I Survived the Ice Storm of '08!

Here's the email message I sent to my loved ones yesterday morning (Friday, December 12) from Antioch University:

I wanna go home! I checked the weather report on my computer yesterday morning before heading to the university on my bike--it was raining; raining, and there were patches of ice here and there on sidewalks and roads, but it didn't seem that bad! By late afternoon, slush was falling from the sky and freezing on the roads. Antioch University was shut down, and we were sent home early. I left my bike at the school, and a classmate drove me home. Early this morning the power went out in my house. I had cold bread and milk for breakfast, but as I headed out walking into the melting slush, I was cheered to see that a lot of places in Keene still have power. I bought a decaf latte for my thermos on my way to the university. My 8:30 class had been rescheduled for 11:00 this morning, but I turned on my cell phone when I arrived, and there was a message telling me that all my classes today are cancelled. I phoned Ken and pouted!

I'm told Keene is situated in a protected little valley, and that the surrounding areas are in very bad shape. My instructors and several of my classmates live in the surrounding areas. Last night a tree came through the roof of the living room of two of my instructors, and this morning trees continued to split and fall, tearing down power lines as they went. Driveways and roadways are blocked with fallen trees, and major highways are closed.

So, here's what I'm visualizing for myself: I'll ride my bike home this afternoon, and be greeted by a delightfully warm house, with lights shining through the windows!

I'll be able to use my computer, and phone whomever I like using Skype, and my little blue bed will be cosy and warm!

_____________________________________

Not being a spontaneous kind of gal, my initial concern was, "What am I going to do all day, now that my classes are cancelled?" The faculty advisor for my class recently emailed us some reading assignments to complete by mid-January, so I bought one of my 'Spring' term textbooks, and went ahead with the prescribed readings. I chatted with a couple of my classmates (Edith and Astrea) who are out-of-towners, hanging out at the university for the day, because they were staying in Keene for our Shepherd's Play dress rehearsal, scheduled for today (Saturday). I began to worry about the night, (long; dark; chilly) when I called my landlady at 3:00 and learned that there was still no power in our house. She has a broken barbecue and a misplaced camp stove, so we had no hope of so much as a hot cup of tea while the power was off. My plan was to stay at the bright, warm university until suppertime; then eat at a bright, warm restaurant, and then . . . walk around the block or try some bedroom Tai Chi by candlelight to warm up, bundle up and make the best of it in a chilly bedroom.

At suppertime Edith received a call from our drama instructor--no play rehearsal Saturday. She and her husband (another of my instructors) had no power in their house, a broken window, and a blocked driveway--they were essentially prisoners in their cold, dark house. They hadn't been able to sleep during the night because of the snap, crackle, and pop of tree limbs succumbing to the weight of the ice in the forest surrounding their house. This is the couple whose living room was invaded by a crashing tree at 1:00 a.m. While Edith emailed our classmates, Astrea and I went through the class list, calling people on their cell phones to tell them not to travel to Saturday's rehearsal venue. A call came through on my phone from Gary, my housemate, to tell me that the electrical power was restored in our house!

Oh, Joy! Oh, Bliss! Goddess is in Heaven; all's right with the world!

Edith and Astrea drove home to their families, and I realized my visualization: I rode my bike home to a warm house, lit up like a Christmas tree. I cooked myself a hot meal, and celebrated with a Seagram's Ice. (Tee-hee--ice storm Ice!) Oh, the miracle of light switches; furnaces; cooking applicances; hot water! (It's jolly COLD outside this morning--I don't think I would have lasted the night in an unheated house.) Prayers to those who are still without power in their homes.

Seven more sleeps--count 'em! I have three fine, fat novels from the library to tide me over until our dress rehearsal and performance on Wednesday, and biking or walking outdoors every day will help to keep me occupied, as well. Our last full day of classes is Friday, December 19, the day before my flight to Edmonton.

Here is the Solstice verse from Steiner's Calendar of the Soul:

To carry spirit light into world-winter-night
My heart is ardently impelled,
That shining seeds of soul
Take root in grounds of worlds
And Word Divine through senses' darkness
Resounds, transfiguring all life.

Transition Time

NEW ENGLAND: APRIL WEATHER IN DECEMBER
I still see squirrels occasionally, and today a small chipmunk with a very red back streaked across my path--I wonder if they're confused about the season? Monday's high here was -7 C, and this morning (two days later) it was +12 C and raining.

TEN MORE SLEEPS!
Neither buried beneath books, nor home for the holidays, now is a time of wrapping up loose ends and of anticipation. My classes resumed last week, after the Thanksgiving break, with significantly lighter assignment loads. This gives my classmates breathing space to finish their major term projects, but mine are already complete. I handed in my research paper on Leo Tolstoy to my instructor last Friday, one week before the deadline--he thanked me for the 'preemie.' I am learning the tenor recorder part for a few pieces that my class is preparing to perform on December 19th, and I found and stitched some accessories for the three angels in our Shepherds' Play for December 17th. I brought my watercolour painting notebook up to date, and jotted down my ponderings, comparing and contrasting 'touching' and 'beholding,' and my experiences of darkness and light. I registered for my January courses--did you know that we skip winter, at Antioch University? We are coming to the end of our FALL term, and in January we will begin our SPRING term--how convenient! These tasks, and my daily rehearsing, do NOT add up to a full week of work.

