The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 17

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September 7, 2026- Neither Hana or I are working paid jobs, but we did our share around the house. Hana likes to put her own tray on the high chair-and she knows how to do it. Of course, some adult dexterity is needed to fasten it securely, but she likes to start the process. She also wants, very badly, to climb up and out of the playpen. There are no footholds, though, and we’re not providing her with any.

Labor Day, for the family, was very productive. We finally got a foundation and drywall specialist who was a straight talker and was not interested in selling us his services, on the spot. He recommended a holistic course of action, which addressed the matter of water-sucking shrubs and small trees. We had three of them removed, this afternoon.

HANA’S NOTE- I am so glad that my grownups listen to me, when I need my diaper changed. I also like getting bits of cut fruit, when they have their lunch or dinner-after I’ve had my big meal. I like being part of their gathering.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2021 Year Two of the Pandemic saw more in-person classes resume, as the danger of infection abated, somewhat. Masks and physical distancing were still big things, as were virtual meetings. Our Baha’i gatherings were still largely on Zoom, as there were too many people with compromised immune systems, and we lost one elder in the summer of 2020.

This was the year that my mother moved out of our childhood home- a place in which she had lived for 66 years. I made two journeys across country this year- first, to ascertain Mom’s state of mind, at her new place of residence and to help clean out the old house, once it had been sold. So, in May, I went back to Saugus, and spent five days helping to with the process. The road east was still COVID protocol-led, from New Mexico to Connecticut. Once in Massachusetts, things had abated somewhat, though for obvious reasons, I went into Mom’s residence masked up and wearing gloves. She made me remove my mask and gloves, when I entered her room. The place was taking care of her, to the extent she let anyone do so.

I went back to Prescott, stopping in Carmel, NY; Oley (for a home-style dinner); Bedford, PA; Terre Haute; Jefferson City, Wheatland and Lamar, MO; and Grants, NM. The COVID protocol was less stringent already.

July brought me eastward again, through Grapevine, TX, so that I could celebrate Aram’s birthday with him and Yunhee. The route then took me to the Greenwood section of Tulsa, where a mob massacred large numbers of Black people, a hundred years ago; then came Memphis, and a visit to the Museum of Civil Rights and Beale Street. In Crossville, TN, I visited with friends and hiked to Fall Creek Falls, in the rain. Harrisonburg did not have Artful Cafe, any longer, but it had Duke’s, a similar place of welcome, in the same location. I made a stopover at Oley, on the way up to Saugus. I had a fine visit with maternal cousin, John and his wife, as well as spending time with Mom and my MA siblings. In Maine, I paid respects to paternal cousin John, and his parents, now all interred in a National Cemetery in Augusta.

Going back was a northern route: Concord, NH; Albany; Du Bois, PA; Mishawaka; Wilmette; Madison and Hudson, WI; Minneapolis-St.Paul, (where I met up with a first cousin, once removed and her family; Fairmont, MN and Sioux Falls (where I made a boo-boo and needed some radiator repair, as a result). Nebraska and Colorado saw me safely back into Home Base.

Late September brought the end of Elantra. As I was headed to work, on a country road, I stopped for 5 seconds and proceeded, A landscape vehicle, going twenty miles over the speed limit, came over the hill and hit the Hyundai exactly between me and the gas tank. I was cited for not having waited 10 seconds at the stop sign. The landscaper was taken into custody. The Hyundai was replaced by a 2007 Saturn Vue, for which I paid cash. While I waited to take possession of the Saturn, whose owner was getting ready to move and just needed the vehicle until her moving date, I had a rental car, paid by the landscape company’s insurance. With that rental car, I made a trip to Chaco Culture National Historic Park and to Ghost Ranch, spending a day in each place.

In December, the Vue and I drove to Santa Fe and Taos. A Christmas visit to Santa Fe had become my self-indulgence for two years, before COVID and it seemed like a good time to jump start things. I visited the Georgia O’Keefffe Museum, having been inspired by the October visit to Ghost Ranch.

Life was becoming normal, and full, again.

The Dreamer’s Edge

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March 9, 2024- The young lady looked, for all the world, like a 1920s Flapper. The moment she began singing, though, the melodious and heartfelt voice brought the chatty audience to rapt silence. Her connecting two very different semblances and times-the Roaring Twenties and the Hesitant Expectancy of the 2020s gave me much to consider. There really isn’t a whole lot different, between the two decades that lie a century apart.

