise despite being on the east coast. Since I’ve been writing in my journal from time to time about our move to the sunset coast, I was hoping to have a picture of the sunrise coast to post with today’s journal entry. However, since I have been posting an occasional sunrise picture from the west coast, the picture with today’s journal entry is a sunset picture from the east coast. There is a long pier jutting out into the ocean near our vacation rental and our rental included the access code to the pier. We’ve walked out the pier a couple of times since we arrived and went there to look at the sunset and I got a few pictures of the sunset over the water.
The sunset was gorgeous from the other side of our rental as well, looking across the island and I realized that folks who have places on the west side of the island probably don’t get the beautiful sound of the waves crashing to shore, but they probably get some gorgeous sunsets over the water.
Sunrise or sunset, there is so much beauty at the ends of the day that I have come to believe that just as there is a beautiful miracle at each human birth, it seems likely that there is beauty to come at the other end of our lives. Learning to notice the beauty of each day is a way to remain sensitive to and appreciative of the beauty that surrounds us every day.
Here in this place or at home in our place, we are incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by the beauty of creation. I’ll keep looking for sunrises and sunsets as this life’s journey continues.
Being grandpa
06/09/24 22:31
A very long time ago before we got married we had a conversation about the future. One topic we talked about was having children. I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I remember saying, “I think I’d like to be a grandfather someday.” I’m not sure how I came up with that notion, but the idea stuck with me. It seems to me now as if I haver almost always wanted to be a grandpa.
Of course back then, my notion of who a grandpa was and what a grandpa did was mostly based in imagination. At least I don’t think that I wanted to be like my grandpa, although he definitely had some rather appealing qualities. What I imagined, rather, is that I would spend my time making toys and games for children. I didn’t consider that when I got older I might have some health concerns or that I might sometimes worry about money and finances.
Despite all of that, I am happy to report that now, with a little more than 13 years under my belt, I really love being a grandpa. I’m glad that the world worked out so that I have grandchildren. On a silly note, once I told our children that I thought that five grandchildren would be a good number. I said, I don’t care how it works out, but that five seems like a good number. And I now am grandpa to five grandchildren.
A deep joy of my life is that retirement has given us the gift of living near four of those grandchildren. Their place is 2.7 miles from our house. I am able to make it to their school programs and other special events.
Our other grandson, however, lives 3,000 miles away in South Carolina. His father is in the Air Force and the family has moved to follow him in his career. While South Carolina is a long way from where we live, at least it is on the same continent. Our grandson was born in Japan. We did get two wonderful trips to Japan out of their time of serving there, but we feel happy that they are back in the United States. Our son in law likely will serve for a few more years before retiring from the Air Force, so it is possible that they will move to another place before his retirement.
So being in South Carolina to visit is a blessing for us. We flew here the day before yesterday and though we didn’t know it would be this way when we planned our trip, we got here just in time for grandparents day at our grandson’s school yesterday morning. I don’t know, but it is likely that we are the grandparents who traveled the farthest to come to grandparents day.
Grandparents day didn’t involves too much for the grandparents of the Kindergarten class. We sat with them for a short service in the chapel and sang songs with the children. Then we went to the kindergarten room with our grandson’s class and saw his classroom. The class sang a song for us and we had a treat with our grandchildren. We got to meet his teacher, who showed us some of his work and told us what we already knew: that he is a delightful boy and a joy to have in class.
Being a grandpa doesn’t require much. Sometimes, like grandparents day, all I have to do is show up and pay attention. There are a few other skills that have helped me as a grandpa.
I know how to use tools and can make most adjustments and repairs to bicycles. Our grandchildren grow quickly and I often am called on to raise seats and adjust handlebars.
I love to read children’s stories and can make a few different voices. I am not afraid of the monster at the end of the book, but I can read it as if I am surprised by the ending. I love Go Dog Go and can read it over and over again without getting bored.
I know how to look into children’s eyes and pay attention to know how much tickling is just right. I know when to quit and I know how to produce a giggle when I am tickled. A lot of children go through a phase when I can tickle them without touching them, a skill that seems to be appreciated in a grandpa.
I can curl my tongue and wink both eyes.
I can swim the length of a swimming pool under water and come up beneath a young swimmer and blow bubbles that tickle their bellies. And Papa is pretty good at launching a youngster into the air to land with a big splash in the pool.
I happen to have a lot of kites and I like teaching kids how to make and fly kites. We are staying at a vacation rental property that is right on the beach on the Isle of Palms for the weekend. It is a perfect place to fly kites and I brought at least one kite that will be happy to find a new home with our Grandson if he enjoys flying it on the beach.
There are a few other things I’m good at. Several days ago I was driving with our oldest grandson when he declared, “I don’t want to get old!” I’ll never be able to remember all of the grandpa jokes. My jokes are more likely to garner a groan than a laugh these days and I’m pretty sure I’ve told all of them and the kids are getting repeats, but they seem to be learning patience with me.
Today my gratitude prayer is one of deep thanksgiving for being a grandfather who is allowed to spend time with his grandchildren. I was pretty young and inexperienced and naive when I said that I thought I would like to be a grandpa some day. But I was right. I do like being a grandpa.
Of course back then, my notion of who a grandpa was and what a grandpa did was mostly based in imagination. At least I don’t think that I wanted to be like my grandpa, although he definitely had some rather appealing qualities. What I imagined, rather, is that I would spend my time making toys and games for children. I didn’t consider that when I got older I might have some health concerns or that I might sometimes worry about money and finances.
Despite all of that, I am happy to report that now, with a little more than 13 years under my belt, I really love being a grandpa. I’m glad that the world worked out so that I have grandchildren. On a silly note, once I told our children that I thought that five grandchildren would be a good number. I said, I don’t care how it works out, but that five seems like a good number. And I now am grandpa to five grandchildren.
A deep joy of my life is that retirement has given us the gift of living near four of those grandchildren. Their place is 2.7 miles from our house. I am able to make it to their school programs and other special events.
Our other grandson, however, lives 3,000 miles away in South Carolina. His father is in the Air Force and the family has moved to follow him in his career. While South Carolina is a long way from where we live, at least it is on the same continent. Our grandson was born in Japan. We did get two wonderful trips to Japan out of their time of serving there, but we feel happy that they are back in the United States. Our son in law likely will serve for a few more years before retiring from the Air Force, so it is possible that they will move to another place before his retirement.
So being in South Carolina to visit is a blessing for us. We flew here the day before yesterday and though we didn’t know it would be this way when we planned our trip, we got here just in time for grandparents day at our grandson’s school yesterday morning. I don’t know, but it is likely that we are the grandparents who traveled the farthest to come to grandparents day.
Grandparents day didn’t involves too much for the grandparents of the Kindergarten class. We sat with them for a short service in the chapel and sang songs with the children. Then we went to the kindergarten room with our grandson’s class and saw his classroom. The class sang a song for us and we had a treat with our grandchildren. We got to meet his teacher, who showed us some of his work and told us what we already knew: that he is a delightful boy and a joy to have in class.
Being a grandpa doesn’t require much. Sometimes, like grandparents day, all I have to do is show up and pay attention. There are a few other skills that have helped me as a grandpa.