I looked after Jan's (my landlady's) dogs while she was away for a few days--fed them, watered them, and gave them attention. Hero and Winnie don't go for walks on leash. I took Safi on two brief walks, but she is quite skittish. She tends to lunge when a car drives by, and she's a big enough girl to provide a challenge for the one holding the other end of her leash! Precious was definitely easier to walk, and you can view photos of her at Robin Hood Park here. (I was mindful NOT to call her by name, in public!)

BOOKS AND STARS
I've read five novels since my last class before the Thanksgiving break, and I've decided I enjoy two Canadian female authors in particular--Joan Barfoot and Gail Bowen. It was fun to read about places in Saskatchewan in Gail's books. I read one of Garrison Keillor's Wobegon books, appropos to living in New England, and I especially enjoyed a new book by Peter Manseau, Songs for the Butcher's Daughter. Its themes include Jewish emigration from the Old Home to Israel and New York, and the Yiddish and Hebrew languages. The Canadian Living web site posts instructions on how to make stars by weaving gift-wrap ribbon, and I've made a couple dozen of these stars, to adorn my bedroom altar as well as the gifts I will wrap back in Edmonton.

FRENCH REPUBLICAN CALENDAR
Several years ago, a local radio station (perhaps CBC) declared, as an April Fool gag, that Canada was switching to 'decimal time.' There would be ten hours per day instead of twenty-four, with ten minutes per decimal hour, and ten seconds per decimal minute. When I found out about the French Republican calendar, I learned that the republicans had proposed this system, and created actual decimal time watches.

The French Republican calendar was used by the government of France for about twelve years, following the French revolution. It seems there was a desire to overturn every possible remnant of previous regimes. Said Romme: "...reason demands that we follow nature rather than servilely continuing upon the erroneous path of our predecessors..." The Republican calendar year began at the autumn equinox and had twelve months of 30 days each, which were given new names based on nature. Each month had three weeks, and each week had ten days. The names of these months translate (approximately) as follows: Grape Harvest, Fog, and Frost (autumn), Snowy, Rainy, and Windy (winter), Germination, Flower, and Pasture (spring), and Harvest, Summer Heat, and Fruit (summer). In England, people mocked the Republican Calendar by calling the months: Wheezy, Sneezy and Freezy; Slippy, Drippy and Nippy; Showery, Flowery and Bowery; Wheaty, Heaty and Sweety. What fun!! The French Republican calendar would make today the twentieth day of the autumn month of Frimaire (Frost). (The first month of winter would not begin until December 21.) Rather than the traditional Catholic saint-days, each day in the FR calendar has a designated animal, mineral, plant or tool (!), and today's special tool is the grub-hoe (tee-hee!).

In my posts of June 18 and August 27, 2008, I mentioned the ancient Chinese almanac from Liza Dalby's book, East Wind Melts the Ice. What is my attraction to these alternative calendars, you ask? I've been asking myself the same question. I believe it is a symptom of nothing less significant than my Quest to find Meaning in Life. A calendar can remind me of the seasons and the rhythms of nature, that nourish the seasons and the rhythms of my soul.

Soul nourishment for this week:

Within my being's depths there speaks,
Intent on revelation,
The cosmic Word mysteriously:
Imbue your labour's aims
With my bright spirit light
To sacrifice yourself through me.

Giving Thanks

CEDAR WAXWINGS
I'm not certain they were cedar waxwings, high, high up in the bare branches of a tree near the bike path last Sunday, but that's my best guesstimate, according to a few bird sites that I visited on the web. They were impossible to ignore--a large flock twittering and carrying on like dozens of squeaky wheels. I hope to see more of them through the winter. We have chickadees here, just like the ones at home, and squirrels are still bustling about, although my squirrel sightings are much fewer and farther between than they were a month or two ago.

AMERICAN THANKSGIVING
Thanksgiving in the U.S. is a big deal--my university classes for the week were cancelled--and it is always held the fourth Thursday in November. I helped Jan, my landlady cook up a feast of turkey with gluten-free trimmings for a few of her friends. It felt quite strange to sit down to a turkey dinner with three complete strangers and my landlady (who is only an acquaintance, really). It felt as though I was in a movie about a somewhat odd assortment of people, brought together by somewhat odd circumstances to break bread and give thanks together. I am thankful for having this cosy bedroom in New Hampshire, for having a kitchen in which to cook, and for being able to cook and able to be of help. I am thankful for Thursday's social gathering, which was fun and entertaining.

Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving here--the kick-off to the Christmas shopping season (my Christmas shopping is done, thank you very much!) and the busiest day of the year in retail stores in the U.S. I observed Black Friday by exploring a new-to-me bike trail at Ashuelot River Park, here in Keene. The photo above was taken there, and you can see more photos of the park by clicking here!

BEAUTY WALK
Some people refer to getting their 'beauty sleep,' and I rejuvenate by getting my 'beauty walks.' A beauty walk involves walking outdoors in nature, preferably with my camera, and it is done for the sake of both sanity and vanity! A Waldorf teacher from Alaska came to give a recruiting talk to my class a few weeks ago, and she shared the Northeners' Survival Secret with us. To cope with the severe cold and meagre daylight hours during winters that seem to go on forever, northeners get outdoors and get active every chance they get. Those Waldorf kids in Alaska spend more time outside during the school week in the frozen North than students do in the hospitable South. Works for me!

