PNewL PNewS Vol 19 #3

[Once again, trouble with blogspot and too impatient. This is all supposed to be in Times, the larger part is all supposed to be the same size as this and this is not supposed to be in itals! And because I couldn't get the print to come out right, we are now "pretty in pink"...maybe easier to read for some. Heck, that makes me glad!)

PNewL PNewS

Volume 19 No. 3 “All the pnews that phits."”July 2011

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• On occasion, I read or write a sentence that feels to me to be...perfect. No, not perfect, maybe classic or memorable or something I am truly proud of or when someone else wrote it, enviable. When I was in CA, Karen took me to Cafe Gratitude, a vegan restaurant that is part of a small chain. The food was fab. I bought the cookbook. At home, I told people I was going to become a teetotalling vegan. (I'm getting to the sentence, don't worry.) I bought the ingredients for two recipes and the bill came to almost $30. I am too cheap, but I could move the alcohol budget to ridiculously expensive nuts (it's a lot about nuts.) Midst cooking I emailed Betsy about the vegan thing and in response to her response, I wrote the following. The last sentence struck me as a winner. "Vegan is a concept. I loved the food at the restaurant, really like the idea of being nicer to my body and enjoy cooking, but...reality? I will always revere bacon."

• Someone asked me about my fly fishing class. FYI: I caught the first, the biggest and the most fish. Since Martha wasn't there, probably. The first time my Dad took me fishing, Martha caught all the bass, I caught the rock bass. I quit fishing for decades.

• 30th Annual Angel Island Picnic &16th year of Camping Report: Success! Who knows how many people were there. We did a Hands Across the Sand line, holding hands in support of clean energy/less reliance on fossil fuels, and in photos (by Sara, see below) you can't hardly see the people at the far end. I realized, looking around at our far flung crowd, that I probably only knew half of the picnickers as the next generation is showing up with their own crowds. That warms my heart. Looks like this could live on for a while.

Camping was a hit as well with a small crowd on Friday and 27 on Saturday. A new wrinkle was added when we didn't get the usual array of campsites, and the lion's share of the campers were at the group site. The wind tunnel effect there made Bob and Sara's towering tent a great source of entertainment as it was buffeted by the gale force. All in all, a good time was had.

• Mother Nature's minions continue to rampage in Ox Creek. I have told too many people too much about my recent experience as a chicken tender for Sculley and Loveeta's chickens. Suffice it to say, weasel in the hen house. You can paint your own picture. Chris and Sculley found a copperhead on the tarp over their pond when they returned from being away. I took a cool picture of bear (the animal, not the extremely large hound) paws and two sizes of raccoon paws in the mud. A small painted turtle has been trying to lay eggs in my driveway. Oh and bunnies bunnies everywhere which I am told will attract coyotes. It's a busy place!

• I have some friends who credit Pollyanna for their upbeat and optimistic view of the world. Needing an attitude adjustment in that direction, I got the book on tape out of the library and had a surprisingly enjoyable time listening. A good attitude adjustment indeed. And the next day, I noticed a sign going into Asheville that reads, "Asheville -- we're glad you are here!" American Airlines is glad to have me. She's everywhere! Meanwhile, I am working on being more glad, and it seems to be working.

• Sometimes I make a minor purchase that makes my day. This one made my weekend. When I started packing for Angel Island, I couldn’t find the stuff sack for my sleeping bag. Sue was kind enough to schlep me to REI in Marin, where I found a stuff sack…lined in fleece so you can turn it inside out and make it a pillowcase. BRILLIANT and oh so cozy.

• Cousin John recommended a book, Collapse: How societies choose to fail or succeed by Jared Diamond. I want to be a person who reads those kinds of books, but I am not though I can listen to them, which I am now thanks to the Public Library. It is a very good book, thank you John. Today’s learning thing: I am so glad there are people out there doing the stuff I would never do, like study pollen or count rings on cut trees or try to figure out what year the Anasazi were cutting down trees and building their homes or where the stone came from for the big heads on Easter Island. To those who have focused on these and other oddities, I mean niches (ahem Bob the spider man), I am grateful.

The Reluctant Gardener

It got hot in Western North Carolina earlier than it needed to, in my humble opinion. Bear took to the cool linoleum in the afternoons and I turned on the AC briefly to take the stifle off. About that climate change discussion... Meanwhile, there was a minor setback in my war on the weeds. Just because I didn't want to be out there didn't mean there wasn't activity. Sigh.

I finally planted the raised bed and have too many peppers and tomatoes though I really can't imagine there is such a thing. Little tiny arugula have popped up! And the bird house gourds look pretty happy. A few herbs round out this year's crop. We'll see if it bears fruit, er vegetables, er gourds.

While the happy crop of blueberries has come and gone, the raspberries just keep chugging along. Yay! And two apples are clinging for life on the new tree. Next year, I will prune it so it doesn’t look quite so pathetic. Sometimes I lose the details of all this stuff!

On the decorative front, I became aware of the Mountain Laurel recently. I don't know what planet I've been on that I hadn't noticed these dark green shiny leaved bushes with the lovely little space age looking flowers. This may be rhododendron country, but put me down as a mountain laurel fan. When David and his family gave me a gift certificate at the local nursery for my birthday, I took it right on over and scouted their supply and there she was, freshly watered and weighing in at about 50 lbs. (the nice young nurseryman said it was 20; I said, are you high? This baby's heavy.) I hesitated--she was also pricey. But she was the only native and she was sweetly festooned in hundreds of light pink delicate little flowers. She had to be mine.

