Life Lessons from an old Photographer...

You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.          ~Steve Jobs 

Last night, as I often do, I turned to PBS to see what was on. I love PBS dramas, news programs, and documentaries. Last night there was a documentary on someone I'd never heard of... though I certainly should have. The program was called "Eye on the Sixties" and was about a photographer by the name of Rowland Scherman.



If you are like me, and have never heard of him, I am certain you have seen his work. Mr. Scherman was literally everywhere in the 1960's taking photographs. He was a bit of a Forrest Gump kind of guy, showing up uninvited at some of the most important events of this momentous decade. He took photos at the Newport Music Festival in 1962, which was Bob Dylan's debut. Joan Baez and Peter, Paul and Mary were also there. He heard President Kennedy's speech about the Peace Corps and presented himself to the Washington DC office, only a few desks and very few people at the time, and volunteered to be their photographer. That idea took some selling to the new Director of the Peace Corps, Sargeant Shriver (who happened to be President Kennedy's brother-in-law...) but eventually Mr. Scherman was sent out all over the world to photograph Peace Corps workers. His photos were used to promote the program and help make it the success it has been. It also connected him to the Kennedy family. He took photos of JFK, was invited by Eunice Shriver (President Kennedy's sister) to take photos of an event at her home  that was the founding of Special Olympics, and that led to Mrs. Shriver recommending him to her brother Bobby Kennedy to take a family photo  for the RFK family Christmas card.  Later, when Bobby Kennedy ran for President, it helped Mr. Scherman become the campaign photographer.

Mr. Scherman also had a knack for putting himself in the right place at the right time. He was one of the first to arrive at Woodstock. He was one of the first to arrive in Washington, CD for the March On Washington in 1963 (the event where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I have a dream" speech...) The documentary describes him as "a charming guy" and he used that to open doors for himself. It helped him get up close to the stage at a Beatles concert in 1963. It led him to photograph Judy Collins and Joni Mitchell and to be present in the recording studio for the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young debut album (one of my all time favorites...) He finessed himself backstage to get a photo of Bob Dylan at a concert that he sold to Capital Records-- and they put it on Dylan's "Greatest Hits" album cover. That album cover won a Grammy award in 1968.

There will be those who read this that won't know who some of the people are I have mentioned. The 1960's were a long time ago... long enough now that a lot of the details of people and events have faded. I wish I could show some of his photographs here, but alas, they are copyrighted.  I would invite you to look up Mr. Scherman online,  go to his own web site (http://www.rowlandscherman.com/) or to watch the documentary-- his story is fascinating!

What prompted me to think so much about this guy is not that he had met so many famous people or been present at so many historical moments. It was that he made it all happen for himself. He made sure doors opened to him. He made his own destiny, if you will. This guy was gregarious, charming, and genuinely liked people. He had a way of making people comfortable in his presence. And that allowed him to capture some very famous people at unguarded moments, when their inner self could shine.

The photos are amazing, but the story of the man who took them is equally amazing. I learned, I guess, that if someone has talent and believes in him/herself, they must not be afraid to open their own doors. Success requires creative planning sometimes. It requires an awareness of time and place and what should work in that setting. It requires not just a little BS... (or perhaps, a nicer term is "finesse".)

This is my message to my children and grandchildren:  Make your own success. Discover what you love to do and then go make your life happen so you can do that. Mr. Scherman is 76 years old and is still out there shooting photographs, meeting people, recording history in innovative ways. He says in the documentary that he still loves taking photographs. It doesn't feel like work to him-- it is pure joy. That's what I want my children and grandchildren to hear-- if you can do something you love, it won't feel like work. It will bring joy to your life and you will be successful.

Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.          ~Confucious                                 

Battling Extremism

                                

                                   


Extremism is so easy. You've got your position, and that's it. It doesn't take much thought. And when you go far enough to the right you meet the same idiots coming around from the left.
(Interview, Time Magazine, February 20, 2005)
          ~ Clint Eastwood

