PNewL PNewS 33.1: Moving on...sort of

 

PNewL PNewS

           Volume 33 Issue 1     “All the pnews that phits.”    April already…or...May 2025

 

Moving on…Sort of

Dearest Readers:

     Other than during the 386-day World Tour (which started exactly 30 years ago!) during which I didn’t write the PNewS, this is the longest I have gone between issues. I have written stuff and then it sat on my desktop and it needed so much editing because new stuff had happened and I was behind and I couldn’t face it. I thought, I could delete it all (but it’s a record of where I was then and it felt too hard to throw it away). Then I wondered if people could read two disaster-related issues in a row and I wondered…oh lots of things. Then I thought I could just post it without telling anyone and I could say, in the real PNewS, [here] that there is this blathering post on the blog that is meh but was important to me so it needed to stay but it was once again too messy and two too messy issues in a row made me feel not quite myself.

     So here I am and so are you.

     Disasters are messy and take a lot of time and some day we will all have up close and personal experience with disasters and we will share our stories as one does and the whole world will feel messier but a little better from the sharing.

            love, peggy

PS Frankly, the whole world feels pretty messy so we can all feel like honorary members of a club we never wanted to join. Come along, tell your stories, see the beauty, hold onto those you love or maybe just like a lot, and pet the puppies.

 

Post-Storm Updates

(Note: I have decided to post the longer post-storm piece separately at https://pnewlpnews.blogspot.com/)

      It takes more than a village to pull Western North Carolina back together. In the early days after the Storm, the power people from Indiana came to bring us electricity, then Michiganders brought back the Internet.* A hearty crew from Kentucky rebuilt the road. And hopefully, lastly, some remarkable folks from Wisconsin took away the downed brush and trees. And that was just our neighborhood. I’ve heard from friends in other parts of the region tell similar stories. Kinda warms my heart. I know it’s their jobs and they go where they are sent and where the work is but some of it was in nasty weather and tough conditions and I will always be grateful. (One of the guys from Wisconsin said he’d been away from home since October…)

     *Spectrum who provides internet to a lot of people up my road ran a generator for almost six months to power the folks up top. There was a guy (maybe a bunch of guys) whose job it was to fill the generator with gas several times a day. When I came home from the airport at midnight in the middle of a snowstorm, one of those guys was coming down from filling up the generator. Last I heard, there were still 20 or so generators running around the county. Buster and I used to walk up the road to check on the generator and then, boom, one day it was gone. Progress.

     I met with the Debris Removal Assessors. They documented the downed trees on our properties (mine and my neighbors)—it was pretty cool. They had mapping software that showed them exactly where things were on our property. Then we waited.

     The text came one day—they’d be here soon. And as I was driving off to yet another Big Fiber Giveaway, the trucks arrived. Let me say, I am very grateful. They say we (maybe my neighbors and my property together?) would have had to pay about $100,000 for the work they did. (Thank you, tax payers!) It’s also one more level of loss. Each stage of removal has exposed more of what is lost. There is still a tree behind my house that I told them to leave. I’ll hire people with smaller machinery. I can’t have tanks driving over everything and dragging massive gouges into my yard. I’m done. As I said, I am thankful for what folks have done but I need some time to adjust to this next step.

     Being in CA in January, following the Southern CA fires was humbling. Our storm hit a region but it's mostly rural. LA? A massive urban area? Hard to imagine.

 

Getting Away Part I

     Speaking of being in California (and not disaster related!), I went to Northern California in January to make stuff (and visit) with old friends. In the past, Sue Ellen and Mary Beth had talked of their times in the studio, dyeing wool and threads and making stuff. I said, I want to do that! I suggested that a group of us get together to make stuff together. It was a blast and so comforting. I invited myself to Sue Ellen and David’s house (not realizing that five days is a kinda long time to impose...). Sue Ellen is a wonderful cook and has a very cool studio. There were many of us crafting and hanging out and it was a great way to start a challenging year. Plus! Judy, a friend and owner of a good dog, Sue Ellen’s sister and neighbor is a docent at the tide pools off Bodega so we had an expert showing us the sea. My dear friend Sara consented to be my chauffeur and I believe a good time was had by all. Thank yous all around.

 

Getting Away Part II

     Today, I find myself in Reykjavik…again…and I feel, not for the last time. I keep trying to figure out what about it is so appealing. Maybe now, the familiarity? Beyond the city, there is the space and wildness, remarkable vistas, hot water and wonderful food. I was in a workshop the other day where the instructor, a local, talked about the harsh environment over the last several thousand years. Yeah, that is not appealing. I like me some creature comforts.

     My excuse for coming to Iceland is the Iceland Writer’s Retreat (and look! I am finally writing!) and I stay to wander around. This year, I was a little crunched for time so I headed to Vestmannaeyjar, a group of islands off the southern coast. It was Easter Sunday and Monday and despite being a pretty secular country (according to people I talked to), they go all in for Easter. It lasts five days. Nothing was open except a brew pub and a falafel place. But the weather and the scenery were gorgeous, the food and beverage tasty, and I wandered a bit. I also got to hang out with a natural dyer of wool—she uses local flowers, roots and lichen plus a few imported bugs, and plants. AND I got another tattoo in a warm and cozy studio in Reykjavik.

