Monday, June 25, 2012

Overthinking



I woke up today to find this in an email:
I look for lessons in lives well lived, and of course, that is, itself, the lesson. Live well. Follow your dreams. Make of your life a blessing — and not because there are any guarantees, but because there aren't.

You live a good life with lots of people who love you and you're making a difference in people's lives.

Just thought about you this am.
I also got to enjoy some thirty-plus year friends on Friday and Saturday with a visit to their home. Friday’s dinner gathering included two of their daughters with their husbands and a menu my hostess hadn’t ever served the family. One daughter, enjoying the shrimp, couscous, cheesy bread and other fixins’ asked her mother why they hadn’t had it before. The answer was: “Peter was coming, I had to do something special.”

Later that night, well into a session of solving the world’s problems, I asked my host, “Why am I here? Why does your family like me?” He smiled, paused a bit, and then said, “We love you.”

This is one of those times I shouldn’t think too much, nor take a thing for granted. But, as many know, that isn’t how I usually roll!

Is it hard to accept kindness and love? I know that the sentiments I mention above (and have received from others – not the least of which is a photo I include with this post from students I had the privilege to mentor) are sincere, heartfelt and made with no base motives. I hear these words while being severely aware of all my skeletons, foibles and failings and it’s hard to wrap my head around the affection. Is it common to define oneself only through the harsh prism of self-doubt?

I really am not trying to be melodramatic, but does anyone else feel this way? Do some? Do most?

I’ve often said that if anyone hears me whining about life, they have my permission to smack me upside the head – I’m blessed in so many ways and am very grateful.

It's time to take a deep breath, and realize that it's okay to accept love and appreciation.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

How does your garden grow? (part II)





I spent about a half hour weeding my little garden this evening. Warmer temperatures and a fairly regular watering regime have combined for some early harvests and plenty of promise for the coming weeks.

This year’s inventory includes a couple of dozen garlic plants (cloves sown last October; have already cut the flowers off!), broccoli, potatoes (I gave up trying to keep them covered they were growing so fast), two varieties of peppers, kale, tomatoes, onions, “Ruby” and romaine varieties of leaf lettuce, horseradish, and, for the first time, I put about 20 gladiola bulbs down the center of the rows hoping for a great splash of color in August.

In pots, I have the proverbial parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (not intentional, I promise!) and various annual flowers in the corner of the north deck.

Back in the wildlife area, white pine and spruce trees planted in 2008 are finally peeking over the pervasive and tall reed canary grass. A group of friends and I planted about 200 seedlings one misty October weekend – I’m guessing about 75 or so have made it.

“Elephant” sunflowers were planted in late May in the fields on the north and south sides of the house – but have yet to make an appearance. A conversation with my farmer neighbor this morning left us both hopeful but concerned.

The southernmost field is full of emerging corn – about shin high. With a bit more rain, there should be no problem scraping knees on July 4.

The early heat and late frosts have neutered my peach trees this year and may have knocked back apple production as well. Somehow, it looks like one of the cherry trees may bear fruit.

The place is rife with woodchucks, chipmunks, a myriad of song birds, herons, cranes, and amphibians and reptiles of various stripes. Nearly every evening, I can see deer wading in the upper pond. Occasionally, a Ringneck pheasant complains about something and, for the first time, wild turkeys have joined the fray. I need to shore up part of the big barn’s foundation.

So far this year, I’ve had the privilege of hosting 70 - 80 friends here for various gatherings and look forward to a score or two more.

The state of the farm seems just fine.


Thursday, June 7, 2012

1896


My mother’s parents were both born in 1896 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania – she in March, he in October.

While I know that my enate family is most grateful for their birth and eventual meeting, a few other interesting things happened that year: the first Olympics of the modern era were staged; Fanny Farmer published her first cookbook; X-rays were discovered by Wilhelm Roentgen; the Tootsie Roll was introduced; John Philip Sousa's "El Capitan" premiered in New York; the first “horseless carriage” show was staged in London (with 10 different models!); Plessy v Ferguson entrenched segregation in the U.S.; Dow Jones launched its industrial index of twelve stocks – with an initial close of 40.94; Henry Wells was the unfortunate driver in the first automobile accident when he hit a bicyclist in New York City; William Jennings Bryan gave his “Cross of Gold” speech at the Democratic Convention; Miami was incorporated; Adolf Ochs purchased the New York Times; Queen Victoria became the longest reigning monarch in British history; "Also Sprach Zarathustra" (Thus Spake Zarathustra) debuted in Frankfurt; and National Geographic published its first photo including an uncovered female breast (much to the delight of many an adolescent male!).

William Earle Craig and Alice Isabelle McIntyre’s marriage followed “Earle’s” honorable discharge after his service in World War One. His discharge papers described him as five foot seven inches tall, having blue eyes, red hair and a ruddy complexion. Having enlisted in 1917 as a Private First Class Assistant in the Dental Corps Medical Department, he eventually passed necessary examinations for promotion to rank of First Lieutenant in the Dental Corps. Also on his discharge papers was the description of his character as “excellent.”