About once a week I drive the 45 minute route to visit my mom. She and I usually go out to lunch, and then we run her errands-- a few items from the grocery, or the drugstore, or a visit to the eyeglass store, stuff like that. This week she and I had a delightful lunch followed by a fun trip to her local mall to return some slacks she realized were the wrong color. We returned the slacks without difficulty, and had some extra time so we did a little window shopping at the newly installed Christmas displays inside the store. I always enjoy looking at the formal dresses -- and there were some really pretty ones shown. My mother and I giggled at the extreme high-heeled shoes, both of us now past the age when fashion in footwear is more important than comfort. She wondered if there were any purses on sale, so off we headed to the handbag department. I love this area-- the smell of leather and the smooth, handsome bags (all at prices now out of my retirement income reach...) are fun to look at. We were greeted as we entered the department by a very nice younger woman who was dressed very conservatively and spoke with a heavy accent I couldn't identify. She showed my mother the purses that were for sale, and then stopped to chat with me while Mom shopped. "Is this lovely lady your mother?" she asked. When I told her yes, she said, "Oh enjoy her company! I wish so much I could spend time with my mother, but she is 8000 miles away..." That comment seemed to demand a response, so I asked her, "Where is your mother?" and I was told "Iran..." I asked her if that was where she was from, and she said yes somewhat timidly. I wondered if she expected me to react negatively, given the friction now between our two countries. I only commented that "Wow... that is indeed a long way away to be from your mother!"

I thought about that saleswoman later. I don't know much about Iran, but I do know it has been ruled by Muslim extremists, and that women there tend to follow the extremist teachings of their faith. That is, they must cover their heads in public, are not allowed in public without their husband or father, are not allowed to be as educated as males. The woman I encountered spoke perfect English, did not have her head covered, and was working outside the home without a husband or father in attendance. I wondered how she got here, and whether the freedom she was experiencing from the extreme tenets of her faith were worth the separation from a much-beloved mother.

I was reminded of a patient I had cared for in an OB department long ago. She was surrounded by her mother and sisters, as she labored to delivery a baby. Her husband was there but was not participating in the birth of his child much-- just checking in to see how things were progressing now and then. The patient and the attentive women of her family spoke in hushed terms about the man, and about how the new baby would "bring him around". I learned over time that the marriage was breaking apart and that he had been seeing other women, and had been verbally and emotionally abusive to his wife. The family were all fundamentalist Christians-- the women dressed in skirts only (no pants allowed...), forbid the cutting of a woman's hair (which resulted in some elaborate hairdos!) and did not work outside the home. This woman was greatly troubled by her husband's behavior, and was reaching out to her family, her pastor, and even to me, for advice on how to fix it. Her family and her pastor all told her to pray harder, be a more submissive wife, bow to her husband's will in all things. I told her that there were options available to her besides submission and prayer, and if she wanted to hear about them I'd get the social worker to come in to discuss. As a young woman myself at the time, I couldn't imagine anyone sticking around in such a setting to raise a baby, and was heart broken when the patient did not wish to speak with the social worker and took her new baby home, with plans to be even more submissive, and probably even more miserable, than ever. 

Often, any discussion of religion meanders into the realm of politics too. It would seem that politics can have a similar effect on women-- influencing their personal, work day and social/political lives in so many ways. A hundred years ago women wanted to vote, and that was seen as extremist by some. Today, equal pay for equal work is seen by some as just as extreme. The ability to be just as educated, to choose a profession based on ability and desire alone, to own property, to live and work independently-- all are positions that at some point were seen as extreme-- or maybe still are. 

I do not wish to discuss religion or politics here... they are very private matters that each individual must ponder on their own, and seek out the company of like-minded people to share with. But I will say that extremism does not exist only in foreign countries-- it is here too. How a non-extremist deals with this can be delicate-- particularly in a country that has as one of it's tenets a strong belief in the separation of church and state. Where is the line between "fundamentalism" and "extremism", where does religion stop and cultism begin? And why, oh why do so many religions and political viewpoints focus on forcing women to be submissive or second rate citizens? 

I don't have any answers-- but I have a few guidelines I follow:
     1.  If your religion or politics require women to behave differently than men, beware. Are you being told you must not work outside the home? Or that equal pay for equal work is "bad for jobs"? Must you dress in a particular fashion?
     2.  If your religion or politics seems overly interested in your private life-- such as whether and how you access birth control, beware.
     3.  If your religion or politics does not encourage you to THINK and ASK QUESTIONS about important issues, if you are told to just accept the teachings of your faith or your political leaders, BEWARE!

Perhaps that last one is the answer after all... Women must be allowed to investigate, to think and ask questions, to seek out answers, to form their own opinions. Any religion or political system that encourages that is worth considering. Don't be afraid of new knowledge-- seek it out and embrace it. (Let's face it-- if you are reading this online, you already have at your disposal the ability to access almost all of the knowledge human beings have collected-- without going outside the door of your home!) Don't follow the old "Don't confuse me with facts!" attitudes that seem to pervade our culture-- it is what leads to extremists controlling us. Question everything. Keep your mind open to the opinions of others, and try to really listen to them. 

