There's family, and then there's family. In the past three weeks I've been surrounded by people, who in some way or another, I consider my kin. First it was coming home to my Granny's funeral and falling back into the comfortable place I always get when I'm around all my cousins, aunts, uncles and, of course, my parents and brother. I was lucky enough to grow up really knowing my family, especially my cousins. It seems that no matter how old we get or how much our lives change, we fall into this eternal dynamic each time we gather together. There's a lot that has happened among us, and there are some that have done some things that has caused some rifts in our tight circle. Yet somehow we still manage to return to our tight-knit clan. What I noticed over the weekend of Granny's funeral was that when I see myself and my cousins all together, I can simultaneously feel the presence of our child and adult selves. We still communicate in a certain way that is timeless, and being the oldest granddaughter, I can see all my cousins as they were when they were just little. It's the next best thing to having a big passel of brothers and sisters, and I'm glad that every time one of us brings a stranger into the fold (new girlfriend, husband, etc.), that person is immediately struck by the closeness of our clan.
The other family I've been so aware of is my mountain family. These are people who know and understand me in a way that my blood family, even my own brother, cannot comprehend. I've got grandparents - Lee & Opal, Charlie & Joyce - a Faerie Godmother who is a sister, mother and best friend all wrapped up in one - and several foster parents, including Judy Branch's own Bill & Billy Joe. Since I've returned home I've been really feeling the presence of these family members, and these feelings only intensified during the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School.
Knowing that I will soon be leaveing this place to embark on a new chapter in my life has put me in quite an emotional state. It's as if I'm a rock out in the ocean, a great waves keep crashing over me. Sometimes it is pure excitement at the possibilities of a new life someplace else. Other times it's a cold soaking of grief and homesickness of leaving all these folks I've come to call family. And then there's waves of panic in which I feel as if I'm drowning and if I don't get out soon - NOW- I will suffocate.
There are certain friends that I give me hope and comfort as I prepare to jump into the abyss. Many of them are friends I've just recently come to know, friends who I met feeling as if I'd known them my whole life. This year's Cowan School was especially fulfilling, because while surrounded by my mountain family, I met several new friends from off who, in my soul, I've known forever, and in my heart I know I'll be friends with for a very long time.
I am now on the Olympic Penninsula with some KY folks, sharing a house with some SW Virginia folks and hanging out with folks from Louisiana and all over the west coast and other parts of the country. Being near the ocean and surrounded by wonderful fiddle music is just what I've needed to bring myself out of a sleepless seven weeks.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Searching
I have felt a bit paralyzed since returning home from Poland. The only times that I get to feeling comfortable are when I'm sleeping (when I can sleep) or working in the garden. I was home for just a few days last week when I took off and drove down to Tennessee to spend the night and my parents' house. I'm glad that I followed my flight instinct, because on Friday I met up with my dad for lunch, and we ended up sitting and talking for about three hours. With us both returning from far off places to meet at granny's funeral, I think that none of it really sunk in until a few days after the fact. We could finally talk about losing granny and finally talk about our foreign adventures. There was a lot to talk about, and I suppose there still is.
One thing that I kept feeling when I was in Poland and Ukraine was this strange sense of understanding when my local hosts would hint at these undercurrents of resentment and/or other indescribable emotions toward neighboring nations (Russia, Poland and German for the Ukrainians and Russia, Germany and Ukraine for the Poles). As a Southerner, I could relate on a certain level to these feelings some of my new friends would allude to. But there was no way I could really communicate this to my fellow traveller, who wasn't from the South. I was both surprised and relieved when talking to my mom about my trip, that she actually brought up the mutual understanding that Southerners could have with the Polish people. I told her how one of the most interesting things for me was when I got to spend some time hanging out with a young Polish woman my own age, and how she talked about the process she had gone through with her feelings toward German people. First hating them for all the recent history, then falling in love with a German boy in college and making some really good German friends. Then being treated like a piece of "Polish trash" by a German man her dad's age that she met while traveling in Ireland and feeling those resentful emotions rekindled. Mom made the comment that as Southerners it was easy to relate to being automatically treated a certain way by people when we travel. Reconstruction wasn't as recent nor as horrible as what happened to Poland, but those feelings really do continue, and it is a difficult thing to describe to people who have never felt that. I have an uncounscious tally stored away of particularly nasty encounters in which mere strangers have treated me like I was stupid or backwards or racist or all of the above, simply because they heard my accent or learned that I was from the South. You don't forget those moments, and it makes you automatically weary and/or suspicious of folks you meet when you travel. For her it was Germans and Russians. For me it is Northerners and Californians. We both have friends from those places, but there's this unspeakable divide. I hope I got this down in a manner that does not offend my non-Southern friends. It's just something that is there and very difficult to describe, but if you're a Southerner or Polish, you may just know what I'm talking about.
Enough banter. Sunday evening, I managed to weed a good portion of the garden and plant basil and peppers next to the tomatos, squash and butter beans in with the corn and plant a good three rows (well, 9 rows if we're talking actual plants) of Cajun Jewel okra. I hope to clear the rest of the weeds out and plant a few other okra varieties and some more basil later this week.
Today was another day that I could not make myself go into work, instead choosing to catch up on emails and other projects from home. I think that I have it set so that I can do almost all my summer work away from the office. This will make easier the inevitable transition (my insides keep screaming "Must move SOOOOON!").
One thing that I kept feeling when I was in Poland and Ukraine was this strange sense of understanding when my local hosts would hint at these undercurrents of resentment and/or other indescribable emotions toward neighboring nations (Russia, Poland and German for the Ukrainians and Russia, Germany and Ukraine for the Poles). As a Southerner, I could relate on a certain level to these feelings some of my new friends would allude to. But there was no way I could really communicate this to my fellow traveller, who wasn't from the South. I was both surprised and relieved when talking to my mom about my trip, that she actually brought up the mutual understanding that Southerners could have with the Polish people. I told her how one of the most interesting things for me was when I got to spend some time hanging out with a young Polish woman my own age, and how she talked about the process she had gone through with her feelings toward German people. First hating them for all the recent history, then falling in love with a German boy in college and making some really good German friends. Then being treated like a piece of "Polish trash" by a German man her dad's age that she met while traveling in Ireland and feeling those resentful emotions rekindled. Mom made the comment that as Southerners it was easy to relate to being automatically treated a certain way by people when we travel. Reconstruction wasn't as recent nor as horrible as what happened to Poland, but those feelings really do continue, and it is a difficult thing to describe to people who have never felt that. I have an uncounscious tally stored away of particularly nasty encounters in which mere strangers have treated me like I was stupid or backwards or racist or all of the above, simply because they heard my accent or learned that I was from the South. You don't forget those moments, and it makes you automatically weary and/or suspicious of folks you meet when you travel. For her it was Germans and Russians. For me it is Northerners and Californians. We both have friends from those places, but there's this unspeakable divide. I hope I got this down in a manner that does not offend my non-Southern friends. It's just something that is there and very difficult to describe, but if you're a Southerner or Polish, you may just know what I'm talking about.
Enough banter. Sunday evening, I managed to weed a good portion of the garden and plant basil and peppers next to the tomatos, squash and butter beans in with the corn and plant a good three rows (well, 9 rows if we're talking actual plants) of Cajun Jewel okra. I hope to clear the rest of the weeds out and plant a few other okra varieties and some more basil later this week.
Today was another day that I could not make myself go into work, instead choosing to catch up on emails and other projects from home. I think that I have it set so that I can do almost all my summer work away from the office. This will make easier the inevitable transition (my insides keep screaming "Must move SOOOOON!").
Thursday, June 14, 2007
You Can't Go Home Again
When you leave home, even if for a brief spell, it never is quite the same when you return.
I came home in time to drop off my suitcases, pack another and head to my Granny's funeral.
When I finally made it back to Judy Branch a few days later, it was to an altered place. The most obvious is that the forest around my house is being logged. For what it's worth, it is part of the forest management, meaning that it's selective logging using sustainable practices. Still, it is loud and there are people around my house when usually there are only dogs, cows and wild beasts. It's unsettling, especially since the only thing I have really craved since coming home and burying my granny is to have some time of perfect solitude at home.
I am not sure this will be possible.
I feel unsettled, and I think that I am supposed to do something about it. Soon.
