Balance

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July 16, 2024, Yachats, OR- The otherwise congenial motel owner bemoaned the fact that the temperature in this resort town had not topped 55 F today, and that the fog had hung on for most of the day. I can understand the frustration that many residents of the coastal Northwest, at the constant fog and drizzle. Still, for the rest of the continent, such gloom is actually a pleasure. We seek balance, wherever we may live and in whatever circumstances we may find ourselves. Therein lies the choice: Be content with where and how we are, or make adjustments.

Yachats (pronounced YAA-haats), is a small resort town, just north of Cape Perpetua, on the central Oregon coast, north of Florence. The Yatel is a delightful small establishment, with a mini-kitchenette (plates, bowls, cups and glasses, stainless steel utensils, cookware, hot plate, toaster-and the standard mini-fridge and microwave oven). The place is worth the cost, though I know that if I am ever this way again, it would be a good idea to book ahead.

Cape Perpetua, about three miles south of here, is another Oregon Coast gem. The wind gets intense up there, just as it does at Cape Mendocino, way down in California’s Lost Coast region and in many similar spots along the North Pacific. Still, it is a magnificent place, and I noted a huge number of RVs parked in the roadside spots, last night. Here are some scenes of Cape Perpetua, in the clarity of daylight.

Cape Perpetua (Above and next few scenes)
Looking towards the top of Perpetua. (Above and below)

Earlier today, I spent about an hour with two dear friends in Ashland, OR., catching up on how things have gone for each of us, since my visit there last July. Jody, Philip and their faithful guard dog, Stryker, are still hanging tight.

From Ashland, I continued up I-5 to Winston, then cut over on Rte. 42. Coquille has Uncle Randy’s, with hearty diner fare. Randy has a pay-it-forward option, mainly for locals: A regular can pay a certain amount towards a meal for one who is known to be less fortunate. The limit is one person paying for one meal, once a week. This is a fine example of faith-in-action-and compassionate conservatism. The food was marvelous, in my palate’s opinion.

I will spend a few minutes checking out Yachats further, in the light of day, then head onward up the coast, completing a journey that I interrupted in 2012, and be in Hoquiam by mid-afternoon.

Action, rest, heat, cold-it’s all about balance.

Farm to Table

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July 15, 2024, Orland, CA- My hosts have a “tomato problem”. The fruit is everywhere, on their ten acre spread. Lots of goodness has found its way to fruition here, on the south side of this earnest, and squared away, farming community, west of Chico.

The Central Valley is hot, as it always is in the height of summer, with the added burden today of a massive fire at a recycling plant on the edge of Chico, some twenty miles east. There have already been fires in Oroville, 40 miles to the south, and I could see the faint outlines of smoke to the north of here, as I drove into Orland’s neat and clean downtown.

Here on County Road 18, though, the air is cooling off and the fields are lush, drawing sustenance from the canals and the irrigation ditches that connect these tendrils of one of America’s prime breadbaskets. My hosts came here from the oven of Phoenix, about 18 months ago, and immediately felt a ton of relief, at the ambiance of being between two mountain ranges and the sense of contributing to food security.

Almond orchard, Orland, CA

Assorted fruit trees (apple, plum and apricot) adorn the north and east sides of the spread. (Above and below)
Irrigation is king here. This ditch nourishes several farms in southwest Orland.

The trees also serve as windbreaks.
Every farm needs a barn with good bones.
Lee, with the bees. This mini-apiary helps to not rely on commercial hive keepers, who service the larger farms nearby.

Needless to say, 9/10 of the dinner plate was filled with goodies that came straight from the backyard: Potatoes and a good part of the salad mix. The meat was from down the road, but it was organic, too.

The road here from Carson City was a very clogged, slowed by construction along I-80 and CA 20, and much quicker on CA 32. Truckee was a fun stop, with mid-morning snack at Coffee And, and just people watching along Main Street. Families are just a joy to observe.

Breathing country air is, likewise, a joy-especially on a spread that is free of toxic pesticides. It’s been a reassuring break, to see the fruits of good folks’ labours.