Our country's politics seems gridlocked with opposing sides both refusing to consider the opinions and ideas of the other side. Extremism appears just around the corner. It seems that perhaps women hold the key-- let us enter the debate, let us investigate, consider, discuss. Let us be fully human, and perhaps then we can begin to solve issues and bring people together.
                    

The world's oldest performance art!

               

Use what you have, use what the world gives you. Use the first day of fall: bright flame before winter's deadness; harvest; orange, gold, amber; cool nights and the smell of fire. Our tree-lined streets are set ablaze, our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world's oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter.  

          ~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way

Every season has its merits. Winter brings quiet, a tendancy to stay home and hibernate. Rest. Snow, while often difficult to deal with, is beautiful. Playful sometimes! Spring brings warmer weather, flowers, and some color and beauty back to us.  It can mean the work of beginning a garden. Summer means long days, hot weather, and activity. But for me, it is the autumn I love best. For a few short weeks Nature puts on a show of color that is breathtakingly beautiful. Cooler weather makes us feel frisky again-- just walking when it is brisk and beautiful can make me happy.

Autumn does have it's own celebrations too... fall festivals, the foods we eat, cider to drink. The smells...  of cinnamon or a fire burning. I love it all!

This fall we have taken several short trips in the car. It has taken us out into the countryside of Indiana and Ohio, where fall also means lots of hard work harvesting the corn and beans. Yesterday we saw up close the labor that goes into harvesting a field of soybeans. The dust, the noise, the farmers who were working the machinery. It reminded me that besides all the beauty of fall foliage comes a lot of hard work. And while autumn is fleeting, I imagine winter can't come soon enough for some of these extremely hard working people.

My hope is that everyone enjoys the season-- whether it is by taking drives out into the countryside, working the fields or just taking a walk on a brisk morning. Get out there and be a part of that "last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter!"

Stop the World- I want to get on!

I interviewed my dad on video in his final weeks. When I asked about his work and finding meaning through helping others, he responded, "I don't think you can be focused on, 'Oh gee, I want to make a difference.' It has to be spontaneous. If it's not...there's some kind of egotistical thing going on. That's a red flag. You hope you impact people on the deepest level you are capable of at the time. Sometimes you hit it, sometimes you don't. You're trying.” 

― Lisa Shannon, A Thousand Sisters: My Journey into the Worst Place on Earth to Be a Woman

I have not written a blog in quite awhile... This has been an extraordinarily busy time for us! It hasn't been just a busy time-- it has been a time of heightened emotions, and when I am in that kind of state it is hard to sort things out enough to present them here in a way that makes any sense to someone not living in my little world... That is the peril of retirement, I fear. My world has shrunk quite a bit, and little things can get blown out of proportion... there isn't the outside world to provide a counterbalance to what's going on internally.

Here are some things that have happened recently...

My grand daughter Addison has been staying with us overnight more often, as she is in a school system that has switched to a new schedule where the summers are greatly shortened, but there are two week breaks throughout the year. The first one, Fall Break, is this week and next. Since both her parents work, she needs all day day-care. And the day care provider they use is on vacation these two weeks as well. So, Grandma and Grandpa are watching her-- not the whole time, but a good portion of it. Additionally, her daddy, who works a lot of overtime, asked if we could take her for a couple weekends so he could take some much needed R&R. Of course we said yes. Having Addie here is a joy, but she keeps us on our toes all the time. I must get up early, have easy meals planned, and I try to have some activities planned each day to keep her busy. While we have a lot of fun, I find myself very, very tired at the end of her time with us.

Two young people I know have been diagnosed with life threatening blood cancers. Both of them are 23 years old... the unfairness of this is pretty overwhelming. The stress and grief it has caused their parents is profound. So, when one of the parents, a very good friend of mine, asked if we'd do a charity walk for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, I had to say yes. Especially since my father died from leukemia... Lanny joined me. The event was the Light Up the Night 2 mile walk in downtown Indianapolis. We joined a huge crowd-- maybe 5000 people-- to walk after dark through downtown Indy, carrying balloons that had lights inside them. It was an impressive sight, fun, but also quite serious. And our team raised almost $3000 for blood cancer research. I wore a photo of my dad on my shirt, and so spent some time talking about him... and that always makes me happy and grief-stricken at the same time. After over 8 years I still can't believe he's gone and I miss him.

Coincidentally, my daughter-in-law was walking in the Susan G. Komen 3 day/60 mile walk for breast cancer that same weekend in Washington, DC. I followed her progress too and am humbled by all those miles walked to raise money for breast cancer research.