I know how to use tools and can make most adjustments and repairs to bicycles. Our grandchildren grow quickly and I often am called on to raise seats and adjust handlebars.
I love to read children’s stories and can make a few different voices. I am not afraid of the monster at the end of the book, but I can read it as if I am surprised by the ending. I love Go Dog Go and can read it over and over again without getting bored.
I know how to look into children’s eyes and pay attention to know how much tickling is just right. I know when to quit and I know how to produce a giggle when I am tickled. A lot of children go through a phase when I can tickle them without touching them, a skill that seems to be appreciated in a grandpa.
I can curl my tongue and wink both eyes.
I can swim the length of a swimming pool under water and come up beneath a young swimmer and blow bubbles that tickle their bellies. And Papa is pretty good at launching a youngster into the air to land with a big splash in the pool.
I happen to have a lot of kites and I like teaching kids how to make and fly kites. We are staying at a vacation rental property that is right on the beach on the Isle of Palms for the weekend. It is a perfect place to fly kites and I brought at least one kite that will be happy to find a new home with our Grandson if he enjoys flying it on the beach.
There are a few other things I’m good at. Several days ago I was driving with our oldest grandson when he declared, “I don’t want to get old!” I’ll never be able to remember all of the grandpa jokes. My jokes are more likely to garner a groan than a laugh these days and I’m pretty sure I’ve told all of them and the kids are getting repeats, but they seem to be learning patience with me.
Today my gratitude prayer is one of deep thanksgiving for being a grandfather who is allowed to spend time with his grandchildren. I was pretty young and inexperienced and naive when I said that I thought I would like to be a grandpa some day. But I was right. I do like being a grandpa.
Smoky skies and a day to remember
06/09/24 00:21
I remember flying with my father to Polson, Montana. My aunt and uncle had a rustic cabin on Flathead Lake and the family gathered there for camp cooking, water play, and connections. Taking the direct result into Polson meant having to come over the mountains and then drop a lot of altitude in a short distance. In a light airplane it was an ear-popping experience. On the way home we flew south instead of heading directly for the mountains. Our little airplane would have had to make a lot of circles to gain the necessary altitude, but by heading down the valley we could climb at a good pace and we wouldn’t have to cross high mountains until much later in our journey. The distance was a bit longer, but the time was the same or even a bit shorter.
I was learning to navigate bye visual flight rules. I had a chart on my lap and I was checking off waypoints, naming different mountains, rivers, and other key geographic features. As we drew closer to where the city of Missoula is, I was unable to see it. All I could see was a low layer of cloud in the valley. Finally, as we drew quite close, I could make out the M on the mountain above the college and identified my waypoint to turn toward the east. As we flew, I discussed the problem of making out features from the air. He explained to me that although generally the atmosphere cools as one flies higher, there are times when a layer of cool air can become trapped beneath a layer of warmer air above. The layer of warm air stays put because of the cooler air above it and it traps the layer of cool air that is below it. In the case of that particular day along with moisture which was condensing in the cooler air below us causing fog, the warm air was trapping the smoke from the paper plant and other industrial facilities in the valley.
I may have heard the term smog before but that was the first time that I remember knowing what it meant: smoke and fog. Later we lived in Chicago and I learned a lot more about smog. And we have traveled and seen various kinds of air pollution.
That condition that I witnessed over Missoula Montana on that summer day long ago seemed to be the dominant condition of the entire Intermountain West yesterday as we flew from Vancouver to Salt Lake City and from there to Atlanta. The route from Vancouver to Salt Lake is familiar to me. It passes not far from Boise, Idaho. I know a lot of the landmarks from flying in the area. But I couldn’t make out the landmarks yesterday.
The west is literally full of smoke. While I can feel sad about the changes from the days when we were able to fly across the west with nearly unlimited visibility the tragedy of the smoke is what is does to the health of so many people. Breathing all that smoke is not good for anyone.
This week a wildfire burned to within four miles of the home where we lived for 25 years in South Dakota. Fortunately the weather turned cooler and rain fell allowing firefighters to make great progress and no homes were lost. Had we still lived in the area we would have received pre-evacuation orders from the Sheriff instructing us to be ready to evacuate on short notice. So we’ve been paying attention to the news from that fire. The gift of weather and well-timed rain is a blessing. There are lots of places in western Canada and the US that didn’t get the rain when it was most needed.
On a completely different subject, today is an historic day in Mount Vernon, Washington. At the end of the regular day, the city’s library will close and will remain closed for most of the rest of the month. When it re opens it will be in a brand-new building. A special open house farewell to the old library building was held on Wednesday with hundreds attending. The new Mount Vernon Library Commons is an incredible project that will benefit the community for many years to come, but for generations of children who grew up enjoying the library there is a bit of nostalgia. Fortunately for the community the old library building will be repurposed to serve the city in a new role as city hall will expand into the building with some much needed office space and services.
We will be back in Washington in time for the ribbon cutting at the new building - a moment that will be a proud time for us as our son is the Director of the Library and the new Mount Vernon Library Commons has been a vision turned into reality for him and other community leaders who worked together to bring this important project to the city without needing to ask for a tax raise. It has been a long journey and telling the story is with more time than a single journal entry, but today’s last day in the old building is a day to remember.
For the staff of the library it must be a bittersweet day. They can’t help but be excited about the new building and the expanded services to the community that will be enabled by its opening. They are excited to have the room to expand the already excellent children’s library and to offer additional youth services in a safe space. But life will be different in the new building. The familiar work spaces will be gone. New routines will have to be established. As they shelve books and prepare for the ribbon cutting in the new building their work will b e different not just during the time when the library is closed for the move, but also when it opens with new services for the community.
Smoky skies and a new library building. The world is changing. And in each change the lives of people are affected. May we never lose sight of the people and the communities that nurture our life together.
I was learning to navigate bye visual flight rules. I had a chart on my lap and I was checking off waypoints, naming different mountains, rivers, and other key geographic features. As we drew closer to where the city of Missoula is, I was unable to see it. All I could see was a low layer of cloud in the valley. Finally, as we drew quite close, I could make out the M on the mountain above the college and identified my waypoint to turn toward the east. As we flew, I discussed the problem of making out features from the air. He explained to me that although generally the atmosphere cools as one flies higher, there are times when a layer of cool air can become trapped beneath a layer of warmer air above. The layer of warm air stays put because of the cooler air above it and it traps the layer of cool air that is below it. In the case of that particular day along with moisture which was condensing in the cooler air below us causing fog, the warm air was trapping the smoke from the paper plant and other industrial facilities in the valley.
I may have heard the term smog before but that was the first time that I remember knowing what it meant: smoke and fog. Later we lived in Chicago and I learned a lot more about smog. And we have traveled and seen various kinds of air pollution.
That condition that I witnessed over Missoula Montana on that summer day long ago seemed to be the dominant condition of the entire Intermountain West yesterday as we flew from Vancouver to Salt Lake City and from there to Atlanta. The route from Vancouver to Salt Lake is familiar to me. It passes not far from Boise, Idaho. I know a lot of the landmarks from flying in the area. But I couldn’t make out the landmarks yesterday.
The west is literally full of smoke. While I can feel sad about the changes from the days when we were able to fly across the west with nearly unlimited visibility the tragedy of the smoke is what is does to the health of so many people. Breathing all that smoke is not good for anyone.