I lugged her home and attempted to dig her hole near the bottom of the new deck. Surprise! Tree root. I moved further away. Surprise! Rock...a big one. Sir Baru and I surveyed the estate in search of another spot. She landed near the driveway. For those of you who have been reading for many years and retain such things, you might remember Max Wilson the Boxwood, the last pricey bush in the family. (Wilson from the Tom Hanks movie where he named the volleyball and Max because Nina wanted to do one of those SAT-type problems: Wilson is to volleyball as X is to boxwood. She determined in this case that X was Max. Max was a good name and Max Wilson is better though Jack thought it was a little formal--giving a bush a last name.) My laurel needed a name and it was obvious to me what it should be: Rachel, after my favorite teacher in my high school ironically named Laurel School. Rather than a last name, I think she will just be Rachel the Laurel. If someone tells me that Laurels are either male or female and mine is male, well, just don't. I can continue to live in my own little dream world.

Friends, Can you spare a dime or…more?

Every once in a while I come up with an organization I think everyone would want to support. This is another one of those times. This time I have a new tactic.

(Thanks to those of you who already have supported this …you may stop reading now.)

Think of all the money I have saved you in the past. I never got married so there has been no engagement shower, no wedding shower, no wedding present, no Bachelorette party. No baby showers, no mitzvahs of any sort or first communions or wrapping paper drives or cookie sales or sports or…well, I have been a pretty cheap date….er friend all these years.

And so I offer you the opportunity to assuage your guilt in not spending much on me over the years, and support a good cause at the same time, plus a tax deduction. Win win win!

I have been on the fundraising team for Women Build at Habitat for Humanity this year. We were a lively bunch with lots of ideas and limited follow through. I admit I sat back and watched this high powered group spin their wheels, assuming they were going to get the job done. Now, we are short of funds and frankly, I am tired of it. (And tired of the meetings!) Should you be inclined to respond to this downright begging, you can donate online at:

https://secure.sitemason.com/www.ashevillehabitat.org/donations/authorize_net_CCform

(under gift details, drop down to Women Build 2011)

[or google Asheville Habitat, click on Donate Now, specify Women Build 2011]

or send a check to Betsy Warren at

Asheville Area Habitat for Humanity
33 Meadow Rd. Asheville, NC 28803

I doubt anyone would believe it, but writing that was hard and I am glad I did it and I am glad it’s over. (Sounds Pollyanna-ish with all that glad) I appreciate you giving me your time. Now give Habitat your money. Ha!

"Housekeeping for me was event-driven, not something I did systematically or often.”

A Year of Cats and Dogs / Margaret Hawkins

PNewL PNewS Vol 19 issue 2

PNewL PNewS

Volume 19 No. 2 “All the pnews that phits.” May 2011

Mucking about in Haiti

May 1: It seems important to write this while emotions and memories are still fresh. I was part of an educational delegation to Haiti this past week and have come back a changed person. It was one of the more remarkable trips, if not the most remarkable, I have taken. I can't remember ever learning as much in one week as I did last week—about Haiti and agriculture and history and oh everything.

I met some of our group in the Ft Lauderdale airport, the rest at Matthew 25, our guest house in Port au Prince. The trip organizer was Stephen from Agricultural Missions, an ecumenical organization that supports rural impoverished folks. Stephon was our videographer. Gary and Bonnie came by way of the United Church of Canada involved in investing their charitable dollars in grassroots groups, and Monica and Eric have been working in Haiti for several years--they were looking to widen their network. Andriana is writing a book on farmers and fishers in the Americas, and me? Just doing the Peggy-thing. (Actually, I have been part of a learning circle on Haiti and I wasn't getting it via conference calls so when the opportunity appeared to see the place, I jumped. I am an experiential learner and this was an experience to learn from.)

We travelled around in a heavy duty Toyota...not sure what...but it had facing bench seats in the back and it was apparently made for the miserable roads of rural and, come to think of it, urban Haiti. Our driver, Carrell, was a master at his job though a bit lead-footed for my taste. I swear my butt is bruised, but I can't confirm that as I am too old to contort myself in that way.

Haiti is a beautiful country. As Paul Farmer's book title says, there are "Mountains Beyond Mountains," and it's in the Caribbean for crikey's sake. But its history is the poster child for "whatever can go wrong will go wrong" and there's plenty of blame to go around--the good old USA is on the list. I learned on this trip that, to paraphrase what Amy and Dan used to say to their kids, I love my country but sometimes I don't like it very much.

We met with farmers to hear about the challenges facing them. A laundry list. Who knew life could be so hard? And yet, they keep on and come up with some creative solutions and work together to make change. Go team go! There's a heckuva long way to go. I was heartened to hear Monica who has worked there for five years say that she was impressed with the amount of hope Haitians have. What a spirit. In my way, I said, if I lived here, I would move.

In Haiti, there is a lack of water--people walk forever to get potable water. Water for irrigation is a huge issue and so we saw cisterns that different folks have designed to solve some of the problems, though standing water in a country ripe with malaria is another issue. As a woman who works at the guest house said, Nothing is easy in Haiti.

Several weeks later: The memories of my visit to Haiti continue to bubble up as the distraction of life here has taken over. I printed a picture Stephon took of a family who was displaced by the earthquake and put it next to my computer. Two adults--the woman: beautiful beaming smile, neatly dressed sitting on a stool outside a recently finished mud structure--their new home--which hadn't been sealed yet; the man seemingly less able to deal with health issues and their conditions living in a tattered tent and this new structure--accompanied by their six children. They wanted to stay in the countryside but they had...nothing. The children were naked as their clothes were drying on the bushes behind them.

