Down to the River

Our home is at the intersection of three lakes, with that many lovely parks adjoining.  Often during the summer months various churches will hold an outdoor service to enjoy being out in Nature.  This morning a small evangelical church set up and the singing began around 8:30, and continued for over two hours.  One of my favorite hymns caught my ear, and set the mood for the day.  Whatever your Faith tradition, we can find commonality and joy with song.

With so many friends dealing with loss and struggles it seems a kindness to focus on uplifting their hearts.  Enjoy.  Be Blessed.

Bless Her Heart

Recently Macaroni's exemplary personal care attendant and I were having a discussion, in which in my enthusiastic attempt to offer praise and enjoyment for her actions, I used the phrase "bless your heart".  There was a bit of a pause before she offered the response that what I'd said was really considered an insult by those in the South.  Since she's lived there, she definitely has the dialectic and cultural knowledge of Southern idioms.  It was not only an instance of mortification to have unwittingly offended The Divine Miss M, but to think back on a lifetime of my husband's Southern relatives offering their Bless Your Hearts to us over the decades.

The phrase to us northerners is simply a benediction of sorts, to assure us of our actions being worthy of praise, comfort, or as a phrase acknowledgeing a trying experience.

To utter bless your heart can range from a mild rebuke of thinking, well aren't you foolish, to the outright insult suitable to the moment, as in, well aren't you just a waste of oxygen.  It's a passive aggressive method of getting your point across, but it works best if delivered so subtly that the recipient isn't exactly sure what you meant.  And of course if it is offered by a person of deep faith, it might really be just a blessing from the heart.

A decade ago when the Spousal Unit's father passed away, we were in the corner of Missouri that shares a border with Tennessee and Arkansas.  The aunts hosting us were worried that I wasn't answering my cell phone during the long drive to bring our son to the airport at Memphis. When I finally returned back after the 3 hour round trip, Aunt Polly queried my silence.  I couldn't answer while I was driving I responded - Aunt Polly gave me a slap that was not quite violent, but much more than a love tap.  Well bless your heart she said, don't do that again.

To use it effectively you have to be well trained in the art of the insult, and knowing how and when to deploy it in conversation.  I think most Northerners are just more upfront about insults, subtlety is just too, well, subtle for most of us.  My departed mother in law was the ultimate practitioner of the insult.

After her husband passed away, she gave in to her son's request that she choose to relocate so that her declining health could be managed in person rather than a 4 hour plane ride away.  She choose to locate here, and it was, to paraphrase Bette Davis, a bumpy night.  We had to fasten our seat belts.  It was our custom to host her for Sunday dinner where I would pull out all the stops to create her favorites, sweet tea, ham, scalloped potatoes, rolls.  Jello.  Lamb.  Roast beef and all the trimmings.  She had a phenomenal sweet tooth, and we worked our way through all her favorite desserts.  I always made enough that she had homemade dinners to last through the week, since she was dissatisfied with the dining room food at her apartment building.

One memorable evening I had crafted a meal Julia Child would have gushed over, and this was after the grocery shopping, the cleaning to satisfy her OCD standard of clean, the cooking, the serving and the eventual cleanup of dinner dishes. (Don't think I am giving the Spousal Unit a pass, he had the unenviable job of fetching her, her oxygen tanks, helping her dress, getting her into the car, and the reverse process to return her to the assisted living apartment, and getting her ready for bed).  I must have been fishing for compliments, because I was foolish enough to ask how she enjoyed her meal that night.

Well, she said, it was nourishment.

Bless her heart.

Just Being

Sometimes we need someone to simply be there. Not to fix anything, or to do anything in particular, but just to let us feel that we are cared for and supported.

So many of us are facing life changes.  Kids that are no longer kids and leaving for colleges. Serious health changes, moving and adapting to new spaces and places.  Career changes and personal relationship changes.  Grandchildren and elderly parents in need.  We are always in flux navigating this current of life, all we can do is keep paddling.

Namaste dear friends. 

Campfires

I've recently given up watching the news, since the media is so determined to give air time to the clowns and posturing that now seems to pass for serious political discussion.  Wake me up when the spoiled children have gone home and we can have substantive discourse with respect and consideration for each other's narratives.  Especially the misogynist with the particularly lamentable hair 'do, can none of his sycophants convince him he looks more than a bit ridiculous?

It would be The End Times if that prevaricating narcissist held any type of office, I would seriously consider retirement in another country.  It is a challenge to keep the campfires of gentle people glowing, amidst the onslaught of such vanity.

 Well - I do have issues with taking myself too seriously, so to lighten the mood here are a few more pictures taken during our holiday travels.  There is a home along the North Shore right off the big Lake that I imagine the owners have spent decades gathering driftwood and rocks to build these enormous piles.  On our first pass of their house I was horrified by what appeared a jumble of tacky junk just piled helter skelter.

But if you stop and take time to look more closely, you will see each are has a theme of animals or birds, and each rock and piece of wood was deliberately placed to create an image of a woodland habitat.

Click on the photos to enlarge, we were fascinated by the amount of detail the owners went to in building their tableaus.  There is an eagle perched on a tree, with a nest constructed of sticks and chicks on the cliff in the background.

Fox, moose, deer, raccoon, rabbits, wolves, squirrels, and all manner of birds are featured, although some of them verge on cartoonish and caricatures but taken as a whole it works pretty well.  To think of the hours devoted to this creation is a bit mind boggling, and I can't help but wonder who would ever buy their property.

This was one of the many falls we saw on our hikes up and down the shore, we've never gone in Spring when the levels would be much higher and the current even swifter.

There is a lodge that was a private club back in the 1920s, and it has the most fantastical painted decor one can find anywhere on earth - a pseudo Cree Native American design that has to be seen to be believed.  It was to have a membership of 1000 but the crash of 1929 drove it into bankruptcy and disrepair.  The dining room has soaring ceilings atop a room lit by many windows and unique lights, with a lake stone fireplace to anchor the head of the room.  The food at the Naniboujou Lodge was divine, it will definitely be a place we return to on future trips.  There are no phones, tv or wifi in the lodge to enable their guests to truly embrace a quiet vacation unconnected to work.  It is a simple and restful spot designed to renew the spirit.

Wish I could steal this label!

A friend sent me this picture one morning, while I was having breakfast.  I laughed so hard that coffee may have come out of my nose.  I won't confirm that, since it is an undignified image, but I did have to change my shirt.

The beer growlers I made for a friend who runs a fundraiser for an Autism support group came out of the kiln last week - I think I'm in love with yet another form.  They'd be great for any type of beverage, and the nice thick walls would keep it well chilled.  These hefty boys will hold 48 ounces of your favorite brew.  I'm going to make smaller versions as oil bottles, and have fun playing with the textured patterns.

That's the news from the edge of the Prairie.  Namaste

Life Up North

It might seem odd that we consider ourselves not true North, and that to "go Up North" means the shoreline along Lake Superior.  We've made it our anniversary habit to go Up North and breathe the cooler fresh air along the Lake.  It's nearly a 5 hour drive from our home south of the Twin Cities, you can watch the country change from urban to suburbs, from deciduous to mostly pine forests to mostly uninhabited land.  It recharges my soul every year, to sink down and put my hand in the cold cold lake water is like Atlas touching the earth to recharge his strength.  

The first few days were cool, misty, wet with fog; the Lake obscured except near shore were the waves washed over the rocks.  The only birds we saw were gulls greedy for scraps of fish, opportunists following the few fishing boats on the water, and the same large family group of Canada geese that have made this resort their home year after year. The bird with a lame leg and limp was still there this summer, and I was relieved he/she had survived migration.  They are unfortunately so tame by guests who feed them, that any large hand gesture brings them close to investigate. 

We drove all the way to the border near Grand Portage to see what the Grand Rendevouz reenactment had to show us. Historically costumed participants had set up camps, cooking areas, games, and demonstrations of hunting, fishing, and survival in the 1700s.  The Anishanaabe were holding a Pow Wow,  we were lucky to see several women in beautiful dress with tinkle bells sewn onto their clothing.  A woodworker demonstrated a foot pedal powered lathe from which he was turning a simple spoon, and spindles for a chair.  

We hiked every day, to waterfalls along the Superior Hiking Trail, in the State Parks that dot the North Country with rivers and falls that feed the Great Lake.  At Devil's Kettle there is a mystery hole into which half the river disappears, and despite attempts by researchers to discover it's outlet, the water has not given up it's secret.

 The fireweed that grows with abandon along the lake has nearly reached the top of it's bloom spike, summer is said to be at it's end when the flowers reach the top.

The soil is so shallow laying on the basaltic laval flow that makes up the geological foundation of the area, it is a wonder that anything grows.  When the glaciers receded from the area 12,000 years ago the Native Peoples began to settle in this rugged land, living by fishing in the summer months and following game trails in the winter.  When the white traders arrived,  their lives improved by the trade of furs for steel tools and weapons, woolens for clothing and blankets, fish hooks and other items that made daily life easier.  The white man also brought small pox that devastated a population without immunity, killing 2 out of 3 of the First Peoples.

The spontaneous art form of building rock cairns was everywhere along the Shore, so of course we had to add our own temporary sculpture tower.  

Some build seemingly impossible towers by balancing on point, we were content to do a simple stack.

Three days of very thick fog wrapped us in a blanket of mist and quiet, despite that just being along the Lake and hearing the waves splash on the rocks has a deep appeal to the senses and soul.  Maybe it's our age, but just sitting on the tiny deck and watching the water was so satisfying.  The other advantage was being out of cell range most of the time, and with limited internet.  To take a break from constant communication and news updates replenishes a well I hadn't realized had become too shallow.  I reread a favorite paper book, turning the pages and sniffing the paper just for the sheer novelty of putting my iPad aside.  

The geese were the quietest birds we've ever seen and not heard.  On our lake at home they are a rowdy bunch, honking and hissing and just creating a common ruckus most of the day and night.  

These birds made not a peep the entire week - it was quite a mystery. 

 The water in these falls comes rushing down with such force and sound that conversation isn't possible, it plummets from a higher river through various water cut channels into a pool were families splashed and children swam.  It was bracingly cold and very clean.  

To be in an area not ruined by mining and it's not decades of contamination, but centuries of contamination, is a gift.  We need to be more zealous of guarding nature, and much more cautious in our use of the land.  I am grieved that a Canadian firm has gained the permits to build a copper/nickle mine in the area near the Boundary Waters for employment that will at most last 20 years, but will leave the land and water permanently contaminated with heavy metals.

The trails were not for the faint of heart, usually involving a lot of scrambling up steep hillsides, tree roots and rocks.  The trail to one falls had a staircase of 180 steps at the end, which meant climbing the 180 steps to leave.  

I was extremely thankful for having brought hiking poles for balance, and for the resting platforms we shared with other out of breath climbers on the trail of stairs.

The evening sky just at gloaming with the setting sun illuminating the clouds with pastels.  The winds must have been swift at the higher altitudes, the lake was smooth and calm but the sky cleared within an hour in time for the meteor shower to begin.

It's impossible to see the true night sky in an urban area, while up North the Milky Way is a brilliant band of white across the arch of sky, each constellation visible to the eye and so easy to find.  

We brought our chairs onto the small scrap of lawn by the Lake and rested our heads back to see the shower, bright flashes that streaked by impossibly fast, almost before the brain can process what the eye has seen.

Can you believe these two have been together for 41 years?! 

We had a friend sing Sunrise Sunset at our wedding, since Fiddler on the Roof was so popular then.  I don't think we appreciated the passage of time in the song as much as we do now as we look back on our life together. 

Swiftly fly the years, I don't remember growing older, when did they?  

 The clouds moving out turn the lake from a steely grey to brilliant blue in moments, I even awakened every morning in time to see the sunrise.  The moon was a silver crescent still visible as the sun was ascending.  

Miigwech giibinbwaachiweyin - Thank you for visiting with me

Soul Friends

Beannacht/ Blessing

On the day when

the weight deadens

on your shoulders

and you stumble,

may the clay dance

to balance you.

And when your eyes

freeze behind

the grey window

and the ghost of loss

gets in to you,

may a flock of colours,

indigo, red, green,

and azure blue

come to awaken in you

a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays

in the currach of thought

and a stain of ocean

blackens beneath you,

may there come across the waters

a path of yellow moonlight

to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

may the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow

wind work these words

of love around you,

an invisible cloak

to mind your life.” 

― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

I've been blessed to find my Soul Friend in my husband of 41 years.

Happy Anniversary to my best friend.  

Snappers

Why doesn't this come with a complimentary membership to Weight Watchers?  Truly it is the crack of the chocolate world.

I'll be away from my blogging post for a few days, so carry on regardless.  

Oh the Absurdity

Isn't this the best of seasons? The weather is usually moderate, the birds sing their morning chorus without fail and each day brings another group of plants into their bloom time.  Either we have deer or a silent group of ruminants comes by at night to graze our hostas down to mere nubs.  It's very frustrating, as I try to have a natural garden without pesticides or toxic products and the homemade mix of garlic/onion juice that is rumored to deter rabbits and deer appears to be just an intoxicating salad dressing for their browsing delight.  Making salad for our own dining is a treat with the abundance of vegetables in season.  One of my favorites is gazpacho soup, how simple and delicious with just a loaf of fresh bread.  The Spousal Unit will have a no thank you serving and a peanut butter sandwich.  Philistine.

As per protocol, another weird event came into our lives yesterday.  A very large, very dead, very horribly stinky raccoon floated into our bay Thursday evening and became a stationary fixture in the weeds right off the shore.  My dear neighbor called the city's animal control officer and she arrived promptly to scoop up the deceased.

What the poor girl failed to grasp was it was far enough off shore to require either chest waders or a canoe trip.  So with great organizing skills we launched off and paddled over to the corpse, and here is where my mental path changed from hers.  My thought was she would lasso either the head or a foot and we would tow it to shore where she could bag it for disposal.  However with super powers she strong-armed that raccoon right into the canoe floor with a hideous plop.  I shall spare the graphic details, since it involved a lot of gagging, trying to enrobe it and it's leaking innards in a double trash bag, frantic paddling back to the dock where she leaped out and wrestled the reeking dripping bag off to her truck.  You know, there are just mornings where putting vodka on your cheerios is rather appealing.

To add to the weirdness within a few hours a cluster of mylar balloons drifted in and settled in the exact spot the raccoon had come to rest.  Apparently we were supposed to hold a memorial service,  I couldn't make this up if I tried, truth is stranger than fiction.

The morning wasn't a complete exercise in absurdity, but it came close.  A neighbor must have celebrated a milestone birthday, since a flock of exotic birds was planted in their yard.

Is everyones life this weird, or is it just me?

Namaste