Honey

...the Bendix and the back door... see the design in my wallpaper? You can see also just what time it was, Honey. Even the second hand is straight up...see that little thing hanging on the wall. That is for dimes. When it gets full, I buy Defense Stamps. Does it look natural, Honey?




(sentiments written on the back of an old photograph)

When You Find It...

Among the photos that I pulled from the sleeves of the albums in that East Village antique shop is the one that appears above in my blog header. When I turned over its page the breath caught in my throat. This photograph carries an essence of deja vu that I have been here before. The eeriness of this snapshot is not so much its familiarity, but that I will return to this place again. That old woman rounding the corner is me.

I study this photo and I feel such contentment. This is my home...my life. I have finally found my place. My old friends are scattered along the streets of this little town and down long gravel lanes out in the countryside. I am surrounded by my gardens where I hill my potatoes and harvest greens for my evening meal. When the flowers are in bloom, I fill my home with colorful bouquets that scent the air and remind me every day of the beauty in my world. I relish the work that pulls me into the gardens daily and leaves my body spent when I crawl into bed every night.

Another look at this old photo tells me that I have been here for a very long time. The gardens testify to that. I seem to remember a tall fence once, but now it is gone...and this very spot was once shaded by a tree. Phlox, dahlias, and peonies thrive in this now-sunny corner of the garden. I also remember the entire property covered with lawn, but only remnant strips of grass remain. Like the one in the photo, these narrow paths run along the garden beds that now blanket this earth.

I hold my future in my hands in this old B&W photograph. I have to wonder when my present life will intersect with this future one and I find myself rounding that corner.

The Farmer Takes a Wife

I was recently in Des Moines' East Village doing research at the State Historical Library. When I finished for the day, I tromped over to my favorite antique shop Found Things and happened upon a cupboard of photograph albums full of old B&W snapshots. I pulled out several marked 'rural' and carried them over to a quiet corner where I could leisurely flip through them. I love images of old couples and I found a gold mine. Many of these photos are staged in front of the barn which relates to the importance of these old buildings on the family farm back in the day.

My favorite is the one I chose for this post....check out his pants and braces...and her shoes. I always wonder about the story behind the photograph. There is corn growing at his feet; he is leaning on some sort of implement to go after the weeds. Is this their garden, or are they standing on the edge of a larger field? Who was snapping the picture? What was happening on this day that prompted someone with a camera to take a photo of this couple? They look happy, even contented....at least at this moment in time. They are both wearing rings on the third finger of the left hand, so I am assuming they are a couple together. They are leaning in a bit...is it for the photo, or because that is what a couple does after years of living together?

His shirt pocket reveals what appears to be a writing instrument. Does he make "to do" lists as he works around the farm? When he is chasing those weeds, does he compose love poems in his head and then stop to lean on that hoe while he writes them down? Will he place these written words around their home where he knows his wife will discover them?

Maybe these love sonnets are not written for his wife, but for a long-lost love....someone who captured his heart years ago. He dreams of someday when he scribbles his thoughts, but he knows deep in his heart that the choice he made for this life was based on a woman who was right for him. This woman by his side in the photograph was the one who made him a better man. She was the one who made him believe in himself...in honesty and commitment and marriage. This woman by his side was his better choice. For better or for worse.

Bloodroot

Last week as I was scurrying through the DFW airport to catch my plane back to Iowa, I noticed an older, dapper gentleman standing by a doorway leading outside to the drop-off lanes. He was dressed to the nines...gray dress trousers, a blue blazer, and a blue pinpoint cotton shirt with tie. I also noticed his nicely-shined loafers. He carried no luggage; the lanyard around his neck displayed an official-looking logo. He waved as I passed by, and since I had forgotten to don my wristwatch, I stopped to ask the time. He grabbed my hand when I was within range and kissed my palm. He whispered the time in my ear as he pulled me close. How very strange.