Looking at this woman, I felt she could have been a friend of mine had the cards been dealt differently. Without being able to communicate in words, there was something in her smile that said it will be ok. The hope of which Monica spoke. As we left her, I cried for her and her family and the rains that were coming that would pelt her unsealed mud home. Now from miles away, I look at her smile every morning and work on being hopeful for her every single day.

We stayed with a group of Brazilian farmers who were on a long term exchange—there are Haitian farmers living in Brazil too. Their hope and belief that working together they can make a difference was inspiring. This is not easy living. And they are young men, in the prime of their lives. Stephen said that the leader of the group had been knocked down by not one but two illnesses since we were there. We did a little work around the compound. Bonnie and I watered their garden—the guys brought water in large containers in a wheel barrow. We hand watered with little containers. Meanwhile, other guys were digging a well, sending up buckets of dirt with a pulley. They dug a perfectly round hole 13 meters deep when they finally hit water, several days after our return. Nothing is easy in Haiti.

I could go on and on with stories and we were only there for a week. The kitchen gardens growing in inside-out truck tires. The mangoes…ah the mangoes! The mosquitoes—ah the mosquitoes! The unusual celebration of Easter with dancing in the street and some pretty serious party going on. The visit to the Cholera ward. Driving into Port au Prince in a blinding rain storm past tent cities. Little bit of up, lots of down, with a hearty sprinkling of hope.

Reminder: Angel Island #30 is coming up on June 25.

Be there or be square.

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

• When I saw my birthday on the horizon, I thought about what I would like to receive and I realized, as we probably all do, I don't need stuff, and what I would really like is help. So I went to Chris and asked this master gardener if she would help me in the garden, and I went to Sculley and asked if he would hang a light fixture, and I asked Allison if she would paint my front door just like hers. And they all said yes. And I was thrilled by the results. I hope they are too!

• On occasion, a perfectly healthy house plant just dies. Nothing has changed. I feel like it is suicide. Very strange.
• Recently I met a man I found interesting and charming and thoughtful and caring. It was so refreshing. It's been a long time. It was also comforting to know they are out there. The fact that he is geographically undesirable, married, and oh there was another hurdle which escapes my mind at this time, is besides the point. Meanwhile, my 80 year old neighbor says if only I were a little bit older...
• Spring has sprung and really only teases us as summer is looming large, heating our afternoons like an industrial oven, but in the cool mornings, all sorts of critters are peeking out at us when we walk. We seem to have a bumper crop of bunnies and almost as many squirrels. Two beautiful little turtles have been spotted, but the big dog doesn't seem to care. Yesterday, I saw the deer before Baru Bear, but when they saw each other, I felt there was an acknowledgment of a family resemblance there.
• What to say about a recent infatuation with standing in a cold stream in waders, watching the water rush by? I had no idea how comforting that experience could be! When a few different situations converged (I am trying to get Peter to visit and thought if I learned to fish, he might come; my neighbor has a fly fishing store; my friend Betsy is an avid fisherwoman), I found myself in the above situation...oh yeah and with a rod in my hand flicking a line back and forth, hoping nothing bit including a tree branch. It was...surprisingly delightful.
• US households use 17 billion rolls of toilet paper every year.
• I was listening to a trashy chick lit audio book recently when it described a character as one who only thought of food as fuel. He would be happy if he could take a pill instead of hassling with meals. I thought...that would work for me. Don't get me wrong. I love good food. I even like some junk food (not fast food)-- I like to eat. But, there're times when it would be handy if mealtime was over without a thought. It made me wonder, if there were a pill that was healthy--this is fantasy. Don't think red dye #whatever or long term effect on inner organs--would that appeal...on occasion? How often? I thought about it and realized, breakfast and lunch are not a problem but there are probably a couple nights a week when foraging for food in my pantry and fridge takes more time than my attention span. This is a poll. How about you?
• I am running out of space so The Reluctant Gardener report will have to wait til next time. Suffice it to say, I work hard in the garden and then ignore it for lengths of time. Still figuring this all into my life. I have gotten a handful of blueberries already!!
  

It's a blow to have to admit to yourself that you are not quite cut out for something that matters so much to you.

Gabrielle Hamilton, Blood Bones and Butter

PNewL PNewS Volume 19 No. 1

PNewL PNewS

Volume 19 #1 All the pnews that phits March 2011

Surprise, Surprise!

I am still trying to figure out how I want to describe my latest adventure out in the world. Here's what I have come up with: Betsy, my mentor in travel, emailed a while back and said, Wanna go to Mali? I said, Well, if you could give me some suggestions of WHY I would want to go to Mali, maybe I would wanna go. Later, she said, How about Morocco? I said, Ok. And signed up with the Australian lower budget tour company Betsy had scoped out.

I find when I go on trips with a leader and fellow travelers, I do less research. I want to be the kind of person who reads epic histories of the countries I visit, but I'm not. If I read the history in the guidebook I am doing well. On a tour (ouch, I don't like that word!), I may not even read about the places I am going until the night before. There, I said it. So when I got to Morocco and had a marvelous time in this lovely country filled with lots of wonderfully friendly people, you can imagine how pleased I was. We saw mountains and deserts and oceans white with foam...ah...I get carried away--because it is easy to do about Morocco. Who knew?

