PNewL PNewS 22.3

PNewL PNewS

Volume 22 No. 3                  “All the pnews that phits.”                  October 2014

The Styrofoam has Landed

     Roger and I had the opportunity to take a road trip to Ohio and then points northeast. We drove over 3000 miles and had an oddly wonderful time. That should be odd and wonderful but I really liked the sound of oddly wonderful which I recognize means something altogether different.

     The stop in Cleveland to visit Evie, and John, and the Scherbel-Taylor clan was just pretty wonderful. Nothing odd there. Evie has been looking for kayak put-ins. We went exploring the outer edges of northeastern Ohio. The weather was nice and the scenery was beautiful. We even saw three bald eagles and ran into former neighbor/friends along the road. One of the days we got to see David and Kim who happened to be in town for the memorial service of a friend. That was icing on the cake.

     My visit with John was poignant and comforting and funny. He has a brain tumor and I suppose, if I weren't in total denial, I would say he is facing his final rodeo. John and I met in kindergarten--and I went on my first date with him in 8th grade, but he has no memory of that milestone--and re-met in Los Angeles when one of the children I was in charge of told his teacher that I, too, liked the Cleveland Browns, and within one “do you know” question, we found we knew the same John. We were 22. We have been in touch ever since. It has not always been easy. We are both on the prickly side, but for some reason, we have remained in touch through quite a bit of coming and going, and that has been comforting, I believe, to both of us. I was nervous at first to see him. I just saw him in Carmel where he lived on the top of a mountain overlooking everything, but still I was afraid he would not be John. But despite all he is going through--and all his brain is going through--he was absolutely John. He was funny and pissed off and political. He was also touching and so honest about what is going on and how that makes him feel. I am so grateful for the time we had. Makes me wanna go back.

     Dinner with the Dean and Susi and Barb and Betsy and Ted was raucous good fun and delicious. I thank them for having me.

     On to Ithaca and cousins John and Natasha. It is always interesting to me to see where Canada cousins live when not on an island in Georgian Bay, in old pine cabins, wearing t-shirts and shorts. John and Natasha’s did not surprise me. They live on the outskirts of town backed up to a lotus pond with lotus blossoms standing high above the water’s surface. It is a beautiful setting and a neat old house. I wish I’d had more time to poke around. What a gorgeous drive and a beautiful area and of course, great company.

     This is when the odd started. Well, not quite yet: the drive across the rest of New York and even more in Vermont and New Hampshire was great. Trees, views, all good.

     Then the odd started. Well, first some background: I “won” a week at a cabin in New Hampshire at a silent auction. Gini was doing her usual summer road trip and met me there. It really was fine, but odd. Lake house, not quite on a lake. No swimming in the lake. Needed to put food in fridge because of mice, but fridge was pretty full already. No place to sit outside at the house (dock down at lake, across the lane and down the hill, was highly sit-table). No grill for cooking. No internet or cell phone coverage which meant daily trips to the front porch of the library—not all bad. “Welcome to Historic______” (We’ll leave the name blank to protect the town.) was followed by a deserted “historic downtown.”

     We made the best of it and that was good fun. Explored local areas, went to Peterborough which was charming. Read and crafted. Went to a yarn store that was inexplicably closed (returned the next day and it was great). Stopped at several thrift shops that were all closed on the days we tried. Oh…and the Hike. There is a nice looking park on the edge of town. We stopped there one afternoon to take a walk. There were trails and a map. (I just read that there were 20 miles of trails! I think we saw a lot of em.) A walk in the park on a loop trail. No biggie, eh? Au contraire! Two and a half hours later, we burst out of the park into a clearing, better known as the HIGHWAY. It was hot. We had not brought anything with us—no water, no phone, no money…we were just going on a loop trail! Only two foreign-to-this-area middle aged women and a small black dog. As we looked at where we were, we started walking…and I said we can’t walk on the highway, Gini said we couldn’t go back IN THERE (the park). So we went down the off ramp in hopes of…well, you gotta have hope. Gini wanted to go into the Rite Aid. I saw no hope there. Corporate America wouldn’t help us—I thought we should find a mom and pop place but we weren’t really in momandpop land. Gini sucked it up and went inside. A few minutes later she came out with a young woman who was carrying her keys. She loaned us her car to drive to ours and come back!!! She said it was the only thing she could think to do. Gini later reported that there were a group of people in the store and she knew eventually one of them would break and help, but it was the Rite Aid employee who finally did. We thanked her profusely got our car, gave her hers back along with a wad of money and a note of appreciation. She gave Roger a bottle of water. So many lessons learned, but my favorite part was when Gini said, You want to go back in there? Oh and the part where she got us a getaway car. My hero.

