Hibernation

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January 20, 2016, Chino Valley- It’s easy to enter into hibernation, physical and /or mental, in the somnolent season.  I linger in bed a bit longer, in January, than I do even a month prior, or following.  The darkness does not spur one forward.  It is the sense of light; the inner sense of duty, that gets me going, during these days of what passes for winter, around here.

I will be going up to Colorado, next week, leaving Wednesday morning and getting back sometime on Sunday, the last day of January.  Much of the time will be spent talking, pondering and internalizing ways to promulgate the the beneficial use of essential oils.  I am encouraged when I see how many people are taking to these time-honoured healing media.  Whether through the company whose products I promote and use, one of its competitors, or that most American of systems, DIY, essential oils cast forth no side effects.

I digress.  The topic at hand is hibernation.  I wish the Wall Street bears would go back into hibernation, and stay there.  They have a job to do, though:  Teaching us all not to be greedy, for what one holds too tightly, others can and will take away.

Winter, for me, though, cannot be a time of slumber, or of sorrow.  I must go up north, and tend to my part in the healing arts.  I will miss my precious children, those three school days, but what I bring back will only help them, and everyone else I meet, to have a better life.

That said, I may sleep in (until 6:30) tomorrow- unless the call to duty comes beforehand.

Snake Eyes

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January 11, 2016, Prescott-I had a job today, then it was cancelled.  In honour of that, I tended to small business items, like getting the drivers for my printer re-installed in my laptop.  Now, however, it’s time for a tale about a turtle, a bull snake and their minder.

Prompt # 3:  “It was most assuredly NOT my doing!”, fumed Dr. Pletenick, the lead herpetologist at San Saba Reptile Sanctuary.  The broken glasses, which belonged to his chief assistant, Gret (short for Margaret) Artursson, were a source of minor tension around the center, as she had left them on his desk, by mistake, before having to unexpectedly head home, yesterday.  Gret, at only 22, was facing cataract surgery, in a month. Her other pair of glasses were at home, 27 miles away, east of San Saba, which, as anyone familiar with the area knows, is tantamount to going to Timbuktu.

Ross Pletenick, for all his expertise about things reptilian, was a bit of that ilk himself, when it came to dealing with human beings.  Gret thought to herself that, were it not for the lucre coming from her job, and her own love of turtles and tortoises, she would be far away from THAT creature, and THIS place.  It was not the first time old Pletenick had dismissed her plight.  Yet, the insurance was bounteous, and would make her surgery that much more affordable.

Her unusual medical history was outlined in some obscure records, some of which were written in Icelandic, regarding her father’s line.  “There aren’t too many of us Arturssons in the world”, thought Gret, “but we are said to be descended from the old Anglo-Saxon king, himself.  How his descendants got up to Iceland, I’ll never figure out.  Maybe some of them drifted over to Ireland, after the Norman invasion, and went north with the monks.”

Her reverie was broken by the nudge of one of her favourite turtles, Micah.  The  juvenile  leatherback had been rescued from the Gulf, off Dauphin Island, following the Deepwater Horizon fiasco.  The Mid-Texas desert was an odd place of refuge, indeed, for a sea creature, but here he was, having been brought out here by a Gulf native, who had relocated to Odessa, but had no room for a marine turtle.

“Let’s play some nudge the beach ball, Babykins”, Gret cheerfully chirped to her chelonian friend, “then I must get over to check on the Aldabrans, referring to the three Indian Ocean giant tortoises who had been brought here by the Bush Brothers, following the Tsunami of 2004.  So, the two rolled the beach ball back and forth,for about 30 minutes, it being Micah’s favourite pastime.  Then it was back to the salt water pool with him.  Dr. Pletenick, for his part, was busy tending a pregnant bull snake, whom he goofily referred to as Cow Snake.  Gret rolled her eyes quite frequently, on this job.

Twenty minutes after setting the sea turtle back in his safe haven, Gret was sitting out on the deck, relaxing with a cool iced dark roast coffee. That was one saving grace about Dr. Ross Pletenick.  He knew how to whip up a mean pot of Joe. “I think I will come back here, after the surgery”, she mused, “after taking out a pair of dice, and randomly rolling snake eyes.”  Then, she called her father, for a ride home.

 

Highway 16

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January 1, 2016, Prescott-  Yes, I know it’s still 2015, here in the American West.  It’s New Year’s Day in Rouen, France, one of my ancestral homes.  It’s also 2016 in: Silesia, Poland; Bremen, Germany; and Tours, France- three of my other ancestral homes.  In 5 1/2 hours, the New Year will come to Old Town, Maine, where my Native American relatives still live.  I am starting to beat a dead horse.

