September 8, 2025, Calgary-

The teen girl got up from her middle seat, so I could take my spot by the window. A middle-aged gentleman took the aisle seat, a few minutes later.

At that point, she seemed to freeze, then donned a pair of sunglasses, put up her hair and pulled her hoodie, insuring privacy I gave her space,for the duration of the flight.

It can‘t be easy for a young woman in a middle seat, wedged between two strange men, no matter how civil and friendly they may be.

I just give everyone grace, where they are. Lord knows, several people gave me grace, after my boarding pass fell out of my pocket, as I was exiting the plane from Phoenix. Until then, everything had gone well.

Now, though, I am sitting in the waiting area for my flight to Iceland. The only issue facing me when I get there is getting my laptop out of sleep mode,which is why this post is brought to you by iPhone 14.

See you on here again, in about 9 hours

June 23, 2024- Once, when I came into the house, sobbing and full of self-pity, after being on the losing end of an acorn fight, Mom gave me a damp washcloth and reassuring hug, saying these things happen in life-and somehow they don’t knock us into a hole from which there is no escape. She continued, “We can only do that to ourselves.”

Every hole into which she has been knocked, over 90 +years, has seen Lila Mae Kusch Boivin climb out, ready for the next round, and winning a good many. She has been the inspiration for each of her four adult children, and was the primary safe haven for our little brother, especially in his last eight years of life.

When I called from Fort Jackson, on a Sunday morning of self-criticism and despondence, Mom told me that there was no way I should see myself as a failure-again saying that my critics and bullies would try their best, but “You graduated from high school, and will finish this Basic Training. If you want, after the Army, go back to college-and this time, make a go of it.” That, I did, and became a point of pride for my parents.

She attended all but one of her grandchildren’s weddings- Aram’s, in South Korea, simply being too far for her nonagenarian body. He and Yunhee made tracks for her Saugus home, as soon as they got settled in Dallas. She adores all of her grandchildren, and their spouses, to say nothing of the great grandchildren. This is reciprocated, and there was no sweeter sound than to hear three of them cheering “Great Grandma!”, as she entered the wedding hall, in Philadelphia, for the wedding rehearsal of my youngest niece and her husband-to-be, six years ago, last week.

All is still, in the days before I head back to her side, at least one more time-and if God wills, I will look into her eyes on Thursday morning and repeat what I told her, late last month: “I love you always, Mom.”

February 17, 2024- The melanated jaguar responded excitedly to the sight of his keepers approaching with his chicken lunch. He leaped to his feet, trotted over to the gate, where they would, carefully and methodically, enter his enclosure. He was just barely patient enough to enter his safe inner cage, whilst a keeper hoisted the carcass of the chicken onto a dead tree and cleaned the outer enclosure. Once the humans were safely out, and all the gated locked, Notch, the jaguar, was released from his inner cage and trotted over to the tree, sniffing the air and gazing up at the chicken. He then trotted over to look at his spectators, laid down and seemingly contemplated a game plan, for getting his meal. After about eight minutes, he sprang into action, scooted up the tree, dragged the carcass down and zipped off to his lair, meal in jaws. Varying degrees of privacy ensued, but the gist was-“Folks, it’s impolite to watch someone else eating”. Notch gulped his meal down, a bit at a time. Jaguars do not taste their food, nor do they masticate it. They eat to live, rather than living to eat.

Animals in the wild are very good about standing their ground. Carnivores are up front about killing their prey, or at least scavenging the kills of others. Herbivores are equally up front about putting up a fight, to stay alive. Nature, on its own, tends towards balance.

Humans can, fairly often, go their whole lives without facing deadly challenges. We do, however, encounter challenges to our dignity, well-being and health. Those of us who live in developed nations quite often don’t even need to worry about the latter. My life, at least since I left alcohol dependency behind, has largely been on an upward psychological and spiritual progression. It gave me the strength to serve Penny as her primary caretaker, whilst at the same time helping me to get rid of old psychological baggage. A fairly brief challenge to those, from October, 2018-April, 2019 was the exception to this state of being, but I see that now as more of a “final examination” in standing my ground.

My time living in Prescott has, for the most part, been free of unpleasant individuals trying to cut me and my loved ones down. Tonight, though, I had to speak up, when someone made a cutting remark about my friend in the Philippines, whom no one here has ever met. While our relationship is in its early stages and there is no guarantee of anything, I will still not let slights and derogatory comments about this devout and honest woman go unchallenged. Neither will I let myself be put down, no matter how “prominent” or “popular” the speaker happens to be.

I chose to attend the celebratory dinner, at which the comment was made to the end, rather than leave early and rush down to Phoenix, so as to get into a dance party, towards which I contributed. It seems like this was a good thing,though, as it put those in attendance on notice, that K is off-limits to armchair detractors and xenophobes, and that I am not a doormat for their hate. One person got a calm and measured response, which he found reasonable. The other was silenced immediately, and nervously changed the subject.