My mother, who continues her fight with breast cancer, has given up driving. At age 89, she is losing both her eyesight and her hearing, and decided pretty much on her own (with some gentle nudging from her daughters) to let others do her driving. I continue to spend at least one day a week with her, having lunch together, running errands with her, and enjoying her company. We chatter like school girls. It is a bright spot in my week-- she has boundless wisdom and kindness, and I hope I can be more like her.

We have other friends and family members with concerns-- unemployment and other financial woes, health issues, struggles related to relationships... Sometimes I find myself overwhelmed with how painful life can be for people. It reminds me of my own painful past, and also of my incredible good fortune in finding Lanny and building a new life with him. It isn't that easy, and sometimes life just sucks... and I so want to help everyone!!

Lanny, who has been at loose ends as the summer yard work has wound down, found an old hot rod cheap down in southern Indiana and bought it. No engine, just an old junker to those of us who don't know about hot rods. We drove down one beautiful fall day to pick it up and carry it home on a rented trailer. It now resides in the garage... and just this week he found an engine to put in it. This time he and his brother drove to get it, again in southern Indiana. And now he has all winter to tinker in his workshop, fixing up the engine and getting it running. Actually, it is going to be a very long term project, which is a great thing. He has been a happy tinkerer since he brought it home. But that leaves me to find my own entertainment... which of course I do in knitting. Many, many projects to get completed by Christmas!

And then, finally, there was the unbelievable sideshow that our government provided just recently, with the standoff on the budget, "Obamacare", and the debt ceiling. Watching this whole thing unfold on TV was difficult to watch... I kept feeling like this couldn't really be happeneing, not in my country. I am still distressed, even though it is over (for now anyway...). I have no way to organize my thoughts on it-- they have been all over the place. At one point I had almost decided perhaps I needed to run for public office-- surely someone with my common sense and pragmatism would get elected and everyone would listen to me?  Ha!!

As I sit and write now, all this has brought me to a new place. As someone who has been retired for almost 3 years (yes! can you believe it??), I am feeling the nudge to get out there and do something outside my own little world, to reconnect with people "out there" a little more. I am not an idealist, and I don't need to be the head of some big charity. But with all that is going on, even in my own little world, I need to find some balance by interacting with people in the outside world. I need to get my perspective on things again-- to see that any pain in my life is nothing in comparison to what others live with-- and to also see that while pain is in plentiful supply there are also moments of joy and goodness going on out there as well. And I find an ever-increasing need to make things better, to help other people. To serve again. The interesting thing is that Lanny has felt this too. He admitted he needed something more-- that while he loved tinkering and spending time with grandkids and other family, he needed to get out and do something else... so we have been talking about what that something else is.

How does someone move from sedentary retirement to a more active one that involves the outside world and other people? At this point I have no idea... stay tuned!

My neighbor's wall?

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
          ~Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America

Your own safety is at stake when your neighbor's wall is ablaze.
          ~Horace



It has been quite awhile since I have written a blog. This has been a busy summer's end and beginning of autumn. Our trip abroad, car shows, household projects, reconnecting with family and friends, and a quick trip to see the grandsons in Maryland have kept me occupied. And, with Christmas on the horizon (Lanny reported our local Menard's hardware store has their Christmas "Enchanted Village" display up, lit and available for sale!) I have begun the rush of knitting gifts.

But despite the busy-ness, I have been ruminating about something that has me more and more unsettled. Recent events here in the US and in the Indianapolis area have added to my discontent. I find I need to write out my thoughts in hopes of clarifying them for myself and perhaps generating some discussions with readers.

When we were in Switzerland, one of our guides and I had a conversation about guns here in the US and how it is so different in Switzerland. This young woman is Swiss, and described how in Switzerland everyone has a gun. National service in the Swiss military is a requirement for every young man, and optional for every young woman. While in the military, each person is issued a gun. It is theirs to keep. Yup, the government lets each person keep the gun they are issued while in the military. They are expected to keep it in good working order. Here's the catch-- nobody gets ammunition. It is illegal to sell ammunition in the country, or even to possess it in your home. Ammunition is stored in armories around the country. If you are a hunter, you can get it when you  apply for your hunting license, just for that hunting season. If you are in the police, your ammunition is kept at the police station. If you enjoy target shooting, you can obtain it when you go to the shooting range, just enough for your session there. Once you are out of the military, it is an expectation that you will serve in the reserves until you are retirement age. Every so often (I am thinking she said every 3 or 4 years, but I can't remember...) you go to brush up on your military skills (like the reserves do here only less often but for a longer period of time), and shooting guns is included in this. What this means is that in the event the country is attacked, they have an armed, prepared militia that can be called up immediately. The Swiss do not send troops to other countries (the Vatican is the only exception, where the Swiss Guard is famous for their service). They only send diplomats, and only participate in world politics on the diplomatic level. Switzerland is the site of the first League of Nations, and there is a UN location in Geneva. They are well known as peace makers, but are prepared to defend their country if it comes under attack. They have, in the words of our Constitution, a "well regulated militia".