I will use the road motif for this year’s posts, much as the Road took me to age 65.  Highways indicate assertiveness, clear vision and moving out with a purpose.  So I intend 2016 to be.

I came back to Home Base, yesterday, to find I have a financial issue to settle, and will tend to it next week.  In the meantime, bills and rent will get paid and I was, thankfully, able to fulfill a promise I made, last week, to help a sick friend.  My nest egg isn’t growing right now, but neither is anyone else’s, in Wall Street’s mad rush to sell anything that’s not nailed down.  My nest egg IS nailed , though, so the bears can just go back into hibernation.

Meanwhile, I am not hibernating.  The next three days will see me on one trail or another, as we enjoy crisp, clear weather.  The schools will be back in session next week, and I will be ready for whoever needs my services.  The certification process will take a bit longer- ADE doesn’t save transcripts, so those need to be re-sent, and my long-ago teaching internship host will need to verify that I did complete “practice teaching”- in Fall, 1975.  So, I see that process being successfully completed by the end of January.

My essential oils have benefited me, health-wise, and I will be at three conferences, this year, that focus on their promulgation.  This month, and June will find me in Boulder and September features an International Convention in Salt Lake City.

Travel in the summer will depend on how well I do, work-wise, this winter and spring.  A week or so in Reno/Tahoe, at the end of May, is a given.  Anything beyond that, though, remains to be seen.  In any case, the focus will be on time with friends, not on “Here’s Gary at yet another fabulous site!”  I never want the latter to be how all this is viewed.

Reading is still huge for me, and with the Kindle, an excellent library system and three nearby book shops, I will never run short of material. I am currently engrossed in “The Witches:  Salem, 1692”, Dick Van Dyke’s “Keep Moving”, “Terra in Cognita”, by a fellow Baha’i:  William Barnes, “Extreme Ownership”, and “The Dinosaur Heresies”.  My tack is to read at least ten pages of a book, then go to one of the others, and so on.

This year marks the Centenary of ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s initial offerings of “Tablets of the Divine Plan”.  I will have much more to say about this remarkable set of documents, during the course of the year.  Suffice it so say that, without the guidance I have received as a Baha’i, the person some in my family remember from long ago, and still think they see, would still be stumbling around- and I would not be blogging, to say the least.

This year also marks the Centenary of the National Park Service.  I will visit several National Park holdings in Arizona, and around the Southwest, in the course of this year.  Most certainly, my boots will meet some trails of the Grand Canyon, and Canyon de Chelly, for the first time in 18 years.

Most importantly, though, is WHO I am going to be in these next twelve months.  That will never be defined by anyone but yours truly.  To say otherwise would be to invite chaos.  Some, not far from here, want me to move nearer to them.  That is not happening.  Others would rather I stay as far away from them as possible.  So be it.  Any given decision could be resolved in at least seventy different ways.  The factors, for me, are these:  Service to those in need, especially children and youth; my own family’s well-being; my ability to fend for myself (I am not presently, nor will I be, a burden on anyone else); and, lastly, the overall circumstances of the world-at-large.

Happy 2016, one and all!

 

Adventine Hope

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December 12-13, Prescott- It seemed this weekend saw no end to meetings and gatherings.  Saturday dawned with the placing of wreaths on most of the grave sites at Prescott National Cemetery.  The event was part of Wreaths Across America, in which I have participated for the past four years, in honour of my late Uncle Carl, who was intensely active in Wreaths, when it first started, and remained so until his passing in 2010.  Snow made it interesting, but we’ve had a white ground cover every year, except last year.  The children who participate are a major reason for its success.

Yesterday afternoon, we Prescott Baha’is had our Spiritual Feast, a worship service held every nineteen calendar days, or so, which features devotions, consultation about the business of the community and a social gathering.  We have a good rapport with each other and the home-based gatherings add to a family feeling.

In the evening, I joined the staff of Mingus Springs, for their Christmas party, also held in a spacious home, with a lovely view of the valley below.  Exquisite food, raucous camaraderie and intelligent conversation on a variety of topics lit up the four hours we had together.  The party games were both wholesome and spirited-one involving a question and answer competition between two teams, and the other an unravel-the-ball-of-tape, which involved rolling a pair of dice, and getting a chance to peel back on one of two taped balls, which had small treats inside.  Rolling doubles was required, in order to have at the ball.  It got quite energetic, when two people rolled doubles at the same time, and we were down to one taped ball.  The evening ended with the usual White Elephant gifting.  I came away with Ben Goode’s “857 Habits of Annoying People”.  I’ve seen some his other books in various truck stop diners in the Southwest.