     I am running on too long so won’t go on too much about other odd and wonderful parts. Left Gini heading north while Roger and I headed down to Charlotte’s house for lunch (Cleveland cousin and it was equally interesting to see her digs. Nice place—fabulous garden. Oh my!) then on to Maine. A short visit with Chris and Sculley to see their new-to-them summer pad which is a neat place and in a great location. Some noodling around and driving so many many miles on the back roads of mid-coast  Maine, followed by a mini high school reunion where we ate drank looked up old classmates and then called them. A hilarious end of a fun odd trip. Well, not quite the end. There was still 16 hours of driving home and the only amusing part of that was when Roger refused to go into the motel. I knew then, it was time to go home.

PS The reference in the title may be a bit confusing. When I left Evie’s house, I took with me a large box of Styrofoam she had saved until someone came up with a way to recycle it near her. Wanting to help her get stuff out of her house and having just read there was some place that had started recycling Styrofoam in Asheville, I said, sure I will take it. I have since lost the article about the recycler but Publix takes it and I am heading south one day soon so I will add it to my pile and Roger might just have to share the backseat with a lot of Styrofoam trays. Meanwhile, the Styrofoam has landed in Weaverville.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

•  A friend of my Facebook friend Babbie described her as a glutton for opportunity. I love that. I am stealing it. Done.

• Our local Women Build at Habitat lucked out to have a patron—The Lunch Lady, a woman named Barbara, who made lunch once a week during the build. This past year, she died. It has been and will be a great loss. At the Key Passing ceremony, we honored her (there will be more opportunities to honor her as we dedicate the kitchen on Women Build 2015 in her honor…you’ll hear more about that later). While Tricia and I were planning the ceremony on the phone, we got to the part about Barbara. I heard this ding. I walked cautiously, thinking there might be some weirdo out there ringing the bell hanging on the front porch. It was swinging...one part of me says it was a hummingbird, one part wonders where Barbara was right then. Another cool Barbara story: her husband emailed Betsy at Habitat to find out when the Key Passing was and it turned out we had scheduled it on their wedding anniversary. Gives me goosebumps.

• There is a young man in our neighborhood who is messing around with a large piece of property, empty land. It is his right to do—we have no zoning here. I remember when I first moved here, Gini said something like, While it is nice to be surrounded by all this undeveloped land, that means someone could do something you wouldn’t like on it one day. Now there is a 51 acre property up on the mountain at the end of the valley for sale. Holding my breath.

• I used to think, as I sat waiting for the Marin Airporter or more accurately pacing at SFO, that this was where my life actually took place and all the fun running around craziness was fleeting fantasy. Just recently, I had that same feeling in my bathroom at home!

• I have started inviting my creative friends over for what Gini calls parallel play at the Clubhouse (AKA The Doublewide). It’s just started but the first gathering was promising—six of us sitting around doing our own thing and visiting. It was good. At some point in my California life, I was in a class that was for educated women who wanted to figure out what we really wanted to do with our lives. One of the exercises was to fantasize about what it looked like. I envisioned this scenario where I lived in a house by myself but people came during the day to do whatever we did, but in close proximity. (I actually think we were doing some very productive good work.) In a very small way, this has started though, instead, different kind of good productive work--we are making stuff. I like it. (Wanna come? Let me know!)

•  It is only occasionally in my funny little life, that I am on deadline and really need the internet's support. Today is one of those days. I put something off to the last minute (now) and after resetting and checking connections, I called tech support and the ONLY message for outage in a multi-state area is "in and around Weaverville NC.” Really? Such luck. And I keep coming up with alternative things to do and they all revolve around the internet. This is when the cloud is really not useful. I could balance my checkbook but the statement hasn't been downloaded. The bills I need to pay? Online. The file for book prices I need to update? Dropbox. So predictable.