I must admit that I like this idea. It has served the Swiss well-- this country is, by pretty much any measure you can use, the wealthiest country in the world. And almost zero violent crime. They have industrious citizens who do not shoot one another. 

Here in the US, and in Indiana particularly, the differences were glaringly clear this past week. We had an Indianapolis police officer gunned down when he responded to a domestic violence call. There was a convenience store clerk shot and killed during a robbery. Up in Chicago, the gun violence in the past week includes the driveby shooting of a 3 year old. And then there was the mass shooting at the Naval Yard in Washington, DC. And all the other mass shootings that have occurred in the last few years... and will occur again.

That shooting prompted media attention back to the gun control issue. I have listened to these accounts and thought about them a lot. I will admit to being a pacifist by nature-- I was during the Viet Nam war, and have continued to be during the Middle East wars. I am not a gun enthusiast-- not a hunter, or a target shooter. And I would not keep a weapon for self protection because I know myself well enough to know I would never be able to shoot it confidently enough to be safe.

I am also an American who believes in the Constitution, and in the rule of law. Our constitution protects the right of the people to keep arms.  And that is where I struggle-- how do we do both-- protect our people from what my 3 year old grandson calls "mean baddies"-- yet uphold our Constitution? The Swiss have found a way, but the longer I think about it, the more I realize that we have gone way past any ability to institute a Swiss system in this country. It can't work because our mentality here is so different. Listening to both sides of the gun control debate has made me realize how ardently some people believe in their gun ownership. For these people, any attempt to limit guns is an infringement on their Second Amendment right. And the more I talk to people who own and use guns, the more I realize that they are careful with the weapons, have learned how to care for and use them, and are not "mean baddies" at all. To coin a phrase, some of my best friends have guns. 

The issue is not black and white-- it can't be solved by either complete removal of guns from our society (the bumper sticker is right-- if you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have them...) or by unregulated guns for everyone. There has to be some kind of regulation of gun ownership. I know there are regulations currently, but evidence would suggest they aren't adequate to keep mentally unstable and/or violent people from owning and using them. I don't know what needs to be added or changed, and I am trying not to be naive in thinking regulations can police all irrational human behavior. But we have to begin. We have to stop shouting at one another, and sit down and listen. 

If we can't come together on this one, I fear our country will continue the shooting spree, and no one will be safe. The enemy is not outside our borders, it is our own intransigence. 

My Bestest Buddy

 

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.

          ~Albert Schweitzer

In so many ways, my life has been blessed by wonderful people. It seems that at every crossroad, I have encountered someone to help me. My life, like everyone's, has had a some ups and downs. I come from people who do not share their grief well, so reaching out for help has always been difficult. I have been incredibly fortunate to have a life-long friend who excels at reaching out, at knowing exactly when I need help. And she has always been there for me. Today is her birthday, and I want to celebrate her and our friendship on her special day.

Patty and I met our sophomore year in high school. We had both moved that year-- she started the school year as a new kid, I moved and started half way through the year. I tend to be shy, so reaching out to make new friends was a little hard on me. She was there with her engaging smile and friendship-- I think we bonded pretty quickly. It helped that she and I belonged to the same church and were active in the youth group there, and that our parents became friends. Her dad and my dad became great buddies, working on church projects together. Indeed, my father bought our lake cottage from Patty's dad, who built a new place next door. From that point on, the two men were fishing buddies.

Patty and I were in each other's weddings, we threw showers for each other, we celebrated the births of our children together. We each had two boys-- 4 little boys in the space of about 4 years. You would think we were identical twins... but we are not. Often we joke that we are the other's alter ego-- we are completely different in personality and outlook. We disagree on politics, religion, clothing styles, life styles, you name it. Patty is outgoing, sometimes a little flamboyant. I am reserved and perhaps a little dull. She is politically conservative, I am a "bleeding heart liberal". She is a morning person, I am definitely not. She hates most of the foods I love, and I don't enjoy foods she does. Well, except for chocolate...