This morning, after such a frenetic day, saw me get up a bit more hesitantly than usual.  I got it together for a short meeting, first thing this morning, then went to a Legion gathering to honour one of our members who is going to California for a while.  Of course, there was yet another full buffet. The cooks of Yavapai County do supreme justice to our community meals!  Somehow, I am not packing on the weight, but it sure is fun being part of things.

Now I am just enjoying the quiet of my little place.  Someone asked me, last night, if I found it lonesome since my wife passed on.  There are such times, but in the presence of so many loving friends, I haven’t found them to be all that frequent.  Besides, she is taking good care of me, from the place beyond the veil.

I called my replacement teacher, this evening, and will meet with her, at the end of December.  In the meantime, the kids and I will finish up our quarterly business, and I will tie up loose ends, before heading off to Boston, at the end of the week.

Giving Tuesday

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December 1, 2015, Chino Valley-  I received exactly 156 requests for money today.  Mot of them were online.  I gave modest amounts to three charities.  That the Solicitation Industry is alive and well is more than a cliche.  Need is great, and I have to figure out a meaningful way to help some destitute friends, yet, before the month gets too old.  Said friends are across the country, and anything I do for them will only be a token, but so be it.

There have been times when I looked homelessness and extreme cold in the face, and got through it, with help from both stranger and friend, as well as through my own resources.  Institutionalized help does do a lot of good, but there is always the Administrative factor, which includes salaries for the staff.  I would strongly advise http://www.charitynavigator.org, in that regard.

It has been quite cold here, the past three days, and my Nissan complained mightily this evening, before starting up and getting me to a friend’s house, for a short visit.  Yes, my car could take a considerable chunk of my resources, yet.  That is something we all have faced, from time to time.  I may have to get an old blanket to put over the engine at night, on days to come, just as my father did a few times, in the New England Decembers and Januaries of old.

Thus has the final month of 2015, and my first full month of 65, begun.

The Road to 65, Mile 296: Where I Stand, Part 2

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September 19, 2015, Prescott-  For the next several posts, I will be centering my comments on 16 principles, developed by Four Worlds International Institute, in Surrey, BC.  It is led by a man for whom I have a lot of respect:  Hereditary Chief Phil Lane, Jr., of the Blackfoot Nation.  All quotes herein are from the document, The Fourth Way:  An Indigenous Contribution to Building Sustainable and  Harmonious Prosperity in the Americas, Update, October 2008.

Nobody asked me to do this, but I share both genetic memories and spiritual values with the Aboriginal Peoples of the Americas, specifically with the Penobscot Nation, of central Maine.  There is no barrier between us, except those that people choose to put between each other.  So, let me begin.

Principle 1: “Human Beings Can Transform Their Worlds. The web of our relationships with others and the natural world, which has given rise to the problems we face as a human family, can be changed.” –  

The author, savant and change agent, Star Hawk, has written that, for Man to regard himself as divorced from nature, is an arrogant mindset.  In fact, we in our physical state are very much connected to the rest of Nature.  It’s pretty much a given, to me, that each and every thing we do in this life is a matter of choice.  Some choices are more difficult than others, but they still need to be made.  So, with regard to relationships with others, we can choose to respond to people, or to ignore them.  I have found that I can only ignore those who irritate or are disagreeable to me for just so long, before one or the other of us presses for a resolution. The converse is also true.

How much more is this true, with regard to nature.  One can, in the name of stockholder profits, order the spewing of poisons into the atmosphere, water and soil, for just so long, before the toxins find their way into the Web of Life- with cancer, dementia and neurological ills becoming pandemic.  One may, in the name of Science, release Genetically-Modified Organisms into the food chain, while demanding that the rest of the planet toe your line, or face crippling litigation.  Then, because living things are just not ready to digest your products and therefore, in the case of humans, RESIST purchasing them or, in the case of scavenging rodents, birds and insects, just IGNORE the stuff, you redouble your efforts, getting shills to write articles that ridicule those who won’t buy GMO’s, and prodding normally thoughtful, even-minded people to jump in the fray and try to analyze the case against your products, with a view towards “talking some sense into those who would starve humanity, for the sake of romanticism.”  Still, the illnesses, and the wreckage, pile up.