• At Chris and Sculley’s birthdays party, we had a remarkably lengthy conversation about…kitchen sponges! Who knew people had such strong opinions. Ruth often travels with a brand new sponge. Put your sponges in the dishwasher? Of course (and I do too). There were a few looks around the table that made me think not everyone was anti-bacteria obsessed. Ruth said she expected to see this in the PNewS. Here it is!

• An early morning wander around downtown Asheville is refreshing and kind of educational. It’s quiet and cool and the streets are empty. I suppose somewhere there are people going to work but it doesn't feel like that despite it being almost 9am. Tourists are apparently elsewhere, sleeping or eating. Retail shops remain locked up tight. It's a different time in a familiar place. The only things open are pushing coffee. I am reminded that I enjoy hanging out in coffee shops though after my maximum of one designer coffee...what then? I linger over a bubbly water.

• What is it about all the books on apparently all of our bedside tables? I know we are all still reading. What puts these in last place? Me? It's the library--too many temptations there with due dates so they get priority, but I have put a moratorium on library books. I just wiped off hunks of dust (it's humid) off the books on the bedside table and that caused me to set the limit! (Tom Bodett on “Wait Wait Don't Tell Me” said he decided he had read books that lived on his bedside table longer than six months...via osmosis…)

• Apparently, I have a hierarchy of Things I Don’t Like To Do. This morning I needed to call the electrician. I decided to do dishes instead and I hate doing dishes.

•  I have been thinking a lot lately about how we communicate. I have said this before but it just seems to get harder. For instance, I prefer email, hate the phone. But email is dicey—none of the nuances of verbal conversation. And timing is challenging. Some people are regular email checkers. Some do it once a day.  Sometimes I just have to pick up the phone. I am teetering on the edge of texting. I am beginning to see its value and the increasing number of people for whom it is a preferred form of communication, but it means a new phone and plan (and more money). Sigh. See? It just gets harder.

 •  It is interesting to see who falls into the thousands of emails in the inbox sort vs. the nice tidy filed inbox type. People I really like have bursting inboxes while I go wacko when there are more than…well, I can now tolerate 100 pretty well, though prefer under 50.

 No quote to end this issue. I just ask you to

PLEASE VOTE.

Thanks.

PNewL PNewS Vol 22 #2

PNewL PNewS

Volume 22 No. 2              “All the pnews that phits.”                   July 2014

This 80% Life

     While I have many really smart perfectionist Type A high achieving friends, I am not one of them. I think 80% is good enough—matter o’ fact—75% might be ok too. I have to go unearth my report cards—I think they might be in that range, for the most part.
     This reminds me of a term letter I got in college from Bob Orpinela (RIP) who taught Contemporary Philosophy. It was a hard course and I only took it to see if I could survive. The subject didn’t particularly interest me so it was really to see if I could do it—so many of my friends had. We didn’t have grades (or tests…yay!)—the professors typed in duplicate with carbon paper* their impressions of our work during the semester and the results were called term letters. In Bob’s review of my semester, he wrote, “Ms Newell can be a much better student than she thinks. She seemed to float through the course at an average level.” (Lo these many years later, I remembered this term letter pretty well but I did take a moment to find it and read it, and in the course of that found all my report cards from high school and I was right. The interesting thing was that I “cross-registered” at other high schools for many of my classes since I hated my high school so much and my parents were accommodating in hopes we could all just get through it. In those classes, my grades are mostly a full grade above the classes in my school. Interesting…but I digress.) I want to argue with Orpinela about this—I really don’t think I could have done any better and I was barely floating. I so didn’t get it and that was my last Philosophy class.
     Meanwhile, back at the ranch or the land of two yards, I have been enjoying mowing. I got the heavy-duty ear protectors and it always amazes me how loud the mower is when I take them off. I enjoy avoiding the rocks and making the to and fro passes. Last time, I mowed after a lot of wind and a little rain. I came upon a big stick in the side yard over by the shed. Getting off and moving it seemed like too much work at the time and I thought: No one else will notice and I don’t care so I mowed around it. Later, when the mower was safely stowed, I moved the stick. Today, when I step away from the computer, I will mow that patch and maybe leave others. I’m thinking the meadow-look might be a better one for we of the 80%.
     As I was pruning the hydrangea—this past winter wreaked havoc on plants, killing off or severely damaging mature shrubs etc.—I realized again that I am pretty content at a job that is done at about 80%. It just isn’t that important to me to worry all those details—all those dead branches—or maybe I don’t even see them.
     I just finished a pile of quilts for the Quilt Guild. They are distributed to folks who need them. One was a demo quilt top my first teacher Lisa made that I finished. The others are lap quilts I made and need to get out the door. I get to a point where I need to clear the decks to make room for the next project. After quilting one of them, I looked at the back as I was cutting off threads and noticed that the tension had gone awry for a short run. It’s okay. Most of it was fine. And off they go.
     (This reminded me of a quilt I had on my bed for a long time that I have moved to the guest room to make room for the next quilt I will make myself—these always wind up at the end of the list and I have been quilt-less for several years. That quilt has a few inches of binding that was never sewed down. It would take less than five minutes. Wonder why I have never done it… )
     I traveled to and from the annual Angel Island trip on Southwest Airlines. It was not a particularly impressive set of flights. All were incredibly late and not quite as friendly as I had heard they often are. When I arrived at Bob and Sara’s house at 1:30 am, I opened my luggage to find everything not only wet, but my nightgown frozen. On the return trip, instead of getting home at 1am, I got in at 7:07am. It was surprising to find people arriving for outgoing flights at the Greenville airport. I figured we had to be the only crazy people awake and at the airport at 5am and it was not our choice to be crazy. When I got some rest, I looked it up. Southwest on-time record hovers in the mid 70%. I am, apparently, above average. Ta dum!