CYCLING THROUGH THE LEAVES
We're not 'dashing through the snow' yet, but in October I noticed with curiosity that homeowners here rake all of their leaves--and there are lots and lots of leaves--into piles and drifts along the sidewalks and curbs, instead of bagging them. My landlady, Jan told me that city crews come along in their trucks and vacuum up these piles of leaves. I even saw people in their yards riding on garden-tractor-vacuum machines. It was fun to ride my bike down the hill from Robin Hood Park, blasting through those leaf piles!

Last weekend it was capital-C Cold for the first time here. I didn't go up to Robin Hood Park, because the back brake on my bike didn't work, and that brake is needed for the ride down the hill. Andy's Cycle Shop seems to be closed down, at least temporarily, so I found another shop a little farther from home, but still within cycling distance--Norm's. I told the bike repair kid that my back brake quit working. He hefted my bike into the back of the shop as if it was only half its weight, and put it up on a stand. Then he turned to me and asked,

"Did you have it outside?"

Outside? I'm not supposed to have my bike outside? The brake worked perfectly well inside the warm shop, and it seems there is moisture inside my brake cable that freezes, and causes my brake to freeze. Jan told me I can keep the bike in her covered porch for the winter, and now I am learning to carry it up and down the front porch steps.

COOKING FOR ONE
Cooking for one is easy and fun! I love using Jan's toaster oven for cooking and for re-heating leftovers (I am a 'microwave snob'). I slap a piece of parchment paper on the baking tray, and cleaning up is no issue. I cook a recipe that serves 4-6 people, and freeze the leftovers in plastic 6-ounce yogurt containers overnight. In the morning, I pop out the frozen portions into freezer bags, to protect them against freezer burn. Each week my shopping list includes a single potato, a single onion, about six pieces of fruit, a fresh vegetable to cook, fresh ingredients for lunch sandwiches or salads, and a box of tea (twenty teabags are in a box, and I drink a bare minimum of three cups of tea per day). For supper tomorrow evening I can thaw out a portion of sweet-and-sour pineapple chicken, squash soup, lentil tomato soup, or mushroom cream sauce to go with either a chicken thigh or some made-ahead meatballs. It's a gourmet selection--a veritable embarasment of riches. More for which to be thankful!

Here is this week's verse from COTS--The Calendar of the Soul:

In secret inwardly to feel
How all that I've preserved of old
Is quickened by new-risen sense of self:
This shall, awakening, pour forth cosmic forces
Into the outer actions of my life
And growing, mold me into true existence.

The Mist and All

The Mist and All

by Dixie Willson

I like the fall
The mist and all
I like the night owl’s lonely call
And wailing sound
Of wind around

I like the gray
November day
And dead, bare boughs that coldly sway
Against my pane
I like the rain

I like to sit
And laugh at it
And tend my cozy fire a bit
I like the fall
The mist and all

I have always enjoyed this poem, and have used it with my Heart & Hands classes, although in Edmonton November days are more likely to be crisp, clear and frosty, rather than misty. But the poem has sprung to mind this week, riding my bicycle to and from the university in Keene. I've arrived at Antioch and home again wet every day. In Edmonton, if the puddles in the road are still, it isn't raining. In Keene, the rain can be sneaky. The puddles can be still, but when I begin pedaling my bike the 'mist' seems to begin moving vertically, and my ride becomes decidedly drippy. It's been wet, but warm this week--18 degrees Celsius, this afternoon! It seems rainy here because it is rainy; I looked it up and Keene receives 41 inches of precipitation per year, on average, as compared with Edmonton's 18.

FISHING IS SUCH HARD WORK
Last week, as I rounded the reservoir at the end of my customary Sunday-afternoon stroll, there was a car parked by the side of the road where it runs along the edge of the water. Two men stood by the car; one wielded a fishing rod, and the other was there for moral support, I suppose. I watched the valiant fisherman cast his line, and follow the hook and sinker with his gaze as they struck the water's surface. Then he laid his rod upon the pavement behind the back wheels of the car, and the two energetic sportsmen entered the vehicle and closed the doors, waiting, I imagine, to see whether anything would bite! Such exertion!

COMFORT ROUTINES
I am such a phlegmatic creature of habit . . . I take comfort and satisfaction from establishing little daily and weekly rhythms for myself. Perhaps they help to make me feel at home, and give me the sense of having some degree of control over my life away from home and loved ones. Thursdays, Fridays, and sometimes Saturdays are class days, and I look forward to spending time with my classmates and instructors. I tend to linger at the university after my last class each week, feeling just a tiny bit reluctant to go back to the solitary portion of my week. Every Friday marks the passage of one more New Hampshire week, bringing me ever-closer to Edmonton. Sundays and Thursdays are bath days; on Mondays and Wednesdays, I do bedroom Tai-Chi. ('Bedroom' Tai-Chi involves a lot of repositioning and shuffling around, as I would need about ten feet by twenty-four feet of clear floor space to do a proper set. I don't know of any Tai Chi club within biking distance, and I'm too shy to perform a set in public!) I usually cook a recipe on Mondays, and freeze it in individual portions for future meals. I do laundry on Tuesdays, and wash my sheets once a month.