Devotion

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July 14, 2024, Carson City- There is much that one does for love, in this life, that would not otherwise be on one’s personal agenda. Parents and grandparents most often know this. So do caretakers of disabled spouses or elderly parents. Teachers and coaches also do, to some extent, though their personal agendas are wrapped within their callings.

This goes well beyond the obvious things, like bathing and dressing those who are unable to do so for themselves, or watching small children who are playing outside, or in a public space. It extends to those who “hold their noses and play yet another round” of a game one finds tiresome or even irritating. It becomes, at its level best, an exercise in detachment.

Thus did a friend spend time with a beloved child. I joined them, finding actually a mild amusement in the game, which is more than a bit whimsical. Such is childhood, on occasion, and rightly so. There is more than enough preparation for adulthood that faces today’s children, and at an earlier age-despite what pundits and commentators say about delayed adolescence. There is that too, of course, and the rub is that someone has to be the mature decision maker and social actor. When an adult-even a parent-is in the midst of delayed adolescence, sometimes the child(ren) have to step in. I have seen this in a great number of cases, over the years. Children, in such instances, are out on a limb, and do the best they can-but they don’t have all the tools necessary to hold things together.

Grandparents are in a very special position. There are jokes made about being able to send the kids home, at the end of a day, but there is no love quite like that of Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, Nonna, Aba, Bump or Meemaw. It is, in its essence, a reflection of the deep love that is held for one’s adult children, that the thought of them not succeeding, of them suffering the injury or loss of their offspring is beyond the pale.

Being a grandparent in waiting, I understand this concept, and am glad to just be able to dote on those children and youths of other friends and relatives-until such time as my own grandkids arrive-and even then, devotion is unlimited.

“You’ll Understand Some Day”

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July 12, 2024, Beatty, NV- So did the attendant, at a convenience market in the small Mohave Desert town of Dolan Springs, explain a decision she had made to a much younger woman. Since I am inclined to wish long and happy lives to just about anyone I meet, I silently concurred. Mom always answered my chortles at one or another of her predicaments by singing “Your day will come“.

After a morning of home base activities, whilst waiting for the final word on a possible shelter, I prepared for Trip # 3, of 2024. Right at Noon, the shelter was deemed unnecessary, and by 1 p.m., I set out. Six hours later, after pit stops in Seligman, Dolan Springs, Las Vegas and Amargosa, I stopped here, so as to join a Baha’i Zoom call. It was plenty to drive here, in heat that ranged between 95-118 (35-47.77) degrees. My AC worked its magic and I was fine, so long as I kept pushing water down my gullet.

All along the drive, I contemplated the when of letting go- of power, of control, of position. This is not an issue for me, personally, but it seems much of the leadership of our governmental, financial and social institutions is unable to pass the baton. I have been ecstatic when a younger person shows up and is ready to take up the mantle of whatever mission I have had in front of me. I will always be willing to lend a hand, but being in charge is a bonus, not a craving.

Perhaps some of the younger ones will experience a strong urge to hold on, overstaying their welcome and even outliving their usefulness. Should that happen, I offer this, right here, right now. “May your time in the limelight impart lessons and knowledge that serve you well-and may those be of the sort that can be shared with the younger generations of YOUR seniorhood. May you remember these days, and know when to take the position of being ONE among many, of a number of generations who work together.”

I will spend much of the weekend with one of my favourite families, with 5 or 6 bright, engaging children, and their loving parent and grandparents. There is no overbearing or insecure adult there, at least not when it comes to the children’s upbringing.

Those who have tried are relegated to the periphery of the children’s lives. May they understand, some day.

Once More, with Cinnamon

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July 11, 2024- The whirling dervish of energy kept on spinning today. At one point, I packed a “go bag” of stuff, went out to the car and found…I had left my keys in the house. After looking about for a bit, I found the carefully hidden spare key and got my act together again.

This is a week of everything happening simultaneously. As the call came for me to join two other volunteers on a preliminary shelter arrangement, I was also dealing with a charitable transaction that involves a phone app-which is similar in name to another phone app. (Don’t worry, both are legitimate.) The school that is getting the cash will wait until tomorrow, and as it happens, the decision on setting up a shelter will also wait until tomorrow.