Alice worked for a time prior to marriage at a steel company (Pittsburgh, go figure) and she and Earle had four children through the 1920s and early 1930s. They lived in Crafton, PA – part of the greater Pittsburgh area – and Earle took the street car daily to his dental practice where, during the
Depression, many patients paid him in vegetables, live chickens, and other forms of barter. One interesting remittance was a wood carving of a hound in full bay – an artifact I proudly display in my home.

As an aside, I’ve learned that the streetcar had two proximate stops to my grandparents’ home – one about two blocks prior to reaching the house and one about one block past. Earle couldn’t bear to ride the streetcar past his house and always opted to get off at the first stop despite its diminished convenience. I’m almost embarrassed to admit, but I totally get this!

Grandfather (I’m using this term because I never got to meet him) became well lauded as a dentist and was celebrated by the ADA and was an officer in the Western Pennsylvania dental organization. I’m told he enjoyed interacting with colleagues, was well respected, and was a lot of fun.

As one of the youngest of his grandchildren, I got to observe my older cousins as they embraced and survived much of the counterculture known as“the 60s” (despite it carrying into the early 70s), made careers in far reaching fields, married, divorced, sometimes remarried (and often again remarried!), and, with the rest of us, waddled through life more and less scathed. I can proudly say that among the generations, there is a federal judge, a movie producer, an NFL player, a part time puppeteer, a school teacher, a former officer in the intelligence service, a published author, a school bus driver, engineer, attorneys, an accountant, successful parents, entrepreneurs, and a few bandits.

Our first comprehensive family reunion – in 1978 – included a variety of gatherings, laughter, varied menus and, oh yes, pot brownies. Apparently, a cousin gave my aunt a pot plant for Mother’s Day and one of her sisters (not pointing any fingers. . .but the list is short!) dared her to make the laced confection. Aunt wasn’t at all familiar with the proper techniques of cooking with cannabis, and put the entire plant into a blender, chopped it roughly and added it to the batter. These brownies were, I think this is accurate, of the first high fiber offerings ever – you could see the stems, leaves, etc. sticking out of the chocolate. The cousins were thrilled and particularly enjoyed feasting on the brownies in full view of the federal judge uncle who would not have hesitated putting us all in jail had he known the nature of the treats. Two generations got a bit high that evening and we all regenerated our family ties.

Somehow, I think Earle would have been amused; Alice, aghast.  




Thanks to http://www.historyorb.com/events/date/1896 for background information

Monday, June 4, 2012

What a difference a day makes



I expected to feel unsettled today: to be pensive, perhaps even brooding. About six months ago, I took a full hour to do the calculations and I doubled checked my math and even counted days on several calendars. Yes, today was the day.

Now, things are going well. My little garden promises an abundance of potatoes, peppers, garlic, horseradish, kale, broccoli, zucchini, tomatoes, and cabbage. I had an excellent meeting yesterday with “my” students; shared dinners over the weekend with dear friends and am looking forward to some major events tied to my job. Recent renovations on the house turned out successfully and, in general, turning the page from spring to summer at the farm reminds me of how blessed I am.

Recent medical news is all positive and I’m looking forward to several gatherings with friends in the coming weeks and months.

So, why doesn’t today carry the weight of watershed? Why does it feel like a normal day? Why do I feel OK?

Since that other day in 1982, the Space Shuttle was launched and scrapped and computers are now more powerful in a phone than in an entire floor of a 1960’s building. Dictators were toppled, others bolstered; we rethought engineering and mapped the human genome. Presidents Reagan, Bush, Clinton, Bush, and Obama occupied the White House. Women or other minorities routinely lead corporations, government departments and the PGA tour; with it becoming less and less historic (as it should be). Phones no longer have curly wires.

Reality television has replaced the hard work of talented screen writers (not everything is progress) and books are a digital rather than tactile experience.

My brother married; one of his children is married. I graduated from college, held fascinating jobs, owned three homes in two states and a cottage on Drummond Island. I got to share my life with a certain Black Dog from his 7th week to his demise at 14 years. I’ve made some amazing mistakes, been forgiven often, have learned how to forgive. I have great friends.

Today, I matched the length of my father’s life. Tomorrow: I’ll be a day older than he ever could. I balance my memory of him as “old” and “stable” with my current attitude of hopefulness, acknowledged naiveté, and curiosity/concern about the future. Did he feel the same way on his life’s last day?

Dad has been gone too long to miss him on a daily basis and – in some ways – I feel a bit of guilt over that. But, maybe I shouldn’t. He was proud of my brother and me and he loved mom. I think he probably lived long enough to be happy.

Dad, I’ll try to do the same.





To learn a bit more about him, click Here