High Honours

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December 6, 2025- I was blessed with an extra helper today, at the Farmers Market breakdown: A National Honor Society member, who proved to be a self-starter and did about half the workload, without missing a beat. This is a one-off, but I told management that I think it would be a good idea to reach out to the high school, for assistance from Future Farmers of America and Junior Achievement, both of whom have chapters there.

I only have one weekend left in Prescott, after this one, so it is of concern to me that the groups I have been helping are covered, going forward. There is a lot of youthful energy in this town, and in this area. I have watched the children of several friends here, grow from infancy to pre-teenhood. Others, who were students of mine when I first came here, in 2000, are now among the leadership in the community, and the Classes of 2011, onward have proven equally talent-laden.

I was asked tonight, at another gathering, how I felt the youth were doing, relative to our generation. There are lots of forces that are exerting a downward pressure on the rising generations; but that has always been the case. Advances in technology make these seem worse, especially to older folks who might not be well-versed in said advances. Human nature, though, is still the same. Young people will take some of the changes into their cultural framework, and resist or roll back others. I have spoken with a cross section of youth, in recent weeks. There are both conservatives and liberals in Generation Z and Generation Alpha, as there have been throughout the course of human history. Both groups have a concern for individuals maintaining health and adhering to a moral framework. With individual responsibility increasing, there is also more of a tolerance among the younger generations for engaging with those whose viewpoints are different.

This trend, to me, is of great importance. High honours redound to the person who is willing to look beyond own perspective. No one has a corner on the truth.

The Road to Diamond, Day 353: Culinary

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November 15, 2025- Bean gorditas, topped with Korean radish and cilantro, may not sound like much, in terms of preparation. Here, though, is what we had to do to keep up with a surprisingly heavy demand, over 1 1/2 hours: First, the dough had to be rolled into balls, then flattened into a thin cake, using my index and middle fingers. Then, the cakes were delivered, three or four at a time, to the grill cook. Second, I sliced radish pieces, thinly, using a slivering knife and cut the thin slices in small slivers, bringing to the sous chef as quickly as possible. The cilantro would have been sliced into slivers, as well, but we ran out, before time was up.

I am fair to middling, in terms of actual fine culinary skill. I can prepare well-liked lasagna or meatloaf, a fresh Caesar or fusion salad,tender steaks and so/so chili. My Thanksgiving dinners have gone over well, except for one near disaster, in 1998 ( a year that was full of disasters). This time, though, my hand was steady on the slivering knife’s top and I kept up with the demand. We ended with a bit left over, which went to the Farmers Market staff.

All in all, helping with food preparation, especially under the eye of an accomplished chef, is a fine way to gauge one’s mental and physical acuity. I kept up, and was able to monitor and adjust my work, according to chef’s critiquing. We have worked well together over twelve years, so today came as no surprise.

The Road to Diamond, Day 240: Retro Vibes

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July 26,2025- There was a consensus among the staff at Farmers Market, this afternoon-The energy today was quite strange. Those who are astrologically inclined put the blame on the retrograde of Planet Mercury. A planetary retrograde is the seeming movement of the orb away from the other planets in the solar system. It is said to bring those influenced by it, back over old ground or unresolved past issues.

I can only say there were a few moments today, when I was feeling a bit of tension-mainly within my own space. At those points, I just stood still and told self to get a grip. It was not going to be a day of being irritated with people, who were just going about their day-even if it seemed that too many were in the same space at once. It worked, and taking my time with several small tasks, one at a time, helped me keep the peace.

Towards the end of my work at the Market, a disabled veteran came along and offered to help. I was absolutely glad to have his assistance and it seemed to make his day. Too many people are made to feel like they don’t matter. I won’t be one of those who stokes that sad fire. My father taught us that everyone has a place in the world, and no one ought to be made to feel worthless. I hope I have made that clear to those who have crossed my path, over the years.

This evening was spent enjoying the music of The Dust Ups, a classic country and surfer music band, out of Tempe. They brought back memories of songs by Dick Dale, the Surfaris, Bob Wills and Don Gibson. Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash and Mexico’s Consuelo Vazquez were represented. (The trio is not to be confused with the four man New Jersey band, The Dust-ups, who also offer country fare). I liked their arrangements and end the day glad that there were no dust ups here, even with the strange energy earlier.