To set the weekend days apart from my regular Monday-to-Wednesday homework days, I celebrate by serving myself a Guinness or a Mike's Hard with Saturday's supper, and taking myself out on a breakfast date each Sunday. This involves a decaf latte, fresh orange juice and a pastry at one of the coffee shops on Main Street, where I linger over one of my class reading assignments. (I have to do the coffee-shop thing--I used to notice students with their books or lap tops in the Second Cup in Edmonton, and picture myself as one of those, so I now make a point of studying in the coffee shop, although I must say I am more comfortable and less distracted, working at my own little desk in my bedroom on Fowler Street.) I pick up groceries, and head home for more school work and then lunch; then I cycle and walk uphill to Robin Hood Park for my outdoor beauty-walk treat at the reservoir. My assignments are worthwhile and interesting, making schoolwork an effective way to mitigate that whisper of loneliness that hovers close by, here in graduate-school land.

But the best comfort routine of all is my daily evening phone call to Ken--thank you, dear Skype Angel! Ken reads me my mail, and we exchange all the inconsequential news of our respective days. We communicate anything that needs to be communicated to each other, but mostly we just simply hang out together, sharing the same ear space, so to speak. I grouse at him if he has the TV on, or rustles papers near the microphone, or tries to walk around while we're connected, but we often look things up on the net (since we're on line with Skype, anyway) or email things (like photos) to each other while we're 'together' on Skype. I love talking to my kids as well, and to Kaliana! It is incredibly reassuring to be able to access home so cheaply and easily!

The soul's connection this week:

I feel my own force, bearing fruit
And gaining strength to give me to the world.
My inmost being I feel charged with power
To turn with clearer insight
Toward the weaving of life's destiny.

Holiday Weekend

OAK FOLLOWS MAPLE
Two and three weeks ago the maples here were exploding with flaming colour; now those leaves have mostly fallen, and the oaks are a most delicious shade of honey-bronze. We breathed it in as we walked around the reservoir at Robin Hood Park this past weekend--my daughter, Rose, her partner, Ze'ev and yours truly. Rose and Ze'ev drove down from Ottawa on Hallowe'en for a visit, and treated me to a delightful weekend of exploring a bit of New Hampshire by car. We 'touched down' in nearby Roxbury, Monadnock State Park, Peterborough, Portsmouth on the Piscataqua River, and Newcastle, where we glimpsed some of New Hampshire's sixteen miles of seacoast. See all about it by visiting my web album! The three of us were blessed with a brilliantly sunny Sunday for driving about, although it was much chillier than you would guess by viewing the photos. And no wonder, for WINTER begins in two days, according to Liza Dalby in East Wind Melts the Ice. The season of frost peaks around the December solstice, cold strengthens as days begin to lengthen, and early spring follows close upon the heels of Brigid's Day, which is February first.

My Rose and her Ze'ev are the cute couple in the photo on this page. My generous landlady, Jan, welcomed them into her home, and put them up in one of her rooms which is conveniently, temporarily vacant. Jan introduced Rose and Ze'ev to her gentle pups Precious, Safi, Hero and Winnie, and they all seemed to enjoy meeting one another. Jan also treated us to a visit with her ball python, Diablo. You can see by the photo of me that Diablo is a charming fellow. The oak leaves were photographed at Strawbery Banke, an outdoor historical museum of vintage houses and gardens in Portsmouth. The Piscataqua River is nice, but we were hoping to see the Atlantic Ocean in Portsmouth. We drove a little further on to Newcastle, and the scenic view above was shot by Rose, as we admired the late afternoon sunlight at the real, true seacoast. On our way back toward Keene we ogled the multi-million-dollar homes along the sandy beaches of Hampton.

Rose and Ze'ev were intrigued by some of the presidential election preparations here. Saturday morning, there was a rally at Keene's Central Square. Saturday afternoon, we saw crews setting up in Peterborough for John McCain's Sunday visit there. Sunday evening, driving west from the coast back to Keene, there were police cars with flashing lights at regular intervals all along the highway. Some access ramps were blocked off, and we were barred from making a necessary turn toward Keene. Ze'ev drove a little further along the highway; then turned around in time for us to see the black McCain campaign bus make the turn toward Peterborough, followed by a couple of campaign support buses. McCain Blend and Obama Blend coffee beans are offered for sale in Keene, and we were invited to join 'the action' at Obama's campaign headquarters this morning as we drove in search of a downtown parking spot. Tomorrow is voting day for American citizens, and the rest will be history.

I felt just a little sad and lonely to see Rose and Ze'ev head back to Ottawa this afternoon, but oh, what lovely memories! I would NEVER keep track of my time away from home, but I've done nine weeks in Keene since the end of August, and I have seven left to go until my trip to Edmonton for Christmas. I booked my flight home for May 2009 as well, so I can go ahead and write countdown numbers in my daytimer--a number every Friday, to track the weeks until returning to Edmonton. Oh ya, I said I wouldn't track my time away, didn't I?

KEENE PUMPKIN FESTIVAL
Between 1992 and 2003 Keene chalked up eight world records for the most pumpkins appearing at their annual pumpkin festival. I do believe this is the biggest public event that Keene celebrates each year. Riding my bicycle to and from the university the weekend of October 25, I 'participated' in this year's festival by admiring the tall scaffolds loaded with rows of jack-o'-lanterns, and crossing paths with crowds of festival-goers. The Saturday-night fireworks were splendid, viewed from my second-storey bedroom window!