So, three of us went out to a community about 45 miles west southwest of Prescott, and dropped off a trailer of supplies, to be used in the event of a shelter being established. We then turned around and came back. My part in this matter is done, unless a roaring blaze rekindles, between now and 10 a.m. tomorrow.

The day started with my annual physical examination. I was pronounced a fine physical specimen-younger in appearance than my age. There is only an issue with not drinking enough water-easily resolved, and a slight uptick in LDL-so I am to take one more Red Yeast Rice capsule (total of 2)-and 1 cinnamon capsule, each day. I can do this, and keep on with weight reduction and a fine mental balance. This PA sees all of his 70+ year-old patients every six months, so I will be checked again in January. No worries.

Tomorrow, I will head over to Kingman, up through sizzling Las Vegas and on towards Carson City, spending two days with my Nevada family. Then it’s up through northern California, Oregon and Washington, with stops to see Baha’i and other friends-and across the Straits of Juan de Fuca, to Vancouver Island, the Sunshine Coast, Metro Vancouver and southeast British Columbia, before reversing the route.

That is, unless the blaze rekindles.

Systematic

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July 9, 2024, Bellemont- Staff-wise, I was a none-person show, yesterday evening, as camp entered its second night. The chaperones have their own way of doing things, and take the rules and regulations of the camp committee in stride. We both get to the same place, in terms of serving the campers. That, to me, affirms they are on the right path, even if it is different from the way I do things. Al-Bab, Who was executed 174 years ago, today, stressed the importance of working systematically and in unity, in the course of establishing a truly peaceful world.

This being a Baha’i Holy Day, my post is a mere two paragraphs. Suffice it to say, my parents raised us to approach anything we do in a thoughtful and systematic manner. It took me a bit longer than my siblings, but I have been in that frame of mind, for at least fifteen years. It is crucial to my well-being, and personal safety, moving forward. Expanding this ethic, every problem that families, communities, nations and the planet as a whole face requires a systematic and well-thought-out approach, in order to truly address the matters raised. It doesn’t mean that the same problem(s) won’t resurface again, down the road, but it will provide a roadmap for dealing with them now-and when they rear their human-nature-caused heads again.

The Marvels

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July 7, 2024, Bellemont- Three people stood outside an RV, at the Pilot Truck Stop. One held a sign that said “Out of gas”. Various people were handing them money, as I passed by, going to the roundabout. I trade in commodities, not cash, and so gladly filled their gas can and wished them a better day.

I am sitting on an Internet connection that says it has NO Internet access. I am feeling plenty of energy, even though yesterday I flew across the country, then took a 2 1/2 hour bus ride, in the heat. We had a nice day with the ten middle-age school campers and six youth who are mentoring them. The kids are engaging and just glad that people care enough to spend a small part of their summer teaching them of social skills and the moral compass.

It was a pleasant trip from Prescott, made more so by a stop at Brewed Awakenings, my favourite establishment in Williams. Though I no longer need coffee to get me started in the morning, it does go nicely with breakfast or brunch, which I enjoyed this morning. Once having paid it forward, at the truck stop, I found myself getting to camp, at the same time as the two vans full of campers and gear.

Orientation was swiftly done; I received condolences, on the loss of my mother, from the cook and two of the mentors, and we each did our little activities, mostly indoors due to the heat. I have been advised that my hydration level needs to be increased even more than it has been, and this heat means my water intake will need to be triple what it was a few months ago.

Marvels are still unexpected and uplifting events, whether great or small, and have little to do with the comic book and action film characters who have been given that collective name. I expect that the next 2 1/2 days will see their share of the unexpected and uplifting.

Darlings

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July 6, 2024- A fire closed the highway between here and Phoenix, so the shuttle driver took a more circuitous route, still getting us back here in very decent time. I was able to join a snap meeting on Zoom, to tend to a small, but essential, piece of business. All is now well, at the end of a hard, but essential, journey to say farewell to the woman who gave me life. Her photographs, interspersed throughout this modest Home Base, and all those memories of the past seven decades, keep my mother “ever gentle on my mind.”