There are some things that bring you home, even when your own homeplace is in a state of upheaval. I found deep comfort when I ventured over to Family Folk Week at Hindman last night to visit with my friends and join in the square dance and the late night jam session at the wood shed. It's nice to run into music buddies I only see once or twice a year and find that they already know where I've been and what I've been up to. It feels like a family, and I enjoy being a member and watching how everyone interacts. Some of these folks I see nearly every week, while others I may only see once a year. And how wonderful it is to see old friends with such long histories reunited and playing music late into the night! If only life could be like this all the time.
I came home in time to drop off my suitcases, pack another and head to my Granny's funeral.
When I finally made it back to Judy Branch a few days later, it was to an altered place. The most obvious is that the forest around my house is being logged. For what it's worth, it is part of the forest management, meaning that it's selective logging using sustainable practices. Still, it is loud and there are people around my house when usually there are only dogs, cows and wild beasts. It's unsettling, especially since the only thing I have really craved since coming home and burying my granny is to have some time of perfect solitude at home.
I am not sure this will be possible.
I feel unsettled, and I think that I am supposed to do something about it. Soon.
There are some things that bring you home, even when your own homeplace is in a state of upheaval. I found deep comfort when I ventured over to Family Folk Week at Hindman last night to visit with my friends and join in the square dance and the late night jam session at the wood shed. It's nice to run into music buddies I only see once or twice a year and find that they already know where I've been and what I've been up to. It feels like a family, and I enjoy being a member and watching how everyone interacts. Some of these folks I see nearly every week, while others I may only see once a year. And how wonderful it is to see old friends with such long histories reunited and playing music late into the night! If only life could be like this all the time.
Monday, June 04, 2007
It's all up in the air...
Tomorrow will be the last day of this adventure across Ukraine and Poland. I am always amazed how condensed time and space become when you live as a traveller (note: this is very different from life as a tourist, but I do not need to tell YOU this, do I?!). It feels like my brief life in Ukraine was years ago rather than a month.
I have met so many interesting people and lived a life in which every day was a surprise.
For the most part, these times have been incredibly good [bardzo dobry!!!]. But there have been times when I have yearned for my own free will and some time to myself.
There is a trade off from being a traveller who is a guest in people's homes and towns or cities as opposed to being a traveller who is a passerby in these places and, for the most part meets only other such travellers. Good points to both, and I hope that my future will allow me to merge my usual style of travelling (the latter) with the kind I have been involved with this past month.
I have a big desire now to learn a language like Polish, as fluently as possible. And I am sad to say that now my desires to once again live in a foreign land may be much more easily achieved.
A few days ago, my best friend in the whole world, my granma, passed away. As long as she was alive, I could not bring myself to move too far away, because she is so very special to me. It does not yet seem real to me, and I know that it will be especially difficult when I return to my life after this journey, because my instinct will be to go visit or to call her first thing. Before sleep, before anything else, the top of my list would be to tell Granny all about my adventures while they were still fresh on my mind.
I have no idea who I will talk with now that she is gone. It is terrifying for me to imagine the loneliness that I will feel in her absence. No matter where I may make my home, I will always crave hours of late night conversation with my granny.
I have met so many interesting people and lived a life in which every day was a surprise.
For the most part, these times have been incredibly good [bardzo dobry!!!]. But there have been times when I have yearned for my own free will and some time to myself.
There is a trade off from being a traveller who is a guest in people's homes and towns or cities as opposed to being a traveller who is a passerby in these places and, for the most part meets only other such travellers. Good points to both, and I hope that my future will allow me to merge my usual style of travelling (the latter) with the kind I have been involved with this past month.
I have a big desire now to learn a language like Polish, as fluently as possible. And I am sad to say that now my desires to once again live in a foreign land may be much more easily achieved.
A few days ago, my best friend in the whole world, my granma, passed away. As long as she was alive, I could not bring myself to move too far away, because she is so very special to me. It does not yet seem real to me, and I know that it will be especially difficult when I return to my life after this journey, because my instinct will be to go visit or to call her first thing. Before sleep, before anything else, the top of my list would be to tell Granny all about my adventures while they were still fresh on my mind.
I have no idea who I will talk with now that she is gone. It is terrifying for me to imagine the loneliness that I will feel in her absence. No matter where I may make my home, I will always crave hours of late night conversation with my granny.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Maybe I will move to Poland or Ukraine?
There are certain characteristics of the communities in both Poland and Ukraine of which I feel a very strong kinship. I like how they actually embrace the idea of laissez faire in everyday life. There's an intense difference of cultures when you cross the border from Poland to either Denmark or Germany. Much more order and tidyness in those countries. I like the relaxed atmosphere of my host nations.
My friend Deborah and I have had many opportunities to share music with our hosts in many different places. Just now we are at the home of a Vetrinarian in Swinoujsin, the most northwestern point of Poland. Before we arrived here, I injured my back even more (I did something bad to in in November that has caused chronic sciatica) when I fell down some steps on the ferry from Copenhagen. I got to experinece the Polish medical system and am now on some amazing medication that actually stops the muscle spasms from both this current injury as well as the back pain I have been struggling with since November. I will bring the bottles back to KY and try to get my doctor to figure out what actually works for my problem. How funny that the Polish chiropractor immediately found somthing to cure my pain, while I have spent weeks, moths, etc. in KY trying to get just a little bit of relief!
One of my favorite aspects of this trip is that we are making real connections with people, visiting and often living in their homes. I hope to re-visit both Poland and Ukraine again and again, and I most certainly hope that my new friends will come to visit me in the states.
I don't know what my life will be like when I return home, but I know that this will be one of the most important experiences I have ever had. Americans, in general, know so little about the world outside of their own small spaces. There are so many extraordinary people in the world, so many common grounds to discover. I know that for the entirety of my life that I will be a rambler, and this soothes my soul.
Life is short, and we must make the most of it. Love the people you meet and cherish every breath that you breathe.
Today Deborah and I rode bicylces to the German border and back and explored the city of Swinoujsin. Tomorrw we depart for a new home, Wolstyn, perhaps?
My friend Deborah and I have had many opportunities to share music with our hosts in many different places. Just now we are at the home of a Vetrinarian in Swinoujsin, the most northwestern point of Poland. Before we arrived here, I injured my back even more (I did something bad to in in November that has caused chronic sciatica) when I fell down some steps on the ferry from Copenhagen. I got to experinece the Polish medical system and am now on some amazing medication that actually stops the muscle spasms from both this current injury as well as the back pain I have been struggling with since November. I will bring the bottles back to KY and try to get my doctor to figure out what actually works for my problem. How funny that the Polish chiropractor immediately found somthing to cure my pain, while I have spent weeks, moths, etc. in KY trying to get just a little bit of relief!
One of my favorite aspects of this trip is that we are making real connections with people, visiting and often living in their homes. I hope to re-visit both Poland and Ukraine again and again, and I most certainly hope that my new friends will come to visit me in the states.
I don't know what my life will be like when I return home, but I know that this will be one of the most important experiences I have ever had. Americans, in general, know so little about the world outside of their own small spaces. There are so many extraordinary people in the world, so many common grounds to discover. I know that for the entirety of my life that I will be a rambler, and this soothes my soul.
Life is short, and we must make the most of it. Love the people you meet and cherish every breath that you breathe.
Today Deborah and I rode bicylces to the German border and back and explored the city of Swinoujsin. Tomorrw we depart for a new home, Wolstyn, perhaps?
Monday, May 21, 2007
A Wanderer's Update from Szczezin
Internet has not been part of my reality for the past couple of weeks, and I am doubtful that it will be in the coming weeks. I will try my best to provide a concise update of my adventures.
It all began with a three hour drive from Judy Branch to Berea where I met Deb and Frank, and Frank drove us another two hours or so to the Cincinnatti airport where Deb and I met up with our fellow travellers. Then a flight to Chicago. A delay followed by a hellacious change of planes which involved leaving the secured area, re-checking in, taking a train to the other terminal where our plan had already been boarding for half and hour. Packed flight on AirLOT (Polish airlines). I watched Night in the Museum with Polish voiceover, very entertaining. Arrived in Warsaw after 9.5 hours and waited several hours for our delayed plane to Lviv, Ukraine (Lvov in Polski). The real adventure began when we landed at Lviv. The airport was one small palace looking building with high arches. Beautiful. We went into the main room of the building and were locked in to go through a detailed customs accounting. When we finally made it through into the open entrance, our host families were there to greet us.