OK...I had an uneasy feeling that I should get far away from this man, but his demeanor was not that of a leach, but of a tender heart who was reaching out for human contact. I would guess his age to be about 70-75. He spoke with an accent that seemed Middle Eastern. He asked where my journeys had taken me, where my home was, why the hurry....all in a gentle way that invited further conversation. He shared that he was from Israel and would be joining his son there in two months. He had been staying with a daughter, but missed his homeland and was joyous that he would be returning soon. He loved being with his family here, but his grandchildren, were "wearing out this old man!"

We had a pleasant chat, but as I turned to leave, he reached again for my hand. This time he pulled me closer and kissed my cheek. He said he wanted to send me off into the future with a full heart and loving thoughts. I thanked him and wished him well in his travels. With that, I turned and headed off to my gate wondering why he was standing in that spot on this day...was he a greeter for the airport? Was he lost? Where did he belong? Regardless of his story, I was uncomfortable that I had been suspicious of such good will.

Upon my return home, I jumped into some work that had been ignored while at the conference, but I could not stop thinking about the airport gentleman. I recounted the experience several times; I could not put it to rest. Before closing down the computer Sunday night, I tapped on Rob Brezsny's horoscope for this week and here is what I found.

Cancer Horoscope for week of April 14, 2011

Over the years I have on several occasions stood at a highway exit ramp with a handmade cardboard sign that reads, "I love to help; I need to give; please take some money." I flash a wad of bills, and offer a few dollars to drivers whose curiosity impels them to stop and engage me. I've always been surprised at how many people hesitate to accept my gift. Some assume I have a hidden agenda; others think I'm crazy. Some are even angry, and shout things like "Go home, you freak!" If a comparable experience comes your way anytime soon, Cancerian, I urge you to lower your suspicions. Consider the possibility that a blessing is being offered to you with no strings attached.

Now I better understood that it was OK to just accept this man and my encounter with him for what he was offering....a full heart and loving thoughts.

the Slash Pine

I found a pine that caught my eye while touring the Japanese Garden at the Fort Worth Botanic Garden last week. A gardener (has to be the best job in the universe!) was coming up the path, so I inquired as to what it might be. He grinned from ear to ear and thanked me for noticing such a magnificent tree, the Slash Pine, Pinus elliotti.

This is a tall coastal tree that never should be growing this far west in Texas, but here was a stand of twelve. These mature pines formed a lovely arc in the deep shade along the rim of a bowl whose sides dropped down to the koi pond twenty feet below. What caught my eye initially was their bark. I was unable to take my eyes off the large, purplish, red-brown plates, as well as the incredibly long, glossy dark green needles, as I stumbled along the path. I was so mesmerized by their textural beauty that I forgot to snap a photograph. No way could I have captured their essence with my Canon, so you can just Google and I will treasure this memorable discovery in my mind's eye.

My Big Girl Panties

I just returned home from the 33rd Annual conference of the Alliance for Historic Landscape Preservation held in Fort Worth, TX. In early February, I submitted an abstract for my research on Oak Hill Cemetery in Cedar Rapids, IA and I was selected by the education committee for a student scholarship presentation at their April conference. This was my first such venture into the real world of academics. I was to deliver a 15-minute presentation to professors and practitioners from several disciplines, all working in the area of advocacy for the preservation of historic landscapes.

Surprisingly, I wasn't nervous; at least not in that nauseated, gut-wrenching way I sometimes feel when I am in over my head. I admit, I was a little intimidated by the names and qualifications of those listed in the membership directory. Some were scholars whose papers, journal articles, and books I have cited in my research. However, I had worked relentlessly on refining my presentation, and with the wonderful support and guidance of my major prof, I was able to deliver a polished PowerPoint. In addition, upon meeting these wonderfully generous and talented people, I realized that they were truly interested in my research and welcomed me with open arms into this very specialized world of advocacy for historic landscapes.

It was suggested by several friends upon hearing of my upcoming trip to Fort Worth that I tell a joke to break the ice before presenting. I am not very good with jokes, so I just figured I would forgo the funny stuff and plunge ahead into my lecture. But praise the lord, before I left, a professor friend of mine called to see when I was leaving and if I was excited about presenting. I was to leave early Wednesday morning, and yes, I was excited to present. She told me that the first time she presented her research, a friend had told her it was time to put on her "big girl" panties. This was my opener! It was perfect. Almost all of these Alliance people were close to my age, so I felt I could pull it off. I opened with this quick story; I told them right off that I had 'em on and I was ready to roll. Even the curmudgeon in the back row cracked a smile.

Although I am probably more closely aligned with the Depends crowd, I felt that it was time to put on my "big girl" panties. If I was going to do this, I wanted to make a respectable impression. I wanted to be taken seriously for the work I had done with regard to my research. I think I accomplished that these past few days. I made some great friends. I even had a prof offer an invitation for me to come present to his studio. He wanted his students to experience my passion for these everyday landscapes. I said I would have to take a rain-check, but I was humbled that he had asked.

Mostly I am thankful. I have such wonderfully supportive and caring friends who just happen to be my professors who continually push me toward these exceptional experiences. I am always amazed at the bountiful rewards that fall into my lap when I make that extra effort and reach for the stars....and those panties.

What do ya think????

The Eaglet Has Landed |: (

Yesterday, I was showing the EagleCam website to a friend and as we zoomed in close Daddy E got off the nest...it was very warm here for an early spring day. I think he was airing out his privates and giving the kids a chance to breath fresh air. Or...the older of the two eaglets was nipping him from below because of hunger. Anyway, as he leaned over the fresh kill in the nest, the little pip closed his beak on what appeared to be a feather under Daddy E's beak. When Daddy E jerked back his head to rip off a piece of entrails, he accidentally flung Junior #1 out of the bowl of the nest. Junior #1 is only 36 hours old, so there was no way he could climb up and over the brim of the nest.

I was just sick. For a moment in time, Scot and I both stopping breathing. We thought he was going over the edge. The nest is 80 feet above ground and out toward the edge there is nothing but twig structure that a little chick could easily drop through. He landed on solid material, but it was on the outside of the nest. Daddy E resettled on the nest and never tried to bring Junior #1 back across the hump. What if the temps had been in the 20s or 30s? The poor little guy was struggling, but to no avail. He was on his own and Daddy E was oblivious. I was yelling at the computer screen. Scoop him in! What kind of father are you? Where is Mommy E? There will be hell to pay when she gets back.

I had to turn off the laptop. It was like watching a suspenseful movie except this was real life and there was nothing anyone could do to save that little guy. I was sick. I could not work in studio anymore. I had to go home.

When I got home, I explained all of this to Tess and she assured me that everything was OK. She had just seen both of them in the nest. I did not believe it, so she showed me that Junior was no longer on the edge. That did not prove he had not fallen over!!!!! Maybe she had just seen the younger one and the egg thinking it was both chicks in the nest. How could the 'flung one' have make it back by himself? Tess again reassured me....she had watched as one of the birds just reached over the rim and gently scooped Junior up and over, back into the nest. Back-hoe style.

Mommy E was sitting on the nest when I logged back in to check. Just then, she got up and there they both were. Cheeping and floundering....inside the nest! All was well and both were safe. The third egg was even showing signs that Junior #3 was working away from inside his shell trying to break free. Life was good again. The Family E was intact. I also noticed that Mommy E had been busy while she was out. Lying next to the bowl was the dead rabbit from Friday, but now there was a crow and a very large fish. The pantry was stocked, everyone was safe, so I shut down the laptop and crawled into bed.

Junior #2 Has Arrived

Sometime between 1:30 this morning and 9 a.m., #2 broke free. He makes #1 look all grown up!