This week a wildfire burned to within four miles of the home where we lived for 25 years in South Dakota. Fortunately the weather turned cooler and rain fell allowing firefighters to make great progress and no homes were lost. Had we still lived in the area we would have received pre-evacuation orders from the Sheriff instructing us to be ready to evacuate on short notice. So we’ve been paying attention to the news from that fire. The gift of weather and well-timed rain is a blessing. There are lots of places in western Canada and the US that didn’t get the rain when it was most needed.
On a completely different subject, today is an historic day in Mount Vernon, Washington. At the end of the regular day, the city’s library will close and will remain closed for most of the rest of the month. When it re opens it will be in a brand-new building. A special open house farewell to the old library building was held on Wednesday with hundreds attending. The new Mount Vernon Library Commons is an incredible project that will benefit the community for many years to come, but for generations of children who grew up enjoying the library there is a bit of nostalgia. Fortunately for the community the old library building will be repurposed to serve the city in a new role as city hall will expand into the building with some much needed office space and services.
We will be back in Washington in time for the ribbon cutting at the new building - a moment that will be a proud time for us as our son is the Director of the Library and the new Mount Vernon Library Commons has been a vision turned into reality for him and other community leaders who worked together to bring this important project to the city without needing to ask for a tax raise. It has been a long journey and telling the story is with more time than a single journal entry, but today’s last day in the old building is a day to remember.
For the staff of the library it must be a bittersweet day. They can’t help but be excited about the new building and the expanded services to the community that will be enabled by its opening. They are excited to have the room to expand the already excellent children’s library and to offer additional youth services in a safe space. But life will be different in the new building. The familiar work spaces will be gone. New routines will have to be established. As they shelve books and prepare for the ribbon cutting in the new building their work will b e different not just during the time when the library is closed for the move, but also when it opens with new services for the community.
Smoky skies and a new library building. The world is changing. And in each change the lives of people are affected. May we never lose sight of the people and the communities that nurture our life together.
International travel
05/09/24 01:46
My first experiences of crossing an international border involved trips to Canada. Growing up in Montana, Canada wasn’t all that far away, but Montana is a big state and we lived in the south and it was more than 300 miles to the border. However, there were reasons to go to Canada. The Calgary Stampede was a big rodeo and one of my sisters was married to a rodeo rider. We occasionally did business across the border. When I was in college, my father’s company purchased a trailer in Canada and we made a quick trip to pick up the new trailer. Crossing the border was no big deal in those days. Often they didn’t even ask to see your ID. They would ask where your home was, whether or not you had firearms or alcohol, and the purpose of your trip. There were rarely lines at the border crossings.
We began our ministry by serving congregations in North Dakota for seven years. Our conference camp was on a lake that spanned the border with Canada. We would take the camp pontoon boat across the lake to purchase snacks at a store. There was no official border crossing involved. Near the camp the International Peace Gardens were a local attraction and we visited them when we were in the area. The gardens were officially available to both countries. The entrance to Canada was on the other side of the park. Upon leaving the park you did pass through the US entry, but if you said you’d only been in the park no further questions were asked.
I made a lot of border crossings without having an enhanced ID or a passport.
Then 911 occurred and things changed dramatically. Now we need a passport to cross the border.The agents serving at the border crossings seem to be a bit more gruff as well. When we say that our home is in a border town they usually soften a bit, but we have learned to be careful in answering their questions to avoid more questions.
If the purpose of our trip is to pick up someone at the airport, we don’t say, “We’re meeting a plane.” That will require more explanation. If we answer, “We’re going to the airport to pick up a family member,” things go a bit more smoothly. We occasionally are asked questions about firearms and alcohol. A lot of US citizens carry firearms wherever they go, but we do not and usually the agents simply take our word for it. Of course they have the authority to search our vehicle, but that hasn’t ever happened to us.
Border crossing is on my mind this morning because we came to Canada last night and are spending a rather short night in a hotel before catching an early shuttle to the airport. Our destination is Columbia, South Carolina. Flying out of Vancouver is a lot more convenient for us than Seattle and for this trip it is less expansive as well. So passports in hand we crossed the border last night and will fly back across the border today, traveling to Salt Lake City and Atlanta on our way to Columbia.
Canada has been the departure point for several International Adventures for us. Our first trip to Europe started with a flight from Calgary to Amsterdam. We flew from Vancouver to London when our daughter lived in England and from Vancouver to Tokyo on one of the trips we made to visit her in Japan. Vancouver International Airport is a somewhat familiar place for us.
Of course an International flight means we have to arrive at the airport earlier than were we flying to a destination in Canada. It all works out pretty smoothly, however. And when it comes to time, we’ll be traveling three time zones east, so we need to begin to adjust our clocks to the new time zone anyway.
Catching a 3:50 am shuttle at the hotel, we know it will be almost 7 am in South Carolina. And tomorrow, we’ll need to be able to get up and get going in South Carolina because it is grandparents’ day at our grandson’s school and being able to participate in that is a special treat for us that doesn’t come every year. I think grandparents’ day is a pretty big deal for a kindergartener. I know it is a big deal for his grandpa.
I think that I get tired a bit easier than was the case when I was younger. I’m less able to get by on short amounts of sleep than once was the case. Fortunately for me, I’m pretty good at taking naps and I don’t have trouble sleeping on airplanes. That is probably the product of being the child of pilots. I’ve been sleeping on airplanes since before I can remember. My plan is to catch a few winks on the various flights and to be tired enough to go right to sleep as soon as I hit the bed tonight. The result may be that my journal entries are published at unusual times of the day for a few days as I adjust to the change in time zones.
Learning to deal with changes in time and disruptions in schedule is part of travel and I love travel more than I love routine even now that I am in my 70s. I feel so lucky to be able to board an airplane and travel across the continent to be with our daughter and her family. Because they have lived in several interesting places on three continents, we have had some wonderful adventures visiting them.
I know that as I grow older, the time will come when I will not be as able to travel or at least travel will be a bigger challenge for me. Maybe I’ll have to accept that others need to come to visit me more than I go to visit them. I’m not ready for that yet, however. Today is an adventure I’ve been anticipating for quite a while and I’m grateful for the adventure. Onward!
We began our ministry by serving congregations in North Dakota for seven years. Our conference camp was on a lake that spanned the border with Canada. We would take the camp pontoon boat across the lake to purchase snacks at a store. There was no official border crossing involved. Near the camp the International Peace Gardens were a local attraction and we visited them when we were in the area. The gardens were officially available to both countries. The entrance to Canada was on the other side of the park. Upon leaving the park you did pass through the US entry, but if you said you’d only been in the park no further questions were asked.
I made a lot of border crossings without having an enhanced ID or a passport.
Then 911 occurred and things changed dramatically. Now we need a passport to cross the border.The agents serving at the border crossings seem to be a bit more gruff as well. When we say that our home is in a border town they usually soften a bit, but we have learned to be careful in answering their questions to avoid more questions.
If the purpose of our trip is to pick up someone at the airport, we don’t say, “We’re meeting a plane.” That will require more explanation. If we answer, “We’re going to the airport to pick up a family member,” things go a bit more smoothly. We occasionally are asked questions about firearms and alcohol. A lot of US citizens carry firearms wherever they go, but we do not and usually the agents simply take our word for it. Of course they have the authority to search our vehicle, but that hasn’t ever happened to us.