I fell in love with my first host family, and I could live with them forever: Voldymyr, Nadia and daughter Iryna. All musicians and all genuinely amazing people. Voldymyr is a professional musican (rock n roll) as well as a conductor; Nadia teaches at a music school and Iryna is a university student who also sings and plays bandola (a traditional Ukrainian instrument). They live in a small village just outside of Lviv called Navaria and their house was a work in progress, with Voldymyr working on it as he had time. Very nice and a place that both Deb and I could easily, immediately call home. My fondest memories are of the many cognac or vodka toasts (along with chocolate eating)before bed, watching the end of the Eurovision competition (Ukraine placed second. Serbia was the winner), Voldymyr's sister's birthday party (where Deb, Iryna and I were the only English speakers) and a wonderful bbq at their friends' home in a neighboring village in which we played a mix of old time Appalachian and Ukrainian music (banjo, guitar, accordian, spoons) and I taught Nadia and her friends how to flat foot on the back of a work trailer! I learned from them that in Ukraine you must always toast three times: 1. For family/children 2. For friends 3. For love. And then, you find countless more things about life to toast, even when you are so sleepy you can barely keep your eyes open.
Next we were in Uzhohord, south of Lviv and across the Carpathian Mountains in the Transcarpathian region bordering Hungary and Slovakia. I thought that this small city was much more of the type of city I would enjoy living in, with the Uzh river cutting through the center of town and many open spaces, small winding cobblestone streets, theatres, opera houses, etc. I stayed on my own with a "New Ukrainian" family (meaning the new wealthy, which is increasing, but a minority) just outside of town in a very, very nice house. I LOVED the back garden area, but I was a bit scared that I would mess something up in the house, it was so nice and so spotlessly clean. Yuroslav and Oxana (my host family) had a fantastic 3-yr old son, Sasha (nick name for Alexander) who immediately became my best friend, b/c no one in the house really spoke English. Also, I gave him a wooden, magnetic train set first thing, and it became his favorite toy (at least for the time I was there!).
The next leg of the journey involved an overnight train journey with some of our Rotary hosts from Lviv to Szczecin. This was quite a trip. Six people to a car, with six bunks. We had a blast testing our Polish out on our car-mate, a young man from Szczecin who we befriended when we noticed him laughing at some of the things we said in English. We gained an audience from our train mates with our game-show style game with Polish and English language, and then, of course, the Ukrainians got in the mix and it became a total riot with everyone crying from laughing so hard. Our party was cut short when a German woman arrived as a passenger on our car and immediately demanded that it was time to go to bed, which meant we all had to fold dopwn the beds and could no longer sit together. But our new friends from the next car over began a little music concert and everyone gathered in the hallway and sang songs and Deb and I danced a little. Even the conductor got involved a little. He was going to tell us to be quiet, but when the majority of train folks (most were in the hall) said they didn't mind the music, he seemed to dance a little too on his way back up the car.
Our first few days in Szczecin involved some Rotary activities, but we have also had time to really get to see the city, which is beautiful. Szczecin is about as far away from Ukrain as one could possibly get, on the NW corner boarding Germany and not too far from Denmark. The Rotary hosts in the club that are hosting us are much younger than those we met in Ukraine, and all seem to speak English. The city is really sort of cosmopolitan, esp. in the architecture and layout of the streets. The streets are more similar to Paris, with large round-abouts. It's a shipbuilding, port city and the greenest city in Poland with many large forested parks. Very livable place.
Tomorrow evening we will head northwest to the coast and take an overnight ferry to Copenhagen where we'll have a day and then return the next night by ferry. Then we'll spend the weekend on the coast and then head south of Szczecin to some other places. For the most part, we do not know where we are going or what we shall do until it happens.
Do widzenia, for now!
It all began with a three hour drive from Judy Branch to Berea where I met Deb and Frank, and Frank drove us another two hours or so to the Cincinnatti airport where Deb and I met up with our fellow travellers. Then a flight to Chicago. A delay followed by a hellacious change of planes which involved leaving the secured area, re-checking in, taking a train to the other terminal where our plan had already been boarding for half and hour. Packed flight on AirLOT (Polish airlines). I watched Night in the Museum with Polish voiceover, very entertaining. Arrived in Warsaw after 9.5 hours and waited several hours for our delayed plane to Lviv, Ukraine (Lvov in Polski). The real adventure began when we landed at Lviv. The airport was one small palace looking building with high arches. Beautiful. We went into the main room of the building and were locked in to go through a detailed customs accounting. When we finally made it through into the open entrance, our host families were there to greet us.
I fell in love with my first host family, and I could live with them forever: Voldymyr, Nadia and daughter Iryna. All musicians and all genuinely amazing people. Voldymyr is a professional musican (rock n roll) as well as a conductor; Nadia teaches at a music school and Iryna is a university student who also sings and plays bandola (a traditional Ukrainian instrument). They live in a small village just outside of Lviv called Navaria and their house was a work in progress, with Voldymyr working on it as he had time. Very nice and a place that both Deb and I could easily, immediately call home. My fondest memories are of the many cognac or vodka toasts (along with chocolate eating)before bed, watching the end of the Eurovision competition (Ukraine placed second. Serbia was the winner), Voldymyr's sister's birthday party (where Deb, Iryna and I were the only English speakers) and a wonderful bbq at their friends' home in a neighboring village in which we played a mix of old time Appalachian and Ukrainian music (banjo, guitar, accordian, spoons) and I taught Nadia and her friends how to flat foot on the back of a work trailer! I learned from them that in Ukraine you must always toast three times: 1. For family/children 2. For friends 3. For love. And then, you find countless more things about life to toast, even when you are so sleepy you can barely keep your eyes open.
Next we were in Uzhohord, south of Lviv and across the Carpathian Mountains in the Transcarpathian region bordering Hungary and Slovakia. I thought that this small city was much more of the type of city I would enjoy living in, with the Uzh river cutting through the center of town and many open spaces, small winding cobblestone streets, theatres, opera houses, etc. I stayed on my own with a "New Ukrainian" family (meaning the new wealthy, which is increasing, but a minority) just outside of town in a very, very nice house. I LOVED the back garden area, but I was a bit scared that I would mess something up in the house, it was so nice and so spotlessly clean. Yuroslav and Oxana (my host family) had a fantastic 3-yr old son, Sasha (nick name for Alexander) who immediately became my best friend, b/c no one in the house really spoke English. Also, I gave him a wooden, magnetic train set first thing, and it became his favorite toy (at least for the time I was there!).
The next leg of the journey involved an overnight train journey with some of our Rotary hosts from Lviv to Szczecin. This was quite a trip. Six people to a car, with six bunks. We had a blast testing our Polish out on our car-mate, a young man from Szczecin who we befriended when we noticed him laughing at some of the things we said in English. We gained an audience from our train mates with our game-show style game with Polish and English language, and then, of course, the Ukrainians got in the mix and it became a total riot with everyone crying from laughing so hard. Our party was cut short when a German woman arrived as a passenger on our car and immediately demanded that it was time to go to bed, which meant we all had to fold dopwn the beds and could no longer sit together. But our new friends from the next car over began a little music concert and everyone gathered in the hallway and sang songs and Deb and I danced a little. Even the conductor got involved a little. He was going to tell us to be quiet, but when the majority of train folks (most were in the hall) said they didn't mind the music, he seemed to dance a little too on his way back up the car.
Our first few days in Szczecin involved some Rotary activities, but we have also had time to really get to see the city, which is beautiful. Szczecin is about as far away from Ukrain as one could possibly get, on the NW corner boarding Germany and not too far from Denmark. The Rotary hosts in the club that are hosting us are much younger than those we met in Ukraine, and all seem to speak English. The city is really sort of cosmopolitan, esp. in the architecture and layout of the streets. The streets are more similar to Paris, with large round-abouts. It's a shipbuilding, port city and the greenest city in Poland with many large forested parks. Very livable place.