     I thought this might be my last visit but I do believe I need to come back and do my “Best of” (according to me) Tour…and of course, attend IWR.

 

Getting Away Part III

     Okay, so this was kind of an extravagant adventure, but I flew from KEF to SEA to PDX. I had a meeting I attend that was being held outside of Portland where Peter lives so I took the opportunity to hang out with him and Martha who came in for the meeting and the visit. We had a lovely time and the meeting was, as always, inspiring in this moment (a comment that is getting tedious to this brain). BUT I have to tell you about a very cool thing: the flight from Reykjavik (KEF) to Seattle (SEA) is off the charts cool! Highly recommend. I had a window seat because I always sit there in case of views and because I have to fly the plane from there. It was stunning. We flew across the middle of Greenland which was overcast for much of it but was also pretty snowy when visible. Then across the water between Greenland and Canada which was very icy looking, perhaps iceberg-y, then just north of Hudson Bay which felt like a bucket list item. How cool to see the edges of Hudson Bay!!! And then Nunavut and Northern Territories down through Saskatchewan, Alberta and British Columbia, over the Canadian Rockies into Washington. To my surprise, I can’t tell you how thrilling it was. Oh, and!!! The flight from KEF to SEA is 7 hours 10 minutes while the flight from KEF to RDU is around 6. Huh? The roundness of the Earth and how you tackle it makes a difference…

 

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• I took a politically correct/protest week off of social media and noticed some interesting reactions. I have a knee jerk to click on Instagram without thinking… consistently. Not so with Facebook. I found I questioned whether I needed to take as many pictures as I usually do. I know a lot of small businesses I follow are getting off Instagram, where I found them in the first place, and I wonder how they will drum up business. Interesting time in popular culture.

• I started getting my hair cut at one of those storefront chains. The haircut is ridiculously cheap and not necessarily a bad haircut. I have noticed it could be a good haircut but not what I asked for. Lesson learned.

• The Buster Report: 11 mini bars of fancy chocolate, a stick of butter, my meds, a bag of dried mango, the packaging of David’s birthday present—all gone, not on the same day.

• It’s “Mouse in the House” season! Several years ago, I had a mouse that moved dried pasta—fusilli—from the pantry to an eyeglass case in a drawer across the room. I think that same year, there was a mouse nest in a different drawer in my sewing room which is across the house. This year, the mice got into the rice (and the almond flour but that doesn’t travel easily). So far, I found A LOT of rice in one of my knitting bags—I’d say ¼ cup, and then scattered grains in a basket full of mini skeins of yarn. I’m thinking there might be more relocated rice—I just haven’t found it yet. The thing that I find remarkable is the amount of poop I have found. Obviously, they—there were a total of five…my personal worst—were hearty poopers. It’s everywhere and in large quantities in the pantry! (Turns out Buster is an effective mouser…He found one in a water bottle and it was dispensed with.)

• Did you know that no American Indian language has a word for "religion"? (I'm taking a class on Native Americans or American Indians--still a little confused on what the right term is—but it’s been a really great class!)

• I am finding, even four months after the Storm that when I see people for the first time, the conversation always needs to include our Storm stories. (Sorry/not sorry to conclude with a Storm comment.)

 

"I know you are anxious. I know you are wondering where all of this will go. I know you feel you are on a ride you cannot stop. Many of us feel that way. It is the natural reaction to chaos and chaos is the unexpected happening over and over. While we may not be able to stop it, we can keep our own equilibrium. We do that by focusing on one another: hold on to me, as I hold on to you, as together we hold on to Spirit."

 

and..

"Speak, leaders of every nation, leaders of every faith, speak, let the world hear your voice, speak, against the violence and the greed, against the bullying and the power grab, speak, let your voice call others to freedom, speak, so that silence will not bury us in the shadows of history, speak and speak now, before the time for speaking is past."

-Indigenous (Choctaw) elder and retired Episcopal bishop Steven Charleston (two of his recent daily meditations)

PNewL PNewS...more storm stuff

 Written between October and April...

Doing Good Work: After the Storm

     On social media, I am constantly reminded that people are very busy around here taking care of their neighbors…even several months after the Storm. They are slopping mud, chainsaw-ing debris, collecting, distributing and doing good work. I have felt like a shlub. I keep feeling like I am beyond shoveling mud and so am not doing the hard work.

     My do-gooder work has had to do with the organization with which I am heavily involved… Local Cloth. We had 70+ vendors in our retail shop that lost their inventory and part of their livelihoods. A small team of us took it on to get the word out and start selling their goods at far flung markets around the state.

     Our first market was in Charlotte —I mentioned that last issue. It was fun, and good to be away. Local Cloth was really lucky to have an administrator who lived outside the disaster area and had her wits about her to get us there and other places. Plus we had a great silly time and made some money for our artists and made new friends for the organization.

     Our next endeavor was the “Big Fiber Giveaway.” A woman in upstate New York organized a donation event at the New York State Sheep & Wool event aka Rhinebeck where they asked shoppers to buy a skein of yarn for themselves and one for the folks in WNC. It grew. By the time she was ready to come on down, she had eight plus pallets of wool, equipment, fabric, and tools. A former owner of a local yarn shop put the word out and she showed up with a camper van and trailer filled with goods sent from all over the country. It was a bit overwhelming.