But here's the thing-- time after time, when my life has seemed like it was too painful, she was there to lift my spirits, offer advice, and show me the way. She is the one who convinced me to try online dating (and that's how I met my husband!), she is the one who dragged me into the water to snorkel (and I discovered I could do it, loved it, felt like I could do anything after that...) and who has encouraged me to stretch my abilities knitting. My life has been vastly enriched because she was there to help me stretch, learn and grow.

One thing we do have in common-- a love of knitting!

Here is my friend modeling one of her sweaters (a very complicated pattern, by the way)
at the Stitches Midwest Convention

I wouldn't model, but that didn't stop her-- she modeled not one, but TWO of her projects! 

So... here's a Happy Birthday to my Bestest Buddy! Thank you for all you have done to enrich my life beyond measure!!

The Swiss Cheese Lady

Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else.          ~James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937)

 On our recent trip to Switzerland, Lanny and I were able to visit a small cheese factory high in the Alps. There, a young woman, her partner and a hired man all labored every day to milk a herd of 90 cows and make cheese from that milk. In Switzerland, cows are kept in barns in the local villages during the winter, but once the snow melts they are taken high into the Alps to graze in the alpine meadows. The sweet grasses of these meadows gives the cheeses the wonderful flavors we enjoyed so much during our visit.

This is the train station-- 

On the day of our visit, we took a train up into the mountains. When we got off the train, I couldn't believe my eyes-- we were in the mountains with spectacular views in every direction. The cheese factory was located down a little road, almost too small for a car. We hiked down this road, and discovered the mountain views got better with every turn.

Lanny on the road to the cheese factory

At the factory we were introduced to the young woman, who explained that the cows were grazing "over the hill" so we couldn't see them, but she and her partner had milked them all that morning, and would again that evening. 90 cows, twice a day, every day. Well, she admitted somewhat sheepishly, about half the cows were now pregnant and not giving milk, so the work load was dramatically reduced... 45 cows, twice a day, every day. The milk was then hauled to the small building we were standing in front of, where it was poured into a large vat and heated. How hot the milk was made determined the hardness of the cheese they were making (higher heat resulted in firmer cheese). Once it reached the correct temperature there were enzymes and rennet added. This caused the cheese to form curds, which were laboriously scooped out into large cheesecloth bags and placed in molds. The moisture was then squeezed out of the mold for a short period of time, and then the cheese was taken to the aging building where it was soaked in salt water to form the rind and then placed up on the aging shelf.

We watched this young woman and her assistant as they scooped the curds out of the vat of hot milk, carried the heavy, wet load to a large table and pressed the curds into the mold, then placed the molds into a further pressing where moisture was removed. It was very hot inside the factory-- well over 80 degrees. The assistant worked shirtless but was wearing large rubber galoshes. The woman had a large rubber apron on. They both were covered in sweat as they scooped and pressed.

We were taken into the little building where the cheese was aged, and saw many large wheels of cheese with a date stamped on each. We were told that the aging process also effects the firmness of the cheese-- the longer the cheese is aged, the firmer the cheese. The woman cut two kinds of cheese into small servings and we were invited to try it. It was delicious!

The woman told us she lived on the mountain with her boyfriend during the summer. They had two children, but due to the constant long work hours, the children remained down in the village with her parents. Her day began with the milking, then the hauling of the milk, then the cheese making. That was followed by a second milking and the process was repeated. It sounded like a very, very hard life. She admitted that they worked very hard, and commented that for all their hard work, they were not rich. We all commented on how care-worn she looked and how tired she must be. Back breaking physical work for long hours seemed like it must be a very hard life... We all pitied her.

But then I looked around me. The views-- those stunningly beautiful mountains. They were everywhere. As hard as she was working, this woman was living life on her own terms and in a place that defied description it was so beautiful. When the summer was over, she would go back down the mountain with the cows and resume her village life which was not nearly as much physical work. She had supportive parents and a partner who was helping her. Her life was pretty simple, really. I no longer pitied her-- I admired her. She was a very lucky young woman!

Can you imagine waking up every morning to a view like this?

Or this? And I'll bet the stars at night were incredible too!

Tired Tourists...

Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.          ~Jack Kerouac

Lanny and I recently returned from another European trip! This time we went to Switzerland-- we wanted to see the Alps.

We were gone for two weeks, living out of our suitcases. We tasted the food of this wonderful country, we shopped and learned about the country's government, education system, transportation system, and so much more. We spent 2 weeks with a group of Americans we'd never met, getting to know them much better than we expected. We got to know some our guides and instructors, all of whom were enthusiastic Swiss people, who loved to show off their beautiful country.