The Road to Diamond, Day 233: The Raven Feather

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July 19, 2025- The feather lay on the asphalt, as I left Sportage and went towards Rafter 11, this evening. Remembering the significance, to First Nations people, of a feather lying on the ground, I glanced back and saw that the wind was carrying it towards the edge of the lot. Figuring it would not be run over and therefore safe, I went across the road to indulge in some hummus with pita and vegetable sticks and to enjoy a cover artist’s collection of country and folk rock tunes. Once I took my seat, glancing down, I saw the same feather that had been across in the parking lot. The breeze had picked up during the time it had taken me to cross the street and get situated, so this did not surprise me.

Dineh, Hopi, Apache (Inde) and other First Nations peoples regard a feather on the ground as a gift from the sky, establishing a connection between the receiver and the bird from which the feather came, by extension another link to the Creator. We live in a time when there is an increasingly tenuous connection between Man and the Nature of which he is a part. I have been in various natural settings, from sandy desert to deciduous urban parks; from Ponderosa and Douglas fir forests to high grasslands and desolate peat bogs; from the middle of the ocean to a Vietnamese rain forest. In each, there is a sign of nature.

Usually, that is something like a heart-shaped rock, of which I have encountered many. So have thousands of other people who are observant. Many of us have also seen animals that appear real, only to not be visible in a photograph, when they were present in the view finder, even as the shutter was pressed. I have been gifted with bird feathers by First Nations friends, over the years, and have carefully placed them in a web, attached to a dowsing stick that was given me by a Dineh friend, twenty years ago. The stick itself has two falcon feathers and a wild turkey feather attached. I also have an eagle feather that was given me by another Dineh friend, and which is attached to a wicker heart that Penny devised, in the early 2000s. I placed the raven feather opposite and slightly underneath the eagle feather.

Whilst sitting and enjoying hummus and strumming, I placed the raven feather in a planter next to my table. I found myself considering the matter of Labor Day weekend, six weeks away. I recently received an invitation to attend a Baha’i school in Colorado Springs. Having attended it three times in the past, it was on my mind this evening. With spiritual energy that I can only sense as coming from the feather, I pondered what is happening here at Home Base I, that weekend. I was reminded that my friends at Farmers Market will be busy preparing for the Farm-to-Table Dinner, a week later and that there may be only three of us who can work the market breakdown on August 30. I was also reminded, earlier this afternoon, that a Peace Day will likely take place on August 31. Then, too, after the Farm to Table Dinner, it’ll be off to Europe, and possibly east Africa ( safety permitting), during September and October.

At the risk of overthinking, I am staying put here, over Labor Day. I love the eastern Colorado friends and will pray fervently for their school’s success. I love the friends here, too.

The Road to Diamond, Day 212: Volunteer Shoots

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June 28, 2025- The young lady was hesitant at first, picking up a few signs and long traffic cones that were light of weight. I didn’t say anything, figuring she may have back problems or other issues. The fact that she was even there at the Market and was proactive was a boost in itself. Any help I get, especially in the heat, is more than welcome. After seeing this old man lift the tent weights and other items, she decided that she could lift them also. That warmed the heart of the market manager, who had recruited her, a few weeks ago. It is always a joy to see someone display more self-confidence.

When gardening, it is exciting to see plants that had not been intentionally sown spring up and often reveal a mix of species, a hybrid. Purists are bothered by this, but the hybrid has a purpose. It may be more nutritious; more disease-resistant and more suited to changing climate.

New arrivals in an enterprise, in a community, in a nation often bother purists. They have a purpose, however. In the activities in which I have been volunteering, for five years or more, others are showing up, to lend a hand. From the Farmers Market, the Red Cross and Bellemont Baha’i School, to Slow Food and the American Legion, there will be no loss of mission because new faces are taking on the challenge. I will be going on to another calling, towards the end of this year. It will take up the lion’s share of my time, and that is a blessed thing.

The same is true of those who are arising to take on leadership roles, at the community and national levels. Their ideas may not be those espoused by the established order or those ideas to which many have become accustomed, but they may be what are needed for changing times. Yes, there are constants-the virtues, like trustworthiness, honesty, integrity and industry-all based on love. Those are as likely to be found among the new arrivals as among the best of the long-time members of the community or citizens of the nation.