One fun aspect was that our group included folks from Argentina, Chile, Germany, and Australia, with Betsy and me the only Americans. We were also the oldest. Our leader was a handsome Moroccan who we called Betsy's boy toy. Despite the lower price tag, I would say the trip was almost flawless. Things kinda fell apart in the end but that has been known to happen on trips that cost way more than what we paid.

After a few experiments in public transport, we climbed into our little bus and zipped around the country. We did a loop, starting in Casablanca and ending in Marrakech (I still get a kind of thrill from saying these exotic names) with stops in the capital Rabat, the market city of Fez, the Sahara Desert (complete with a camel ride), the Moroccan Hollywood, the High Atlas mountains, and the beaches of Essaouira. Awesome, all of it.

After dinner at the Italian restaurant in the Marrakech train station, I climbed on the overnight train to Tangier (that sounds a bit exotic too!) to a taxi to a bus to a ferry to Spain. I spent the next bunch of days wandering around Andalusia: Granada, Sevilla, Cordoba. Then, after a way too fast train ride, I fell in love...with Barcelona. I met up with cousin Bill and then friend Bonnie, and we saw as many of the sights as we could. It was hard to wipe the smile off my face. The buildings, the walking streets, it's such a scene!

The element of surprise--not knowing what to expect from Morocco and knowing the concept of Gaudi in Barcelona but not being able to fathom the reality of it--made this trip a gem. Wonder where I should surprise myself next?

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

• Under the heading, “I did it so you don’t have to,” I stopped at a fast food spot (ok, it was Burger King) because of a tight scheduling situation. The parking lot was a nightmare. The drive thru line—the reason I went there rather than some place where I had to park and go in—was worse…so I parked and went in. Inside was a strange land. The menu on the wall only contained part of the options. I guess one is supposed to already know it all. I asked for something with grilled chicken. I got fried and I am still not certain whether it was chicken or fish—it had no discernible texture. To add insult to injury, it cost almost $7…for bad food. A better idea beforehand than after, I will try to remember that next time so I don’t do it again. • I wish trips didn't end in the airport. Flying and airports have become such a challenge.

• No matter how well I know and love someone there will always be parts that are kinda surprising and foreign.

• Explaining time changes to a dog is impossible despite how tempting it is to try. He knows when it gets light. What difference does it make what time it is?

• Two geese flying north. There is hope.

• When I showed up at Habitat for Humanity Women Build this year--my third--I said to the two construction supervisors that I was pleased to see that we were greying at the same rate. Seeing someone each year for a couple months, I never know what changes might happen.

• The green of spring still surprises amazes amuses and pleases. 'Course it's going down to the low 30s tonight. I hope the green doesn't mind.

• Happy anniversary PNewL PNewS! You are 19!!!

• Relationships. sigh. So confusing. And we are all so different in relationship. That's both comforting and confusing.

• Lesson I can’t learn—if I dread something, it usually winds up being fun.

• A word Bear will never understand: love. It is a word he hears more than almost all others—and he will never know what it means. On second thought, he might think it means food or walk or ride in the car (his favorite things).

• If you want to see my pictures of Morocco and Spain, I can send the link. It’s on Kodak’s website and I am not sure how to include the link here.

“I am not an alpha dog” or “I am fine just the way I am”

I quilt because I like it. I like to make something that I like to look at and is comforting and is appreciated by the recipient. I quilt or knit or bake or make stuff in general because I like to do stuff with my hands. I like to feel engaged in a project. I do not quilt to be better than others, for awards or even to perfect my skills. I have little ambition in quilting— come to think of it, I don't have much ambition...period. And the funny part is that I finally figured it out. Another Thing I am Learning?

Recently I got roped into being the Program Chair of the Asheville Quilt Guild. What was I thinking? Again, I would like to be the kind of person who did well in meetings and on Boards, but I am not. Anyway, the fun part of the job is that I get to hang out with the really great quilting teachers that are coming to town. Last week, I hung out with and took a class from the very talented and quite pleasant to hang out with Philippa Naylor. She was the one who said the words I could finally hear about my...condition.

Philippa is a wildly precise and picky and...am I allowed to say this in a G-rated publication?...anal quilter. Matter of fact, she is that way in real life—and I think she would agree with that description. I mean she gave the six steps (I think it was six) she uses for applying lipstick that stays on all day—detail oriented chick! After showing some of the intricate processes she uses to create the gigantic intricate quilts she makes, she said (something like), You don't have to do what I do. Do what you like to do. It's about enjoying the experience. And I do and she does and we do it oh-so-differently. As the saying goes, that's what makes horse races, or in this case, quilt shows.

Trained as a fashion designer, Philippa is a talented technician with the sewing machine. She says her competence is often one of the things that set her apart. No kidding. In talking about how she makes her seams lie really flat she had gobs of tips including using really teeny needles with hair-like thread. I so want to be someone who cares on that level, but, woe is me, I am not. And I’m ok, she’s ok.

In a same-same-only different vein, my neighbor Jeff insists that I am not an alpha dog (neither is his wife) like it is a fact and on another level, something I should want to be. I thought it was funny when he said it and then I thought I should want to be the alpha dog! Now, with my new perspective (!), who cares? Yay

Calendar Alert: Angel Island Picnic #30 is coming up on June 25. Be there or be square.

"We do not quit playing because we grow old, we grow old because we quit playing." Oliver Wendell Holmes

PNewL PNewS Vol 18 #5

Winter again? So soon? Didn’t we just do this?