Tomorrow evening we will head northwest to the coast and take an overnight ferry to Copenhagen where we'll have a day and then return the next night by ferry. Then we'll spend the weekend on the coast and then head south of Szczecin to some other places. For the most part, we do not know where we are going or what we shall do until it happens.
Do widzenia, for now!
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Wisdom of Pebbles
A long time ago, a Tom Robbins book profoundly altered my relationship with the world and my perception of consciousness. _Skinny Legs and All_ extended my empathetic capacity to inanimate objects, and although the novel's protagonists were ordinary houshold objects-can of beans, silver spoon and a sock- I have ever since felt the life and consciousness of rocks and soil. I think that feeling was already there, especially for rocks, and Robbins validated my sense that there is a consciousness far beyond what humans have speculated.
The first time I ever went hiking with my family, age 4, I began within the first few feet, picking up rocks and putting them in my pack. One would guess the lesson I should have learned that day. I don't take as many rocks with me as I would like to, but to this day I can hardly go on a walk without picking up a stone. I have always felt connected to boulders, stones, rocks and pebbles. I love the feel of sun-warmed stone under my bare feet. Growing up in the Smokies and living my early adult life in the Blue Ridge, I would spend hours hiking mountain streams. Barefoot and with no constraint of time nor any concern for what dishelveled, muddy condition the river would release me, I would explore the feeling of the stream, the way the different kinds of rocks felt under my feet. I usually walked up stream, and I would boulder up onto the larger rock formations and stretch my body over them, feeling the grooves, finding the perfect fit. When I would find that stone that was a perfect fit, I'd lay there and stare into the water, enjoying how my perception of the life of the stream would gradually awaken, allowing me to see the life in fluid motion.
Faerie Godmother wrote in a comment that a stone told her "Don't let yourself be strip-mined. Don't let your grief pollute! Be a clear spring where the water is pure." Now that is the kind of wisdom that comes from a rock. Life is too precious to spend your time in grief and worry. Surely, if Ghandi had allowed the grief he often must of felt to overtake his life... well, just imagine!
A quick weekend jolt to my hometown fed my soul with a deep appreciation for the relationship I have with my parents, which is now emerging into such a wonderful friendship. I also got in a few hours of catching up with one of my long-time close friends, who first inspired me to visit Poland when he was living there a few years ago. Between my upcoming travels and all sorts of insane and mundane life things, we certainly didn't run out of things to talk about. And then I came back home to three animal companions who, after I've left them for a day, want to spend every second by my side. The rest of my time has been spent enjoying the company of our Indonesian visitors and learning to see my life and home through new eyes. Last night Lee & I played music for our visitors, and Lee brought the house down when he played, by request, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain," and our visitors sang along, with great enthusiasm, about 15 verses in Javanese.
That little stone's message rings true through these many joys that bless my life at nearly every unexpected turn. Of course there will be grief, hurt, self-doubt. Hearts and mountains both are vulnerable to strip mining. But life is always ready to spring forth. You should see what's happening out here on Judy Branch!
The first time I ever went hiking with my family, age 4, I began within the first few feet, picking up rocks and putting them in my pack. One would guess the lesson I should have learned that day. I don't take as many rocks with me as I would like to, but to this day I can hardly go on a walk without picking up a stone. I have always felt connected to boulders, stones, rocks and pebbles. I love the feel of sun-warmed stone under my bare feet. Growing up in the Smokies and living my early adult life in the Blue Ridge, I would spend hours hiking mountain streams. Barefoot and with no constraint of time nor any concern for what dishelveled, muddy condition the river would release me, I would explore the feeling of the stream, the way the different kinds of rocks felt under my feet. I usually walked up stream, and I would boulder up onto the larger rock formations and stretch my body over them, feeling the grooves, finding the perfect fit. When I would find that stone that was a perfect fit, I'd lay there and stare into the water, enjoying how my perception of the life of the stream would gradually awaken, allowing me to see the life in fluid motion.
Faerie Godmother wrote in a comment that a stone told her "Don't let yourself be strip-mined. Don't let your grief pollute! Be a clear spring where the water is pure." Now that is the kind of wisdom that comes from a rock. Life is too precious to spend your time in grief and worry. Surely, if Ghandi had allowed the grief he often must of felt to overtake his life... well, just imagine!
A quick weekend jolt to my hometown fed my soul with a deep appreciation for the relationship I have with my parents, which is now emerging into such a wonderful friendship. I also got in a few hours of catching up with one of my long-time close friends, who first inspired me to visit Poland when he was living there a few years ago. Between my upcoming travels and all sorts of insane and mundane life things, we certainly didn't run out of things to talk about. And then I came back home to three animal companions who, after I've left them for a day, want to spend every second by my side. The rest of my time has been spent enjoying the company of our Indonesian visitors and learning to see my life and home through new eyes. Last night Lee & I played music for our visitors, and Lee brought the house down when he played, by request, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain," and our visitors sang along, with great enthusiasm, about 15 verses in Javanese.
That little stone's message rings true through these many joys that bless my life at nearly every unexpected turn. Of course there will be grief, hurt, self-doubt. Hearts and mountains both are vulnerable to strip mining. But life is always ready to spring forth. You should see what's happening out here on Judy Branch!
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Why Can't We Be Friends?
Today my dad and I got into one of many discussions we tend to have. Basically, it comes down to our mutual lack of understanding of how so many outspoken people can get away with saying such stupid things, and people can actual stand to listen to it... and many of them actual agree. Whether it be the right-wing "moral" upholders (who patronize high price call girl agencies while fighting prostitution on a global scale) or the hungry media scouring blogs in search of the "real" story of those impacted by the VT incident, they are all specimens of the human race that leave me feeling that there's little hope for our species. I'm with Tolkein. I just wish I could have been on that boat with Bibo, Frodo and the elves.
On the other hand, a slew of visitors from Indonesia have rekindled my joy in the human race. For a week they have, unexpectedly, been at the forefront of my everyday life, communicating with pure expression, music and mime mixed with fragmented, translated words. The first night I met them (all fifteen or so...) I ended up giving banjo lessons and exchanging dance steps. It was such a grand musical evening that I scrapped together my slim resources and gifted Sofie with a small gord banjo and Anneng with a full-sized banjo to take back to Java with them. We have a few more days left together, and I am so glad that this is so, altho I'm a bit terrified at their request for me to join in a musical collaboration for their puppetry presentation. Javanese music is entirely off the scale of any crooked KY fiddle tunes I've ever heard! I'm not sure I can even find these notes on my banjo... but I'll sure as heck try! I hope that Faerie Godmother will come up to stay on Judy Branch Tuesday evening so she can witness the beautiful Wayang puppetry performance. It is going to be something.
I'm also looking forward to bowling with them tomorrow and then Monday night when they get to meet my esteemed banjo mentor, Lee. He's always so good with entertaining folks, and I think he's excited about meeting visitors from so far away. I'll head over to his house tomorrow after bowling so we can practice up some tunes with him on fiddle & me backing him on banjo. So many good things to get into just in the next 48 hours. That restores a little faith in the human race.
Having all these folks come and stay with us in our little town reminds me of why I love to travel and meet people along the path. The most amazing people you could ever meet are those you meet unwittingly. We are from such varying religious and ethinc backgrounds, but we are all joined together in this shared experience, this common ground of being here now. I am going to miss these happenstance friends when they go back home, but I'm sure glad to be guardian of a long list of Javanese towns as destinations for the next big adventure. (MW, are you ready for our next trip? I'm voting for someplace more tropical... but it's your pick;)
I'm gettig ready to embark on my own exchange trip to small coal mining towns and whatnot in the Ukraine and Poland. I can only hope to make as deep connection with those I visit there as these visitors have made with me. And I wish I could take my first Ambassador to Poland with me.
On the other hand, a slew of visitors from Indonesia have rekindled my joy in the human race. For a week they have, unexpectedly, been at the forefront of my everyday life, communicating with pure expression, music and mime mixed with fragmented, translated words. The first night I met them (all fifteen or so...) I ended up giving banjo lessons and exchanging dance steps. It was such a grand musical evening that I scrapped together my slim resources and gifted Sofie with a small gord banjo and Anneng with a full-sized banjo to take back to Java with them. We have a few more days left together, and I am so glad that this is so, altho I'm a bit terrified at their request for me to join in a musical collaboration for their puppetry presentation. Javanese music is entirely off the scale of any crooked KY fiddle tunes I've ever heard! I'm not sure I can even find these notes on my banjo... but I'll sure as heck try! I hope that Faerie Godmother will come up to stay on Judy Branch Tuesday evening so she can witness the beautiful Wayang puppetry performance. It is going to be something.