Four of my darlings have now gone on-Mom, Penny, and my two grandmothers. They themselves are surrounded by those who loved them dearly, and many who loved me as well. All of my aunts, uncles, in-laws and several cousins are in the spirit vanguard that keeps us safe here, in this mortal frame. So are my grandfathers, one of whom I am said to resemble. Though he was long dead, when I arrived, I have thought of him often, over the years and feel a strong connection.

Many darlings remain-Kathy, my nieces and grandnieces, sister, daughter-in-law, sisters-in-law, aunts, and all manner of friends, here in Arizona and across this wide world. It’s different with the men and boys- I love them dearly as well, but the women and girls reflect everything that my dear mother gave to each of her five children. She called it “smotherly love”, and at times it felt rather heavy, but I know just how deeply a mother-child connection is, having watched Penny, from that day 36 years ago, tomorrow, until the moment of her death. Fathers guide, nurture and support their children, but sometimes we get so caught up in our roles as providers, that the emotional aspect of life gets short shrift. Mothers, with few exceptions, never waver in that regard.

Mom always knew how I was, no matter how hard I tried to keep a brave face. Darlings never let their darlings down.

Short Limbos

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July 5, 2024, Boston- The cobblestone walk, in the photo on my wall, in this spacious, yet relatively simple room, near Fanueil Hall, pretty much spells it out. There are light curves and a mild turn to the left, before the photo print heads into eternity. The photograph encapsulates my trip from Woburn, this afternoon.

It could have been so much worse, had the random driveway and lane closures of last week still been in effect, around the Car Rental Center at Logan Airport. As it was, we go to the airport area in less than 20 minutes, I topped off the tank and returned the vehicle, leaving plenty of time to catch the shuttle to the terminal, where Aram caught his flight, and my getting cash for incidentals and various tips. It was a quarter mile alley oop to the taxi stand, then the sharp, efficient driver got me to the Bostonian Hotel, in ten minutes.

The Bostonian Hotel, near Fanueil Hall.
The Parlor, lobby of Bostonian Hotel.

These were very short limbos, and it was gratifying that I did far less overthinking and ruminating about them than in times past. Both self-confidence and trust in the Divine are far greater than they have been. Mother got a fabulous send-off, family and friends who I hadn’t seen in years came to pay their respects to her and re-connect with one another, and with me. Aram came to have my back, and in the process completed much of his remaining academic work. Yunhee, waiting at home, got a lobster stuffed figure. I have a sense that one more powerful spirit guide is going to help me over various challenges, in this still roiling year, and through the rest of the decade. As a bonus, she guided me to a nice place for a lobster salad roll and cup of clam chowder, to close out my time in Massachusetts.

Fanueil Hall, Boston

Shortly, I will get my rest, then rise early tomorrow and make the flight back to Arizona, via Denver. It has been a semi-expected, and reassuring, ten days.

Heard Around the World

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July 4, 2024, Woburn, MA- With ringing tones, a volunteer in 18th Century garb, replete with a tricorner hat, read the Declaration of Independence, in its entirety. There was then a procession of five uniformed Colonial Volunteers to North Bridge, where they re-enacted a volley of three rounds of musket shots, representing the “Shot heard around the world”.

Aram and I chose to focus on the North Bridge sector and Monument Square, Concord, integral parts of Minuteman National Historical Park, which commemorates the beginning of our nation’s long, and unfinished, struggle for the freedom of all. The commander of Massachusetts Militia forces, Colonel James Barrett, had warned his men not to fire upon the British regulars, a directive that changed, when the regulars marched to North Bridge, leading the Militia forces to fire upon them and causing the British to retreat.

We walked around the North Bridge area, then back to Monument Square and along Main Street, and at long last, I visited an area that had been drive-through country, with family and friends always drawing me to a small section of the North Shore. This will not be my sole visit to the Minuteman region. Massachusetts will always be one of my homes.

Here are some scenes of downtown Concord, and around North Bridge

Concord Town House

Ship’s bell from USS Concord

Concord River, at North Bridge

Minuteman Statue, North Bridge

North Bridge, from the Visitor Center

The Old Manse (Emerson family home). Here, William Emerson, grandfather of Ralph Waldo Emerson, witnessed the skirmish at North Bridge.

Main Street, Concord. We ended our visit with cool beverages at Nero Coffee House. It’s been a fine unwind, from a very long week.