COURSE WORK AND CLASS VISITS
To fulfill our drama requirement, my class of thirteen is learning The Shepherd's Play, a musical play telling the Mary, Joseph and Jesus story, that is traditionally performed in Waldorf schools. We will be presenting it in a nearby community hall in mid-December. I have been cast as the hallowed Angel Gabriel, and I have a glorious solo to sing. I continue to keep up with assigned readings, reports, drawings, and my research paper on Tolstoy. It was my turn to introduce 'my philosopher' in class last Friday. Rather than impersonating the novelist himself, I chose to present myself as Countess Sophie Andreevna Tolstoy introducing my husband. Don't you know, my Lyovochka and I had thirteen children together, ten of whom survived infancy and early childhood. I ran the household, nursed my babies and tutored them myself, transcribed War and Peace and Anna Karenina from Leo's illegible scribbles into my own clear handwriting, felt that I was participating intimately in the lives of his wonderful story characters, organized the publication of the novels, and translated my husband's work into French and German!
. . . just an ordinary housewife . . .
A favourite assignment of my Waldorf instructors is to have students create a 'notebook' or 'journal,' including notes taken during class, personal reflections on the material studied, and in some cases, illustrations or some form of artistic rendering of the course content. For my painting class, my watercolour notebook includes miniatures of our class painting assignments, illustrating the steps along the way to completing each painting. Re-copying my notes makes my arm ache from time to time, but it's an excellent review, and keeps the learning fresh in my mind.

Thanks to classmates willing to drive me to schools in different towns, I have completed my required visits to various Waldorf elementary classrooms, and have come to the conclusion that there are have and have-not teachers. Some teachers have their classes--the children are focused and engaged, and teaching and learning carry on in a lively, interesting fashion. Other teachers have not 'got' their classes. Children fidget and squirm frightfully, rock or jump with or even fall out of their chairs, and receive 'strikes' so that they have to serve penalties by standing motionless beside their desks. The have-not teachers struggle continually to earn the attention of their charges, and this is all quite uncomfortable for the visitor (me) to observe. I would like to offer a single tip to the have-not teachers out there: After making a request of the children, such as, for example, 'Leave the chairs alone,' wait for all hands to come off of the chairs before proceeding with your activity. The waiting is the indication that the behavior is required, in order for the lesson to continue. It is simple and effective.

Here we are, part-way between Michaelmas and Winter Solstice, in the thirty-first week of the soul year that began at Easter. Consider Steiner's seasonal verse for us:

The light from spirit depths

Strives to ray outwards, sun-imbued;

Transformed to forceful will of life

It shines into the senses' dullness

To bring to birth the powers

Whereby creative forces, soul-impelled,

Shall ripen into human deeds.

Unwired

SQUIRRELS AND CHIPMUNKS HUSTLE

It may well be that these critters were busy all summer, but I have certainly been noticing them this past month, especially while cycling to the university for morning classes. The squirrels in Edmonton tend to be smallish and red, with somewhat scrawny tails. The ones here are of the grey variety, with splendiferous bushy tails. They are so big that I mistook one for a hare, and another for a cat. They run across the bike path with their tails streaming gracefully behind them in a horizontal S-shape. And the chipmunks run so quickly, they are downright comical! Those stripes along their sides must be the original racing stripes.

I am truly receiving the total immersion experience in Waldorf/Anthroposophy that I wanted, when I decided to come to Keene. Isolating myself from family, friends, and my usual life activities is a sacrifice that creates space in my life and in my consciousness for that which I came here to learn. Most mornings there is no need to rise early (pure luxury, I know!) and I am able to allow my thoughts free rein, to ponder questions from my reading, revelations from my lectures, or creative ways to fulfill various homework assignments. Wonderful ideas have arisen this way!

A lot of 'thinking noise' has been eliminated through simplifying my daily habits, and through cutting way back on my exposure to media. I don't read the newspaper, watch television, or listen to the radio, and I don't even listen to music. Gary (one of my house mates) keeps me up-to-date on economic trials and tribulations, and Ken makes sure I'm informed about stabbings on Greyhound buses and Canadian football scores (no, I'm not a football fan). Current events seem to be capable of marching along, without my presence in the audience. My extracurricular/social life is virtually non-existent. I cook for myself using fresh, basic ingredients, I walk or ride my bike to get to where I need to go, and I've been in a car only twice since my arrival in Keene five weeks ago! It's a simpler life than my usual one, an almost unwired life. I do spend a lot of time on my computer--I rely upon it, in fact, to communicate with the university, to do research and some of my homework, to check the weather forecast so that I can dress appropriately, and to connect with Home through emails and cheap Skype phone calls.

My friend Audrey asked about what I am studying.

PAINTING
On Thursday we learned that no two people can observe the same rainbow at the same time. Picture an observer standing on the ground, and imagine a line passing through a point at the height of the observer's eye, at a 42-degree angle to the horizontal line of the ground. A rainbow is observed at this angle of 42 degrees, determined by the ground and the position of the observer's eye. Your rainbow cannot be the same one as my rainbow. In general, we are learning about Goethe's Colour Theory, his colour circle, and his fifteen colour combinations, used as the basis of the Waldorf painting curriculum. According to Goethe, colour is objective, with each hue having specific inherent soul qualities, rather than subjective. Blue and yellow are the two mother colours. They reach down together to form green, the Doorway to Earth. As yellow rises, it becomes more concentrated, tending toward gold and then orange, whereas blue tends to dissipate and 'frees up' into purple. They reach upward toward each other and give birth to red, the Doorway to Heaven.