I'm also looking forward to bowling with them tomorrow and then Monday night when they get to meet my esteemed banjo mentor, Lee. He's always so good with entertaining folks, and I think he's excited about meeting visitors from so far away. I'll head over to his house tomorrow after bowling so we can practice up some tunes with him on fiddle & me backing him on banjo. So many good things to get into just in the next 48 hours. That restores a little faith in the human race.
Having all these folks come and stay with us in our little town reminds me of why I love to travel and meet people along the path. The most amazing people you could ever meet are those you meet unwittingly. We are from such varying religious and ethinc backgrounds, but we are all joined together in this shared experience, this common ground of being here now. I am going to miss these happenstance friends when they go back home, but I'm sure glad to be guardian of a long list of Javanese towns as destinations for the next big adventure. (MW, are you ready for our next trip? I'm voting for someplace more tropical... but it's your pick;)
I'm gettig ready to embark on my own exchange trip to small coal mining towns and whatnot in the Ukraine and Poland. I can only hope to make as deep connection with those I visit there as these visitors have made with me. And I wish I could take my first Ambassador to Poland with me.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Preparing for Departure
Preparing for departure is never easy. It can be exhilarating, exhausting and damn near impossible. Is anyone ever really ready to leave?
First off, there are so many things to be done. House needs cleaning, garden tending, laundry washing. How do you want to leave things when you go? And what to bring with you? And whom do you need to connect with before you go?
14 days until I get on a plane for Lvov. And really, all I want to do is get my garden planted, play music and just soak in springtime in the mountains. I love being disconnected from the rest of the world. No news, no TV to muddle the experience of being here now. I hope I can feel each moment in the Ukraine and Poland as intensely as I feel it here on Judy Branch.
When I come home I know that there will be many other kinds of departures to deal with. We are always leaving or being left behind.
One of the hardest things about living here is when entire mountains disappear. When I was driving to Berea last week, there was a roadblock. We were being stopped to witness a few men in backhoes systematically tear down trees on the mountainside. The mountain will be next. Living here, you become somewhat hardened to the death of mountains. You just don't have enough emotional energy to deal with it. Sitting there in my car, watching the dozer take down tree after tree that had just begun to sprout spring greens. Deep from within a sob came to surface, and before I knew it I was crying uncontrollably. For the life of me, I can't understand how any living being with a soul can actively participate in the murder of a mountain. I know all the complexities. The people behind the machines have to do those jobs to feed their family. There's a long chain of complicity. Still, I just don't understand humankind's capacity for cold-blooded murder, whether it is against each other, other living beings or entire ecosystems. It's things like this that have me convinced that I missed the boat. How can I be part of this species?
I tend to think too much and live too much in my head. Most of my life I have been terrified of my potential, as a human, to cause pain or harm to others. I have a tendency to want to protect others from myself, and I go through phases where I sort of quarantine myself away from the rest of the world... for their own good. It's not exactly a healthy way of approaching life or relationships. I have so much admiration for my friends who are outspoken and passionate and unafraid of the potential consequences of following their hearts. Maybe my heart has always been uncertain, or perhaps my brain just gets in the way. I am always trumped by this deep need to do what is best for everyone involved. I'd probably make a good mom, except that I really don't want to bring kids into this world.
I don't really expect many people read this blog. I don't try to get it out to the world. I only tell a few friends about it with little expectation that they'll actually read it. Mainly, this was something I set up to force myself to write on a regular basis, something other than grant proposals, reports or journal entries. I try to keep it to what is at the foremost on my mind, while keeping an intentional distance from my job. It seems that even in writing about things that I felt really only related to what was going on in my mind, I still manage to hurt or upset other people.
Someone recently made a comment about an entry I wrote after I learned some pretty devastating news about an old friend. I tried to keep it vague and not easy to identify, but that was under the assumption that my readership is primarily people from this life, not old high school friends. The person commenting used the word Schadenfreude, which means someone who takes pleasure in others' misery. Pretty harsh. It hurts to know that is how, after all these years, she thinks of me.
I hate that horrible things have happened to people I admire and respect. I hate that what I wrote could be taken as an insult when I meant it as homage. I don't enjoy knowing that others are experiencing unimaginable agony. It makes me feel sick. And that's why I wrote something down.
Out of respect for that friend, I will remove the entry and apologize for any pain it may have caused. I figured those old feelings were water under the bridge and that reflecting on them could do no harm. My bad.
First off, there are so many things to be done. House needs cleaning, garden tending, laundry washing. How do you want to leave things when you go? And what to bring with you? And whom do you need to connect with before you go?
14 days until I get on a plane for Lvov. And really, all I want to do is get my garden planted, play music and just soak in springtime in the mountains. I love being disconnected from the rest of the world. No news, no TV to muddle the experience of being here now. I hope I can feel each moment in the Ukraine and Poland as intensely as I feel it here on Judy Branch.
When I come home I know that there will be many other kinds of departures to deal with. We are always leaving or being left behind.
One of the hardest things about living here is when entire mountains disappear. When I was driving to Berea last week, there was a roadblock. We were being stopped to witness a few men in backhoes systematically tear down trees on the mountainside. The mountain will be next. Living here, you become somewhat hardened to the death of mountains. You just don't have enough emotional energy to deal with it. Sitting there in my car, watching the dozer take down tree after tree that had just begun to sprout spring greens. Deep from within a sob came to surface, and before I knew it I was crying uncontrollably. For the life of me, I can't understand how any living being with a soul can actively participate in the murder of a mountain. I know all the complexities. The people behind the machines have to do those jobs to feed their family. There's a long chain of complicity. Still, I just don't understand humankind's capacity for cold-blooded murder, whether it is against each other, other living beings or entire ecosystems. It's things like this that have me convinced that I missed the boat. How can I be part of this species?
I tend to think too much and live too much in my head. Most of my life I have been terrified of my potential, as a human, to cause pain or harm to others. I have a tendency to want to protect others from myself, and I go through phases where I sort of quarantine myself away from the rest of the world... for their own good. It's not exactly a healthy way of approaching life or relationships. I have so much admiration for my friends who are outspoken and passionate and unafraid of the potential consequences of following their hearts. Maybe my heart has always been uncertain, or perhaps my brain just gets in the way. I am always trumped by this deep need to do what is best for everyone involved. I'd probably make a good mom, except that I really don't want to bring kids into this world.
I don't really expect many people read this blog. I don't try to get it out to the world. I only tell a few friends about it with little expectation that they'll actually read it. Mainly, this was something I set up to force myself to write on a regular basis, something other than grant proposals, reports or journal entries. I try to keep it to what is at the foremost on my mind, while keeping an intentional distance from my job. It seems that even in writing about things that I felt really only related to what was going on in my mind, I still manage to hurt or upset other people.
Someone recently made a comment about an entry I wrote after I learned some pretty devastating news about an old friend. I tried to keep it vague and not easy to identify, but that was under the assumption that my readership is primarily people from this life, not old high school friends. The person commenting used the word Schadenfreude, which means someone who takes pleasure in others' misery. Pretty harsh. It hurts to know that is how, after all these years, she thinks of me.
I hate that horrible things have happened to people I admire and respect. I hate that what I wrote could be taken as an insult when I meant it as homage. I don't enjoy knowing that others are experiencing unimaginable agony. It makes me feel sick. And that's why I wrote something down.
Out of respect for that friend, I will remove the entry and apologize for any pain it may have caused. I figured those old feelings were water under the bridge and that reflecting on them could do no harm. My bad.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Almost perfect storm
Another spring finds me traveling for a weekend meeting in Texas. Last year it was Dallas, and right now it's San Antonio. I have to admit that I have actually really started to enjoy going to this meetings, and not simply because of the travel. I have learned to trust that no matter how skeptical I am about the meeting's locale, it is going to be loads of fund because of the people who I'm going to meet. This is one of the aspects of my job that I really don't mind letting seep into my personal time(i.e. weekend and nights).