All deserve a hearing.

The Road to Diamond, Day 205: Ponderosas and Bluegrass

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June 21, 2025- The Howard brothers have come a long way in a year. Their quest to mix Bluegrass with jazz is an unusual path, and started off roughly. Tonight, though, as the first day of Prescott’s 44th Annual Bluegrass Festival entered its evening segment, Cross-Eyed Possum ruled the stage. Their performances did not sound like jazz invading the realm of Bluegrass, or Blues with Bluegrass undertones, but a perfect melding of genres. It would likely have been well-received in even the smallest Appalachian hollow or Piedmont barn dance.

I sat in on their outdoor set, this evening. It had been a full day-taking the preliminary steps to form a Red Cross team that would respond to a wildfire on the Navajo Nation, should it threaten residential areas; helping the Farmers Market crew to break down and put equipment away (as is usual on a Saturday afternoon in Prescott); attending an appreciation dinner for Farmers Market staff, Board Members, and volunteers. I have been a market site volunteer for seven years now, yet it was a revelation that there are 453 people who assist the Market, in various ways-from staffing the compost yard to filling or delivering food boxes to the less fortunate of western Yavapai County. There is so much that goes into any given relief effort.

As we adults enjoyed delicious shredded chicken or vegan tacos, three small boys reveled in the nearby Ponderosa forest, where they gathered fallen branches and twigs, fashioning a fort-bringing back memories of the tree fort that was built in my childhood neighbourhood. It was a great joy to see that children have not lost the thrill of building and discovery. Of course, their parents and grandparents could see them, the entire time they were in the woods. Basically, though, the boys were free to do what they wanted, in that small section of forest, in between nibbles of dinner.

It is always special to mingle with crew mates and get to know their spouses, parents and children. Some of the kids I have known since they were infants and toddlers. They are now in middle childhood, with all the bravado that comes with being 7, 8 and 9. Our intrepid generation was of course there in force. It seems Boomers just intend to make the best use of time- I am but one of thousands, nationwide, and our many hands make much lighter work.

The Howards sing alternately of country joy, favourite animals and heartache, all the stuff of just about any folk or heartland music-as well as of Blues. Here they are, with ” Whipping Post”.

The Road to Diamond, Day 191: Staying Dry

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June 7, 2025- I did not immerse myself in the swimming pool at a Red Cross colleague’s gathering, this evening. The main issue was the blazing sun-which I have pledged to avoid directly, as much as possible, in situations where sunscreen is not permitted. The compound does not mix well in swimming pools, though some protection is certainly needed.

It was, overall, a lovely event, with uplifting conversations and great food, including one of the best home-made hamburgers I’ve had in the last thirty years. It was a fine cap to a busy, but satisfying day. Helping the Farmers Market set-up crew, with the last parts of their work, early this morning, got things rolling in the right direction. I went, a few hours later, to a Baha’i session, where a delegate to our National Convention, in April, presented the highlights of his visit. I will have more to say on some aspects of that gathering, periodically throughout the summer.

Baha’ullah refers to “being dry in the ocean”. This generally means to not be unduly affected by the changes and chances of this world, while working to keep self and others safe and focused on what matters. I can most closely adhere to this by taking stock of my actions, day by day-and paying close attention to the words and sentiments of my loved ones. There is no need to change, willy-nilly, in the face of anyone’s demands, but one must be fair and unselfish.

I was glad to have been able to pace myself and accomplish all that was presented throughout the day-and to feel the support of the Divine.

The Road to Diamond, Day 126: Reset

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April 3, 2025- The bandage that was placed on my left facial cheek, to stay there for 48 hours, is still there. It will come off tomorrow and a short period of going about with a sutured face will continue until next Wednesday. Then the true healing, the reset of sorts, will begin.

On Monday, I will pick up my two guests from the Philippines, at their home-stay in Las Vegas, and bring them to Arizona for 6-7 days. We will enjoy a variety of experiences, many of them in natural beauty and several that will involve gatherings with friends of mine around the state. It will also be a reset of sorts.