EVOLVING CONSCIOUSNESS
In our study of the spiritual (not religious) origins of the Cosmos and humankind, we learned about Atlantis and its oracles and mystery centres, each associated with a different planetary consciousness. The highest spiritual consciousness was that of the Sun Being, the Christ principle (although this was long before the Christ being was incarnated on Earth). Misuse of human powers (which we no longer have) to affect plant and animal forces of growth and reproduction led to depravity. In anthroposophy everything affects everything else: messing up plant life messed up the water element; thus, the continent was destroyed by the Great Flood. (According to Tanis Helliwell, pigs are the result of egregious genetic experiments on Atlantis, involving human and animal. This is why I don't eat pork.) There is a link between some parts of Ireland, and remnants of Atlantean consciousness, through the hybernian mysteries (which I know nothing about, yet!)

PHILOSOPHER/EDUCATOR
We (in my class) each have a philosopher/educator as the topic of a major research paper. Mine is Leo Tolstoy (yup, the Russian author), who ran and taught at a free school on his estate for the children of his serfs. When I say 'free,' I mean that those children were free to attend or not, to participate or not, and quite free in terms of Behavior and Decorum. It was all very 'easy come, easy go,' right down to the fact that the headmaster up and abandoned the school 'experiment' after four years, ending this opportunity for the children so that Tolstoy could head off on a new and different life adventure. He was an extreme non-conformist; a flamboyant, eccentric rogue!

I intended to review all of my courses here, but I'm realizing that I lost most of my readers (picture throngs of avid fans here!) back when I typed the words, 'what I am studying.'

September 29 was Michaelmas, the autumn festival that is celebrated in Waldorf schools as one of the four major annual seasonal festivals. In Steiner's Calendar of the Soul this marks the midpoint of the soul/seasonal year, week 26. This week's verse and the verse for the first week after Christmas are the only two that include the significant phrase, sense of self.
Voila:

Nature, your maternal life
I bear within the essence of my will.
And my will's fiery energy
Shall steel my spirit striving,
That sense of self springs forth from it
To hold me in myself.

Oh, Baba!

My daughter Laura birthed a baby boy, Kai Parker, at 1:05 a.m. on Thursday, October 2. He arrived within ten minutes of her arrival at the hospital, and weighed in at seven pounds, four ounces. I am holding my breath until Christmastime, when I will get to hold my grandson for the first time!

I heard of this blessed event in an email from Laura's sister, which I received while in the computer lab at Antioch University. I was all pumped up, with no one to hug! I attended my classes vibrating inside, and finding it difficult to rub two thoughts together in my Proud Baba brain.

I thank Laura for bringing this wonderful new life into the world, Rose for bringing this wonderful news to me, Laura's father for providing a reassuring update on mother's and baby's well-being, and Christina for caring for Big Sister Kaliana and for sending out the photos that made it all seem real.

Hallelujah, and joy to the world!

My Classes Begin

SEPTEMBER RAINS

I realize that it rained and stormed plenty, in New Hampshire during July and August, but on Saturday I rode my bike through a downpour caused by the tail end of Hurricane Hannah! (not that big of a deal, admittedly--no high winds, just wet, wet rain). I failed to learn my lesson, however, and ventured forth on my bike yesterday in a light rain that turned quite nasty on my way to the supermarket. I coped with the increasingly startling thunderclaps by swearing under my breath (not very granny-like, and not very Waldorfy, at all, I know). When it rains in New Hampshire, everything seems very dark--darker than when it rains in Edmonton. I really think those wide-open prairie skies let a lot of light shine upon us northern Canadians. Maybe it seems dark here because of the big old, beautiful trees, with their dense foliage. I thought the weather might continue as hot as blazes all month, but I found yesterday and today to be quite chilly, and hooray!--this afternoon the postman delivered my box of winter jackets, boots, and warm woollies that I had mailed to myself from Edmonton.

So, it's not really MY bike at all--Jan, my landlady, has given me the use of one of the bikes sitting in her yard. I had it tuned up and fitted with some safety and comfort gadgets, and wow, cycling is way easier and way more fun than walking! I have more Keene photos to show you, and if you're like me, you'll find looking at them a lot more interesting than reading this dry, black-and-white blog post. Just click here! Could I possibly wish for anything more, here in Keene? Well . . . perhaps a DESK, or someone to HANG OUT WITH, like my KEN, or one/some/all of my KIDS, or some of my BUDDIES, or my GRANDDAUGHTER.

I was very excited to get into classes last Thursday, re-connect with my twelve classmates, and orient myself to the layout of the university. It's a single building, quite small really, but friendly, inviting, and comfortable. Last week was just a two-day week, and we received lots of meaty assignments to carry us through until our next class day, tomorrow. We 'had to' compose a song on the recorder, draw a main lesson book picture, transcribe our notes on Goethe's Colour Trinity into a keepsake painting journal, find and identify symbols in some folk tales, read, read, read and prepare to present excerpts from our reading. I've done just about everything (of course). Our schedule is unusual--we attend classes Thursdays from 4:00 to 8:30, Fridays from 8:30 to 6:30, and almost every Saturday from 9:00 to 5:00. From September to December we will use some of our weekdays for visits to Waldorf schools in the area, and from January to May we will have a full schedule, carrying out internships (i.e. student teaching) in Waldorf classrooms.