Last night I dined at a great Mexican restaurant with about ten artists and arts presenters. Then, after taking a little break, a few of us walked from the hotel down to Market Square to check out the opening of a new museum, complete with a FREE outdoor concert with Linda Rondstant. Prior leaving the hotel, we had gotten wind of reports of a major storm and tornado watch headed directly for San Antonio. Relying on our sense of adventure and the reassurances of a local colleague, five of us set to face whatever may hit us. We figured, how much safer would we be on the 5th floor of a hotel?
The square was lively, but not too crowded as the winds began to pick up and lightning could be seen in the near distance. Literally 20 seconds after we turned the corner to face the stage we heard a few strains of Linda's voice, followed by her explaing, "I'm sorry, but they're telling me I have to stop now." Then the announcer warned everyone that a severe thunderstorm was minutes away and everyone should safely find their way to cover. We found our way to a great mariachi bar and rode out the storm in style. The bonus? Music provided to a neighboring table by a huge band, complete with two fiddles, two trumpets, a guitar, that intstrument they use that looks like a seriously over-sized guitar (bandola?) and... a harp!!!
Last night I dined at a great Mexican restaurant with about ten artists and arts presenters. Then, after taking a little break, a few of us walked from the hotel down to Market Square to check out the opening of a new museum, complete with a FREE outdoor concert with Linda Rondstant. Prior leaving the hotel, we had gotten wind of reports of a major storm and tornado watch headed directly for San Antonio. Relying on our sense of adventure and the reassurances of a local colleague, five of us set to face whatever may hit us. We figured, how much safer would we be on the 5th floor of a hotel?
The square was lively, but not too crowded as the winds began to pick up and lightning could be seen in the near distance. Literally 20 seconds after we turned the corner to face the stage we heard a few strains of Linda's voice, followed by her explaing, "I'm sorry, but they're telling me I have to stop now." Then the announcer warned everyone that a severe thunderstorm was minutes away and everyone should safely find their way to cover. We found our way to a great mariachi bar and rode out the storm in style. The bonus? Music provided to a neighboring table by a huge band, complete with two fiddles, two trumpets, a guitar, that intstrument they use that looks like a seriously over-sized guitar (bandola?) and... a harp!!!
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Dogwood Winter
What a week it has been on Judy Branch! It seems that everything is getting greener with each day, and in the past week both redbuds and dogwoods have begun to open. Young sweet peas, mustard greens and beets are coming up in the garden. It seems that the minute I fill up the bird feeders, they are emptied by busy, hungry birds.
Most of the imposter ladybugs have found their way outside. And the best part is that I have been home to witness this fantastic spring transformation.
Today brought Dogwood Winter. The temperatures have plunged, but everything is still so green.
The shock of the sudden cold paired with the clear blue skies and green everything parallels the emotional extremes I have been balancing over the last week. I have been intoxicated with spring delirum and the dizzy anticipation of an upcoming journey to Eastern Europe. These feelings were elevated a hundred fold when I learned that my friend Deborah will also be along for the adventure. Then, numbness followed by an emotional free-fall at learning news that one of my closest high school friends's life had turned upside down in a murderous love triangle. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to people I know! At least, that's what I used to think. It still doesn't feel real, but I am now at least to the point where I am not losing sleep over it.
It has been a blessing and a relief to have a week at home. There's much to be done before I spend a month in Poland and other hinterlands. First off, sleep and lots of it. I tend to run myself far beyond my battery life and then crash. The above emotional yankings intensify the depth of the crashing. Boy, have I slept, and much of the daytime sleeping has been in the hammock! Second: Find relief for the neverending back pain. Last week I finally went to a doctor (who happens to be my neighbor), got xrayed, and now I'm going to physical therapy and taking pain pills (nothing hefty, just a stronger dose than over-the-counter aleve). Wednesday it was pool therapy and tomorrow it will be regular therapy. If there's no improvement by next Wednesday, it's MRI time. Yipee!
Other tasks include learning as much Polish as possible.
Na zdrowie!
Most of the imposter ladybugs have found their way outside. And the best part is that I have been home to witness this fantastic spring transformation.
Today brought Dogwood Winter. The temperatures have plunged, but everything is still so green.
The shock of the sudden cold paired with the clear blue skies and green everything parallels the emotional extremes I have been balancing over the last week. I have been intoxicated with spring delirum and the dizzy anticipation of an upcoming journey to Eastern Europe. These feelings were elevated a hundred fold when I learned that my friend Deborah will also be along for the adventure. Then, numbness followed by an emotional free-fall at learning news that one of my closest high school friends's life had turned upside down in a murderous love triangle. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to people I know! At least, that's what I used to think. It still doesn't feel real, but I am now at least to the point where I am not losing sleep over it.
It has been a blessing and a relief to have a week at home. There's much to be done before I spend a month in Poland and other hinterlands. First off, sleep and lots of it. I tend to run myself far beyond my battery life and then crash. The above emotional yankings intensify the depth of the crashing. Boy, have I slept, and much of the daytime sleeping has been in the hammock! Second: Find relief for the neverending back pain. Last week I finally went to a doctor (who happens to be my neighbor), got xrayed, and now I'm going to physical therapy and taking pain pills (nothing hefty, just a stronger dose than over-the-counter aleve). Wednesday it was pool therapy and tomorrow it will be regular therapy. If there's no improvement by next Wednesday, it's MRI time. Yipee!
Other tasks include learning as much Polish as possible.
Na zdrowie!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Pacific Dreams
Lately I've been remembering my dreams, and many of them have involved the Pacific Northwest or some of my friends from that beautiful locale. Odd dreams, mostly, where I'm in places that resemble recent experiences, such as my recent New Orleans adventures, but place them in another context. One dream was set in a place that was a hybrid mix of Rock n' Bowl (New Orleans) and Sky City (an old super-store we used to shop at when I was a kid), with all the Southern qualities one would expect. Only, it was dark & rainy and in Portland (I think!). In another dream, my friend Rebecca was talking to me in a very matter of fact, casual way, about driving to Portland (from Kentucky, Tennessee or somewhere in my home region). "You know, you just drive through Kansas, take a right, then a left in Idaho... It's easy. I've done it a zillion times.."
Travel is once again on my brain, but I'm surprised that my dreams aren't about taking a boat to Poland, riding trains through the Ukraine, playing my banjo in Belarus. Or perhaps about how I've been incorrectly spelling Belarus (Belaruse!) for months now!
This weekend my travel plans involve going to my hometown to participate in the annual Appalachian Studies Association conference. Of all the meetings I attend, ASA is always my favorite. When get people together who are involved in Appalachian Studies, you are always in for a good time. Thank goodness I didn't choose a highly technical or elitist field! Can you imagine what biochemistry association conferences must be like? I'm sure folks really enjoy geeking out about that stuff, but I'm more inclined to mix my intellectual networking with some banjo pickin' and moonshine sippin'!
Travel is once again on my brain, but I'm surprised that my dreams aren't about taking a boat to Poland, riding trains through the Ukraine, playing my banjo in Belarus. Or perhaps about how I've been incorrectly spelling Belarus (Belaruse!) for months now!
This weekend my travel plans involve going to my hometown to participate in the annual Appalachian Studies Association conference. Of all the meetings I attend, ASA is always my favorite. When get people together who are involved in Appalachian Studies, you are always in for a good time. Thank goodness I didn't choose a highly technical or elitist field! Can you imagine what biochemistry association conferences must be like? I'm sure folks really enjoy geeking out about that stuff, but I'm more inclined to mix my intellectual networking with some banjo pickin' and moonshine sippin'!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Spring Showers
There's certainly been a hint of spring in the air. Over the past couple of weeks, the peepers have come out, welcoming me home with their chorus and creating new challenges for the "do no harm" driver. With each season, there are new critters to avoid squishing with my big metal box-on-wheels. Deer, dogs and possum are always on the list, with wooly worms, monarch butterflies, frogs and turtles acting as seasonal anti-targets (the goal being NOT to hit them). Frogs are the most difficult to dodge. Today I was thrown a surprise. I had to come to a near-halt on the highway for... a wild turkey! I love living in the mountains, no matter how challenging it is for my buddhist tendancies.
I could never be a good Buddhist anyhow. Not as long as the ladybug imposters continue to invade my homestead.