*I am amazed with how long it took me to struggle to find the words carbon paper. How pathetic is that?

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

• I recognize that I am a person of a certain age and something that comes up is the new found freedom to hire people to do things I don’t want to do or can’t do or shouldn’t do…well, it’s really don’t want to do. At Maggie B’s the other night, Melissa said, “There are a lot of people out there who need work.” That’s another way of looking at it.
•  I have discovered a handy website that I use a lot while trying to determine the value of old books for the Book Sale at the Weaverville Library (figuring out publication dates): a roman numeral converter (http://www.onlineconversion.com/roman_numerals_advanced.htm). While it is good for my brain to do the conversion, sometimes I don’t want to.
•  Do Customer Service recordings ever say they are experiencing a lower than normal number of inquiries? Perhaps they should adjust their idea of normal so that they aren’t always spinning that recording about too many calls, too few customer service representatives.
•  Very few people have a sense of humor at 5:14am.
 I have a bone to pick with the Dewey Decimal system. On the one hand, it’s amazing. Created in 1876 and still working. Cool. On the other hand, while shelving books at the wee Weaverville Library, it is a little over the top…seven numbers beyond the decimal point for books on, for instance, basketball? This is overkill in my opinion. And it makes shelving books complicated for this pea brain. (I still think we should throw all the children’s books in a pile on the floor since they disorganize it so regularly but Jill the Librarian won’t let me do it.)
•  I was talking to someone about how our bodies sometimes know what date it is better than our minds. That is, when it is the anniversary of sad times, sometimes we feel it in our bodies before we recognize it in our minds. I believe.
•  I read some place (I fear it was Facebook…but there’s some good stuff there…favorite thing lately: Not my circus, not my monkeys…a Polish Proverb) that we need to start respecting ourselves as we respect others and talk to ourselves as we would others. I like that. I am trying to cut out the self criticism monologue I have going in my head.
• It is apparently a well known fact that Budget Rent a Car is a pain in the neck. They are notorious for “nickel and dime-ing” their customers. I have had my introduction to this phenomenon and thought I would share my experience so you might avoid it. I opened a dispute with my credit card, which they dropped saying I didn’t provide enough proof. I disagree but only have so much oomph in me to argue it. The dispute wound up being over a little more than $30 after Budget reversed a bunch of miscellaneous charges when they were told I was disputing them. They held firm that, though I returned the car with a full tank, I needed to buy another full tank. Just because. It’s the principle of the thing for me. As the daughter of a man who used to say I have the money and the time to fight you, I come by this honestly. My recommendation would be to stay far away from Budget.
•  And while I am complaining about major corporations, why is Apple trying to make their operating system as controlling as PCs? I am wrestling with my new laptop and somehow, I don’t think I am going to win.
•  I had another great visit to the San Francisco Bay Area. I have to say in print—thanks for being such good hosts, great friends, longtime supporters. I love you very much. Just wish I had the stamina to live there, but visiting is a good back up.
•  My accountant Laura said she hadn’t heard from me in a while. Where’s the PNewS? Here it is, my friend.