We were up sometimes before the sun to get on the next train. We sat in more trains and buses than I can possibly recount here. We walked more cobblestone paths and saw more "old town" cities, learned a lot of Swiss history. We saw medieval castles and toured the latest Swiss engineering feat-- boring a hole through the Alps 35 miles long to carry trains and a highway with cars. We watched them make cheese and try to sell watches priced at over $40,000 in the shop window... We saw glaciers and mountains and palm trees (yes! palm trees grow in Switzerland!!). We heard cowbells and clock towers striking the hour (at 3 am... and 4 am... and... well, you get the idea...)

We tried our best to see and do everything we could, and when we arrived home, we were exhausted. We slept for 12 hours the first night, and then 9 or 10 the next. Our brains are still a little fuzzy from all the travel and time change and jet lag...

I have not been able to concentrate on much, so I have tried to focus on downloading photographs from the camera to the computer. I managed to take over 1100 photos so there are lots to sort through. I promise not to try to share them all with you, but for now, I thought I'd show a few of my favorites. Just a few...

Here we are at the Matterhorn... amazing!

Oh my, did I enjoy shopping in the chocolate shops!!

Lake Briens as seen from above Interlacken

The old bridge in Lucerne dates from the 1400's. A portion of it burned in late 1990's and has been rebuilt.

A Swiss chalet

Small Swiss villages all have church steeples you can see for miles... 

This is our train, heading into the mountains... all trains were electric and very efficient!

We are tired tourists, but one fond memory is our last evening in Zurich, when we spent a little time at a sidewalk cafe sipping the local beer and toasting our journey. And as tired as we were, we talked about where we'd like to go next...

Kindergarten -- already??

All I really need to know... I learned in kindergarten.          ~Robert Fulghum

It is almost impossible for me to believe, but my oldest grandchild Addie is starting kindergarten this week. She is excited to ride the school bus, has visited the school and seen the classroom and met her teacher. Addie is bright, inquisitive and polite, so she should do very well in a classroom setting. As an only child, she will have to learn to share -- both things like books and toys and also the attention of her teacher. 

Heading off to school is an enormous life change for a child, and a huge milestone in their development. As her grandmother, I can remember both going off to school myself way back when, and also sending her daddy off to school for the first time. In both cases, life was never the same after that... so I know life is about to change for Addie as well.

School opens up a whole new world to children. Addie will begin to read this year (which is something kindergarteners did not learn when I was one!) so the world of books and literature will open up even more to her. She will learn science and math at the most basic levels, and will begin to learn art and music a little more formally as well. And then there is the social learning-- the part that scares Grandma the most. Addie is sweet and mostly innocent, and enjoys playing with other children when she can. Once she is in school she will feel the desire to "fit in" so she can have lots more friends. Sometimes she will be left out and will learn how that feels. And sometimes she will be tempted to leave out a child who doesn't "fit". Grandma hopes that she will always remember to be kind-- to treat the other children with compassion. And that she will never feel the broken heart that comes when you feel left out...

Addie and her Great Grandmother Dee Doe

Addie is lucky-- she has parents and grandparents who love her and think she is IT. We will all be supportive of her as she learns. I hope she will always feel loved by us, supported by us, and listen when we tell her how wonderful she is, and that she can do and become pretty much anything she sets her mind to doing. That is what school is ultimately about-- learning and growing to become a contributing citizen of the world. My wish is that she learns skills and attitudes of self-confidence and self-reliance, that she develops compassion for others as well. Addison, my darling beloved grand daughter-- you have so much to offer the world and it needs you to give your best. Grandma will always be here to support your efforts and encourage you. Go out into this world and make it a better place! And while you are doing it, be sure to enjoy it and have some fun. I love you, Addie!!

Robert Fulghum wrote a wonderful little book about all this. Here is a quote from it:

“These are the things I learned (in Kindergarten):

1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don't hit people.
4. Put thngs back where you found them.
5. CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS.
6. Don't take things that aren't yours.
7. Say you're SORRY when you HURT somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life - learn some and drink some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Stryrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamster and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first workd you learned - the biggest word of all - LOOK.” 
― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Delicious Ambiguity

For all of nature's wonder and beauty, it is also hostile and unpredictable. 

          ~Liam Neeson

I have written before about my rose garden. I get my love of roses from my father, who always had them in each place he lived. I remember being awakened early on a summer Saturday morning by my father spraying insecticide on his roses, which were in a little garden area right under my bedroom window-- and my bed was under that window too on the other side. Later, in the year or so he lived in Indiana, he planted roses in a little garden at the cottage he and my mother lived in at a retirement village. He used to pick the best blooms and give them to my mother (or once in awhile to me!) and he always clipped the thorns off them before he brought them in the house. Roses to him were gifts from God that he could grow and give to others. It was a way to share his love.