My plans, with regard to relationships, are these:

  1.  Accept all offers of friendship, unless and until such offers prove to be based on ulterior motives.
  2. Respect those, online and in real time, who indicate they wish me to not contact them, either for a time, or permanently.
  3. Be a trustworthy person, more than I have been towards some people in the past.
  4. Listen, listen, and listen some more.
  5. Own the mistakes I have made with people, and do better by them , and others.

My plans, with respect to Nature, are these:

1. Tend the seeds I have planted, in my back yard.

2.  Honour animal and plant life, wherever I encounter them.

3.  By all means, continue hiking and other acts of personal exploration, both in my home area and          further afield.

4.  Carry a trash bag in my pack, so that the unwarranted intrusion of the thoughtless may be mitigated.

5.  Recycle, as much as possible, while recognizing that not everyone regards this practice as truly beneficial to the Planet.

I have gone on longer than usual, but these matters are very basic to my human and natural states of being.

The Road to 65, Mile 291: Pending

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September 14, 2015, Prescott- First, my apologies to friendly readers- Heath Muchena, JoEllen Coney, Starman Jones, Richie Salgado and Michel Fauquet.  I found your lovely comments in my Pending file, which has been ignored even longer than my Flickr site.  I have cleaned it up and approved all of your comments.

I am sad to hear that another Xanga friend, Sister Mae, has died.  She was a rock-solid friend, when I was on the old network.  I hadn’t heard from her, on Xanga 2.0.  Now, I know why.

My new position is three weeks away.  I worked today on a one-day post and will do the same tomorrow. There ought to be several other posts, this week and next, in the run-up to Fall Break, which will see me enjoying a bit of the high country.  I haven’t decided exactly where,yet, but I know it’ll be in-state.

Choices, we make and choices we own.  In accepting the charter school position, I had to decline a Red Cross post.  I think that position will go to someone who has actually worked in Social Services.  Several other changes, vis-a-vis my weekday schedule, will come about, after October 12.  I own those, also.

My erstwhile tendency to walk off and leave things hanging came to me in a dream, last light, with Penny warning me that this is a feature of mine that I should relegate to the past.  Yes, I have made a world of progress, in that respect.  Focus is improving, day by day.

Someone commented this afternoon, that I have “bedroom eyes”.  Yikes!  I thought we had left that term in the scrapheap of shallowness.  Since this person is not within my age-range, I will take it as a misguided compliment, and leave it at that.

It is nice to be appreciated, and it is nice to have a few things- pending.

The Road to 65, Mile 290: The Soup of Good Fortune

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September 13, 2015, Prescott-   I spent three hours today, in one of the most worthwhile of endeavours.  The Empty Bowls Project is an annual event in Prescott, on Courthouse Square, where so many of our great community events take place.  I was given the job of Gazpacho Ladeler.  Each of us ladelers gave a contributing patron 6 oz. of soup in either a ceramic bowl, which they had purchased, or in a free Styrofoam bowl.  Patrons could come back for second helpings, so one or two of the more popular soups (i.e. lobster bisque) ran out.

Various restaurants in Prescott and nearby Prescott Valley sent a plenitude of soups, most of them hot.  The gazpacho seemed to be the only one that wasn’t.  Even so, there was just about a bowl left over, when we stopped at 2:10, and the chef came to get her materials. My tangible reward for this effort was two 16 oz. cups of soup, one minestrone and one coconut cauliflower curry.  Far greater, of course, is knowing that a substantial amount of money was raised for the benefit of local food banks.

I went back to the house afterward, and finished reading “Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior”, which recounts Dan Millman’s experiences, whilst on Oahu and Molokai.  I sat, totally concentrating on the last fifty pages of the book, and journeyed with him through various dimensions and states of mind.  He did not use hallucinogens, and I can identify with that, since my own mind can make its way to worlds that hardly make sense, in a tangible context.  This afternoon, I only followed his lead.

After my reading was finished, I was given the message to prepare a certain soup of my own.  I first peeled the rind off a butternut squash, after cleaning out its seeds and slicing off the ends.  Then, I did the same with an eggplant and a red pepper, adding lean ground beef and a few figs, with various seasonings.  Turmeric was put in there, for some reason.  I don’t usually add it to a vegetable soup, but there it was.

The scraps and seeds were then buried in the backyard, in an impromptu garden plot.  I’ve never heard of planting so close to Fall, but that was the message I got- and well, trust the journey.  We’ll see what transpires.

I will regard the resulting concoction as a soup of good fortune- celebrating what appear to be doors opening for me, even as a door of friendship, of two years’ duration, seems to be closing.  Everything happens in its time.