This evening brings showers. The peeper-frogs are loving it, and so am I. There's the scent of change in the air. I am feeling hopeful for experiences I can't even imagine. Rosie-le-chat is obsessed with vitamins that my chiropractor gave me. She is trying to chew through a sandwich bag in attempts to get a bite of adrenal supplements. If only I could train her to eat imposter lady bugs!!!
When I arrived home from the vaults, Bella greeted me sopping wet and covered in mud. I greeted her by giving her a bath - the third she's ever had in her entire life! She curled up asleep on a towel in her favorite chair, somewhat humbled, even though she is ordinarily quite the humble dog. And Sid Vicious? He is studying the space heater. Seems he isn't quite convinced that winter is over just yet.
And that's the Judy Branch update.
I could never be a good Buddhist anyhow. Not as long as the ladybug imposters continue to invade my homestead.
This evening brings showers. The peeper-frogs are loving it, and so am I. There's the scent of change in the air. I am feeling hopeful for experiences I can't even imagine. Rosie-le-chat is obsessed with vitamins that my chiropractor gave me. She is trying to chew through a sandwich bag in attempts to get a bite of adrenal supplements. If only I could train her to eat imposter lady bugs!!!
When I arrived home from the vaults, Bella greeted me sopping wet and covered in mud. I greeted her by giving her a bath - the third she's ever had in her entire life! She curled up asleep on a towel in her favorite chair, somewhat humbled, even though she is ordinarily quite the humble dog. And Sid Vicious? He is studying the space heater. Seems he isn't quite convinced that winter is over just yet.
And that's the Judy Branch update.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Garden Time... at last!
Yesterday I took advantage of my peculiar travel schedule (more later) and stayed home to get a start on my garden. I also took advantage of the slight ease of back pain to turn over four rows the old fashioned way. That's spade by spade. I also managed to pull up some more milkweed and thistle skeletons so that my rows would be equally long. I'm terrible at guessing distances, but I think they were each at least three feet by 25 or 30 feet. Much of my inspiration to just "dig in" rather than waiting for Neighbor Bill's tractor comes from staying at Deborah and Frank's farm outside of Berea. Frank's newly planted pea patch will soon be growing up a trestle that he made from cattle gate/fencing - another source of inspiration. I pulled out an old portable wire closet rack (you know, the self-contained kind that you can use in or out of closet), plopped it over the row where I wanted to plant peas and used it to support a trestle made of the metal pet fencing I'd used to keep the dogs out of the broccoli patch. It looks sort of trashy, but I think it will do the job! I managed to get a row each of beets, turnips and peas planted before calling it a day.
Now you may be wondering about those peculiar travel plans? My alarm went off at 2 AM this morning. I was on the road by 3 AM, on a plane by 6 AM and now I am sitting in a courtyard (circa 1860) just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans, salivating from the fumes of the neigboring Cuban restaurant. Good thing it's lunch time and that getting fed is the first thing on my itenerary!
Now you may be wondering about those peculiar travel plans? My alarm went off at 2 AM this morning. I was on the road by 3 AM, on a plane by 6 AM and now I am sitting in a courtyard (circa 1860) just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans, salivating from the fumes of the neigboring Cuban restaurant. Good thing it's lunch time and that getting fed is the first thing on my itenerary!
Monday, March 05, 2007
Goodbyes Are Never Easy
Everytime I leave Judy Branch, I must go through the process of saying goodbye to Bella. My recent schedule has had me spending several nights away from home on a regular basis, and Bella is always uncertain of when I might return. I'm sure it must be unnerving, not knowing if your best buddy, parental unit, significant other, etc. will return in a few hours, a few days or a few weeks. Poor Bella! I think she and the cats have now become accustomed to spending a night or two alone, and I'm hoping that my current travel schedule will ease the disruption of my being in Poland for a month this spring.
This weekend I was faced with saying goodbye, perhaps forever, to a good friend. At the monthly old time jam this Saturday we learned that one of our music buddies was in the hospital with a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer. Even though he's a young 80, it was heartwrenching news. After the jam, eight of us caravaned up to the Pikeville Hospital and brought the old time jam to Rodney's hospital room. I'm not sure who was most affected by this simple gesture - Rodney, his daughter, or us.
My friend Bev and I were talking about how people have so many different lives. Those folks we play music with have families and friends that have no clue who we are. When we showed up at the hospital, we not only gave Rod a treat, we brought some joy (and relief) to his daughter. She finally got to be part of "that" part of his life that she had heard about but never had experienced. At one point she said to her dad, "Now I see why you always want to go down to Whitesburg..." Bev & I agreed that we want our families to know what to do/who to call if anything were to happen to us. "Callin' in the troops," is how we referred to it. If I were to pass before my folks, I'd want them to be comforted by all my music friends showing
up and playing music for/with me, whether it be at my hospital bed or at my wake. There's something about that musical connection that surpasses anything anyone can ever say or do. It's just something you share without any pretense or predjudice.
This weekend I was faced with saying goodbye, perhaps forever, to a good friend. At the monthly old time jam this Saturday we learned that one of our music buddies was in the hospital with a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer. Even though he's a young 80, it was heartwrenching news. After the jam, eight of us caravaned up to the Pikeville Hospital and brought the old time jam to Rodney's hospital room. I'm not sure who was most affected by this simple gesture - Rodney, his daughter, or us.
My friend Bev and I were talking about how people have so many different lives. Those folks we play music with have families and friends that have no clue who we are. When we showed up at the hospital, we not only gave Rod a treat, we brought some joy (and relief) to his daughter. She finally got to be part of "that" part of his life that she had heard about but never had experienced. At one point she said to her dad, "Now I see why you always want to go down to Whitesburg..." Bev & I agreed that we want our families to know what to do/who to call if anything were to happen to us. "Callin' in the troops," is how we referred to it. If I were to pass before my folks, I'd want them to be comforted by all my music friends showing
up and playing music for/with me, whether it be at my hospital bed or at my wake. There's something about that musical connection that surpasses anything anyone can ever say or do. It's just something you share without any pretense or predjudice.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
back pain
i'm about to give up on the chiropractor experiment. following my session last week i felt a marked improvement in my back and left leg. but for some reason i could not get him to do what he did (basically it was sort of like a deep tissue massage around my lower back) in this week's session. and guess what? the pain in my back has returned... with a vengence! with that returns a numbness in my left leg and foot, awkward limping and severe limitations of movement. after nearly four months of this nonsense, i'm about to lose my mind!
but i'm thinking what i need is either a really good massage therapist or a surgeon.
tonight is a judy branch night, and i'm spending it under an afghan on the couch working on a grant proposal and watching UK play in the SEC tournament. all the critters are napping nearby. i think bella misses her new best friend, justin (see picture above).
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Sticking around the Old Homeplace
With all the traveling that I'm having to do these days, the time I have at Judy Branch has become even more valuable. After my week of hosting the Chocolate Drops, I jumped right back into my new fellowship schedule, which has me driving to and from Berea twice a week. I was so glad to get back home on Friday and enjoy the quiet comfort of my home.
Some strategic planning on my part allowed me to stay home all weekend, even though I hosted a meeting on Saturday morning. Instead of meeting at my workplace, I suggested they all come out to Judy Branch. It was so cozy, sitting around the kitchen table, driking coffee and snacking on cream cheese danishes while we made plans and caught up on each others' lives. While sitting there, I got to thinking about how some aspects of my job really don't feel like work, mainly because of the people I get to spend time with. I feel really fortunate that I get to spend a great deal of my time in the company of people who inspire me with the lives they lead, warm my soul with the stories they tell and humble me with the love that they send my way. I didn't really do much culinary preparation for my guests, but they were pleased nonetheless.
I made a really simple cream cheese danish (at least I think it's a danish!). All you do is put a pack or two of cream cheese & some sugar (1/4-1/2 cup) in a mixer and cream together. In the meantime you melt 1/2 a stick (or less) of butter or margarine. You take one tube of crescent rolls and lay the entire "sheet" of dough flat across a baking sheet, not pressing it flat or doing anything to it at all. You spread the cream cheese mixture on top and then pop open another tube of crescent rolls and lay it across the top, lightly pinching the edges of the bottom & top together. Pour melted butter across the top, sprinkle some cinnamon & sugar over it and pop it in the oven @ 350 for about 10-15 minutes, maybe more. It's done when the dough is cooked and a little brown around the edges.