This evening, I attended a crowded dinner meeting of Prescott Indivisible. I had more conversation with my table mates than I have had there in the past. There were also two calls for a show of hands, as to who will attend a protest march in a few days’ time. I will be working at Farmers Market, at the time of the march, so my hand did not go up. Though the door monitor glared and loudly cleared his throat, when I left early to attend another meeting, I owed neither him nor anyone else an explanation. The speaker at the gathering said it best: “None of us has a monopoly on the truth”. There is a nascent reset of attitude, among those on both sides, who have viewed others with disdain. The pain that the nation is beginning to experience will humble a good many people.

After attending an online discussion of Baha’i Teachings, I went to return to my other online sites. The browser was undergoing a reset, and so I had to re-enter a few accounts. Rebooting seems to be a part of life everywhere today.

The Road to Diamond, Day 87: Home Stretch

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February 23, 2025- “Are you having fun yet?”, asked the random man standing at a corner, as if on guard. “All night long!”, I replied, “Have a nice night”, and kept walking, as someone striking up a conversation in the dark usually wants one of two things-neither of which is good. “Good answer”, he called from behind me. Hearing no footfalls afterward, I continued on to Home Base I, at an unhurried pace.

Days and nights, in general, around here offer a consistency. One accomplishes as much as one wants, with as much, or as little, help from others as is welcomed. That is the measure of a proper Home Base. It is a village that raises children. It is a safe place for those whose only wish is to grow old in peace. It is a forum for Right and Left alike. It is the recipient of my attention, for much of the next six months, as we anticipate a particularly challenging fire season, followed by a monsoon period, the strength of which has yet to be determined.

I will have journeys during this time: Southern California (March 10-13); Nevada (March 25-30), part of which will most likely be spent with Filipino friends who plan on visiting; eastward (May 5-23), to visit with family and friends, in the Midwest, Northeast and South. The rest of the time will be spent with my teammates in Red Cross, Farmers Market, Slow Food-Prescott and my faith community. I will get in more hikes and, given the cutbacks in National Forest personnel, be more given to taking drives to monitor abandoned campsites- shovel and jerry can on hand, to put out any lingering smolders. I will be at Coffee Klatsch most Monday mornings and Soup Kitchen most Monday evenings.

Our national government is, by default, summoning more of us to focus on the well-being of our local communities, and it may be quite surprised at just how many people care deeply-and how much they care. The last time I was this focused on Home Base was in 2020, during the midst of COVID, and I had a lot of company, between here in Prescott and in Alexandria, Louisiana, (the latter due to hurricanes that didn’t care there was a pandemic afoot.)

September will bring the seal to this Home Stretch: Farm-to-Table Dinner is returning on September 6. I will be there as a volunteer, before (world conditions permitting) heading to Europe, and possibly East Africa, for the rest of September and most of October. In the meantime, my focus is as described above.

Showers

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August 3, 2024- In the process of taking down a tent this afternoon , at the Farmers Market, I got a nice, warm shower. Water collects atop nylon tents, when there is a downpour. I was reminded of that, in the process of collapsing the device. This being the desert Southwest, I was dry enough to move about again, in short order.

There have been many showers, throughout my life, but especially lately. Most prominent has been the shower of love. It hasn’t come from someone I myself love most-not yet. It has come from those here, to whom I feel close. It has come from family and friends, further afield. It has come from those I have met only recently, and from those I’ve known forever. It comes from those who know my heart.

There has been the shower of good fortune-not immense monetary wealth, but sufficient for my needs. The good fortune of having things work out as planned has been amply in evidence. The good fortune of being able to maintain my health and a schedule of meaningful activities, has come from continuing to be active and getting sufficient sleep. The good fortune of having a roof over my head and having trustworthy neighbours, who gather my mail, as needed and keep watch on Home Base, when I’m away, is priceless.

There has been the shower of mindfulness, something that was always in the shadows of my life, in bygone times, but is now front and center. Whatever I am doing is part of a plan that is fully understood, down to its smallest steps. Whatever I am doing is not interrupted by flights of fancy. Whatever I am doing is from being grounded.

Showers give me the satisfaction of knowing that whatever direction my life takes, over the next several months, I will be in a good place.