Border crossing is on my mind this morning because we came to Canada last night and are spending a rather short night in a hotel before catching an early shuttle to the airport. Our destination is Columbia, South Carolina. Flying out of Vancouver is a lot more convenient for us than Seattle and for this trip it is less expansive as well. So passports in hand we crossed the border last night and will fly back across the border today, traveling to Salt Lake City and Atlanta on our way to Columbia.
Canada has been the departure point for several International Adventures for us. Our first trip to Europe started with a flight from Calgary to Amsterdam. We flew from Vancouver to London when our daughter lived in England and from Vancouver to Tokyo on one of the trips we made to visit her in Japan. Vancouver International Airport is a somewhat familiar place for us.
Of course an International flight means we have to arrive at the airport earlier than were we flying to a destination in Canada. It all works out pretty smoothly, however. And when it comes to time, we’ll be traveling three time zones east, so we need to begin to adjust our clocks to the new time zone anyway.
Catching a 3:50 am shuttle at the hotel, we know it will be almost 7 am in South Carolina. And tomorrow, we’ll need to be able to get up and get going in South Carolina because it is grandparents’ day at our grandson’s school and being able to participate in that is a special treat for us that doesn’t come every year. I think grandparents’ day is a pretty big deal for a kindergartener. I know it is a big deal for his grandpa.
I think that I get tired a bit easier than was the case when I was younger. I’m less able to get by on short amounts of sleep than once was the case. Fortunately for me, I’m pretty good at taking naps and I don’t have trouble sleeping on airplanes. That is probably the product of being the child of pilots. I’ve been sleeping on airplanes since before I can remember. My plan is to catch a few winks on the various flights and to be tired enough to go right to sleep as soon as I hit the bed tonight. The result may be that my journal entries are published at unusual times of the day for a few days as I adjust to the change in time zones.
Learning to deal with changes in time and disruptions in schedule is part of travel and I love travel more than I love routine even now that I am in my 70s. I feel so lucky to be able to board an airplane and travel across the continent to be with our daughter and her family. Because they have lived in several interesting places on three continents, we have had some wonderful adventures visiting them.
I know that as I grow older, the time will come when I will not be as able to travel or at least travel will be a bigger challenge for me. Maybe I’ll have to accept that others need to come to visit me more than I go to visit them. I’m not ready for that yet, however. Today is an adventure I’ve been anticipating for quite a while and I’m grateful for the adventure. Onward!
Invitation to gratitude
04/09/24 01:15
Last evening Susan came to me and reported that she was feeling especially grateful for the kindness that people had show us. She cited three examples. Our day had begun by meeting a new urologist who had added an appointment slot before the beginning of his regular day so that I wouldn’t have to wait to meet with him. Had he not done so, it would have been weeks before I could get an appointment and we might have had to rearrange some very important things in our schedule including our trip to South Carolina tomorrow. Most of the time we have to wait to see doctors, especially specialists. His kindness in adding an extra appointment to a long day made a major difference to us.
After we visited with the doctor we stopped by the pharmacy to get our annual flu shots. The pharmacy technician informed us that they normally don’t start administering injections for another hour, but that they had time to go ahead and give us ours since we were there. It was a kindness that we know we wouldn’t have received at a chain pharmacy.
In the afternoon, the hinge on Susan’s glasses separated from the bow. This threatened to cause a major disruption because we leave very early tomorrow on the first of three flights that will take us to South Carolina where we will visit with our daughter and grandson. Ordering new frames generally takes about a week. However, two people at the optical shop went through all of their spare parts to find a replacement bow that, while not an exact match for the broken one, was close enough to work well and look good on her glasses.
Three examples of kind people going out of their way to help us. As she spoke, I realized that I needed to add another gratitude to the ones she was recounting. I am so grateful for her kindness in recognizing and reporting the kindness of others we had experienced. Frankly, I had not been exactly writing a gratitude journal when she came down the stairs and began talking to me.
I started my day by learning that the strategy of Active Surveillance which I am following with close medical supervision for my prostate cancer means more tests and more time without having a specific action plan. My new urologist has ordered a genetic test on the samples that were taken when I had my biopsy. He also ordered an MRI of my prostate and the surrounding area. If those tests do not reveal any surprises, the plan will be to repeat tests, including biopsy on a regular basis. While I am confident we have chosen the right plan for now, it is frustrating for me. I had hoped that we might have a more direct path to have the cancer cells removed from my body. Although I know medicine doesn’t work that way, I would like to have someone declare that I am cancer free sometime soon.
Then I was disappointed because the pharmacy does not yet have the new Covid booster injection that has been promised, but is slow to be available. I had hoped to have that injection at the same time as the flu shot so that we could travel knowing that our immunizations were all up to date. While we are not at risk, having had regular injections, it is just one more thing that will require follow up.
I was mulling my frustrations with the normal process of aging. It seems like I always have a string of medical appointments on my calendar. I have some minor aches and pains. There is a bit of arthritis in my hand that has been bugging me. My plan to lose weight has hit a plateau and while I haven’t gained back the weight I lost, I can’t seem to lose the final pounds I want to lose. I can get myself into a litany of self pity without much effort, and I was heading in that direction.
But I have the blessing of a partner who has shared more than a half century of marriage and family life with me. And she came to me to express her gratitude and remind me of the kindness of people that graced our day. In doing so she invited me to share that gratitude. Looking back a few hours later, I know that she was so right. Yesterday was a day for which I am grateful. We had a good time doing a bit of math tutoring with our grandson. I have sometimes been frustrated with my attempts to teach him, but yesterday’s session went well. He cooperated and worked hard and clearly understood the concepts of the lesson. Transformations of 2-dimensional shapes is a part of geometry that is fun for me. I was studying those lessons as I was preparing for my private pilot’s test when I was a student and navigation problems require some of the same kind of thinking. The beginning of a new school year is an opportunity to make some fresh starts in learning and we seem to have a strategy for our grandson that promises to be less frustrating than last year.
I am genuinely excited about our trip. We fly from Vancouver to Salt Lake City, from Salt Lake to Atlanta, and from Atlanta to Columbia, South Carolina. Back in 1996, I was part of a planning team for a National Youth Event that was held in Columbia, so the trip from Salt Lake is one that is familiar to me. I make several trips over that same route. And we’ll arrive in time for grandparent’s day at our grandson’s school. We have lots of other fun plans for our visit, including celebrating our daughter’s birthday. This year we’ve been with every member of our immediate family on their birthday except for our son in law who is deployed and was not able to be with family on his birthday. Our daughter and South Carolina grandson was visiting us on his birthday so we had almost our entire family together for that celebration.
I have enough life experience to know that the solution to a pity party is a refocus to a gratitude journal. Sometimes, however, I need to be reminded of the things I know. Fortunately, I have a partner whose perspective continues to make all the difference in the world. For that I am indeed grateful.
After we visited with the doctor we stopped by the pharmacy to get our annual flu shots. The pharmacy technician informed us that they normally don’t start administering injections for another hour, but that they had time to go ahead and give us ours since we were there. It was a kindness that we know we wouldn’t have received at a chain pharmacy.