Anyway, the house Lanny and I live in has the perfect place to grow them, so over time I have planted about 20 bushes. Some are tea roses that give single, magnificent blooms. Some are "floribunda" that bloom in clusters of fragrant color. Some are "knock out" roses, bred to be hardy and bloom all season long. I have had some problems growing roses... first, the dreaded Japanese Beetle invaded, and thousands of the black irridescent bugs munched on my roses. The blooms seem to attract them, and I would find a shrub covered in blooms which were completely covered in these awful creatures. So, Lanny and I got to work-- he spread an insecticide specific to this bug all over the yard and I got some spray which I doused the plants in. I would go out every morning and remove any bloom that I found a beetle on and spray the little -------'s with the spray. Our war lasted all summer and I never had a bloom that was fit to bring in the house after the attacks started.

When I retired, I decided to try my hand at vegetable gardening. I had Lanny build me a 6 inch high wood frame and grew 2 tomato plants and 2 pepper plants. They yielded delicious produce that we enjoyed a great deal, so last year Lanny built two more frames. I had tomatoes in one, peppers in the other, and a cucumber, a squash and a canteloup plant in the third. They were growing well when it quit raining. It didn't rain a drop here from the end of May to early September, so I had to water everything virtually every morning. Then our well started showing signs of stress and I had to quite watering-- my plants were on their own. We had a pretty good harvest of peppers, a few good tomatoes, and as many cucumbers as we could eat. We loved them... the squash and the canteloup didn't fare well though.

This year, with all that experience under my belt, I started the planting season optimistically. The roses burst into bloom in early June, just as I had hoped. I planted the raised vegetable beds just as I had last year, this year only planting cucumbers in the third bed. Lanny and I spent a great deal of time spreading mulch around the yard and weeding the beds I had had to leave to the weeds last summer during the heat and draught. I focused on one flower bed, which had been started two seasons ago with the idea of making a "prairie garden" using plants that are native to the midwest. We moved some plants from the front yard to the back, mulched and weeded ourselves into exhaustion.  And it rained! Our plants were well-watered. It has not been too hot a summer... The plants grew, flowers bloomed, bugs stayed away -- all was well!

One of my favorite floribundas-- covered in peachy fragrant blooms this June...

Theoretically, and honestly realistically, I should have the best flowers and vegetables ever. But, something has gone awry, and I don't know what. Despite lots of rain, some nice sunny days, a few hot ones too, and despite feeding them and tending them, my garden is disappointing at best. The roses have not bloomed much at all since early June. The vegetables are looking yellow and have very little fruit on them-- out of 6 peppers, I've harvested one small pepper and there are no more out there growing. We've had 5 cucumbers, and there is one little one growing but that's it. The tomatoes are a little better but not the crop I expected. Last year we were enjoying cucumbers and tomatoes every evening for dinner... not so this year despite planting more plants and having much better growing condiions.

The rose garden -- see any roses? Most of the foliage has fallen off too. Despite feeding and pruning and tending just like I have every year...  ??

I sincerely doubt we'll get many cucumbers from this vine...

The raised vegetable beds - lots of sun and rain - and not much growth or fruit...

The only thing that has grown are the prairie flowers. And the ones that grew the best are the coneflowers. These are tall, purple daisy-like flowers that attract butterflies and bees and the birds love the seeds when the bloom is done. The birds eat the seeds, and then of course digest and poop them out, so the plants spread naturally that way. I don't have to cultivate them at all-- they love hot, dry or wet, lots of sun. The daisies and day lilies and all the other flowers out there are doing so well the garden looks like it is bursting at the seams... and while I put most of the plants in the ground, I really haven't paid much attention to them.

Here I am in my "Praire Garden" - this one has grown and produced gorgeous flowers! But what is the difference???

So go figure... I am trying to learn something from all of this and so far I'm not getting much... why do plants that have seemingly ideal growing conditions not do well and others explode with blooms? What is it I am missing in the roses and the vegetables that needs to be done to make them the beautiful garden I dream of?  Perhaps this winter I can convince Lanny to take that Master Gardener course with me and we can figure it out. Or perhaps there is no answer-- it just is what it is -- "delicious ambiguity"? Dear Reader, if you have any helpful hints in all this, please let me know-- I intend to have a gorgeous garden next year!

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.Delicious Ambiguity.           ~ Gilda Radner