A Raccoon Ate My Vitamins

     This year’s Angel Island Picnic, our 33rd, was another rousing success. A smaller crowd, we had a stunning day—warm, sunny, no fog, the occasional light breeze, hot sand, cold water, cold beer, good food. Camping, our 19th, was also a stellar time. Except for those lousy raccoons. They have gotten quite aggressive. One got into my tent (the zipper was only open a few inches but they can apparently deal with that), ate my dried mango slices and most of my vitamin D and E, skipping the fish oil. Weird, eh? The next night, one got into Bob and Sara’s tent by chewing through the screen. I found the large collection of pinecones in the vicinity a painless way to keep them at bay. It was also very satisfying.

PNewL PNewS 22.1

 

PNewL PNewS

Volume 22 No. 1                                         “All the pnews that phits.”                                                        April 2014

 

Instead

     I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you about my recent trip to Southern Africa. It was big and multi-faceted. Legendary anti-apartheid leaders! Folks doing amazing work! Animals! Birds in beautiful colors with bizarre bone structure! And good people, fun times and excellent food in humongous quantities. But it’s been a struggle to nail a story that will illustrate the total package. So I’m not going to here and now, but maybe later. One day soon, I will post pictures—they tell many stories. For now, I’m going to tell you my latest aha story, which is probably a repeat of an earlier aha story but I suppose I needed to hear it again.

     I love it when seemingly unrelated things happen that add up to something I need to be reminded of (sorry about that preposition and all sentences that end in prepositions). Maybe in the news, or a line in a book or something someone I know and love or only kinda like says or writes, and I get to hear it again—practically see it in neon with bells ringing—and hope that this time it will stick.

     Laurey Masterton was a local hero in Asheville. She has had such an impact on so many people in town that the most popular bumper sticker is now “Don’t Postpone Joy,” her (among others’) motto. I am always in awe of and inspired by people who have that effect on folks. While the whole joy thing is a bit foreign to me, I totally get not postponing things. I hear too many people waiting for stuff or putting things off. It scares me. Time has a way of taking control. I may not be a joy-filled person but I am really working on prioritizing better. You come too. By the way, Ms. Masterton died after a long battle with a bunch of cancers. She didn’t postpone much based on what I have heard about her. So that was Part I: Don’t Postpone (and work on the joy part.)

     Then I got an email from my really smart friend Becky. What she said specifically isn’t important but the gist of it has set me free. It’s kinda like my friend Gini, another really smart friend, who always says—“I want to be the kind of person who wants to live in a foreign country [or whatever it is], but I’m not” and Becky goes on to say she supports folks who are doing those things that she doesn’t really want to do but knows are important and then we can in a way feel like we are part of it but we don’t have to do it. Part II: Allay the pressure to do good work that really isn’t my kinda work: Provide back-up (support, cash, goods, moral support) to folks who are good at it and are moved to do it.

     And then I was cleaning out my email inbox and finally deleted a stack of emails from Billy, yet another really smart person, who really wants me to be involved with some political work in North Carolina, and I so want to be that person for Billy but really, I’m not. I will support him and his gang, knowing he will do it well and get on the ground help from others, and I will try to remember to do the things that get me closer to Joy. A bit of a circuitous route, but I hope you followed along.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• What I said to Mary as she is planning her African Adventure: Enjoy the planning part. I find on these trips where others are in charge of the logistics, I lose some of the connection and I miss that part.

• The open house party at the double-wide—to celebrate Ray and to get some help in figuring out what to do with it—was fun. The water was off which wound up being fine—no one stayed long enough to need to use the potty. Jeff who loves to tease me, suggested I turn it into a brothel, meth lab, gambling den, or sports bar. Patsy and Ernie said they watched enough “Breaking Bad” episodes they think they could help with the meth lab suggestion. Other ideas were short term or long term rentals, or as an artist in residence residence, a space for workshops and yoga classes. And the last idea was a neighborhood clubhouse with overflow housing... We shall see!

