(More) Travels

I made it home late this morning. I woke up yesterday to realize that I was getting my period on the day of my return trip. I came close to having a panic attack worrying about how I would cope if it was bad. I popped prophylactic narcotics and stopped at the drug store and bought Thermacare wraps.

.

At University Park airport, I had the surprise of running into Brenda and Bill at the yellow car rental. I used to work at the green car rental there. I rented from Mark at the red one. We sat in the back office of yellow and reminisced about the old days when I used to sit in Bill's garage on cold days listening to music while he worked. Brenda and I spent evenings going back and forth between the green and yellow offices and outside, sharing all manner of experiences and man troubles. I unloaded the leftover beer I had on Bill, who gratefully accepted it.

.

I managed to sleep on most of my flights. I finished reading the first book by Kathy Reichs, Deja Dead, which had a thrilling story, but I found the character development on the TV show to be better. I battled a queasy stomach all day, most likely brought on by nerves, and finally succumbed about twenty miles from home. I should have puked in Denver and gotten it over with.

.

I gratefully fell into my own wonderful bed when we got home, and I've been here ever since, with my kitties surrounding me. The worst of my period waited until today, so I'm breaking in my new heating pad and catching up on my online television watching. I was introduced to Big Bang Theory by both Big M and XBFRN, and enjoyed back episodes of the delightfully intelligent and socially inept braniacs this afternoon.

.

East, west, hame's best.

.

Rose

Road Trip

Pennsylvania hardwood forest

Monday morning I was off on a road trip to see my old friends. The first stop was SheWCBN. She was beautiful and comforting and accepting. We sat and drank coffee and talked. Our topics run the gamut and have no limitations. Her new baby is delightful. He’s at the rocking stage of crawling, and he entertains himself. The morning passed quickly, I had a very pleasant beer with lunch, and was on my way to the next stop.
.
I stopped at a beer distributor along the road, only to discover that in Pennsylvania, buying beer is far from simple. They only sell it by the case. You have to go to a bar for a six-pack. I continued on my way, but my Mapquest directions failed me and I couldn’t find my hotel. I finally called XBFRN, who I was supposed to be meeting, to get help. He stayed on the phone, giving me turn by turn directions. We got sandwiches and beer and hung out watching television just like old times. He is as easy and comfortable as ever to be around.

.

I slept badly and woke up early, so I headed off for Tera’s. She hasn’t changed much either. We visited and her girls showed off their handstanding and floor sliding abilities. Pretty women run in that family. She can’t understand my current belief system, but does a fair job of agreeing to disagree. I fed my uneasy stomach the potato soup and grilled cheese Tera prepared and said goodbye.
.
My cousin L.D’s house was a turmoil of children doing chores, so she took me to the bar where she works and I sipped a delightful creamy porter, brewed locally, while L.D. drank a cosmo and we indulged in girl talk. L.D. is like another sister, always a delight to spend time with, always cheerful and accepting. The afternoon was over too soon and I drove back to my parents.

.

rc

Sunday

DeWitt Run

I told Mother I would meet them at church Sunday morning, but wound up sleeping through it. I went with them to the evening service instead, running into several old friends and acquaintances. My favorite encounter was with Shirley, a friendly woman in her sixties. She said, “You’ve put on some weight. It looks good.” Few people could say that convincingly, but she managed very well.
.
Above is the creek that I played in as a child. In the summer we built dams, waded, caught crayfish and salamanders for our personal collections, and made elaborate stone houses for our little, plastic, dollhouse dolls, who all traveled by boat. I spent hours roaming the hill across the creek (pronounced "crick") when I should have been doing my homework. From there we carried endless buckets of water for the garden and for our chickens, rabbits, and dogs. When it rained a lot, we would watch for exotic debris. We would wade miles up and down the creek in search of clay, or the right smooth stone, or simply adventure or escape.
.
rc

Farm Animals

We took A.E. up the street to see the neighbor's goats on Thursday. After that she played outside, getting as dirty as any country kid. Friday we went to the farm and showed her the cows and horses. This is the last picture of the trip before my memory card bit the dust.

.

After that the family went out for lunch. In the evening Little M had us over for homemade ice cream. We rewatched A Few Good Men and munched chips. A.E. drug out the kid-sized rocking chair and a teddy bear as big as herself and had a grand time.

.

Robin woke me early to say goodbye on Saturday morning, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully. I relaxed with Mother and Father, reading, playing Scrabble, and finally solving a Kakuro. The parents seemed so much more relaxed without all the extra company to entertain.

Back at the Ranch

view of home from woods

.