I love the 'bits' that are stimulating because they are new or challenging for me--Goethe's Colour Theory and anthroposophy, the 'head' bits. (For example, Steiner provides information about the origins of human life that includes, but goes far beyond, what we know from science, religion and mythology. This week we read about the first of Earth's four evolutionary phases. All we were as people were subtle warmth bodies, without consciousness. Non-physical spiritual beings worked with us and through us, generating the next stage of development for us, for themselves, and for the planet. The first hints of the five senses became apparent. The first sounds were born. The first glimmers of light were perceptible. Time began. Earth was like a mirror, reflecting the beginnings of Life into the cosmos. How did Steiner come up with this stuff? He 'walked around backstage,' checking out the soul-spirit nature of everything that we can see and hear and touch. Every one of us can learn to 'go backstage,' as well, but it takes a lot of time, self-discipline and persistence to travel the path. Why learn about all this stuff? To stretch our capacity for imaginative thinking; to begin to learn what humans are all about, so that we can begin to learn what children are all about, so that we can identify what they need and bring it to them in our classrooms.)

I love the 'bits' that are fun and easy for me--singing, drawing, painting, playing recorder, reciting and memorizing, the 'heart & hands' bits. Not everyone in my program is pursuing a Master's degree, and I believe (although I'm not entirely certain of this) that I'm the only one among us who has experienced the responsibility of planning for and teaching a class of students entirely on my own.

Three of my four house mates have been away for part of this week. When I have the house to myself, the main-floor area is quiet enough that I can read and make notes at the kitchen table. When others are around, I have been working in the Antioch library or using my bed in lieu of a desk. In between going to classes, working on assignments, and taking pictures, I have been practicing my cycling skills and cooking meals for one. So there you have it--my first two (almost) weeks in a nutshell.

From Steiner:

There dims in damp autumnal air
The senses' luring magic;
The light's revealing radiance
Is dulled by hazy veils of mist.
In distances around me I can see
The autumn's winter sleep;
The summer's life has yielded
Itself into my keeping.

Walking Around Keene

CRICKET CONCERTO
and TURNING of the LEAVES

My route from the airport to Keene on Friday (August 29) took me across one of the famed covered bridges of the region. It was dark when the taxi pulled up to my house on Fowler Street, and the crickets were kicking up a ruckus (just as they are this evening, outside my bedroom window). From the airplane window, the forests still resemble dark green broccoli, however the tippy-tops of the maples in Keene are crossing over to orange and red, and the first maple leaves are swirling on the lawns and sidewalks.

Today was the fourth of five free days for me, before my classes begin on Thursday. My goal for these days is to teach myself to feel at home in this tidy furnished bedroom, in this sprawling, older home with my new house mates Jan, Gary, Caitlin, Hannah, four dogs and a ball python that eats live rats, and in this charming New England city, with its colonial architecture and its hot, humid weather. I've been walking, walking, walking every day, returning to the house with groceries in my backpack (much heavier than the kind of groceries I carry in the trunk of my car in Edmonton!), and changing my shirt each day in the middle of the afternoon. I visited my new university today and yesterday, to familiarize myself with the route. Unfortunately, Main Street happens to be an unavoidable part of my daily path, and I was distracted both days by the enticements of the intriguing shops along my way.

If you click on 'tidy furnished bedroom,' you will see photos of my room, as well as the house, and shots taken at an Art in the Park show that I visited on Sunday. I fell in love with the art of Don Reed, at the show--it would be wonderful if he would teach his technique in a class, and if I could attend that class! The painting I've included in this post is his work, and you can view more, and read about his technique, on Don's web site.

Jan, my landlady, is a collector, and she has a couple/few bikes in her yard. She offered me the use of one of them, and I walked it down to Andy's Bike Shop today for a tune-up and some extras--bell, basket, fenders and light. I've been reading about derailleurs and how to shift gears, and I'm excited about learning to ride a multi-speed bike, and having one to use during my year in Keene.

It was more difficult than I anticipated, to wrench myself away from The Good Life in Edmonton. I am reluctant to admit to how much fun I'm having here, because I know I am greatly missed by people that I love in Edmonton. On the other hand, they (you!) support my adventure, and hope that I will enjoy it thoroughly. I understand that this is Something Big that I am doing just for me, and my being away demands a real sacrifice from those who love me and who are close to me. I am grateful indeed.

Steiner, from The Calendar of the Soul:

The light from world-wide spaces
Works on within with living power;
Transformed to light of soul
It shines into the spirit depths
To bring to birth the fruits
Whereby out of the self of worlds
The human self in course of time shall ripen.

What fruits from this time in our lives will ripen in due course?

Season of Red Rose Hips

According to Liza Dalby, author of East Wind Melts the Ice, summer softened into autumn around August 5th, and the new season will reach its zenith at the time of the equinox, on September 22. Walking at Glendalough last week, I noticed that the rose hips had ripened, and was reminded of the autumn seven years ago when I gathered a potful of them to make jam. It was just before my hip replacement revision surgery (get it--hips?).

It's been so long since my magical weekend in Ottawa, visiting my lovely eldest daughter, Rose, and her terrific partner, Ze'ev! They were wonderful hosts, and highlights of the visit for me include going on a Haunted Walking Tour and visiting the old Ottawa jail, exploring the town of Wakefield, nearby in Quebec, and our picnic by the Rideau Canal. Yes, I took photos, and yes, you can go and see them now--don't be shy, there are only five little photos to view!