In the afternoon, the hinge on Susan’s glasses separated from the bow. This threatened to cause a major disruption because we leave very early tomorrow on the first of three flights that will take us to South Carolina where we will visit with our daughter and grandson. Ordering new frames generally takes about a week. However, two people at the optical shop went through all of their spare parts to find a replacement bow that, while not an exact match for the broken one, was close enough to work well and look good on her glasses.
Three examples of kind people going out of their way to help us. As she spoke, I realized that I needed to add another gratitude to the ones she was recounting. I am so grateful for her kindness in recognizing and reporting the kindness of others we had experienced. Frankly, I had not been exactly writing a gratitude journal when she came down the stairs and began talking to me.
I started my day by learning that the strategy of Active Surveillance which I am following with close medical supervision for my prostate cancer means more tests and more time without having a specific action plan. My new urologist has ordered a genetic test on the samples that were taken when I had my biopsy. He also ordered an MRI of my prostate and the surrounding area. If those tests do not reveal any surprises, the plan will be to repeat tests, including biopsy on a regular basis. While I am confident we have chosen the right plan for now, it is frustrating for me. I had hoped that we might have a more direct path to have the cancer cells removed from my body. Although I know medicine doesn’t work that way, I would like to have someone declare that I am cancer free sometime soon.
Then I was disappointed because the pharmacy does not yet have the new Covid booster injection that has been promised, but is slow to be available. I had hoped to have that injection at the same time as the flu shot so that we could travel knowing that our immunizations were all up to date. While we are not at risk, having had regular injections, it is just one more thing that will require follow up.
I was mulling my frustrations with the normal process of aging. It seems like I always have a string of medical appointments on my calendar. I have some minor aches and pains. There is a bit of arthritis in my hand that has been bugging me. My plan to lose weight has hit a plateau and while I haven’t gained back the weight I lost, I can’t seem to lose the final pounds I want to lose. I can get myself into a litany of self pity without much effort, and I was heading in that direction.
But I have the blessing of a partner who has shared more than a half century of marriage and family life with me. And she came to me to express her gratitude and remind me of the kindness of people that graced our day. In doing so she invited me to share that gratitude. Looking back a few hours later, I know that she was so right. Yesterday was a day for which I am grateful. We had a good time doing a bit of math tutoring with our grandson. I have sometimes been frustrated with my attempts to teach him, but yesterday’s session went well. He cooperated and worked hard and clearly understood the concepts of the lesson. Transformations of 2-dimensional shapes is a part of geometry that is fun for me. I was studying those lessons as I was preparing for my private pilot’s test when I was a student and navigation problems require some of the same kind of thinking. The beginning of a new school year is an opportunity to make some fresh starts in learning and we seem to have a strategy for our grandson that promises to be less frustrating than last year.
I am genuinely excited about our trip. We fly from Vancouver to Salt Lake City, from Salt Lake to Atlanta, and from Atlanta to Columbia, South Carolina. Back in 1996, I was part of a planning team for a National Youth Event that was held in Columbia, so the trip from Salt Lake is one that is familiar to me. I make several trips over that same route. And we’ll arrive in time for grandparent’s day at our grandson’s school. We have lots of other fun plans for our visit, including celebrating our daughter’s birthday. This year we’ve been with every member of our immediate family on their birthday except for our son in law who is deployed and was not able to be with family on his birthday. Our daughter and South Carolina grandson was visiting us on his birthday so we had almost our entire family together for that celebration.
I have enough life experience to know that the solution to a pity party is a refocus to a gratitude journal. Sometimes, however, I need to be reminded of the things I know. Fortunately, I have a partner whose perspective continues to make all the difference in the world. For that I am indeed grateful.
Amazing bees
03/09/24 01:58
I didn’t know much about cooking when I was first married. I could boil or fry an egg. I made a concoction of browned hamburger, instant rice, ketchup and chili powder that I called Spanish Rice. I could spread peanut butter and jelly to make a sandwich. That was about it for my collection of recipes. It has taken me a lot of years, but I have learned to cook and have expanded my repertoire of recipes. One technique that I have learned is how to reduce liquids. I reduce meat drippings when making gravy. I reduce sauces when cooking stir fry. Recently I have taken to reducing vinegar. There is a particularly tasty balsamic vinegar that I like to reduce to about the consistency of honey and drizzle on avocado toast or over eggs for breakfast.
A honey bee has a very small brain compared to a human. Everything about a bee is pretty small. But honey bees know how to make reductions. The nectar that bees gather from flowers contains about 70% water. The honey that I harvest from the bee hives on the farm isa bout 17% water. When a worker bee returns from foraging in the flowers, it deposits nectar in an open cell. Although some say that the nectar is vomited, but the comparison with human functions is not accurate. Bees have two stomachs. The one that carries nectar to the hive is not the one that nourished the bee. The cell into which the nectar is deposited is in itself a marvel. The hexagonal shape is structurally strong and provides a place for eggs to be deposited, mature into larvae, which become mature bees as they eat their way out of the cell. Worker bees, which are all female, have eight glands in their abdomen that produce wax. The wax hardens as soon as it is secreted, forming a scale on the exterior of the bee. A single bee will produce up to eight scales every 12 hours. Producing wax is the work of young bees. The wax glands are most productive when the bee is 12 - 18 days old.
When the bee becomes older it moves on to other jobs. Some bees become nurses that care for larvae and remain in the hive. Others become foragers and head out to bring back pollen and nectar to the hive. Forager bees use their proboscis to suck up nectar, a substance produced by flowers to attract pollinators. The forager bee will visit between 50 and 100 flowers on each trip from the hive. When she returns to the hive half of her total weight will be pollen and nectar. That is enough cargo capacity to impress an aeronautical engineer.
For each pound of honey, foragers fly up to 55,000 miles and visit two million flowers. The top speed of a bee is around 15 mph, but most travel slower. A single bee’s contribution over the course of a lifetime is about 1/12 of a teaspoon of honey. After the nectar is deposited in the cells, the bees fan the open cells with their wings, causing water to evaporate. A bee’s wings beat 12,000 beats per minute. When the honey is sufficiently reduced, it is more viscous which protects it from forming mold. Once the honey is thickened, young worker bees seal the cell with a wax cap protecting the honey from moisture and contaminants.
The capped cells are what I take from the hive when I harvest honey. I uncap the cells and allow gravity to do its work and fill jars with unfiltered honey for our family to use. The bees in our colonies produce a lot of excess honey each year. We leave some honey in the hive for the bees to consume over the winter and I pay close attention. If they are running short of honey, I feed them sugar water to keep the colony healthy through the season when they don’t have access to flowers for additional nectar and pollen.
Bees live and die as a colony. A queen might live for several years and can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day during the busy summer season. Egg production slows in the winter. In the early spring, a colony has between 10,000 and 15,000 bees. In the height of the summer season, the colony will have between 50,000 and 80,000 individuals. During the working season and individual bee lives about six weeks. That means that the colony is producing ten or more generations of bees each summer.