Robin and her family were already there when I arrived at Mother and Father’s. I got my old room in the basement, the one Father built on for Baptist Nun when she moved home after college. After only a few hours sleep the night before, it was a relief to fall into the comfortable bed, pull the quilt up around my ears, and sleep. Halfway through the night, I was reminded of the room’s position directly below the house’s one bathroom by the sound of floorboards creaking and the toilet flushing.
.
Thanksgiving Day dawned early. I awoke at first floorboard creaking and took a walk in the woods. We went to Big M’s house for turkey dinner complete with Little M’s signature stuffing balls. After lunch, we exchanged gifts. Robin and I won’t make it back for Christmas. I got a book about Confucious from Robin and chocolates and a gift card from Big and Little M. In the afternoon, I had a nice conversation with Little M in the kitchen. I like her as a sister-in-law.
.
We went to Aunt Janice’s in the evening and ate the leftovers of her Thanksgiving feast. Aunt Janice doesn’t like turkey and always has ham, which was quite good. I would also highly recommend Wegman’s cranberry relish. A few family secrets were shared, and I found myself deep in a friendly, sparring debate with Uncle George: an unexpected but pleasant surprise.

.

Rose

Travels

Yet another airport proves to charge for wi-fi, so I’ll begin typing the account of my family visit into a Word document like I should have done days ago. My flight out of Eugene the day before Thanksgiving was choppy and uncomfortable, and my gastrointestinal tract was decidedly unhappy even before I left. I sat on the floor when I arrived in Portland doing yoga and deep breathing until I felt a little better. I read and dozed a little on the long flight to Cincinnati, and by the time my third flight finally arrived in State College, I even felt a little nostalgia about arriving back “home”. Notably, all my flights were on time or early.
.
On the half-empty flight from Cincinnati to State College the man who was supposed to sit next to me showed up late, out of breath, with an overdeveloped sense of male entitlement, trying to shove an oversize carry-on under the window seat of the commuter aircraft. I had first tried to get up from my aisle seat to let him by, and second offered to put the bag under the seat for him. He seemed to see nothing inappropriate about getting in my personal space to do it himself as if I weren't there at all. He had decided to sit in the empty seat across the aisle, but there was no space under the seat. He then asked if I could just put the bag in the empty seat next to me "so we can take off." I reminded him that that would be against regulations and the flight attendant would never allow it. He then shoved the bag awkwardly in the space under his feet. I waited to see what would happen. The flight attendant came around for her final check and told him he had to stow his bag. We cooperated simply, and she expertly slid the bag under the seat in front of me after I slid over to the window seat. Mr. Ego then asked me if I would like to switch seats with him for "more leg room." I politely declined, stating that I would prefer to stay where I was.
.
I suppose anyone who flies has stories like these. There's a different twist on inconsideration and stupidity every time. More on my trip to follow.
.
rc

Shadow Eyes

This little kitty loves to take a nap in a laundry bin.

rc

Thanksgiving Solstice Christmas

I'll be leaving Wednesday for my childhood home in Pennsylvania for the Thanksgiving holiday. I'll be seeing Mother and Father as well as Robin and Big M and their families. I completed my holiday shopping, so I could present gifts in person. TSA warns us not to wrap gifts, so I had fun making machine-embroidered gift bags instead. I'm finishing up the laundry tonight, and as a truly risky move, packing without a list.

rc

A History of God- book review

I've finally finished this book, which I've been working on for a little over a month. A review of any meaning would prove difficult and lengthy, so I'll simply post some of the notes I made for myself while reading. I found the book to be well-researched and carefully thought out. Karen Armstrong is the voice of reason, but also the voice of hope.
.
"Effectiveness rather than philosophical or historical demonstration has always been the hallmark of a successful religion."
.
God is beyond thought and cannot be attained by thought. It is only possible to know God when one becomes aware that God is unknowable.
.
Humans create gods that resemble themselves.
.
The roots of monotheism are steeped in pantheism.
.
Because God is essentially unique, he cannot be compared to anything.
.
"A compassionate and commited atheism can be more religious than a weary or inadequate theism."
.
.
I am left to continue my journey of spiritual exploration and discovery. I do so with the expectation that there is more to find. I am confident that the belief system I have left behind has great lack. I am open to learning from any source. I find myself growing from the despair I felt when I first questioned my beliefs and the consequent insecurity in expressing myself to a new confidence and curiosity, and yes, a certainty that there is something out there for me to believe.
.
Rose

Idiom of the Day

"close enough for jazz"

whatever is being done need not be done especially well, just 'good enough'.

the reason for the lack of effort is the laid back and relaxed attitude jazz musicians are reputed to have.