The Road to 65, Mile 269: Honour

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August 24, 2015, Chino Valley- I will be working here, in a small Middle School class, from now to Thursday.  Today, a school-wide assembly focused on self-worth and standing up to bullying and intimidation.

I spent some time, in each class, aside from the assembly, getting kids to talk about their individual talents.  Some have “none”- a sublime fallacy.  I must say, though, that when I was their age, I would have said the same thing.  Honouring oneself is a long-term process, but need it be so?

I have a soft place in my heart for teens who feel downtrodden, or beaten down.  This is the time of life when people need special encouragement to stand up for themselves, albeit in a way that is not embarrassing or ostentatious.  There are no uglies in this forest.

The Assembly did a good job of explaining this to the students- and further making the point that a person who follows his or her finer passions, can never be bowled over by the vicissitudes of life.  Several proactive and hard-working teens were shown as examples of how to rise above some very challenging life situations, none of which were of their own making.

One young lady became an archer; another overcame a “lack of talent” in running, and has mastered that skill; a young man, who is very short, became a fine golfer; another young man established several community efforts to help homeless teens.

The students who watched all this, can each overcome their own challenges.  This, as much as anything else, keeps me working in the schools, rather than in retail or in an office, somewhere.  I have a drive, to build honour in yet another rising generation.

UPDATE:  My place, for the foreseeable future, is here in the West.  I spoke with a family member who has his finger on the pulse of things back in Massachusetts.  He reassured me that visiting Mom is a good thing; but it is not necessary for me to move back there, on her behalf.  So, in the interests of being helpful, in the real sense of the word, I stay the course.  I appreciate all the support that various friends and family have offered.  I’ll still visit there, over the holidays, but then it will be right back here to AZ.

The Road to 65, Mile 257: Desert Wildfire, Day 3

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August 12, 2015, Mohave Valley-  Wherever there are unicorns, there are also dragons.  Where there is joy, sorrow and rage are not far away. Light is accompanied by shadow. I prefer, I insist, that the former will outlast the latter, because that’s how life goes on.

The fire has been reduced to hot spots, which are being monitored, 24/7, by a very capable local fire department.  As always happens in a community that prides itself on independence, there is gratitude towards the local first responders, and grumbling towards the Federal presence, in this case, the Bureau of Land Management.  A government that seems distant, both physically and ideologically, is an easy target, and so it has been here.  The perception, among many who have come by for food, clothing and comfort is that the Feds didn’t seem to care about them, or about their property.  The Gold King mine mishap is thrown in, for good measure, as “eventually, that stuff will find its way down here, en route to the Gulf of California.”

It’s hard for people who are themselves overwhelmed, to see the situations of others- no matter which rung of the ladder we occupy.  I was fortunate to have been raised by parents who instilled the viewing of the situation of the other, in me.  Being the oldest of five made it more urgent.

Having to deal with the local bete noire, yesterday, put this whole concept to the test.  I went through six months, last winter and spring, of being patient and forbearing with someone whom nobody else seemed to want.  These folks are sent to us by a Creator Who desires only to see our full potentials realized.  This, I understand; it was just that, at the end of a long day in the heat, I had trouble waiting for a well-rested, fastidious case worker to complete the process with a needy, isolated and very edgy outcast.  I went back to the truck, turned on the A/C, and saved myself, while keeping the window cracked open enough to hear what was going on.  She completed the matter, thirty minutes later, and the four of us left the man, who felt more accepted, and headed home.  I guess this is one of the lessons that Christ meant to impart, when He worked on Lazarus, and on Mary Magdalene.

There are issues in any community, on any given street, and within any household which has more than one occupant.  In the Fire This Time, we, as a team, did well by the town of Mohave Valley.  After a day largely spent cleaning the gym floor of the temporarily closed Mohave Valley Elementary School, three of us volunteers headed home.  As we left town, a swirl of burned-out desert dust rose high in the air, causing our Team Lead to call in a “possible re-sparked fire”.  It turned out to be just a dust devil, with burned material, almost giving us a farewell, of sorts.

We stopped up the road apiece, at Westside Lilo’s, a homey, relaxed German restaurant, in Seligman, and decompressed with some fine sandwiches, served by an engaging and spirited young woman.  I always enjoy a good bratwurst, and a pretty smile.  The rain, which our driver had feared, seems to have preceded us, and it was an easy drive back to Prescott.

Goodnight, and it looks like tomorrow will be a bit of a respite, before the next big thing.