Bob Marley had it right.

February 9, 2024- The air was cold, but crisp, and the sidewalks largely easy to navigate, even when there was 1-3 inches of snow covering them. Few people were out and about, even in cars. I walked to the nearest grocery store, Sprouts, and took some advantage of the BOGO (Buy One, Get One) sales, on a couple of items. Other than the faint scent of a skunk, or two, in someone’s back yard, there were no signs of life. To and from downtown, whether day or night, active or silent, still makes a nice outing. 

The streets were not too crowded this morning, either, as I drove a disabled friend and her mate to a medical facility. Double checking on a Blood Drive, at which I was to be the registrar, I found it had been canceled, again due to the icy roads which, along with the snow (2 feet, in downtown Prescott) have resulted in three straight days of school cancellations. 

We will all get back to the routine, next week, whilst enjoying the Super Bowl, Mardi Gras, and Valentine’s Day, in the process. Yes, I know those events may not be some people’s cup of tea, but I tend to enjoy the camaraderie and the ambiance of harmless fun that go along with the festivities. That said, we do owe attention and vigilance to human trafficking at the Super Bowl and during Mardi Gras, and sensitivity to those who have lost a loved one, or are otherwise alone, on Valentine’s Day. (This will be the first time in 13 years that I will be honouring someone dear to my heart, on February 14, so aloneness is quite familiar.)

Tonight, though, I was glad for the fresh air and fair amount of exercise.

September 4, 2023, North Platte, NE- The day is closing with my conducting a house fly apocalypse. Three of the four who came in with me, to this clean and well-appointed room, at North Platte Inn, have met their doom. The survivor is making its annoyance, at being alone, very much known.

I was alone, in a sense, being the only person from outside Colorado at this weekend’s conference, but no one was trying to shut me out, much less extinguish my life force. Therein lies the difference between how we view humans-and other animals that seem beneficial, versus those that are proven pests.

Indeed, we spent the morning at Colorado East Baha’i Summer School, hearing each other’s recounting of childhood trauma- of which, while I had comparatively little, was cathartic to those who did have a lot to share. One has to be very careful, even when listening quietly, to ever convey the impression that the sharer is wasting her/his time. I think that needle was threaded very carefully today.

The door to friendship at the conference never felt to me like it was more than half-open, but. given what was shared this morning, it is very clear why. Each person present did express a belief in the Oneness of Mankind, and has shown a genuine love and acceptance towards their, and others’, children-which is a huge start towards healing. For my part, it was comforting to be able to reassure those who were open to listening, that their being in the world is valuable, that they need not apologize for what they may have said or done in the past, that they themselves felt was inadequate. As I made those affirmations, it felt like I was looking in the mirror-because how often have I made the same self-criticism!

The gathering ended with an equally cathartic, all-hands-on-deck clean-up, in which everyone, from the smallest toddler to the seniors who were ambulatory, joined in making sure the camp was cleaner than we found it.

Post-conference, I made my way to the Colorado State Capitol, in mid-town Denver, and garnered photos of all four sides. Then, it was up into the Great Plains, via I-76. It was a fairly light-trafficked route, through northeast Colorado and west central Nebraska, to this town that also has something of a Western feel to it-thanks largely to its association with William Frederick Cody, “Buffalo Bill”, and the ranch that bears his name. While I will not be going over to that ranch tomorrow, as this trip is not about tourism, per se, a stop at the Golden Spike is in order.

Here are a couple of scenes from earlier today.

June 3, 2023,, Bellemont– Stories always abound, at gatherings such as this. One friend told of having recently visited a border town in Mexico, going to a restaurant further into town and finding his customary favourite dish did not quite taste the same. When he inquired, he was told that the dish was prepared across the border and trucked over.

The meals here at camp are made fresh, onsite. The chef, who I have known for forty-three years, has fed large groups, for about that long. Her meals have remained of good quality and substance-and are always well=planned ahead of time. Her eldest son, also a trained chef, was the grillmaster at lunch and turned out a fine burger feast-including vegan fare.

My role here is mainly fix-its and keeping the campers safe. The staff works well as a team and has kept my role fairly minimal. In the course of today, though, a water leak was resolved, an hour or two was spent helping in the kitchen and a visit to Parks General Store, five miles to the west, yielded another propane tank, for our gas-powered grill.

In the evening, one of the women on staff built a large bonfire, the kids enjoyed s’mores and we all sang devotional songs and prayers. I used my “Bear” drum for the first time since last September’s ill-fated event in Sedona. There was quite a difference in tone, this evening.

Things are working out well so far, and the self-confidence level is holding steady.