• Sculley fixed the frozen plumbing at the double-wide and the pressure tank blew...a bit of deferred maintenance, I fear! I think I will run into a fair amount of that.

• Based on the experience, I really think I deserve more than 11,000 miles for flying to and from South Africa. It’s a heckuva long trip.

• An ad above my emails (gmail) when I was looking at a close up picture of a lot of wrinkles on my face was for a skin tightener. This is scary.

• I have been trying to get the PNewS done and got lost in the TRAVEL folder on my computer. Surprise, surprise!

This Mowing Life

My career as a Rider of Mower has begun. Jeff, who is getting a lot of press in this issue, gave me a lesson despite never having done it himself. Wish my brain worked that way. This has been a huge but fascinating learning curve. It is not terribly intuitive, in my humble opinion, but I am beginning to panic less frequently and I haven’t run over Roger the extremely black dog who can get lost in shadows.

     I think Jeff wasn’t totally convinced I would actually finish mowing the double yards (mine and the doublewide) before it was time to start all over. He and Susan had to help me get off a stump I had impaled the mower on early on Day 1. But I did finish, and right before it started raining! Yippee!

     Despite the tremendous noise (I am wearing lightweight ear protection and will be getting heavier duty in the near future), I find it satisfyingly meditative. And I am learning so much, like…there was a reason Ray cut down all the cute little flowers in the grass—going around them is absurd…being a novice mower means my weed-whacking time is going to increase, and in case you were wondering, I don’t find that satisfyingly meditative… I can see that this is something I will get better at, and while the grass looks like it had a pretty mediocre haircut, it’s not that bad…for the first time in a long time, I am doing something that I think might be even better while stoned, but since I don’t do that any more, I am looking for volunteers to test my theory—every two weeks til early October…

Another Goodbye 

Muddy the 13+ year old mini Maltese monster left us last week. While he was only with me for eight months, I really loved the little devil. He was SO much work. Nothing in him worked, and I had to help and clean up and coddle him and put up with the snarling and biting and dementia and I loved him all the same. He had gobs of personality, and, heck, he loved me back. I am so grateful for our time together. Bon voyage Mudster! 

     On the upside, Roger and I are reveling in the simplicity of life without the monster. Roger has become this amazing affectionate, energetic, devoted dog (and did I mention he has lost 25 lbs. since I got him?). Yesterday, he went wacko in the creek—scampering over rocks and going boldly into the water. He’s a new guy. Thank heavens he is only four years old. 

     There is one unfortunate side of him: he is a hunter, both inside and out. Outside, well, you know. Inside, it’s for anything edible. So far, he has dumped the garbage (multiple times), gotten on the dining room table (only once that I know of), and has pulled anything he can off the kitchen counter (regularly). The last incident was chewing the lining of my winter jacket pocket out to get at biscuits contained therein. The dog whisperer said this isn’t going to change. I’m hoping she’s wrong.

“Even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway. Wade straight through it—right through the cesspool while keeping eyes and hearts open.” Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

So much to say, so little time to write it

I had hoped to write something along the way but apparently there just aren't enough hours in the day. I could've worked on it while waiting for dinner or lunch to arrive (dinners tended to take 3 hours, lunches a wee bit less with a group of between 11-18. We don,t want to think everyone in South Africa has to wait so long!)

Yesterday, Amelie and I collected the rental car and left our group/family of the previous eleven days. It has been an adjustment. I miss them. It is hard to believe we won't have the camaraderie at breakfast, Betsy counting to make sure we are all here, an excursion to meet people/see stuff/do things. Ah yes, change is good but this one was unsettling.

The group part of the African Adventure is over. We traveled with South Africa Partners to Johannesburg, East London, and Cape Town (I so want that to be one word), meeting remarkable leaders of the anti-apartheid movement, similarly remarkable workers in education and healthcare (but less famous), and having a remarkable time. The sights were great, the food was delicious (I've now eaten kudu, impala, ostrich, springbok, and wildebeest.), and the company was stimulating.

Note: It is now a three weeks later and I am home and working on a wrap-up of the trip. I'm going to post this anyway, but know it was meant to be longer and maybe I will remember what I meant to say.