Two business-oriented politicians, Calvin Coolidge and Donald Trump, set the tone for the conduct of affairs in the country. Both believed in the power of the marketplace and in cultivating a top-down economic structure, in which commercial interests are to be the stimulators of the nation’s prosperity. Coolidge’s programs did not factor in the suffering that was still extant in Europe, after World War I and the Influenza Epidemic of 1918-19. Trump’s programs were stymied by Covid-19, and by the turmoil in underdeveloped countries, much of it fueled by the international drug trade and its accompanying violence.

In the economic crash that followed the failure of Coolidge’s policies, and those of his successor, Herbert Hoover, only a combination of progressive governmental intervention, and the outbreak of another global conflict brought about recovery on a massive scale. It took twelve years to complete. The turmoil that accompanied Trump’s efforts was not as severe, but some governmental intervention from his successor’s team has helped lower inflation and improve at least the long-term prospects for a good many people. Time will tell whether the short-term efforts of the current administration will register with the American public.

In both decades, the difficulties faced by the average person led to impatience, and a certain amount of tolerance for authoritarian rule-even among those of historically marginalized populations. Only the recognition of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s comprehensive platform for recovery, and the patriotic fervor that followed the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and the D-Day landing at Normandy, three years later, stayed the hand of ultra-conservatism. It remains to be seen how the current, palpable climate of impatience will play out, in the Fall.

The capacity of the human spirit to look beyond temporary difficulties, the dreamer’s edge, if you will, may yet temper any rush to embracing a retreat from the constitutional republic, a form of democracy. In order for that to happen, the frequent victims of reverse marginalization need to be heard, and to feel that their concerns are being addressed-by the forces of a democratic mindset. That must happen, without the zero-sum game playing out; without historically-marginalized groups being shoved, once again, back into the corners of the American Mansion.

Will the current Twenties roar, or squeak?

A Dozen Years

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August 11, 2023- On this date, in 2011, I posted a short, tentative introductory post, inaugurating this site. It was at a difficult time in life. My wife of twenty-nine years had been gone five months. I was feeling isolated from many people, and was feeling pressured by others, to do what they thought was best for me, going forward. I ended up “going dark”, for the most part, until the following January.

A dozen years later, I’m still very much here, and no longer feeling besieged, either by my own demons or by others’ expectations. So, I want to take a look back, at some of the things that I did right, during each of these years.

2011- It was an honour to help my in-laws, providing food for them, over a two-week period, when they were laid up and unable to prepare their own meals. I also re-connected with my father’s older brother, in Colorado.

2012- Some of the places that Penny and I had wanted to visit together, I was able to reach-with her spirit very close at hand: San Francisco’s Baha’i Center; the Redwoods, both coastal and interior; the Oregon Coast; the Portland Rose Gardens; Neah Bay and Cape Flattery, WA; Seattle.

2013- I was able to attend a “Sail Blind” event, in which my second-eldest brother was participating.

2014- Attended the 70th Anniversary of D-Day observance, at Utah Beach, and visited the site of my father-in-law’s World War II imprisonment,in Berga, Germany- both in his memory.

2015- Made it to southeast Alaska, which we had also hoped to visit as a couple.

2016- Overcame a lot of self-doubt and took on a job that involved helping other autistic people. With considerable help, replaced the broken-down vehicle that I had bought on the cheap, two years ago.

2017- Kept at my final full time job; had a smooth drive, to and from New England.

2018- Faced down a very powerful negative force.

2019- Survived a physical attack; made the decision to move into semi-retirement. Went to Korea and attended Aram’s and Yunhee’s wedding.

2020- Worked the floor, twice, during the height of COVID-19, at Red Cross storm shelters, in Louisiana and Texas.

2021- Drove to and from Massachusetts, twice, to assist with Mom’s move and the clearing of our former family home.

2022- Traveled to Newfoundland and Cape Breton, fulfilling another of our couple dreams. Bought a vehicle on my own, this time in a proper manner.

2023- Made a concerted effort to reduce my weight-and succeeded. Visited a few friends,in the Pacific Northwest, who had felt isolated during the long night of COVID-19. There are two long journeys, at least, left in this year. I say “at least”, because there is no telling what will be asked of any of us, by the Red Cross-with regard to Maui.