For lunch we had leftovers I had made from the ingredients I never got around to using during my previous house guests:
A mix of sweet potato and black beans with spices and Kentucky-Creole eggplant pudding (a baked pudding, more like a custard or casserole) over a bed of spinach served with salsa, fresh cilantro and tortilla chips. Pretty yummy for a random combination pulled out of the frige!
While the wood stove kept us nice and warm for our meeting, the weather on Judy Branch became almost balmy by afternoon. To my disappointment, the ground was too moist to plant snap peas. Even so, I got in some garden time pulling up old milkweed skeletons and clearing out the remains of last year's garden.
The weekend was capped off with my Sunday session with Lee. This week I brought a visitor, my fellow Appalachian music fellow. I think Lee & Opal like having company as much as I do. Opal cooked us up a big dinner of green beans she had canned, cabbage, mashed potatoes and cornbread. I love Opal's cooking just about as much as I love Lee's banjo playing!
Some strategic planning on my part allowed me to stay home all weekend, even though I hosted a meeting on Saturday morning. Instead of meeting at my workplace, I suggested they all come out to Judy Branch. It was so cozy, sitting around the kitchen table, driking coffee and snacking on cream cheese danishes while we made plans and caught up on each others' lives. While sitting there, I got to thinking about how some aspects of my job really don't feel like work, mainly because of the people I get to spend time with. I feel really fortunate that I get to spend a great deal of my time in the company of people who inspire me with the lives they lead, warm my soul with the stories they tell and humble me with the love that they send my way. I didn't really do much culinary preparation for my guests, but they were pleased nonetheless.
I made a really simple cream cheese danish (at least I think it's a danish!). All you do is put a pack or two of cream cheese & some sugar (1/4-1/2 cup) in a mixer and cream together. In the meantime you melt 1/2 a stick (or less) of butter or margarine. You take one tube of crescent rolls and lay the entire "sheet" of dough flat across a baking sheet, not pressing it flat or doing anything to it at all. You spread the cream cheese mixture on top and then pop open another tube of crescent rolls and lay it across the top, lightly pinching the edges of the bottom & top together. Pour melted butter across the top, sprinkle some cinnamon & sugar over it and pop it in the oven @ 350 for about 10-15 minutes, maybe more. It's done when the dough is cooked and a little brown around the edges.
For lunch we had leftovers I had made from the ingredients I never got around to using during my previous house guests:
A mix of sweet potato and black beans with spices and Kentucky-Creole eggplant pudding (a baked pudding, more like a custard or casserole) over a bed of spinach served with salsa, fresh cilantro and tortilla chips. Pretty yummy for a random combination pulled out of the frige!
While the wood stove kept us nice and warm for our meeting, the weather on Judy Branch became almost balmy by afternoon. To my disappointment, the ground was too moist to plant snap peas. Even so, I got in some garden time pulling up old milkweed skeletons and clearing out the remains of last year's garden.
The weekend was capped off with my Sunday session with Lee. This week I brought a visitor, my fellow Appalachian music fellow. I think Lee & Opal like having company as much as I do. Opal cooked us up a big dinner of green beans she had canned, cabbage, mashed potatoes and cornbread. I love Opal's cooking just about as much as I love Lee's banjo playing!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Sweet Solitude (Somewhat)
I really enjoy playing the role of hostess. I love to feed people home-cooked food, and I especially love to bring them out to Judy Branch for a few hours (or days) of retreat from that busy world that exists beyond this little hollow. This week I was in full hostessing mode, cooking enough food to feed about 12 people for five days. I didn't get to cook all the dishes I had hoped to make, but there was plenty of food. What I could prepare in advance of the company's arrival, I did last weekend. The rest I had to cook late nights after full days of work. Fortunately, I was in good company with Dom Flemmons as my house guest. He provided an impressive array of music to cook by, kept me awake with irresistable conversation and even helped me cook a bit. Most importantly, he kept me from over-working myself every night! Most of the time we sat around the kitchen table going through our music collections, geeking out full-force about our mutual musical obsessions.
Several other folks came out to Judy Branch last week, with "snow," or I suppose the idea of snow, cancelling several of the school and senior citizens events we had planned last week. We made the most of our free time to really get to know each other. Bella hit it off with Justin, and I think she's actually missing him a little now! By the end of the week, even Sid Vicious felt comfortable around the guests, sitting in the middle of a room full of people!
Company departed on Sunday, and Monday morning I drove to Berea to continue work on my fellowship. Usually I am a house guest when in Berea, but I opted to splurge on a hotel room for some much needed solitude and R&R. It was the best night's sleep I've gotten in over a week! As nice as it was to have a break from being around people, I know when I go back to Judy Branch tonight it will seem empty.
Several other folks came out to Judy Branch last week, with "snow," or I suppose the idea of snow, cancelling several of the school and senior citizens events we had planned last week. We made the most of our free time to really get to know each other. Bella hit it off with Justin, and I think she's actually missing him a little now! By the end of the week, even Sid Vicious felt comfortable around the guests, sitting in the middle of a room full of people!
Company departed on Sunday, and Monday morning I drove to Berea to continue work on my fellowship. Usually I am a house guest when in Berea, but I opted to splurge on a hotel room for some much needed solitude and R&R. It was the best night's sleep I've gotten in over a week! As nice as it was to have a break from being around people, I know when I go back to Judy Branch tonight it will seem empty.
Friday, February 16, 2007
snowed in!
this week i made big busy plans for my visitors, but the weather interfered. it didn't really snow much, not even 1/2 an inch, but things like the senior citizens' lunch and school got cancelled. all those things we were going to do would have been loads of fun. but we had fun just the same being snowed in.
since school was cancelled, and thus all our work commitments until 6pm, we all pretended to be snowed in on judy branch yesterday. it was really cozy having company, eating brunch together, playing music, talking and watching movies.
it looks like we are going to have more of the same, weather-wise: snow flurries. i just hope they don't cancel the square dance tonight! why do people have to be such wimps about a little snow?!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Succotash
There are some combinations that are divine. I believe that succotash achieves this, no matter which manifestation. I've experienced many variations in my life, and there's not one that I've chosen as my standard. This week, for me and all those I'm feeding, succotash is made up from treasures found in my freezer: okra, corn & butter beans, cooked with fresh tomatoes & a habanera pepper (you poke it with a fork, throw it in with the mix while it stews and then take it out when it gets to the desired spiciness).
Another divine combination is chocolate and chili pepper (cayenne, or whatever your palate’s pleasure).
Oh, and I must also give a nod to fresh basil blended into hummus. Yum.
Want a full list of what I’ve cooked up so far for the week (for my lovely guests)?
2 pans of spinach lasagne
macaroni & cheese (made from scratch, except the noodles…)
2 pans of chocolate chip brownies
several pans of hot chocolate chocolate chip cookies
1 carrot cake
1 large bowl of basil hummus
1 vegan spice cake
1 big pot of succotash
1 vegan loaf of cornbread
What else might I cook up this week (during all that spare time)?
An interesting KY-Cajun Eggplant Dip I want to try
Vegetable stew
More cornbread (turns out the vegan guest actually will eat eggs)
Collard greens
Mashed turnips
My friend Blue Artichoke would be so proud of this Lil’ Birdie!
Another divine combination is chocolate and chili pepper (cayenne, or whatever your palate’s pleasure).
Oh, and I must also give a nod to fresh basil blended into hummus. Yum.
Want a full list of what I’ve cooked up so far for the week (for my lovely guests)?
2 pans of spinach lasagne
macaroni & cheese (made from scratch, except the noodles…)
2 pans of chocolate chip brownies
several pans of hot chocolate chocolate chip cookies
1 carrot cake
1 large bowl of basil hummus
1 vegan spice cake
1 big pot of succotash
1 vegan loaf of cornbread
What else might I cook up this week (during all that spare time)?
An interesting KY-Cajun Eggplant Dip I want to try
Vegetable stew
More cornbread (turns out the vegan guest actually will eat eggs)
Collard greens
Mashed turnips
My friend Blue Artichoke would be so proud of this Lil’ Birdie!
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