rc

alternate reality- dream journal

I was in some sort of large, fenced city. I got the vague impression that everyone there had been brought there against their wills, but weren't conscious of it. I noticed some men sneaking around trying to get over the fence. At first I thought they were trying to get in somewhere, but I later realized they must have been trying to get out. When I asked people how long they'd been there, noone knew, but they could tell me what year they came, and some had been there for many years. It was a beautiful setting with ponds and mature landscaping. Birds were everywhere, including an osprey-like bird with an unusually long and scary bill. I asked the people if they could have sex here. A few married couples raised their hands. No communication with the outside world seemed to be allowed, but I got a text message on my cell phone: "Help! I'm broke. I need money." It was from our former Landlady and I erased it and mentally dismissed it. It turned out to be from my old friend Hippie Girl, who then showed up very clandestinely at a shopping center. I was very pleased to see her after a long time. (Sarah Snook, say "hello" to your old buddy from Camp Joy if you read this.)

Then I woke up.

Sronnoc Esor

Old Town

This was taken a few months ago. It's Old Town as seen from across the Siuslaw River with the Coast Range in the background. Last night there was a big windstorm, leaving many along the coast without power. No ill effects here. I'm having a lazy day in the hotel before heading back to work tonight.

.

rc

Shadow

Still

10 Questions for the Dalai Lama- movie review

When I saw the Dalai Lama at the Biltmore Hotel in Coral Gables a few years ago, my understanding of lamas didn't go much farther than the Ogden Nash poem. Browsing through Netflix links today I chose this documentary, and I'm happy that I did so.

~

It's impossible not to respect the understated wisdom, good humor, and non-violence embodied by this great man. I am inspired by his wisdom, intelligence, and simplicity to challenge myself to embrace these virtues.

~

Rose

This is True

As I waited at our tiny local post office in the village market this morning I browsed the daily local news organ, The Cofffee Break, printed on a single folded sheet of colored paper. The police blotter is printed there in its entirety. I laughed outloud when I read this item:

A bag of marijuana was found and turned in at the police
station. The owner can claim it by showing up and identifying it.

Travels

I can't prove it, but the best part of our Portland trip was the spectacular scenery along the way. We left as it was already getting dark, but the twilight reflected in the Umpqua River like a ribbon in the darkness. We walked to BJ's Brewery from the hotel for a late dinner and a brew, and even in the dark I couldn't help but notice the beautiful autumn foliage along the way. At lunch I walked outside the conference and looked out over the sparkling Columbia River at majestic, snow-covered Mount Hood. As I drove around Portland, failing to find the Japanese Garden, more fall leaves were everywhere. Our drive back today was dominated by foggy farmland, with trees and barns and farmhouses rising out of the fog. The fog lifted as the slanting sunset light colored the distant mountains purple and the countryside a rich amber, before settling behind the hills with a farewell blush above the horizon.
.
I did accomplish practical things. I nearly finished holiday shopping. I'm still stymied by a certain camofluage-loving brother-in-law though. I bought materials for holiday cards and gift wrap. I even shopped for myself and enjoyed it, something that extended deprivation of civilization made possible. In lieu of the elusive Japanese Garden, we had lunch at Blue Tangerine. I had a delicious Persian vegetarian appetizer platter. Sadly, they were out of Turkish coffee. I like meat, we have steak three times a week at Dahlia Man's, but the vegetarians really know how to flavor a meal.
.
Now, back home, and happy.
.
Rose

At Rest

I sit alone on the wide, pebbled verandah. A vibrant, golden-leaved maple stands nearby, its top rising nakedly out of the yellow glory like a different tree altogether. On a straight, lower limb a grey squirrel reclines, balancing easily though the branch is smaller than it. The squirrel closes its eyes as the warm, autumn sun warms its fur; it stretches out a jittery front leg for balance when a light breeze stirs its resting place. I ponder the harmony and peace inspired by this small, resting creature and the golden leaves complementing the bright blue of the cloudless sky.

rc

Dearth

My blogging has been abyssmal, and my new excuse is that the camera batteries will no longer hold a charge and I am forced to resort to pictures from my archives that were not deemed either good enough to publish or bad enough to throw away. I had an unusually bad period this week when I was supposed to be having fun. I've recovered however, and we're headed for Portland today for a conference tomorrow. I'm hoping that civilization will have a new camera battery, thus reigniting my creativity.
.
rc

Oddments- dream journal

My dreams last night involved church, an open air movie, a six-inch long, braided facial hair, a naturopathic healer who wanted me to catheterize myself, seeing my nurse practitioner in an office that looked like an abandoned warehouse, a park with pretty trees, being lost on icy country roads with threatening hillbillies, Trent Gravely in a very beat-up minivan, and probably twenty other strange elements that I can't remember.

Sronnoc Esor