Exactly a year ago, I posted “Commentary on Winter.” I feel like I was just about to repeat it. As Bear and I were coming ‘round on our second or perhaps third walk yesterday, I thought, I don’t remember choosing to live in a climate like this. Obviously I chose to live here but the winters were described differently. We have been hammered three times or so thus far this season but who can keep track. I have called in “unable to get out of my driveway” at the Library and Riverlink more often than I have appeared in the last couple months. I feel like such a wimp, but pictures of cars in ditches lead me to ponder, Why bother? THE WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY IS NOW IN EFFECT UNTIL NOON EST THURSDAY.

So I guess this is the way it is and at some point, encouraged by veterans of long hard winters, I may look at getting a generator. When my current car needs replacing, I will have to think long and hard about… well, Chris thinks we need a giant truck with four wheel drive and a snow plow…but I will have to put these “snow events” into the equation. As Heathrow Airport considers more snow plows, I will have to consider a few things myself.

Again, however, the cool part is: I have the world’s best neighbors. Yesterday there were five humans and about as many dogs hanging out in the snow out by the mailboxes, chatting laughing, chasing each other around (that was the dog participation). The night before, Phil and Robin opened their home with pots of soup and loaves of bread. The following night it was a variation on that theme at Jeff and Susan’s. Wonderful company, warm homes and hearts. I mean, this is really special. And without the snow, would it all come together like this. Doubtful.

In the days since the worst of this took place, I have been trying to put things in perspective. Yes, there are cars in ditches—still—on my road, and there was even one teetering over the creek with one tire in the air!, but we are a mere 1.5 miles from a secondary road so if worse came to worse, I could creep that far with flashers on and white knuckles gripping the wheel. It’s do-able. I am not truly in the middle of nowhere.

Meanwhile, I am thanking my lucky stars, tweaking my list of resolutions, packing for the next adventure (Sanibel! Morocco! Spain!) and wondering how late the Y is open and if I can get there. And with an eye to the weather map, I am plotting my departure between storms.
Here’s to the power staying on, clear roads and smooth sailing. Happy New Year!

Things I am Learning
& Miscellaneous Observations
* If I ever knew I had forgotten (surprise)—do you remember that CHAD is card hole aggregate debris? Those are the kinds of things I learn through all the reading I do.
* And speaking of which, back to my favorite “The Cheapskate Next Door”: he quoted a story on NPR (so it has to be true!) that the average American eats THREE hamburgers and FOUR orders of french fries EVERY WEEK. I am way below average and so are most of the people I have mentioned this to…so who is eating our shares?
* As I waddle down the road dressed for the lovely winter weather, I keep thinking of my silhouette. One continuous line of winter padding. Not much shape there.
* Sometimes I put something in the PNewS just so I can throw a piece of paper away. Last issue I quoted the article in which the alligator’s brain activity was likened to a dial tone and for some reason I just can’t throw that article away. It’s too precious. Precious? Yeah.
* My nephew Sam came to town in December (seems like 100 years ago). I hadn’t spent much time with him since he’s grown up and I enjoyed his company (the sleeping til noon part was challenging but it was a quick visit). He was driving an aged Airstream RV (not a trailer—a silver bus) which had had some mechanical difficulties and so the late morning sleep was needed to recover from the stress of two major breakdowns in the same number of days. I showed him around Asheville and fed him and we chatted. Not having had children, it was fascinating insight into where one is at as a twenty-something. I envy the adventure he is on—driving and painting around the country. And I am so glad I am not twenty-something any more!
* In the midst of all this weather hullabaloo, I ordered a new cell phone. The nice man at Verizon said I would be able to use it in Morocco and Spain and it wouldn’t cost me much–except for a new contract with Verizon. I took the bait. It was being sent next day Fedex. Five days later, I am wondering when I will ever see it. While Fedex is wonderful at keeping me up to date on its inability to get here, it gives me little opportunity to talk to anyone about it. Jeff said I could redirect it to his store which Fedex could easily get to, but I don’t know how to tell them that! It’s funny how websites bury their access information. Ok. I have to amend some of this. Afraid that I was dissing Fedx when they didn’t deserve it, I thought I would attempt to dig deeper. First, I did find some customer service FAQ and phone number. While the website says I can re-direct the package, the nice woman on the help line says I can’t. She did take my number and said she would make an attempt to contact the driver who could call me from somewhere where I could meet him/her. And he called me! And he delivered it to Jeff’s store! And maybe I can get out tomorrow to get it! All good! I like Fedex again but am waiting for a delivery from UPS since…well, that’s another story. And don’t get my started about Amazon marketplace expedited shipping.
* I saw an interesting article about the tax cuts given to the rich and a website that helps those folks figure out what they would have been paying in taxes without the cuts. The website, created by three professors at Yale and Cornell, encourages folks to donate that money to charity. Good idea. Go to www.giveitbackforjobs.org.
* I tasted my first moonshine the other day. It was in a wide-mouthed jar and everything. I was told you have to drink it straight from the jar—that’s part of the deal. It reminded me of some other things I have ingested in my life where I felt that brain cells were dying as I swallowed. Interesting but not good long term.
* Y’all have your 2011 calendars by now, so put Angel Island in there on June 25th. I will be there. You come too.