Special time and place

Greetings from Kirkman's Kamp in Sabi Sands near Kruger National Park! It,s bucketing down rain and we are 45 minutes or so from departure on the afternoon game drive. Yesterday, we drove in the rain for an hour plus (not rain like this but enough to make me pretty darn miserable). I had to keep saying, at least it,s not cold! Eventually it stopped raining and we saw a giraffe - hyena meeting/stand off, zebras snuggling, and a bright green chameleon...it was worth a little grumbling...

Today, we went in search of leopard. We left our tracker off to do his thing and while it took some time, he succeeded. Mama and baby...well, not baby but offspring. It was amazing. When he radioed that he'd found her (we were hanging out watching three male lions sleep which is more entertaining than it sounds), he said mama growled at him. Later, I asked him if that was scary and he nodded emphatically. Amazing!

Well, it' s our 5th opportunity to eat, so I will leave you. I will work on posting some pictures...

Quick Question

Google has taken control of blogspot in such a way that I can't login with my original login that has the administrative rights. So I can't figure out how to change, for instance, the photo on my home page. Help!!


Editor,s note?..figured it out on the front porch of the lodge at Kirkman's Kamp! Woohoo!

PNewL PNewS Volume 21, Issue #4

PNewL PNewS

Volume 21 No. 4                  “All the pnews that phits.”                 January 2014
____________________________________________________________________

So Long My Friend

     For a long time now, my mantra has been Change is Good. Recently, I feel like I need to add something to it. Change is life and life is good, considering the alternatives? And so the equation says Change is good. Something like that.
     In December, my dear friend and neighbor Ray died. It has been a significant shift in my life. He was always there. I could count on his lights being on and there was comfort in that. He was always willing to chat, he loved Muddy and there are few who can say that, and he had the most optimistic view of the world and being old and living near the branch. And it was a mutual admiration society—he liked me back.
     He came to me a while back and said he’d mow my lawn and if I offered to pay him, he wouldn’t do it. So for four summers, he mowed, I made him lemonade or ice water, gave him gift cards to Ingles (groceries or gas)—not officially paying him--and we chatted out amongst the rocks and stubble. This past summer, I had to put out little flags on all the big rocks because he kept hitting them and messing up the blade of his mower. He always said you couldn’t stick a knitting needle in that dirt without hitting a rock. He said a lot of things. I wish I could remember them all—they were quotable. He left me the lawn mower. His brother said Ray talked about how I wanted to learn to ride it and he really needed to teach me…maybe next summer.
     I still check for his lights to be on and while I am glad to find them off (since I am the only one with keys), it’s a hard habit to break, checking up on Ray. I have the keys because he asked me to buy his house from him and let him live in it. We did that and I am so glad we did. He had a challenging relationship with his children and he didn’t want them to have any more of his hard earned money. I was challenged by their behavior and so it was fine with me that I wouldn’t have to deal with them after he died. Au contraire! I did get to deal with them and like all good horror stories…it was cold and drizzly and dark and things went bump in the night. It all worked out in the end (well, it isn’t over yet!), but there were several nights when I could swear I heard the twang of Deliverance banjos.
     So now the dust is starting to settle. The house is empty, its flaws are starting to show. Decisions need to be made as well as repairs. When Laurie was here for Christmas, we went over the see if it would make a good vacation home for her, and my knitting group met there once—it has a nice cozy feel to it. I’m having a party there next week to celebrate Ray and to ask folks what they think I should do with the house. It’s a modified manufactured home/double-wide kinda in my side yard so I want to be careful about who is there and for how long. I’m thinking short term rentals. Gini thinks Redneck Hideaway may offend someone. I was thinking about describing it as an opportunity to live like the locals…I could include the use of my 21 year old pick up truck..and heck, they could get a discount if they mow the lawn. I have the mower for it!