In any event, my psyche is in so much better a place, after twelve years of self-responsibility.

Freedom of Choice

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July 3, 2022, Saugus- A spirited discussion took place, on social media today, involving several members of a family in another part of the country, all of whom I love very much-regardless of their varying political views. It was said that things got out of hand, in private messages going back and forth, and I will leave that as it is. Private is private.

We are, in fits and starts, coming out of the Coronavirusdisease 2019 pandemic. Some, including friends of mine, are still getting the scourge, and hopefully their experience will be brief. Some have reported that it is horrific, and I pray for their swift recovery. My point here is, though, that after nearly two years of restriction, a sense of oppression and all manner of obfuscation, smoke and mirrors and the like, we, the People, are gingerly getting out and about. I took 2020 off from the road, and may have done so last year as well, but for the necessity of getting our family home ready to transfer to another family. (Who seem to be well-settled in, by the way.) My family and friends hereabouts are also finally getting to enjoy life again. One set of cousins is busy with cookouts, all weekend. Another couple are going off on a long-delayed journey to somewhere special. Yet a third cousin is kayaking, on a lake up yonder.

That we are exercising our freedom to travel is not a bad thing at all. There are benefits and drawbacks to travel, and one must accept both. We also have choices to make in many other areas of life. There are benefits and drawbacks to those as well. The right to do with one’s own body what you will, is sacrosanct-so long as it does not impinge on the rights of others. It is a matter of debate, at times fierce, as to whether a fetus is a human being. Some religious scholars say it is; others say humanity begins with birth. Some lay people take the first view; others, the opposite. I say, as a man, that the final, hopefully informed and measured, decision, rests with the mother-not with the courts, including that of Public Opinion, or with the Legislatures of different states, or of the nation at large.

The right to defend oneself is also sacrosanct. The Creator put us here, and it is up to the Creator as to when we leave. There is, however, nothing that says anyone has the right to end the life of another, in a random and capricious, or even intentional and malicious, spate of violence. So, I do not subscribe to the credo that says possession and use of assault weapons is a God-given right. (As I write this, six more people died at the hands of an out-of-control lunatic, in Highland Park, IL and an indeterminate number of police officers used what looks like excessive force, to end the life of a gunman, who had thrown his weapon into a car, before attempting to flee, in Akron, OH). Violence begets violence.

Every act we do in this life has benefits, and has consequences. I have learned to accept both.

Wellness Trumps Sinuses

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August 29, 2021- A brief, localized fullness was in my head, for much of the day, with none of the aches and congestion reported by those who have contracted one form of COVID or another. Yes, I am one of those who has not let up on wellness regimen, throughout this pandemic. It is the only way I can function, in all that needs to be done.

Thus, it was a blessing that the sinus headache responded well to an hour’s nap, a bowl of spicy chicken tortilla soup, being out of the desert heat and the clearing of the skies tonight, after a few bolts of dry lightning (which thankfully did not start any fires.)

I am feeling energized, also, by the elevated conversations that my friends in Lake Havasu City and I had last night and this morning. There is strength that comes from facing issues and from helping others with what they think are intractable matters. This will long have to continue. A week more, at least, lies ahead at Prescott High School, (with Friday devoted to another elementary classroom), with the days after Labor Day being something of a cipher, as yet.

There is one thing I haven’t figured out yet: How do we resolve the headaches caused by ignorant prattling? (i.e. “Creative Comrades is a Communist organization!”) The aforementioned organization is a job-search assistant, in Lake Havasu City, hardly a hotbed of Marxism.

The Trail Winds Again

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June 23, 2021, Tonopah- It’s been two years, since I last took this route, from Las Vegas towards Carson City/Reno. I see that most places survived COVID and are again thriving. A Speedway on Farm Road, on the north side of LV, will be my go-to refueling stop in the city-easy on/off US 95.

The day started with a continuation of last night’s exploration of intellect and real world problem-solving. Much was personal to one of my hosts, so the details would not be appropriate here. We did reach the consensus, over breakfast at Bad Miguel’s, on the north end of Lake Havasu City, that humans are far too prone to cover up for the team, when making a miscreant own up to mistakes is a far more forthright, and better, use of a team’s energy. It’s not throwing the wrongdoer under the bus; it is, rather, a cleansing exercise for the wrongdoer’s soul.