     Meanwhile, we were negotiating getting into the Folk Art Center where the event was scheduled to occur on the then closed Blue Ridge Parkway. We were trying to be grateful and hopeful and helpful and we all—the Folk Art Center people and the event people—were a wee bit frustrated. We just wanted to be able to distribute crafts supplies to folks who had been impacted by the Storm.

     On the day after the national election, we were at the Folk Art Center at dawn, greeted by a trucker who had gotten through various barriers and delivered the goods to appreciative crafters. While I knew that he and I had not voted the same way (he was wearing a Trump hat) the day before, the fact that he got the goods to people who needed this uplift, made us all feel better by the end of the day.

     This three-day event supplied machines and tools, yarn and fabric, and some unrelated goods. Distraction from the election and from the Storm recovery for five hours a day was a gift. People were so grateful. I was sleepless one night wondering how we were going to manage this largesse, but on Friday, hundreds of people showed up, leaving with bags of goodies. Many said it was the best day they'd had since the Storm. Saturday and Sunday were equally busy. Teachers, artists, people who had had serious damage—all came and thought about being creative. It was remarkable.        

     Our volunteers felt great being there and many from the Folk Art Center said it was a really great event for them to be a part of as well. Win—win—win. Monday morning, we cleaned out the auditorium and took away 6+ bins -- that's all that was left! And we raised ~$6000 in the three days of the event to support our rebuild and the artists who lost their inventory in the storm.

     More markets followed. The one my friend Marnie hooked us up with in Greensboro was also great. I had Covid so was carefully masked and took frequent breaks. Some of the people who came said they came primarily to support Local Cloth. Locally, Lowes opened their parking lot to a market of artists and while it was extremely cold, it was also very successful—we were selling hats and mittens! And finally, The Big Crafty turned out to be a bonanza. A market held in the arena in downtown Asheville was packed and people were there to shop.

     With that, our merry band of marketeers took a break for the holidays, but we did sneak in a smaller Big Fiber Giveaway in Ashe County. We had a few items that were specifically for people who had requested them—a loom for a teacher who lost hers, a sewing machine for another person. We also had two more sewing machines that were snapped up quickly and as much yarn and fabric as we could stuff in the van. Again, almost all of it was off to appreciative new homes.

   We’re not done. I keep thinking the donations will slow down but they just keep coming. I have a hard time keeping it all straight—someone is aging out of her crafty years, another is clearing the decks for new ideas, and another just has too much—and that’s just this week!

     This weekend we went to Yancey County with a whole bunch of stuff—truck-fulls that came from Virginia including sewing machines and sergers, an SUV full of yarn from an estate in Burke County, a rented van full from Charlotte and other donations from folks closer to home. The generosity and the need. We’re the conduit between the two.

     We had a great turnout, it was a beautiful day, the smiles were so wide. It’s a small community up there and people were seeing their friends for the first time since the Storm. It was pretty dang touching.

    And the beat goes on—a group in Tryon wants to replicate our Giveaway. When we booked “Another Big Fiber Giveaway” in Swannanoa in April, the Tryon folks decided they'd come to us--we had the system down. The Swannanoa event was close to the heart of some of the hardest hit parts of the area. We raised money for local food pantries and gathered 30+ boxes of food. It was on the same day as Knit for Food, a national fundraiser for Feed America, Meals on Wheels, World Central Kitchen and Team No Kid Hungry, which raised $530,000+ nationally and over $3000 locally. It was indeed a three ring circus. We had another amazing group of volunteers who got it all done. I am so grateful.

     Now we are taking another little break. We need to get the Studio back open (hopefully in the next month...) and then the Anything Fiber Sale. Still plenty going on, just different. Meanwhile, the green has returned to the land and one of these days the trucks removing the trees will move on to other neighborhoods. It ain't over yet.

 

 

PNewL PNewS 32.3: The Storm Edition

 

PNewL PNewS

Volume 32 Issue 3                        “All the pnews that phits.”             October 2024

Editor’s note: I am trying to get this out while it is still fresh. I’ve worked on verb tenses and some of it is just rough and frankly so am I. I hope it conveys the experience. I’ve often thought as I listen to the news that at some point most of the people in the world will have some level of PTSD. I’m more sure of it now. I have listed some places at the end I recommend supporting should you feel inclined. (NO pressure! I thought it might save people from having to ask!)

 

Storm related: Hurricane Helene

The Storm hit hard around 7:30am (or was it 8:30?) Friday, September 27, though many of us were awakened by winds as early as 5am. I did several circuits within the house, looking out the windows. Everything was fine—it was windy and trees were bendy but it wasn’t anything scary. Then the wind picked up, blasts coming from all directions and water slapping at the house. I didn’t take it seriously until a very large branch (I could not carry it without cutting some branches off) hit the house and a window that, remarkably and thankfully, didn’t break. And I thought, shouldn’t I be in the middle of the house, away from windows? I sat on the floor by the laundry room with Buster in my lap. and from there, I could see the windows in both the front and the back of the house.          