As pollinators, which is a contribution to agriculture that far exceeds the value of harvested honey, bees have some unique characteristics. While some pollinating insects, such as moths, navigate almost exclusively by scent, honey bees can navigate by visual clues as well as scent. What is more they can communicate and teach other bees the path to good sources of nectar and pollen. Back at the hive they perform elaborate dances which illustrate the path to the nectar. Those dances are witnessed by other bees that become able to replicate the flight path. This makes honey bees slightly less susceptible to confusion caused by air pollution. Studies have shown that pollinating insects are far less productive when even small amounts of pollutants such as ozone are present.
Pollution, however, has a dramatic effect on the cycles of life of a colony. Bees, like other insects are threatened by pesticides. The use of pesticides can have a dramatic and catastrophic effect on colonies. Weakened by even trace amounts of chemical pesticides bees become vulnerable to mites and disease.
Various air pollutants also affect flower production causing additional stress on colonies. That combined with the ways that pollutants affect the aromas of flowers is a constant threat to the health of all pollinators, bees included.
We keep fewer bees than the farm could support in part because we don’t want to displace other pollinators. The honey bees supplement the work of butterflies, moths, wasps and other types of bees. I have observed as many as four types of bees on a single lavender plant all working at the same time.
In addition the bees are providing a challenge and an education to an old human male. Observing them has a calming effect. They are natural stress reducers. Moving slowly around the bees keeps them from becoming agitated and stinging. Their gift of honey is also an important ingredient in the food I cook. Unlike some other liquids, I don’t need to reduce honey to benefit from its sweetness. The bees do that work for me.
A honey bee has a very small brain compared to a human. Everything about a bee is pretty small. But honey bees know how to make reductions. The nectar that bees gather from flowers contains about 70% water. The honey that I harvest from the bee hives on the farm isa bout 17% water. When a worker bee returns from foraging in the flowers, it deposits nectar in an open cell. Although some say that the nectar is vomited, but the comparison with human functions is not accurate. Bees have two stomachs. The one that carries nectar to the hive is not the one that nourished the bee. The cell into which the nectar is deposited is in itself a marvel. The hexagonal shape is structurally strong and provides a place for eggs to be deposited, mature into larvae, which become mature bees as they eat their way out of the cell. Worker bees, which are all female, have eight glands in their abdomen that produce wax. The wax hardens as soon as it is secreted, forming a scale on the exterior of the bee. A single bee will produce up to eight scales every 12 hours. Producing wax is the work of young bees. The wax glands are most productive when the bee is 12 - 18 days old.
When the bee becomes older it moves on to other jobs. Some bees become nurses that care for larvae and remain in the hive. Others become foragers and head out to bring back pollen and nectar to the hive. Forager bees use their proboscis to suck up nectar, a substance produced by flowers to attract pollinators. The forager bee will visit between 50 and 100 flowers on each trip from the hive. When she returns to the hive half of her total weight will be pollen and nectar. That is enough cargo capacity to impress an aeronautical engineer.
For each pound of honey, foragers fly up to 55,000 miles and visit two million flowers. The top speed of a bee is around 15 mph, but most travel slower. A single bee’s contribution over the course of a lifetime is about 1/12 of a teaspoon of honey. After the nectar is deposited in the cells, the bees fan the open cells with their wings, causing water to evaporate. A bee’s wings beat 12,000 beats per minute. When the honey is sufficiently reduced, it is more viscous which protects it from forming mold. Once the honey is thickened, young worker bees seal the cell with a wax cap protecting the honey from moisture and contaminants.
The capped cells are what I take from the hive when I harvest honey. I uncap the cells and allow gravity to do its work and fill jars with unfiltered honey for our family to use. The bees in our colonies produce a lot of excess honey each year. We leave some honey in the hive for the bees to consume over the winter and I pay close attention. If they are running short of honey, I feed them sugar water to keep the colony healthy through the season when they don’t have access to flowers for additional nectar and pollen.
Bees live and die as a colony. A queen might live for several years and can lay up to 2,000 eggs a day during the busy summer season. Egg production slows in the winter. In the early spring, a colony has between 10,000 and 15,000 bees. In the height of the summer season, the colony will have between 50,000 and 80,000 individuals. During the working season and individual bee lives about six weeks. That means that the colony is producing ten or more generations of bees each summer.
As pollinators, which is a contribution to agriculture that far exceeds the value of harvested honey, bees have some unique characteristics. While some pollinating insects, such as moths, navigate almost exclusively by scent, honey bees can navigate by visual clues as well as scent. What is more they can communicate and teach other bees the path to good sources of nectar and pollen. Back at the hive they perform elaborate dances which illustrate the path to the nectar. Those dances are witnessed by other bees that become able to replicate the flight path. This makes honey bees slightly less susceptible to confusion caused by air pollution. Studies have shown that pollinating insects are far less productive when even small amounts of pollutants such as ozone are present.
Pollution, however, has a dramatic effect on the cycles of life of a colony. Bees, like other insects are threatened by pesticides. The use of pesticides can have a dramatic and catastrophic effect on colonies. Weakened by even trace amounts of chemical pesticides bees become vulnerable to mites and disease.
Various air pollutants also affect flower production causing additional stress on colonies. That combined with the ways that pollutants affect the aromas of flowers is a constant threat to the health of all pollinators, bees included.
We keep fewer bees than the farm could support in part because we don’t want to displace other pollinators. The honey bees supplement the work of butterflies, moths, wasps and other types of bees. I have observed as many as four types of bees on a single lavender plant all working at the same time.
In addition the bees are providing a challenge and an education to an old human male. Observing them has a calming effect. They are natural stress reducers. Moving slowly around the bees keeps them from becoming agitated and stinging. Their gift of honey is also an important ingredient in the food I cook. Unlike some other liquids, I don’t need to reduce honey to benefit from its sweetness. The bees do that work for me.
A tragic day
02/09/24 02:55
Please note. Today’s journal entry discusses suicide. This is a very difficult subject. If you have lost a loved one to suicide, your grief might be triggered by reading about the topic. If this topic isn’t right for you at this time, move on and read something else. If you are experiencing thoughts of suicide, help is available. The National 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline is a network of local crisis centers that provides free and confidential support 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Please call and connect even if you are unsure whether or not you need their services. Visit 988lifeline.org for more information.
I read a lot of news headlines. I have several trusted sources for news and try to be aware of the major stories in the world. There are some stories that stand out to me. I’m always looking for stories about Japan. Both of our children participated in short exchange programs in Japan as high school students. Our family hosted an exchange student from Japan for a year. Our daughter lived in Japan for 5 years and we were able to visit her twice. Each time also provided us with visits with our exchange daughter and her family.
However, I read stories from Japan with a sense of anticipation at this time of the year. Another part of my personal story that informs my reading is that for many years I served as a suicide first responder. I have had the task of informing family members of the deaths of their loved ones from suicide. I have sat with grieving people as they went through the experiences of sudden loss and trauma. I have received training in suicide prevention, facilitated support groups for survivors of suicide, and served on the board of a nonprofit dedicated to providing resources for suicide prevention and for post suicide needs.
On September 1, those two interests come together. Japan is the only G7 country where suicide is the leading cause of death for teenagers. The youth suicide rate in Japan is slightly higher than the rate in the US. Both Japan and the US have experienced slight decreases in the rate of suicide among the general population in recent years, but both have experienced increases in the rate of youth suicide. The rate of teen deaths from suicide is up 35% from 1999 in the US. South Dakota, where we lived for 25 years is second only to Alaska in teen suicide with 33.6 deaths per 100,000 youth.