After bidding these gentlemen adieu, I wended my way through an hour’s worth of a series of roads, to Bullhead City, making a fairly brief, but equally necessary, visit to another isolated soul. The simple, satisfying lunch she prepared gave me a chance to note further about the value of being forthright-in no particular context. She had a Zoom call, about forty minutes into my visit, so back on the road it was- with rain as my companion, from Bullhead City to Las Vegas!

The rain and wind dissipated, along with the traffic, just past the Snow Mountain interchange, on LV’s northernmost edge. I made a customary light supper stop, at the Area 51 Alien Center, in Amargosa Valley- not far from its namesake of legend. A few families were passing through; a feisty 9-year-old boy from one was bantering with teen girls from the other family. I just fixed my hot dog and smiled at the joy of normalcy.

Beatty, Scotty’s Junction and Goldfield came and went-and I was in this center of mining heritage by 8 p.m. I turned on the tv and found- “Boss Baby”. Off went the tube.

Tomorrow will show how much the rest of the way to Carson has fared, in the time of pandemic.

Limekiln Trail, Section 3

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December 8, 2020- At long last, I got myself on track and found the trailhead from which one may walk from the far western edge of Sedona to the northern edge of Cottonwood, a distance of five miles via Limekiln Trail. It was not a particularly chanllenging trail, though I felt the effects of being housebound and Zoom-bound, for much of the past eight months. A series of 30-minute workouts at Planet Fitness keep me in a modicum of shape, but it will take the rigours of the trail, even a fairly flat trail like the Deer Pass-Bill Grey segment, to get back into a semblance of “fighting trim”.

A rumour reached me that I was likely in the presence of a COVID-positive person, last week. It happens, though, that this individual was nowhere near the school, during the days I was working there, so once again, no worries. People are so worn down, so exaperated by the pandemic, that they will often take anything they hear, and run with it, whilst inwardly trembling. I ask one and all, to step back and breathe-We will beat this challenge, by adhering to common sense rules of hygiene, and ,more importantly, of wellness.

Now, back to the trail-

Here is the eastern end of the segment, at Deer Pass. A discerning eye might notice a human face or two, in the midst of the cairn .
In order to access the trail to the west, one must use this underpass, under Highway 89 A.

The handles to the gates, on this segment, are diagonal, and after wiggling the handle out, it is then necessary to either lift the gate up, or push it down, in order to secure it again.

Most of the trail is single track, like this, though some of the hike involved walking on US Forest Service roads.
One of the Forest Service roads that serve as connectors.
Igneous rock, deposited by volcanic eruptions, further afield, hundreds of thousands of years ago, make the long hike through the Sheepshead Mountain/Canyon sector, all the more fascinating.
This is the remnant of what was likely a miner’s camp, atop Sheepshead Mountain.
This is another marker of a miner’s camp, also long-abandoned.
Here is the top of Sheepshead Mountain’s west ridge. The summit, east of the trail, is fairly lush.
Sage brush has its own fall colours, which arrive on the scene when deciduous trees have long since turned a ghastly gray.
So, too, does Prickly Pear Cactus, especially at higher elevations, offer its fall colours.
Crossings of dry creekbeds and washes abound on this sector of the trail. There are Spring Creek, Sheepshead Creek-and Coffee Creek, which was also a favoured gathering place for miners, in the early Twentieth Century.

So, a long-standing itch in my saddle got scratched. I re-found the junction of Limekiln and Bill Grey Road, which had gotten lost in my mind, for several months.

Bill Grey Road, at its junction with Limekiln Trail.

The remaining sector of Limekiln runs from Deer Pass to Red Rock State Park, further in towards Sedona. It is a distance of seven miles, one way, so I would likely either start early in the morning or would camp overnight at Red Rock. Either way, it’s likely to wait for March or April, with a smidgen more daylight. There are a few other trails in our area that await, and which present shorter distances, out and back.

Sudden Shifts

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December 2, 2020- As the time for my retirement (more or less) gets closer, there is still no end to the surprises and shifts that continue in the conduct of public education. I no sooner was told my scheduled assignment for today had been canceled, than I got a call for three days-thus taking me through this week.