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

• Wanna push my buttons? Accuse me of not taking care of my property. I just learned that while talking to my insurance agent who said that since no one is living in The Vacation Home (the doublewide), the insurance co. assumes it will deteriorate and fall down. Boy, did I strongly suggest otherwise. My reaction surprised the heck out of the agent and me too. I apologized.
• I had a crafting day with three friends, then Loveeta and I made cards one afternoon. I need to do that kind of thing more often. If I invite them, they will come. It’s fun and inspiring what people come up with.
• Ray’s brother put all kinds of stuff in the "garbage" and knowing Ray, I knew that meant a lot of re-useable stuff was going to the landfill. I offered to deal with it for the brother. I went through 16 huge garbage bags of garbage...and some of it WAS garbage (two cans-full) and the rest is going to recycling or the homeless shelter or the hard-to-recycle event. Yay.
• In December, I took Muddy to the groomer. When she took him from me she said, oh he is so matted, I am going to have to cut it short. When I picked him up he was almost bald—I gasped and felt like crying--and all I could say to him was I am SOOOO sorry. I don’t know about caring for a dog with these maintenance issues. A month later, it’s growing back but it is still short and it’s cold and he has stuff no one really wants to see that his coat covered up. Live and learn.
• I always say I don't like kids, but at the library last week I realized, I like individual kids (as long as they don’t stay too long), just not mobs of them that I don't know. The little voices that talk to the librarians are hilarious. It’s kind of like an ongoing Art Linkletter’s Kids say the Darndest Things.
• Speaking of the Library…I have been culling the children’s books—removing anything that hasn’t gone out in two years. It has been a wee bit disappointing that most of the books I pull have people of color on the covers. This isn’t always true…last week I came across a patriotic one that hadn’t been out in ages.
• And Speaking of the Library Part II, I chaired my first meeting of the Friends of the Weaverville Library Board. I was so pleased to remember to take the wooden mallet I had made in a wood turning class. It’s gone mostly unused since I made it and it allowed me to mask my lack of knowledge of Robert’s Rules of Order.
• If you are in a neighborhood with dogs, don’t throw out 5 pounds of flour into your backyard. The dogs will eat it…or maybe it’s just my dogs. By now they are mostly eating leaves with a sprinkling of flour.
• I was at CVS recently stocking up for my upcoming trip and noticed they have Cherry flavored Pepto Bismol! When I need Pepto, do I really want something with fake cherry flavoring???
• In response to my issue with saying No, Ginger sent me a button I can push that says No! no! nooooo! in lots of different voices. It makes me laugh—and it makes the dogs leave the room.
• Laurie came to visit for Christmas. It was fun—it made Christmas feel different. We didn’t do too much Christmas stuff but we did get to sleuth. I s’pose this is kinda hush hush but we were instructed to take pictures of the homes of some folks who are in trouble with the State of Maine. I had this weird sensation they might come out and hurt us, but they aren’t those kinds of bad guys.

Africa Ho!

     I am going to South Africa (and Botswana and Zambia and Zimbabwe) in a couple weeks. Wow. I have to keep saying it to make it real. I am watching me in my process and it is so predictable. It all feels really big and I have to break it down into little bits and pieces. Getting from one bit to another piece is not always a smooth transition. And then of course, all those projects on my To Do list for months feel like they need to be done before I can go. Things are a little all over the place these days. Frustration with the travel agent hasn’t helped but that relationship is just about finished so I can look forward with enthusiasm.
        Lions and well, no not tigers and then again no bears either but…heck, lots of other things! Going through my camera stuff, I came across a memory card for my older camera that is 512mb. Really? I just bought one that is 16gb and could have gotten a bigger one! Looking at my luggage I wonder if I have exactly the piece I need. Of course, I do, but it doesn’t seem exactly right and I won’t be buying anything else.
     One of the luggage conundrums has to do with “light aircraft” travel which is how one gets to places where one might see the aforementioned lions and lots of other things. It is hard for me who has never done this before to picture where these itty bitty bags that we are restricted to go (though there are actually pictures in the paperwork, I just noticed).  And thank heavens I don’t weigh more than 220 lbs. or I would need special permission to board the plane! I just finished “Whatever you do, don’t run!” which is a memoir written by a safari guide in Botswana and South Africa (Have I read all the books recommended by the organization I will be traveling with? No, but this fluff? Gobbled it up!), and the writer wrote about a load of clients that almost crashed because they had brought more weight than they were allowed. It says in my paperwork that the limits are really plenty when you consider that most camps have plenty of “basic toilet amenities.”  Hmm—what does that mean?!? And I can save some space as I don’t own a track suit (on their recommended packing list…) and don’t plan on buying one.
    And so the ongoing conversation with myself will continue like this until I am there and otherwise distracted. Aren’t you glad you don’t live in my head? More on the return.

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Note: The following may be a repeat, but obviously I don’t care. It seemed to be appropriate and I like it.

 "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain