feats grand and dubious

With the last of the snowplow icebergs waning and the snowy mountain peaks greening, it's time for some spring cleaning--specifically cleaning a couple winter blog posts that I never posted out of my mind. Today marks the end of my leave of absence from blogging.

My daughter accomplished grand feats on the ski slopes. Four and a half and she started skiing black diamond trails. She especially likes skiing the bumps! I am in awe. She's confident and takes her time, while hollering "whoohoo" down the mountain. It's quite remarkable to see a pink-clad, pint-size child disappear and reappear in a moonscape of large moguls. She often calls over her shoulder, "Race you, Mom!" If only I could contain my anxiety about all the other skiers navigating around her. I spend my time hollering over my shoulder, "Watch out for that little girl!" Ah, the benefits and reassurance of someone wearing magenta in the moguls.

Now teen kitty Daisy Mayhem learned to mouse. Her first three captures occurred within 14 hours. A meadow vole and mouse in the evening, and a shrew the next morning. Whoohoo! I didn't know we had such a variety in the house.....

My feats have been dubious at best. First, we ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the same friends on the same day, all unplanned. Breakfast rolled into sledding rolled into lunch and warming up rolled into scrabble and music rolled into dinner. We've talked about doing this with these friends for years. Wouldn't be great if....? What else? Well, I wore my pajamas all day...for work. Slept in long johns, an ice storm closed work, telecommuted from home in my long johns. Went to bed in the same pair...just to say I did it! Clearly, all praise goes to my daughter and cat for their more notable accomplishments.

p.s. I've been enjoying the weekly photos that some friends posted and thought I might be able to accomplish a seasonal photo. While the photo above captures my husband and me in a rare photo together, our daughter was too short to make the frame! Nice photo nevertheless. There's room for improvement in spring.

hope amidst wreckage

Our neighbors' house burned down on Friday. It was a small red camp a few houses down from us. The same afternoon my office was having a small holiday gathering, rescheduled due to weather, at our house. We had an amusing time performing for three esteemed judges in our version of "Office Idol," and had a humorous yankee gift swap. Midafternoon, four of us went for a quick ski on one of our forest and field loops where we found an unfortunate frozen porcupine far from its protective den. Temperatures had dropped to about 15 below (F) the night before and things still felt pretty brisk.

When we returned, we noted that our non-skiing friends had already left to beat the predicted bad weather, or so we thought. As we stood by the barn unclasping snow gear, the mail carrier pulled in to say that the neighbors' house was on fire. We scrambled down the hill to help out and arrived 15 minutes before the first fire trucks arrived at about 3:45pm. Apparently, our office manager was driving by the camp on her way home when she noted smoke coming out of the vent in the roof peak. She drove right back to our place, where my husband promptly called 911. It took three rings to get through. That was sobering. Since the bridge midway up our road is closed, my husband drove around an alternate route to the bottom of the road to waive the out-of-town fire trucks around the closed bridge.

One of our office mates also happens to be a volunteer fire fighter. He warned us of the perils of opening the door to an explosion of flames, before any of us tried to free the three cats and a dog we knew were inside. The windows were already black when we arrived and he thought there was no chance of life inside. Sure enough, when the fire fighters were finally prepared to open the door, it fairly exploded into a gigantic tower of flame.

The first two trucks were getting set up when the woman whose house it was arrived home from work. I can hardly describe the shock on her face. Her husband arrived shortly after. They were crushed by the enormity of the situation and most distraught about losing their beloved pets.

Imagine all of our utter surprise when two and a half hours after the fire started, a firefighter pulled a cat alive from the basement. Spike was wet, singed, exhausted and awfully glad to see his owners. They were awfully glad to see him, and noted that the basement can only be entered from the outside, so the cat must have clawed its way through floorboards and insulation to escape. What a miracle, and a sense of hope amidst the wreckage of their home.

Our community has been rallying to help our unfortunate neighbors through these difficult times. Immediate help ranged from supporting our neighbors, serving hot coffee and food to the fire crews, warming and feeding the cat, and posting family contact information on the electronic "front porch forum," to helping direct traffic. Long-term assistance will be to help our neighbors rebuild their home. Many, many thanks to the fire crews from four different towns who worked well into the night in bitter cold temperatures to control the blaze. Their work was not finished until after midnight.

This experience is a good reminder of how quickly joy can turn to despair and still be replaced again by hope. I am thankful that the fire did not occur at night when our neighbors would have been sleeping, and that they are safe. I am also reminded again of both the pleasures and perils of living in a rural area. Ironically, and thankfully, my husband replaced fire extinguishers in our house and rental houses a few hours before the fire down the road began. No kidding. Please everyone, check your smoke alarms and fire extinguishers after reading. Be warm, be safe, and be as joyful as you can.

feline ethology

We gained a pint-size family member over the holidays. A sweet calico kitten with a tiger tail named.….that’s just it, we don’t know yet! Initially, I was thinking something Irish, Aoife (pronounced “eefa”), or something Japanese such as Keiko. She has a black fleur-de-lis on her back. Perhaps she should be named Fleur for the famous and beautiful French witch in Harry Potter’s Tri-wizard Tournament.

What kind of feline ethology might guide us? She came from a litter of four kittens. So, if we follow western European naming traditions, she should be named after my mother’s mother, my father’s mother, my mother, or my mother’s oldest sister, depending on birth order which we don’t know. If we follow the ethology thread of animal behavior character, that leads us to all the leaping and hopping. Maybe a frog-based name—Hyla (“heela”), the genus name for tree frogs or Rana, the genus name for green frogs. She does like water and enjoys perching on an island of knee in the bathtub.

Some native american traditions involve looking to the nearest water. In this case, that is the fish tank. How about Fighting-Fish-Stalker, as she is enthralled with the fish tank. Just kidding. Maybe she should name herself. This what emerged when she leapt from my lap to the keyboard…. gjmn,0pdddddddddddd. Gijmin Opped? Gidget? Sounds like a scat singing cat.

Our daughter has not been challenged with naming so far, given the following rapid name evolution. Cinderella (too Disney) turned into Snow (too Disney) turned into Flower (too Disney) turned into Christmas Ornament Flower. That’s more original. Then the flower got more specific. Christmas Ornament Daisy. Next came Daphne Daisy. Eventually that morphed into Daisy Mayhem, which suits her well. Daisy Mayhem she’s been for a few days now.

It’s been wildly entertaining having a curious, furry sprite scampering and leaping about. I have not laughed this hard this often in quite some time. Then, last night I heard a Buddy Holly tune on the radio. Could it be that our new kitten will be named Peggy Sue?!

Breakfast in New Orleans...

…Dinner in Timbuktu. That line aptly describes a dynamic eight weeks this fall where I traveled four weeks to Wisconsin, Cleveland, Tucson, and New Orleans. That line is also the title of one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn albums (pronounced “coburn”), eleven of which I have. Here are some flavors of things I learned and experienced as I hop-scotched across this country.

Ashland, Wisconsin—late September. While attending the International Social Scientists and Resource Managers (ISSRM) conference held in Vermont in June, I was invited to write a chapter for a book about place-based environmental decision-making. The twenty-one chapter authors converged on the shores of Lake Superior for an intensive, multiple day immersion into mutual peer reviewing and critiquing. It was an incredible opportunity for incredible thinking, and I was thrilled that twenty academics were interested to hear from a practicing land and water manager. Shared synergy! The last day was spent kayaking sea caves around the Apostle Islands, a place I vow to return to. Sea synergy!

Cleveland, Ohio—early October. You already had a photo essay of my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary and helping them move and unpack. The nice postscript is that I am really enjoying pouring tea out of the trophy cup that my pie-baking company owning, horse trotter racing great grandfather won in 1884. It’s really nice communing with this elder whose name I share over a cup of tea.

Tucson, Arizona—late October. You already had a photo essay of Día de los Muertos. My reason for traveling there was to attend a small workshop entitled North and South American H.E.L.P: a 10-year retrospective. H.E.L.P stands for Hydrology, Environment, Life, and Policy and is a UNESCO program based out of their Paris office that promotes information sharing among river and lake basins worldwide. Lake Champlain is one of seven basins worldwide considered a demonstration watershed due partly to our strong partnership with and investment in citizens. Our twelve-member task was to craft a white paper to help UNESCO’s International Hydrology Program chart out the next 10 years and evaluate successes and pitfalls of the program.

New Orleans, Louisiana—Thanksgiving. Ah, breakfast in New Orleans indeed! At Croissant D’Or specifically. We are grateful for the generosity and invitation of our dear friends G & J to join them in New Orleans for Thanksgiving. Steam ships, street cars, jambalaya, jazz. Strolling the sunny French Quarter was truly divine. The new insectarium was interesting, intense, incredible.

Huntington, Vermont—December. We were glad to have a dreamy white Christmas at home unpacking presents instead of suitcases. Thankful for all the opportunities and excitement of the fall and thankful to be surrounded by family and dear friends.

first guest blogger

My very first guest blogger is four years old! She knows how to type her own name, and other important words. She spelled and typed the next five words herself! And picked the colors too!
I LOVE YOU

DADDY

MAMA

Things she would like you to know about her are...

My favorite fruits are strawberries and other red fruits.
I like blueberries too.

My favorite dress to wear is red with roses.

I like to paint.

I like to ride horses.

I like to play with my dolls.

Their names are Kipper and Kelly.

I like to ring bells.

Tomorrow I am going to New Orleans.

I love going to dance class.

I love books about the pigs named Toot & Puddle.

día de los muertos

A couple weeks ago we returned from Arizona. I was fortunate to have a three-day workshop followed by a long weekend in the Sonoran desert with my family. An incredible cultural highlight of our visit was participating in a Día de los Muertos celebration, outdoors at the Tucson Museum of Art. Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, is celebrated every November in Mexico and by Mexican families and others in the US. It is generally a combination of an ancient Aztec tradition honoring the dead and the Catholic celebrations of All Saints Day and All Souls Day. Families who celebrate Día de los Muertos in their homes build an altar called an ofrenda to honor their deceased loved ones, even including pets. Each altar is different, but most include candles, statues or religious icons, and favorite, food, photos, and possessions of the dearly departed.

While we missed the big All Souls Procession which was delayed for a week this year and is usually attended by 12,000 people in Tucson, we enjoyed the following on the ofrendas:

Esqueletos y calaveras--skeletons and skulls are symbols of Day of the Dead since Aztec times. Skeletons are not considered scary, rather, humorous reminders of death.

Papel picado--colored tissue paper is cut into traditional designs and strung overhead the celebration.

Calaveras de azúcar--sugar skulls re decorated with intricate patterns of icing or shiny foil and given as gifts.

Candles--light the way for the deceased to find their ways home.

Water--quenches the thirst of the traveling spirits after their long journey back home.

Cempasúchitl--marigolds are the flower of the dead. Known for their bright color and potent smell, these blooms are a common decoration in Día de los Muertos celebrations.

Food and drink--the dearly departed will often find their favorite dishes and drinks awaiting them on the ofrenda. Pan de Muerto is a sweet-tasting decorated bread that is a tradition.

Pictures and personal effects, such as reading glasses, jewelry, or toys are placed at the center of the ofrenda.

Here is our SLIDESHOW (at LINK below photo) of Día de los Muertos celebrations. You will have to click on the link below the picture. Despite trying for over a week to figure how to embed a slideshow, I am still scratching my head. Text is below the slides.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/bluefrogfarm/arizona_favorites

short note, cow

Last week's neighborhood stampede elicited a lot of nice three-lettered-words. Cow! Moo! Huh? How? Apparently, cows and calves were separated, so the mamas broke out of jail in protest and strolled a mile up the hill. Coincidentally, my husband, a dairyman in a long ago prior career who understands bovines, was helping a neighbor build a horse shed. So, he stood in the road with a 12 foot 2x10 trying to keep the mamas from going farther up the road where they sometimes graze at our place. Faux fence.

Coincidentally, another neighbor, an internationally recognized computer programmer, soon-to-be famous author, women-in-technology-leader, was home writing her book. So, she stood on her front lawn and immortalized the moment on film as the cows grazed at her place instead. These exciting moments are recorded on her blog at this link: http://www.thedatafarm.com/blog/2008/11/06/Moo.aspx

I don't pretend to understand a fraction of the types of things often posted on this blog, although I was glad to learn the definition of the word "transhumance." It's good to be surrounded and supported by dear friends and family who understand the intricacies of bovines and technology. Yay! Another nice three-lettered-word.