The next surprise: Friday will most likely be my last day of work for the calendar year. This is due to the school districts going online again, beginning Monday. I am strictly an in-person educator, as far as public schools are concerned. I helped a few children when attempting online instruction, but it was tough, which is likely one reason why the previous assignment was canceled-as online instruction was part of it.

This will prompt a re-assessment of my schedule for the next two weeks, but change is a constant. There is always a lot to do. For tomorrow and Friday, my young charges are glad that I came back. They are not thrilled about going back to online learning, so I hope that streaming technology, at least, can make things vivid for them. The chances of them going back to in-person learning, in January, will depend on COVID levels at that time. I will be taking on only special assignments, in the new calendar year, in any event.

Staying personally disciplined is, and will be, the only thing that will keep me standing-regardless of the swiftness or degree of changes. So, it will remain- Rise early, keep serving and stay steadfast in both exercise and faith. That, and be discerning with regard to the claims to reality, of disparate groups.

Limits

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November 20, 2020-

I cut off all contact with an online magazine today, after about four months of reading sometimes disingenuous articles and abiding others that are perilously naive in their pronouncements.

Over these many years, some have told me that I have the patience of Job. This is largely true, when I am dealing with children or teenagers, and see that they are not hiding behind cunning or willful deceit. Some people just need what seems like forever to make changes. I know that it was true of me, so to penalize another soul for what I did wrong, seems worse than callow.

This was a day of turning aside from those who persist in deflecting attention from the legal maneuvers being conducted, relative to a recent election, by pointing to supposed crimes committed by someone who can barely get out of his own way. It was a day of leaving an online session which was degenerating into pointless argument. It was a day of me telling myself that I am going to limit my presence on Zoom still further, with only my promised hosted sessions, and a handful of others, keeping me tied to the chair, laptop and neck pillow. One could easily become a permanent resident of The Chair and Screen.

Maybe I am showing my age, but I have no time for the trivial and nitpicky-and even less use for those who are still harping about Barack Obama-or Ronald Reagan, for that matter. There are huge issues to be faced, which can ONLY be faced, and resolved, by a unified front. One would think that COVID-19 would have made that very clear, but no-it may take a whole lot more to bring the bickering fringes to a place of sensibility. When that happens, I’ll be hard at work on solutions-just give me a call, or even a Ping.

As for my critics, I have taken advice, from friend and foe alike, about cybersecurity-adding several passwords, facial recognition and two-step verification. I have some more work to do, in that regard. I am not, however, going to devote any attention to self-absorbed narcissists, nor do I care one iota about what Rudy Giuliani thinks that Hunter Biden did. Both are dysfunctional people, in need of help.

Keep the eyes front and center, people.

With These Blessings,….

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November 9, 2020-

I sat here at my combination laptop table/gratitude altar, during the second of three Zoom meetings, this evening, and marveled at how my week’s schedule has evolved. Four work assignments have presented themselves- today being a short three-hour session with intermediate schoolers, whose classmates in the hybrid set-up will be my charges, tomorrow.

Thursday will be an early start day, with small groups of reading enrichment students, at the primary level. Friday, I will be with a class of first graders. Earlier this season, my plan for the end of this week was to head up to Painted Desert/Petrified Forest. Then came a second wave of COVID-19 which, while not dissuading me from the journey, did create a teacher shortage. Thus, my personal time is a weekend affair. Whether I head up that way, for a shorter time, will be determined later in the week.

There are many blessings that come in the guise of trouble. For me, being with children of any age is high on that list. COVID is the trouble and they are the blessings. Being able to visit friends in Sedona on Friday evening, then go no further than Homolovi State Park on Saturday, and being back for my weekly devotional on Sunday, would be a perfect weekend alternative.

Wednesday is Veteran’s Day, Armistice Day and the auspicious 11/11. The blessings of a midweek holiday come not only in the respect shown us as military veterans or in the free or discounted meals, but in the awareness that something I did, as part of a larger effort, made a big difference.

I am feeling blessed to live among people who can see the forest for the trees, and don’t altogether get rattled. If there is illness, momentary discomfort or a bit of inconvenience, there is a roadmap to getting past those things, and more of us are aware of this, than not.

The last few weeks of being a sixty-something are shaping up to be ever more filled with bounties.