New Year--New Resolutions?
I went back to look at my resolutions from last year to see whether I should even bother. I didn’t do too badly but I would like to do better.
• My first resolution last year is my first this year as well. Focus. I was going to put a finer point on it, but why?
• I did make my Bucket List which should be revisited because I did a Travel Bucket List and maybe there are some non-travel goals I could add that would remind me to prioritize them.
• I explored some locally but there is so much more to see. My neighbor, who is almost 80 and who has lived here most of his life, has started exploring with his lady friend. They have a standing date to go somewhere within 100 miles of here. A good plan.
• I read some of the books on my bedside table but more have crept in and now need to be dealt with. Why do library books seem more pressing and more interesting than the ones I actually paid for?
• I finished some unfinished projects but see above (more have crept in and need addressing).
• I believe I am “doing what I can” more than I was last year, but I am also a slacker in many ways. On the other hand, perhaps I should go with the last year’s last resolution: Be realistic, and cut my self some…slack. What a concept!
• New resolutions for this year are
* Make new friends (keep up the pace).
* Investigate solar.
That seems like a pretty full plate. I will stop there.

“Whoever is shaking the snow globe, PLEASE STOP.”
The Ox Creek Community sign down the road a piece.

Asheville Habitat for Humanity Women Build 2011

I have been working with the leadership (aka fundraising) team to raise money for the 2011 Women Build. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you have heard me blather on about it. It's a win-win-win situation in my book: Women get experience in construction and trust me, gain confidence with tools. Women contractors get work. A family gets a home. How cool is that? Very.

So as part of this fundraising, we are offering you an "alternative giving" opportunity. Make a donation to Habitat (go to this link and under the drop down menu, you'll find Women Build--https://secure.sitemason.com/site/k355Uk/authorize_net_CCform). Make a donation instead of buying doo-dads and plastic crap from China--it'll last a lot longer than most gifts.

AND until January 31, 2011, there's a matching challenge grant that will make this a two-fer...up to $10,000! Yippee. And a happy merry ho ho ho to you too! love, peggy

PNewL PNewS Vol 18 No 4

PNewL PNewS
Volume 18 No. 4 “All the pnews that phits.” December 2010

Things I am Learning & Miscellaneous Observations

(Holiday Edition)

With no theme appearing for this issue, I thought I would run with smaller themes. We are sliding into the holiday season and who has time for long thoughts anyway.*** The other day after class, Anna said, Time is going so fast I feel like my life is out of control. The thing that struck me was that in time going fast, we are getting old fast. We are losing time. This actually is a big theme going on for me—facing the age-ing thing. I remember being in a matinee when I first started working freelance, listening to older people talking about medications and illness and hospitalizations, and I thought, I am never going to be those people, and now I am. *** There are more than 40,000 Chinese restaurants in the US (according to Jennifer 8 Lee [8 means prosperous in China] in “Fortune Cookie Chronicles,” a very entertaining read)—more than all the McDonalds, Burger Kings and Kentucky Fried Chickens COMBINED. *** Bad things are happening to good people and some days it just breaks my heart. *** Living with a dog and adult onset ADD work well together—he has it too and doesn’t mind mine. *** My teacher says journaling is a way of offsetting adult onset ADD. It can keep us organized; keep our thoughts about different things in accessible places. She may be right. So now all my wackiness, ideas bouncing off the walls, is in a stack of books. Well, at least I know where it all is. Now can someone tell me where my flash drive is? *** Things can happen in the blink of an eye. A deer runs across the field, dog follows, adrenalin flows. Phone rings, bad news, tears. *** A few weeks back, at the tail end of leaf season, I was walking through the woods, knocked out by the colors and the way the sun looked streaming through. Or maybe it was grey and I was marveling at the different shades of grey and brown and that what Allison said about colors popping more on a cloudy day than on a bright one was really true. And then I thought I should call Chris and tell her to check out the woods right now for painting possibilities or I should go get my camera or I…and then I realized, I could just marvel in it and that was pretty darn good in and of itself. Duh. *** I painted the shed…again. I have this gigantic wonderful shed which has needed some paint and I gave it some last year and it apparently wasn’t enough so I put it off until the deck was added, and right before it got too cold for this project. The only problem with painting is that it always goes on about twice as long as my interest, but I usually start off strong. I had a good book on tape (David Baldacci I think—good easy to listen to, not too complex stuff). It was the Crazy Painting Day. ### I was painting—yuck. ### A bee started buzzing, I slapped it with paint brush, got paint all over back of leg then smushed it into leg. It stung me. ### For bee sting: Took baby Benedryl GRAPE-flavored (surprise!), which made my stomach feel awful. ### Then got on a tall ladder, which I am not all that comfortable with on a good day, plus feeling a little nauseated—yuck again. ### Was swarmed by lady bugs (Loveeta says Asian Lady Beetles) and they chewed on me--OUCH. ### Then the Benedryl kicked in (Pharmacist said to take five—being one who reacts strongly to OTC drugs, I took three.) Started feeling woozy. ### Gave up on painting. Had a glass of wine. Went to bed really early and slept for over 10 hours. (Awoke refreshed and finished the job without incident.) Guess you had to be there—it was so awful it made me laugh. *** About the aforementioned deck. It is a small-ish deck that is giving me great pleasure. They also installed a door (the former front door of the house which I didn’t like on the house but looks sweet on the shed) and a window (from the bathroom—a window of plastic blocks. I like windows to open in my bathroom, but it doesn’t much matter on a shed) and now it looks like a little cottage. But the unexpected pleasure comes from the new perspective that going up four feet from where I usually stand there. It’s not quite a “view” but it is close. I can see Jeff and Susan’s angora goats. With the leaves gone, I can keep closer tabs on their (Jeff and Susan, not the goats) comings and goings. I like it. And it’s a nice place to drink a beer or cuppa and watch the sun set. *** As I was reacquainting myself with my cool/cold weather clothes, I came to a sad conclusion. It was time to retire my “little shoes” from the World Tour. To re-cap: In 1995-96, I went around the world for 386 days. Four months into it, my Reeboks were history. In York England, I bought what was for me a very expensive pair of shoes, Eccos, but I knew that this was a thing worth investing in because shoes crapping out, say, in India would be a problem. I loved those shoes. They went a lot of places. When I was trekking in Nepal, people said, oh I have seen you before—you are the one with the little shoes. (Despite what the guidebooks said, that you could do the part of the Annapurna trek I was doing in tennis shoes, I was apparently the only one not in big boots.) It was refreshing as I have never ever worn what one might consider LITTLE shoes. I had a very handsome shoe salesman tell me my feet looked like canoes when I was in high school and that has stuck with me ever since. But I digress. The shoes came home and were worn in California for many years and were even re-soled for about half of the original purchase price—but I wasn’t ready to let them go. Now, after many years in Florida where they probably molded a lot more than they were worn, and a few years here where I wore them sporadically through the winter, I have to acknowledge that I am not sure I am comfortable putting my feet in there any more. RIP my friends. *** I was looking at some things around the house recently—there are so many “things”—and I wondered, Which Peggy did I buy this for? Sometimes it’s one that no longer exists and sometimes it’s one I wish I were. Maybe that’s why I can’t straighten up the house—there are so many of us living here! *** One of the books I was reading recently was “The Cheapskate Next Door” by Jeff Yeager. In it, they talked about a kind of game they play where they don’t spend ANY MONEY for a week. Imagine. Try it? Wow. Maybe. *** Another book I listened to recently was “Nickel and Dimed in America” by Barbara Ehrenreich. What great timing—Thanksgiving! I am so grateful to live my life than to try to live on minimum wage. Then today, while driving home I caught a piece on NPR about the long term unemployed: folks who worked in white collar jobs for 30+ years who are now living (?) on unemployment. I am thankful, y’all.***