September 1 has been the date with the highest number of deaths by suicide among youth 15 - 19 in Japan for several years. There are many factors that affect suicide statistics and every situation is unique, but pressures around the return to school are often cited as factors in teen suicides in Japan. The story from yesterday is tragic and heartbreaking. A 17-year old high school student jumped from a building in a crowded shopping district in Yokohama. She fell on a 32-year-old woman who was out with friends. Both died.
There was a sickening sense of déjà vu as I read the story reported by BBC. In 2020, a 17-year old jumped from the roof of a shopping center in Osaka. He struck and killed a 19-year-old woman. He was posthumously charged with manslaughter. The charges were dropped, but had he been convicted his family would have owed compensation to the family of the 19-year-old victim. Both teens, however, were victims. Both families have experienced irreparable loss. The exchange of money will not heal the pain of their grief.
The National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention (Action Alliance) is a public-private partnership working to prevent suicide and to advance a national strategy for suicide prevention. The Action Alliance has declared September to be national suicide prevention month and emphasize connections that can be life saving. Research by Action Alliance partners has indicated that among the factors in rising teen suicide rates include a sense of anxiety about the future and a loss of a sense of safety. Factors include isolation, which was increased during the pandemic. Teens also report worry about climate change, the increase in school shootings, overwhelming student debt, and other issues. While Black, Hispanic or Latino, and Asian/Pacific Islander youth are less likely to die by suicide, Non-Hispanic White teens have higher than average rates of suicide death. Native teens suffer disproportionately from suicide with over triple the overall rate for teen suicide.
All of this research can be helpful and contribute to strategies for suicide prevention, but my experience has led me to believe that statistics are meaningless to those in the depths of suicide grief. For them all of the statistics have come home in a single instant. Even though I have decades of experience with suicide first response, I cannot imagine the grief of the family of the student whose story became international news as she left from a building in Yokohama. They have lost all sense of safety. Their visions of the future have been crushed.
Among the many changes of adolescence are complex developmental processes. Teen brains have an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex when compared with adult brains. Normal brain development means that this area of the brain does not reach maturity until a person’s mid-20s. Among the results of an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex is a lack of impulse control. In the case of teen suicide, the impulse of the moment is fatal. Often simply delaying a teen’s action can prevent a suicide.
All of that is meaningless to the grieving family, however. For them it is too late. For them the impulse was not delayed. I choose to sit with them in their pain. Of course I have never met that family and likely will never do so. However, I can begin each September by reminding myself of the grief of those who have lost loved ones to suicide and rededicating myself to the never ending work of suicide prevention.
As the youth of our communities head back to school, we who are older can reach out with love and care. A conversation, a card, an email - any contact can serve to remind teens that they are not alone. May we learn to begin each autumn with renewed energy for reaching out to the teens of our communities.
I read a lot of news headlines. I have several trusted sources for news and try to be aware of the major stories in the world. There are some stories that stand out to me. I’m always looking for stories about Japan. Both of our children participated in short exchange programs in Japan as high school students. Our family hosted an exchange student from Japan for a year. Our daughter lived in Japan for 5 years and we were able to visit her twice. Each time also provided us with visits with our exchange daughter and her family.
However, I read stories from Japan with a sense of anticipation at this time of the year. Another part of my personal story that informs my reading is that for many years I served as a suicide first responder. I have had the task of informing family members of the deaths of their loved ones from suicide. I have sat with grieving people as they went through the experiences of sudden loss and trauma. I have received training in suicide prevention, facilitated support groups for survivors of suicide, and served on the board of a nonprofit dedicated to providing resources for suicide prevention and for post suicide needs.
On September 1, those two interests come together. Japan is the only G7 country where suicide is the leading cause of death for teenagers. The youth suicide rate in Japan is slightly higher than the rate in the US. Both Japan and the US have experienced slight decreases in the rate of suicide among the general population in recent years, but both have experienced increases in the rate of youth suicide. The rate of teen deaths from suicide is up 35% from 1999 in the US. South Dakota, where we lived for 25 years is second only to Alaska in teen suicide with 33.6 deaths per 100,000 youth.
September 1 has been the date with the highest number of deaths by suicide among youth 15 - 19 in Japan for several years. There are many factors that affect suicide statistics and every situation is unique, but pressures around the return to school are often cited as factors in teen suicides in Japan. The story from yesterday is tragic and heartbreaking. A 17-year old high school student jumped from a building in a crowded shopping district in Yokohama. She fell on a 32-year-old woman who was out with friends. Both died.
There was a sickening sense of déjà vu as I read the story reported by BBC. In 2020, a 17-year old jumped from the roof of a shopping center in Osaka. He struck and killed a 19-year-old woman. He was posthumously charged with manslaughter. The charges were dropped, but had he been convicted his family would have owed compensation to the family of the 19-year-old victim. Both teens, however, were victims. Both families have experienced irreparable loss. The exchange of money will not heal the pain of their grief.
The National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention (Action Alliance) is a public-private partnership working to prevent suicide and to advance a national strategy for suicide prevention. The Action Alliance has declared September to be national suicide prevention month and emphasize connections that can be life saving. Research by Action Alliance partners has indicated that among the factors in rising teen suicide rates include a sense of anxiety about the future and a loss of a sense of safety. Factors include isolation, which was increased during the pandemic. Teens also report worry about climate change, the increase in school shootings, overwhelming student debt, and other issues. While Black, Hispanic or Latino, and Asian/Pacific Islander youth are less likely to die by suicide, Non-Hispanic White teens have higher than average rates of suicide death. Native teens suffer disproportionately from suicide with over triple the overall rate for teen suicide.
All of this research can be helpful and contribute to strategies for suicide prevention, but my experience has led me to believe that statistics are meaningless to those in the depths of suicide grief. For them all of the statistics have come home in a single instant. Even though I have decades of experience with suicide first response, I cannot imagine the grief of the family of the student whose story became international news as she left from a building in Yokohama. They have lost all sense of safety. Their visions of the future have been crushed.
Among the many changes of adolescence are complex developmental processes. Teen brains have an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex when compared with adult brains. Normal brain development means that this area of the brain does not reach maturity until a person’s mid-20s. Among the results of an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex is a lack of impulse control. In the case of teen suicide, the impulse of the moment is fatal. Often simply delaying a teen’s action can prevent a suicide.
All of that is meaningless to the grieving family, however. For them it is too late. For them the impulse was not delayed. I choose to sit with them in their pain. Of course I have never met that family and likely will never do so. However, I can begin each September by reminding myself of the grief of those who have lost loved ones to suicide and rededicating myself to the never ending work of suicide prevention.
As the youth of our communities head back to school, we who are older can reach out with love and care. A conversation, a card, an email - any contact can serve to remind teens that they are not alone. May we learn to begin each autumn with renewed energy for reaching out to the teens of our communities.