     Sometimes, I couldn’t see anything out there. It was gray and misty. Only it was more solid than mist. I couldn’t see my back fence. I couldn’t see anything out front. (A tornado?) People often say the sound is like a freight train, but to me it was more like being under the flight path of an airport. Next time I walked around the house, looking out the various windows, all the trees were gone. The giant Wild Cherry I’d had bears in just a few weeks before was in the driveway, the dogwood and poplars in the front yard, the Leyland Cypress were neatly laying in a row along Jeff and Susan’s driveway (or so it appeared at first glance). It was so much lighter with all those trees gone—I could brush my teeth without turning on the light which was good because there was no power or water for the next 18 days.

     Jeff and Susan delivered the world’s best cup of coffee around 11. They figured they were safe because we were between bands.

     Winds died down around 1pm.

     We walked around in disbelief for the rest of the day. Chainsaws seemed to start up immediately.

     Mail was delivered on Monday.

     For several days in a row, the morning temperature was 60 degrees and every morning it felt different.

     Four or five days with not much communication, then a little cell service if I walked to the bottom of the road. I could receive texts but couldn’t tell if I could send them—I’d get notifications that they hadn’t sent but then occasionally I would get a response. It was confusing.

     Our little road is damaged. It’s always been a gravel road but most of that has washed away and the water took most of the dirt. The ditch on one side has become a gulley. It’s a single lane which is particularly challenging when large trucks are using it. These things take time and patience.

      Meanwhile it seemed to get a little better each day except for when it didn’t. Patsy and Ernie were out of town and they offered their home as a place to retreat to—their house had power and water though a tree fell on their community water tower and the future was unknown. They also have a gorgeous view with little reminder of the Storm. A couple days it felt like all I could do was sit on their deck and charge devices and take a shower, for which I was grateful.

     Jeff and Susan and Rob and I formed a pod like in Covid days--we ate dinner together each night. We also moved a lot of trees (eight off the doublewide) and branches as Jeff cut them into manageable pieces. Jeff is the Chainsaw Master—at one point, he took off his ear protectors because he needed to listen to the tree. We cleared three long driveways among other things.

     The dinner pod evolved. It was so freaking comforting to know I was having dinner with those people. The other night I thought I am so tired I can’t, but I could and it was good. Susan was kind of the captain of the kitchen—we all participate but she’s the boss. Jeff was captain of the hard work and Rob and I are support staff and it all worked. One night, I made fresh pasta because the pasta dough I put in the freezer a couple weeks ago was defrosting. The sauce was also defrosting: “Just roasted tomatoes” the container said. I simmered some stuff and the best part was Susan wasn’t the kitchen captain—she got a night off. Rob and I agreed that we may never know how to thank these folks.

      There are daily briefings twice a day on the BPR radio station saying what’s opened, where to get potable or non-potable water (grateful for the creek for flushing toilets!), how the municipal water system is progressing (one 36” diameter pipe was 25’ underground and was uprooted(?)!!). It’s surprisingly helpful. I feel like I am getting insights into media/admin relations –there are definitely personality issues there!  

     I took garbage to a dumpster and went to the grocery store for the first time! Yay.

     The place I spend most of my time, Local Cloth, is decimated. It had 11feet of water and is now filled with toxic sludge. I missed the initial announcements because of no cell or internet and because when I finally rejoined the connected, my fuzzy brain couldn’t go through the 200+ backlog of emails. Judi, the Board Chair was quoted in the NY Times, we have a Go Fund Me. People want to help. I’m tired.

     Power is coming but right now it’s five miles away and most of the poles are down between here and there. The road is passable, single lane only, rough and slow going but it’s better than some.

     I’m supposed to be in Ushuaia, Argentina and for some reason the tour company doesn’t get it. They think I should be arriving on the next plane. Maybe I should (the airport is closed and I can’t). Thank goodness I opted for trip insurance. I said to our dinner pod…I can’t leave. I need to be here—I feel responsible.

 

The Helene Diet

We are eating very well--we need to eat the contents of our freezers. We are also working very hard. I suspect that’s where the weight loss came or maybe it’s stress. My Apple Watch tells me I’m exercising and walking and standing as it would like me to. There is still so much to do and I feel old.

 

Buster

He’s been affected too. He is spoiled and I did it and I’m not sorry except for when he gets so stressed out by the lack of routine. Tonight he took off in the dark and I had to let him go because…it’s dark. Thankfully, he came home and stretched out in the middle of the bed as he often does and slept like a rock.

 

Miscellaneous Observations

• I just wanna play Wordle. (There is no power or water.)

• My computer screen is filthy. I tend to do most computer work in low light and now that I am working out in the sunshine, it’s not good. I need to do something about that but all the recommendations online include “distilled water” and other things I don’t have.

• Everyone should have a battery-operated radio. It really helped me feel connected.

• I peed in the toilet. We agreed that we pee in the woods. But tonight, after dark, I peed in the toilet and I felt guilty. The toilet is kind of a nightmare right now. I was glad it was just my toilet. You can’t understand this stuff unless you’re living it.

• People drive fast on my little road—it’s not hard since it is going downhill but Helene has provided a speed bump just below my driveway, where the creek took over the road and washed away the dirt and gravel and left only a very rustic cobblestone. It slows just about everyone down.

• I find I read about 10 pages each night and then the next night I have to go back and read half of them again. Slow going. Others say they have the same experience.

• One of the things I learned recently is how much I rely on my hearing to keep me safe. When Buster and I are walking, I know where cars are. I have been grateful I still hear pretty well. Then the Storm changed things and the creek got really loud, and chainsaws and helicopters were everywhere and I lost the security of feeling I had a sense of my environment. Plus unfamiliar vehicles are using our broken roads and they don’t really know how to drive around an impulsive dog. It’s another unsettling part of the new normal.

• After I got power back, I watched ET…on VHS. When I got to the part where the bicycles take off, I broke down. I wondered when it was going to happen. I knew the tears were hiding somewhere but who knew it would be that funny little movie which holds a warm place in my heart from my movie theatre days, that would be the thing to unlock all the pent-up emotion. Cathartic.

• We have been very fortunate with the weather since the Storm. Beautiful sunshiney days with comfortable temperatures. I am starting to get nervous about low humidity and no rain and all of the fuel (dry leaves and gobs of wood).

• Pro-tip: I bought a tube of Dr Bronner’s toothpaste to try out, and boy was I glad I did! It doesn’t get foamy which when I was having to boil water really cut down on the morning water use.

 

Losing and Finding and Losing Stuff

This seems to be a constant battle. I can’t keep track of anything but what I use every day. I know that my headlamp will be in the middle of the bed—that’s handy to know and a little unusual. I finally put the vacuum cleaner away because I almost broke my toe on it in the middle of the night. I put the Luci lights on the windowsill each morning so they’ll be charged for the next night.

     It’s the other stuff that gets lost. I found my pruning saw under the recycling. I’m not sure how I found it or why I found it or why it was there but there you have it. Then I lost it for a while, which pissed me off and found it again and put it on the stack of important things that are on the corner of my craft table. That’s kind of Command Central these days where I put things that I want to be able to find again. I now have a basket for charging cords. To people who design electronics: IT IS NOT HELPFUL TO HAVE A MULTITUDE OF CHARGING CORDS THAT ONLY FIT ONE THING DURING A DISASTER. (First world problem but then a lot of this is!) 

     In my own way, I am organized, but there are so many pieces of the puzzle right now. It’s hard to keep them all straight. And the nights are long and very dark.

 

     The power came on on Day 18. I am at the end of the line. Jeff and Susan got theirs back on Day 16. Rob says it took them five hours to put in a new pole near his house, then they had to connect everyone else on up the mountain. I cried when the nice man came down my driveway in a giant electrical truck from Indiana and said, you should have power. I did. Living with a well that had not been breached by storm water, it meant I had good water. No more over chlorinated potable water! Yay!

     My internet provider, Frontier, says they show no outages in the area. I think they might change their tune when they come out. It occurred to me the other day that all the wires in the road may be from the days of landlines. If that’s true, who will clean all that up? No one’s coming to restring those, right?

     And we are the lucky ones. Our houses are only slightly battered. My roofer has come and gone. (I love that I don’t have an electrician or a plumber relationship but I have a roofer I like and he returns my phone calls. Whoever thought having a good relationship with a roofer would come in handy?)

     In the Life Goes On category, Local Cloth is rising from the mud. The building managers had flood insurance and the mud removal and sanitation process is well under way. We are making plans – my head is spinning with all of the plans…all of the people who want to help. I have tears just below the surface for all the kindness.

     This weekend we went to Charlotte to a Market where they opened up 10 booths for people from WNC. It was very sweet (and remarkably well run). People were very kind. I took a bushel of apples to support the farmers and people ate all of them. We went with the work of several artists to see if we could find a new revenue stream. We sold a solid amount of stuff and we laughed a lot.

     During this Market, I got a message from a friend I had reached out to for ideas of markets in Greensboro and her market friends stepped up in a big way. I couldn't read the messages during the Charlotte market because they made me cry. People are being so nice.

     A fiber mill owner in New York collected yarn and wool at the Sheep and Wool festival there and they are delivering it here for people who’ve lost their stuff! Fiber people are THE BEST.

     I guess I should add that Disasters uncover the best in people (and there is some “worst” but I won’t go there).

 

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations (from the before times)

• I had to get a new phone cover. I buy compostable covers and I was impressed that my first one lasted 3+ years. I bought a light colored one thinking it would be easier to find in my purse. Surprisingly, it isn’t.

• The other day (pre-Helene) I was waiting for someone to ask me how my day was—I was prepared with an answer. I’d had an argument with Alexa and the GPS guy in my car. I thought that could give one pretty good insight into my day. No one asked…so I’m telling you.

 

Wanna donate???

• BELOVED Asheville. Historically works with the unhoused. Since the Storm they are everywhere doing everything—they had flush brigades for senior housing, bringing in water to flush toilets. They’ve been repairing people’s homes, matching people who need with people who have, and supplying basics like food, water, and clothes. https://www.belovedasheville.com/

• Local Cloth: my people https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-resilient-fiber-artists-and-farmers

• Manna Food Bank: https://www.mannafoodbank.org/

• Community Foundation of Western North Carolina: Contributions will support recovery efforts related to the devastating impacts of Hurricane Helene in Western North Carolina.

https://cfwnc.fcsuite.com/erp/donate/create/fund?funit_id=1332

 

These are all my people.

PNewL PNewS 32.2

 

PNewL PNewS

Volume 32 Issue 2                        “All the pnews that phits.”             September 2024

 

Christmas in July

     Sara has a thing about Christmas. Well, that is not totally accurate—I think she’s pretty average on the prep, decorating, celebrating part. She has a thing for the aftermath of Christmas…that lingers. Her Facebook page is peppered with photos of Christmas trees on the curb in April or decorations that are left up for months or even the better part of the year. I always think of her when I see something Christmas-y that is out of place.

     I am not a huge fan of Christmas but I love the decorations. When I moved to this house, there was a tree down the road that looked just like a little Christmas tree in the wild. When the holidays approached, I decided to decorate it. Someone actually pulled it out by the roots. I thought that was a bit harsh but I was not dissuaded. I moved the decorations closer to home.

      For years, I decorated the tree across from my driveway with large shiny ornaments. I did it anonymously. I remember one neighbor wondering who it was that was doing it. Someone said it was me –I didn’t say anything. Another said it couldn’t be Peggy—it started before she lived here. That made me happy. Then someone started taking the ornaments and that made me sad so I moved this harmless silliness onto my property.

     I don’t just decorate for Christmas. I have Valentine’s hearts and St Patrick’s Day shamrocks and Easter eggs, patriotic hooha. I do it all though I just realized I forgot July 4^th and Labor Day. Oops. Susan helps—she’s very clever, especially around Halloween. It’s a harmless hobby and I like to think it makes someone smile or roll their eyes or…react. I like that.

     This past Christmas I hung some cheap red and gold balls in a tree in my yard—an American Sweetgum that I got from the Greenworks native tree giveaway. I planted it two years ago when it was a twig. It’s about eight feet tall now. Oh my. I thought I’d leave the balls in that tree until it got close to hard to reach them—see how long it takes to grow that far. It’s entertaining and when I catch a glimpse of a Christmas ball, it makes me think of Sara and that’s a good thing.

     I also put a few of those cheap balls on the road below my house before the holidays. I walk Buster down there every morning and it is cheery to see the little glint of red. I also thought other people might notice it—locals and visitors and workers—and might have a moment. Wishful thinking.

     Recently the Brain Trust that is the people who keep our roadsides…tidy? Safe? In check? shredded the vegetation alongside the road and I couldn’t find the ball—I couldn’t find the tree…it was gone. (When I see the ASPLUNDH: The Tree Experts trucks, I have an actual physical reaction. They are…savage tree destroyers IMHO. They broke my mailbox post in their shredding—well, they cracked it and I taped it up with bright duct take. So there!) Several weeks later I saw a glint in the bushes – it was red, it was whole, it was waiting for me? I re-hung the ball in another bush. It still makes me happy.

     This morning on our walk, the balls, both the original red and another gold that appeared one day, are both gone. C’est la vie. Christmas decorating season is right around the corner.

 

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• The humidity has been challenging this summer. It is not something I enjoy…at all. I find myself lying under the ceiling fan to dry off. I am unable to knit on the front porch because the needle sticks to the yarn. I’m done. (Not sure what that means—it’s not like me being “done” changes anything…I’m just saying…)

• A while back, I finished the book The Address Book: What Street Addresses reveal about Identity Race Wealth and Power. I mentioned it last issue. It was really good though took me a long time to read because I am that sort. In the final chapter, she talked about what's next in trying to get everyone an address--not having one prevents people from accessing services, including emergency services.  (Did you know there are Vanity Addresses in NYC? They improve the je ne sais quoi – upgrades their image? Trump's property (properties?) has one--they are addresses for buildings that aren't where the address says they are and have resulted in death, because emergency responders can’t find them, but that's another story.)

     In the final chapter, she talked about what3words which is a navigational system--a phone app--that assigns 3 words to every 3 square meters ON EARTH. I downloaded it and learned where I sit on my front porch is nightfall.disappear.plume. The words that are assigned have no relationship to neighbors, but it's like a GPS coordinate so that if someone needs to be found, this can pinpoint it. (They use simpler words for urban areas because they expect more use--the Arctic's words are multiple syllables.)

      Shortly after finishing the book, I opened the Islander’s Assn. newsletter and they are using it on Georgian Bay! The words for our cookhouse on Osawa Island include headliner.quilts.dreaming. observe.tyrant.magnifies. bland.lasses.handover. (There are probably more but you get the picture).

     It's a rabbit hole but I find it interesting and thought you might too. And so ends this public service announcement. You are welcome.

• I received a phone call at 5am on the landline. (Yes I still have one and it stopped working for a couple weeks and I survived so maybe I should disconnect it but there’s more to this story.) It was letting me know that the emergency services 911 number in NEW HAMPSHIRE was not working and gave me a 603 number I could call if I had an emergency…in NEW HAMPSHIRE. I think that was very kind of them but please don’t do it again.

• Recently I learned about a do-gooder trip that I would really like to take. I have been away quite a bit this year and I wrote, “I am very interested but my travel calendar feels used up for 2024. I am trying to convince myself that I could borrow from 2025.”

• Since Buster and I have started walking on a kinda busy road I have noticed that the sounds of cars on the pavement are so different—it’s obviously the tires. There’s a Rubicon Jeep I see almost every morning and we have gotten friendly, the driver and I—I wave, he waves…every morning—and I can hear him from up the valley and then down the valley. Jeff says tires on a vehicle like that are nobby (nubby?) for off-roading. Mystery solved.

• On a related topic, I bought some new walking shoes and they make more noise than I am accustomed to—turns out they too are nobbier (nubbier?) than my old shoes.

• Earlier in the summer, I stopped feeding the birds until fall. I continued to feed them to use up seed. On the last day, they emptied two birdfeeders for the first time since cold weather. Little pig birds!

• I rarely feel like I can speak authoritatively on anything. I follow some social media pages on Iceland and it always cracks me up that people are willing to go on and on about where we should all go based on their 4-day or week-long trip there. I’ve been there three times and I could tell you my favorite parts but I can’t imagine feeling that knowledgeable.

• One of the downsides of driving long distances alone is that I have no one to talk to about the things I see along the way that could be interesting to talk about. Recently on I-75, I drove for a period alongside a vehicle with vanity plates that read “3XALADY” or something like that. I thought, based on her driving, I could quibble with her on that. Then as I scanned the radio stations, I heard a very cheerful woman say, “There is so much freedom in Jesus,” and I wanted her to elaborate. And how many times are you tempted to call that number on the vehicles with “How am I driving?” painted on it—do you think some of those drivers forget they could be ratted on? And finally, my favorite company to hate these days: Asplundh Tree Experts (*see earlier rant above, continued here)…seriously? Experts? You should see our neighborhood. One neighbor said it wasn’t as bad as it has been in the past. A ringing endorsement. Another said things will grow back. Sigh.There they were--a flotilla of Asplundh trucks driving down I-75 in central Ohio or maybe Kentucky, jockeying for position and blocking the fast lane. I suspect they were headed down to help post-hurricane, and thanks for that, but have some consideration! Perhaps it’s best I continue to drive alone…

• I live in “the country” which is fast becoming less that and more suburbia I think, but there are some days when I’ve been listening to the birds and the squirrels and the peace of the neighborhood and suddenly there’s a lot of truck noise or grading the road or multiple mowers or chainsaws or all of the bove and it doesn’t feel like the idyllic backdrop I think of as home.

• I don’t have space to go into any detail on my new project, The Good Ship Please Don’t Pop, an inflatable kayak that has yet to experience water, but it's something to look forward to in the next issue!

 

“I could spend whole days in near silence reading or writing or speaking in the simpler heart-sure vernacular of human-to-dog.” Gail Caldwell, Let’s Take the Long Way

 

PNewL PNewS 32.1

PNewL PNewS

 

Volume 32 Issue 1                       “All the pnews that phits.”                                     May 2024

 

 The Art of Digging Up Rocks

Where I live, one does not dig holes, one digs up rocks and collectively they reveal the hole. I suspect I’ve said this before—my neighbor used to say, you can’t stick a knitting needle in this dirt without hitting a rock. Sound familiar?

     The problem is, when I first hit a rock, I do not know if it is marble-size or coffee table-size. It’s all part of the fun and adventure.

     Everywhere I have created a hole, there is a pile of rocks…sometimes I create a border with the rocks but that is ineffective and hard to mow around. In one area, I gathered them into a quasi-artsy display, a rock garden of sorts but the earth is absorbing them and these giant (to me) rocks are disappearing. One of these rocks was so heavy, I pinched a nerve in my shoulder moving it. And now, it’s half submerged. I moved others to a stepping stone walk to the outdoor shower. This spring, ants have apparently moved in between the rocks and dug up dirt beneath them and they too are sinking (the rocks, not the ants. The ants will survive us all, along with all the other bugs). These projects obviously need some work and more regular attention.

     Every spring I have these moments of grandeur when I think I will plant trees and bushes and plants and bulbs. These all involve holes which involve dealing with rocks

     I am not a gardener, but I do aspire to my yard looking…better. (There was a meme on social media that read, You are not a bad gardener—the plant just didn’t try hard enough. Words to live by.)

     It may seem that I have spent enough time writing about my yard—and if you saw it, you’d think it should look better.

 

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• Since I returned from away, Buster has been a bit of a challenge. He’s eaten three candy bar/gifts + candy sushi, nine mini Kind bars + half a bag of dates (unpitted), part of a bag of dry beans and three bananas. He knocks over and inspects the paper recycling almost every time I leave the house without him. Sigh. Beth said something like we would never accept the behavior in our human friends that we accept daily in our pets. Indeed.

• In a small corner of my life, I read scholarship applications and rank them. It’s a humbling experience. I keep wondering what it would be like to be so smart and athletic and successful at such a young age. When one’s report card (do they still call it that?) is covered in 95-100s, how do they feel when they get an 89…or an 83? Those scores break my heart for them—but I would have been pleased to see those on my report card…

• In three years, I will have been writing the PNewS for half my life. This is the kind of thing that comes to mind as I walk Buster. (It was a more complicated story problem than I would have imagined. Math never was my strong suit.)

• I finally uploaded my last tax document. I was trying to figure out why this is such a traumatic (I tried to decide if that word was overkill, but really it isn't) experience, filing my tax documents. It is a seriously fraught time for me—this year in particular. (The accountancy firm merged with another and this is its first tax season under the new name and management--I hope that's why it's been so challenging.) For me, there're authority figure issues, not feeling capable, frustration with others I am waiting on who don't exhibit any responsibility or urgency, and then the exposure of my private business to my accountant and her staff. I have spent a stupid amount of time this year trying to get the link to their "vault." Why does it always feel like this is the first time people have done this stuff? [Editor’s note: It’s over, I survived another tax season. Hopefully it won’t come up again til next year!]

• Recently I read the following quote, written by a young person. There is so much here I find charming, I had to share: “I know that if I continue to be motivated to learn and better myself, …and keep reading books and being curious, I will be on track to be seventy years old, sitting on my pleather couch, reading a book about gardening.”

• I'm reading a book by one of the people who I'll take a class from at the writer's retreat. It's about the importance of everyone having a physical address. (I thought about my homestay in San Jose Costa Rica--I remember my house was described as near a bike repair shop that didn't exist anymore.) It's fascinating. They mapped a neighborhood in the slums of Kolkata and gave them addresses that are more like GPS coordinates and it was really effective in making people feel like they belonged, were part of something bigger PLUS people can get services they can't get without an address. There are people in government in all our states whose job it is to assign addresses. One guy in West Virginia had to name thousands of streets. He said it was exhausting. Who knew?

• And another tidbit from Diedre Mask’s book “The Address Book: What Street Addresses Reveal About Identity, Race, Wealth, and Power”: In England in the 1700s, 90% of men were named John, Edward, William, Henry, Charles, James, Richard and Robert. Sounds like my elementary school class. (BTW, Diedre was wonderful—I want her to be my new best friend.)

•  Sometimes when I am sending an email or posting on social media, I think, that would be a good pnewsy kinda thing so I copy and paste it into the file that becomes the next edition. Sometimes it’s interesting. Ofttimes it’s not.  

• I have a friend whose father used to ask deep probing questions every time I saw him. The first time I met him, at a barbecue, I was a deer in the headlights. After that, I would prepare myself not to look quite so boggled. As I continue to ponder how different people’s brains work, I was reminded of these interactions which I came to enjoy: what’s he going to ask this time?!?! That’s the way his brain works and I love that about him.

     My brain? I was walking Buster this fine cool morning and had an AHA! moment about car paint. There are new cars that have a different look to them because of the paint—it looks matte but it’s actually…well, more like gel nail polish. It’s kind of thickly one dimensional. I watched a vlogbrothers YouTube video the other day and Hank was ranting about this too! And he did the research. Turns out (and I kinda figured) the new paint doesn’t contain the shiny bits that make my (nine-year old!) car look different from new cars.

• I went through all my credit card statements to gather up information for taxes. I find it a kind of 

retrospective of the year. In some ways I am very frugal, in other ways, not so much. Some months I wonder what I ate, sometimes I feel like I must have spent half the month in the grocery store. And often I think, what are you going to do with all that yarn?

• Back in the early days of the PNewS, it was a hard copy, on paper. I asked folks to send stamps. I went to Office Depot and steeled myself for the lengthy process of getting front-back copies without jamming up the machine. I taped the copies together and mailed them. Once I got a notice from the post office that “mail like mine” needed to be secured better. I taped more. Then it was a website—I learned to write code--which wound up unsupported by the provider. At that point, I started attaching a PDF copy. That reminds me of a friend who said she couldn’t read it because her download was so slow. Now it is a blog. It’s been a long winding road—wonder what’s next.

• In a jet lag haze post-overnight flight to Reykjavik, I decided pho and a beer could be the perfect meal for a solo traveler—good for me, filling, tasty and takes forever to eat. I would like to hang out in cafes and restaurants like others do but I eat fast and boom, it’s time to go. The first really nice meal I ate out early on in my travel career, I finished in less than 20 minutes (that’s from when I sat down to when I got up). I am not a good lingerer.

• Recently, I moved a mirror in my house because it was behind where I sit for Zooms (only took me four years of Zooms with glare behind me to deal with it!). Now I come across the mirror in its new location and am surprised, and I miss it in its old location where I could do a just-before-I-walk-out-the-door check in on hair and oh I don’t know…to check if there is toothpaste on my shirt? I am such a  creature of habit.

• A woman I met at the writer’s retreat recommended a podcast/blog that focuses on memoir. As with all mailing lists, I paid attention in the beginning and now I scan and delete, and eventually I will unsubscribe. This one caught my attention: “What if the smallest almost forgotten moments were the ones that shaped us most?” I thought, well, that sounds like the PNewL PNewS.  

 

“At 51, believe it or not, or believe it and pity me if you are young and swift, I still don’t know, truly know ‘what I want to be.’…But in that profuse upstairs delicatessen of mine I’m as open to every wild possibility as I was at 13, although even I know that the chances of acting them out diminish with each heartbeat.” Seymour Krim

 

Editor’s note: I have written a bit about my recent trip to Iceland and it is a separate beast. I’ll post it to the blog when I get to it.