---

“The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering
from some form of mental illness. Think of your three best friends. If they are
okay, then it’s you.” Rita Mae Brown

---

Things I am Thankful for…
• Change of seasons
• Friends, family, and the Big Dog
• The Library (still and again)
• Discovering exercise before it was "too late"
• My lot in life
• The beach! The mountains!
• Raspberries and blueberries I planted that grow and actually produce fruit. Next year, apples? Garlic? Herbs and vegetables??
• A sunny day after a cloudy one

PNewL PNewS Vol. 18 # 3

PNewL PNewS
Volume 18 No. 3 “All the pnews that phits." September 2010


Being at Home

When I moved to Florida, I found there was an actual moment—I remember it specifically: I was riding my bike down Dixie Beach Blvd.—when I felt like I belonged there. I had friends, a routine, I knew my way around the grocery stores, I knew “the back way” off the island, I knew dirt on people. It was home.

When I first moved, Jane said it would take at least a couple years, maybe three, to feel at home. I agree. And it is not like they are tough hard years though there’s some tough and hard, but come to think of it there’s tough and hard in every year anywhere. There’re some lonely, lost times but there’s also the discovery of new things. There’re the times I don’t get lost—when something actually looks familiar. There’s the time the woman at the post office or the man at the fruit stand across the road says, “Hey” like they know me. There’s the time someone at a restaurant or a store asks if I am a local and I say, “Why yes I am.” I pay taxes and everything.

That moment of recognition—the shift from newbie to local—here in Western North Carolina came this summer. It was kind of a relief—I get to take that off the list of things that need to happen. It was also a warm bath, comforting, wonderful moment. It was a confluence of events. We were weathering the hottest summer on record—and we were weathering it together. My friends and neighbors had a “locavore” feast (all the ingredients were to come from no further than 50 miles from Asheville) and I was in the midst of it. When walking the dog, folks would stop to chat—“Good to see you—it’s been a while” (I was in and out of town a lot this summer). While it wasn’t an exact moment, it was a warm fuzzy realization that felt really good.

I had some wonderful out-of-town experiences this summer which I wanted to tell you about too, but it felt more important for me to say here: Hey, I’m home! How cool is that?

Things I am Learning
& Miscellaneous Observations

* Evie had a colonoscopy recently. We had several very funny conversations before during (well, not DURING but there’s a lot of process involved and we compared notes) and after. Recently she sent this email: “I thought you'd appreciate this: a wonderful young doctor who teaches at the Museum of Natural History put out a call for two-liter bottles and other float-ables to construct a boat for the boat float (all have to be made from recyclables). I asked him if he’d like a 4-liter colonoscopy prep bottle. He said, ‘Boy, would I. The kids’ll love that!’ Recycling at its finest!!”

* I had remarkable luck this summer in finding dogsitters. Turns out staying at my house is not a hardship. Kitty came over from “the Triangle,” and got to explore the western part of the state in the company of the large hound. Later, Gini happened to be heading back to Florida and made a several day detour to hang with the big dog. (She said it was a gift!) I am not sure who was luckier, them, me or Sir Baru Bear. Win-win-win!! So that brings me to a trip I reallllly want to and would take if not for the caring and tending of said dog---anyone want to hang out in the wild and willy boonies in late January-early February?