Unfinished races
01/09/24 02:19
During the academic year 1975-76, I worked part time as janitor of University Christian Church. I was allowed quite a bit of flexibility in my work schedule which accommodated my academic schedule. One of the ministries of the congregation at that time was a kind of a cafe that was staffed by volunteers and served meals to university students. That meant that five days a week the terrazzo floors in the fellowship hall had to be mopped. After the Friday meal before Sunday’s service, I stripped the wax from the floors, applied a fresh coat of wax, and ran a buffer over the floors so that they were shiny and clean. If there was a funeral lunch, I would wax and polish the floors an additional time that week. The job also involved a great deal of pushing dust mops and occasional mopping in the sanctuary. In addition, I cleaned bathrooms and classrooms, arranged furniture, and performed light maintenance. In place of pews, the sanctuary was outfitted with individual hardwood chairs with rushed seats. In the normal course of use the rushing would become damaged and individual chairs would be put in storage awaiting renewal of the seats. I had learned how to rush chairs at some point, so I took on the task of putting new rush on the chairs. The product we used for rushing was twisted strands of paper which I soaked in water to make pliable before wrapping it around the rails. I did so many chairs for that church that I got the process down to 15 to 20 minutes per chair.
The work was good work, but it was the kind of work that didn’t require intense concentration. It was a good match for that phase of my life because graduate theological education took a lot of careful concentration. I had enormous amounts of reading and writing that was required for my degree work. The janitor work allowed my mind to wander, a luxury that I couldn’t afford for many hours of my days. Sometimes I thought about my academic work as I performed my chores. Other times, I just let my mind wander freely from topic to topic. Occasionally, a verse would come to my mind. Although I am no poet and I was reading almost no poetry outside of my Biblical studies, I wrote poems from time to time. Of course there is a lot of poetry in the Bible. Jesus’ most quoted scriptures were from the prophet Isaiah, whose Biblical books are mostly poetry.
At that time, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) had a new magazine called The Disciple. After more than a century of publishing a magazine called The Christian, that publication was merged with the church’s mission magazine World Call and the new magazine had a large and world wide circulation. One of the poems I wrote about my job as a janitor was submitted to the magazine by the pastor of the congregation and it ended up being my first published work to be translated into multiple languages. The poem was subsequently re-published in a quarterly journal of the American Foundation for the Blind, adding Braille to the list of languages.
The poem is, I believe, the only poem I have written that was ever published. I pursued other forms of writing for the rest of my career and continue to see myself as an essayist rather than a poet. One of my retirement projects, however, has been participation in a poetry group. We meet a couple of times a month. Between our meetings we share a common prompt and prepare a poem to share with the group. During the meetings we also write to prompts offered by members of the group. The prompt for tomorrow’s meeting is, “I’m not here to start this race; I’m here to finish it.”
Fortunately for me, I am unable to participate in this week’s meeting due to a family event. That means that it won’t be noticed if I don’t complete a poem. Sometimes when I miss meetings, I write a poem and email it to group members, but I am totally stumped by this prompt. Frankly, I haven’t experienced my life as something that I finish.
I rushed hundreds of chairs when I was a church janitor, but I never finished the chore. If they are still using rush chairs, someone is renewing the rush regularly. I mopped floors over and over, but they still needed to be mopped. The bathrooms I cleaned still needed someone to clean them after I quit being the janitor. I served as a pastor for 44 yers of my life, but I never finished the work. I shared parenting chores with Susan and we raised two children who are adults with children of their own, but our role as parents is not finished and never will be.
One of the ancient traditions I observed as a pastor involves not pronouncing benedictions during Holy Week. The tradition was to see the services of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil as a continuous service dispensing with the traditional closings and openings of worship. I modified the tradition, treating all of the services between Palm Sunday and Easter as a week of continuing worship without benedictions. I don’t know if the congregation noticed, but it was a good discipline for me. In that sense, I have participated in all kinds of ventures that I have not finished.
Not finishing things fits my theology as well. At the core of my beliefs is a theology of resurrection that declares that death is not the end. Just when it seems that life is over and all is finished, there is more.
Each time I try to write to the prompt, the lyrics of a Jim Manley song come to my mind: “Just when you think it’s over/the music starts once again/and its sweeter than it was before/and its better than it was before.”
Once again I won’t be finishing any races this week. And, it appears, neither will I be finishing a poem.
The work was good work, but it was the kind of work that didn’t require intense concentration. It was a good match for that phase of my life because graduate theological education took a lot of careful concentration. I had enormous amounts of reading and writing that was required for my degree work. The janitor work allowed my mind to wander, a luxury that I couldn’t afford for many hours of my days. Sometimes I thought about my academic work as I performed my chores. Other times, I just let my mind wander freely from topic to topic. Occasionally, a verse would come to my mind. Although I am no poet and I was reading almost no poetry outside of my Biblical studies, I wrote poems from time to time. Of course there is a lot of poetry in the Bible. Jesus’ most quoted scriptures were from the prophet Isaiah, whose Biblical books are mostly poetry.
At that time, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) had a new magazine called The Disciple. After more than a century of publishing a magazine called The Christian, that publication was merged with the church’s mission magazine World Call and the new magazine had a large and world wide circulation. One of the poems I wrote about my job as a janitor was submitted to the magazine by the pastor of the congregation and it ended up being my first published work to be translated into multiple languages. The poem was subsequently re-published in a quarterly journal of the American Foundation for the Blind, adding Braille to the list of languages.
The poem is, I believe, the only poem I have written that was ever published. I pursued other forms of writing for the rest of my career and continue to see myself as an essayist rather than a poet. One of my retirement projects, however, has been participation in a poetry group. We meet a couple of times a month. Between our meetings we share a common prompt and prepare a poem to share with the group. During the meetings we also write to prompts offered by members of the group. The prompt for tomorrow’s meeting is, “I’m not here to start this race; I’m here to finish it.”
Fortunately for me, I am unable to participate in this week’s meeting due to a family event. That means that it won’t be noticed if I don’t complete a poem. Sometimes when I miss meetings, I write a poem and email it to group members, but I am totally stumped by this prompt. Frankly, I haven’t experienced my life as something that I finish.
I rushed hundreds of chairs when I was a church janitor, but I never finished the chore. If they are still using rush chairs, someone is renewing the rush regularly. I mopped floors over and over, but they still needed to be mopped. The bathrooms I cleaned still needed someone to clean them after I quit being the janitor. I served as a pastor for 44 yers of my life, but I never finished the work. I shared parenting chores with Susan and we raised two children who are adults with children of their own, but our role as parents is not finished and never will be.
One of the ancient traditions I observed as a pastor involves not pronouncing benedictions during Holy Week. The tradition was to see the services of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil as a continuous service dispensing with the traditional closings and openings of worship. I modified the tradition, treating all of the services between Palm Sunday and Easter as a week of continuing worship without benedictions. I don’t know if the congregation noticed, but it was a good discipline for me. In that sense, I have participated in all kinds of ventures that I have not finished.
Not finishing things fits my theology as well. At the core of my beliefs is a theology of resurrection that declares that death is not the end. Just when it seems that life is over and all is finished, there is more.
Each time I try to write to the prompt, the lyrics of a Jim Manley song come to my mind: “Just when you think it’s over/the music starts once again/and its sweeter than it was before/and its better than it was before.”
Once again I won’t be finishing any races this week. And, it appears, neither will I be finishing a poem.