* Another recent discovery in the “young adult” section of the library was “Careers for Introverts and Other Solitary Types” by Blythe Camenson. I couldn’t believe my luck in coming across this about 30 years too late. Turns out I have hit on a couple of them—freelance research, writing. There were a couple suggested I hadn’t gotten to yet: mail carrier, security guards, and one I always wanted to be...a forest ranger! Maybe I will do that next.

* In “French Women Don’t Get Fat,” the author (Mireille Guiliano) says that toddlers laugh 400 times a day and adults only 15. I have been working on that. Frankly, I think having a dog doubles the number right off the bat.

* From an article in “OnEarth” (National Resources Defense Council mag) Spring 2010, page 64: Writer Kim Tingley: “Though I knew [the alligator’s] massive body housed a brain less hefty than a poker chip, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Most likely, absolutely nothing: alligator’s thoughts are probably “like a dial tone,” (itals are mine because this concept makes me smile, nay..laugh!) a zoologist once told The New Yorker.” I love that. Makes me wonder who else has a dial tone brain.

* If you are looking for a great book on tape, try “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett. Anthony Bourdain’s “A Cook’s Tour : In Search of the Perfect Meal” is another entertaining listen. And “Bait and Switch: The (futile) Pursuit of the American Dream” by Barbara Ehrenreich is pretty depressing but I bet frighteningly close to the current state of the job market. (I find it shocking that folks over FORTY are considered undesirable employees. Ouch!) I am currently reading a very funny (and possibly helpful) book called “How to Get Things Really Flat: Enlightenment for Every Man on Ironing, Vacuuming and other Household Arts,” by Andrew Martin. It is also, by the way, for women (like me) who play the Walter Matthau (slob) part in “The Odd Couple.” I am trying to find the quote about how after four years, the dirt doesn’t get any worse – I may have to re-read it to find it. Meanwhile, it makes me laugh out loud.

* MHN (my initials and those of my sister too) in Greek means “don’t.” Baru (my dog's first name) in Indonesian means “new.” (Thanks Caroline)

* One of my many projects has been an attempt to be more precise about words. I say a lot of I hate this or I love that or I can’t do or I don’t have time and when someone knows me well, this can be interpreted closer to the truth but I say these kinds of things to strangers and they take it literally. Oops. This summer, there were some unfortunate examples of this among family members. I listened to two people tell the same dang story and each of them put their own spin on it and came to really different conclusions. It was such a clear and remarkable example of why it’s realllly important to be very careful about how I say things and to know that the person heard what I said the way I meant it. Be careful out there—it’s a sticky world.

* I made a donation to a non-profit in the envelope supplied by another. I covered the address with a sticker and taped it down. I scribbled over both bar codes on the front of the envelope. Imagine my embarrassment when the envelope provider called to say they had received a check from me but it wasn’t for them. They hadn’t looked at the envelope and were as surprised as I was that they had gotten an envelope that didn’t appear to be addressed to them. Oops..again.

* I don’t recommend buying dog treats or shampoo (or anything else, for that matter) without glasses. The mistakes are…well, there are plenty of them.

* Corked wine or screw top? Our used-to-be locally owned market has been bought out by Whole Foods and so now we are getting little “facts” sheet when shopping—this one from Willamette Vineyards. Cork is renewable, recyclable, bio-degradable. Cork trees live to be 300. Not using cork means I am not supporting the cork growing families. I can recycle them by taking them to the market and they will be sent to Oregon. Hmmm

* Speaking of wine, I went to a tasting the other night (yoga and wine, what a combo!) and learned that some of the major producers do things like add purple coloring to make the color richer and oak powder to give it that on the oak flavor. Yum!

* According to “USA Weekend,” prefab houses (like mine) are now hip and environmentally correct. Ahead of the curve, I am.

The Reluctant Gardener Part II

So there I was—just about to leave town, trying to get all the stuff done that had been lingering for ages: 12 years of photos into albums, multiple loads of laundry and dishes, detailing my car, refolding all my fabric….and the only one I actually got to: weed-whacking some of the jungle. Once again, I tried to be mindful of what I was doing—patient, cutting, experiencing the success, waiting for the bleeping battery in the groovy weed-whacker to die, cursing the sweat that was stinging my eyes, thinking about the poisons that would kill these weeds, the fossil fueled implements of destruction that would handle these issues better than I was. Yes, it is a joy. I love gardening! It brings such pleasure. And I am good at it! (Trying to be positive.) Sigh.

Laurie says I need to deal with the weeds early. I have determined through experience now that she is right. I am going to spend the entire months of March and April from now on prepping the beds because I am NEVER going to do this again. Would someone please remind me I said this when I am making other plans?

Weeds boggle my mind. Isn’t this a survival of the fittest scenario? Doesn’t that mean that I have no chance of beating them? They’ve been doing this for eons. I am 53 years old—what hope do I have? Yes, I have opposable thumbs but my attention span is limited almost as much as my patience. And then I tried to do the right thing. I raked and put down layers of overlapping cardboard covered with several inches of mulch and grasses came up wherever they could. They have tendrils that have locked into wads of mulch. They don’t come up high enough for the weed-whacker to even hit them (is this the fittest part?). Grr. I am leaving town. I can’t watch this anymore. Perhaps it will snow (in September) while I am gone.

On the truly positive side, my raspberry bushes have been very satisfying. I am getting a small bowl of fruit

each morning. It’s a miracle. It makes me think I could do more of this gardening junk if I could get small bowls of yummy every day. Laurie has me planting garlic and then there were cool weather spinach seeds at the nursery. Oh no…here I go.

“Why can’t we get all the people in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn’t work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.” Charles M Schultz