I spent my August recuperating after my car crash, catching up on appointments to my doctor, dentist, fingernail tech, hairdresser, and so on. I spent a day at the Edmonton Folkfest, and re-connected with several friends there. Ken and I enjoyed a lovely dinner with our wonderful friends, Starla and Pat, just last night. We attended his brother's wedding in Regina, as well as a Saskatchewan Roughriders football game! I re-connected with my past by finishing the Great Slide Scanning Project, converting my father's collection of twenty-three hundred slides to digital files, so that I can send them to my sister in North Carolina. After for sitting for two or three hours at the scanner, when I stood up I found I needed to give myself a little shake to come back to the present--I am no longer a young mother with cute kids in tow, but that time of my life remains very real and present for me.

I re-connected with three of my grown children when they treated me to a pot-luck supper at my place, at a baby shower for my Laura, and through some very special visits with my Kaliana. Kaliana loves to play with water, wade at Paul Kane park, smell flowers, hug trees, twirl with her Baba, be tickled by Ken, help cook at the kitchen counter, open doors and slam them shut, and smell the bars of scented soap in her Baba's underwear drawer. Laura is potty-training Kaliana at the moment, so I forgave her when she suggested that my clay masterpieces (shown in my July 27 post) might be representations of poop! Please click to view my clay buddha and sphinx sculptures.

I enjoyed two special visits--one, with my original mother-in-law, at her house, admiring photos of her lifetime, put together in honor of her eightieth birthday, and the other, with my original father-in-law and his wife, at the hospital, where he was recovering from surgery.

It has been a bittersweet August for me, gathering special moments to remember through the coming weeks (okay, months) on my own in New Hampshire, and not wanting to say good-bye. At first I was quite worried about my hearing, which was damaged in my mishap of August 1st--a concussion to the auditory nerves, which will take some time to heal. I feel much better about my hearing now, after talking to my dentist and audiologist. Now I just wear my hearing aids when my brain needs a rest from straining to hear, and I take them out when my ears need a rest from hearing so much.

I have never packed for a sixteen-week trip before, and yes, it is a challenge--of course, I want to take more than I have room for. I fly away early on Friday, August 29. I'm home for two short weeks at Christmastime, December 20 to January 3. Then comes the longest stretch of all, away from home from January to mid-May.

Words to contemplate:

I feel strange power, bearing fruit
And gaining strength to give myself to me.
I sense the seed maturing
And expectation, light-filled, weaving
Wthin me on my selfhood's power.

Autumn blessings of strength to you.

Blessings and Opportunities

Ten thousand years ago, while planning this current lifetime, I made an entry into my karmic daybook for August 1, 2008: 1:30 p.m. Eastern Time--meet a tree. Following the suggestions of my Evolving Consciousness instructor, I am now offering my heartfelt thanks to:

• the beautiful, loving and forgiving young woman who loaned me her car
• the 1994 Toyota Corolla, with its standard transmission
• my own series of, let's call them 'lapses,' leading to my inability to apply the brake in a timely manner
• the tree to whom I so abruptly introduced myself
• the overly-enthusiastic airbag that caught me by surprise (what an understatement!)
• the crash and my injuries, that opened up the opportunity to fulfill my karma and receive a series of wonderful life blessings!

I don't know who reads this blog, but no one need worry--I am fine. Glad to be home in Edmonton, resting and healing, but fine. I still feel overwhelmed when I remember the love, kindness, and magical healing ministrations of 'strangers' who dropped their plans to spend time with me immediately following my collision. I was held and nurtured by these very skillful angels, who simply took the pain away. I am especially grateful to Karen, her husband Ken, and their little boy Coco, as well as the young man who Reiki'ed my feet. In the hospital, later that day, the doctor informed me that the following day I would feel as though I had been 'trampled by a bull,' but there was very little pain, and no need to fill the prescription for Percocet that I had been given.

What in the Cosmos was going on, on August first? When I arrived at the house where I would be staying for two nights, there was a note on the table from the landlady, saying that she had been in a car accident that day, and had gone to the emergency room! Thousands of miles away, my son-in-law also bumped a tree with his vehicle! And yesterday evening my dear husband Ken--the best driver in the world--rear-ended another vehicle while driving his truck home from work!

The day after I arrived home, two of my daughters had startling news to share, and I realized that every one of my four children is in the midst of a major life transition just now. My entire immediate family is being shaken up in the Divine Cosmic Dice Tumbler. My oldest daughter, Rose, has terrific news that I feel I can report here: she has accepted her First Real Career Job, as co-facilitator of a group program for twenty-five abusive men (you couldn't pay me a million dollars to do it, but she's thrilled)!

What has Steiner got to say about all of this?

Can I expand my soul
That it unites itself
With cosmic Word received as seed?
I sense that I must find the strength
to fashion worthily my soul
as fitting raiment for the spirit.

May we indeed be strong enough and worthy enough to meet these events and carry them forward in our lives as blessings and opportunities.

Artist in Residence

When one has hearing loss, it is often difficult to discern the direction of the source of a sound, and whether it is coming from near or far. These are essential clues in helping to identify a particular sound. Due to these difficulties, I sometimes feel foolish when I hear something and make a remark about it that seems way off base, to my conversational partner. This is why I hesitated to say anything about a remarkable sound that I have been hearing every morning here at High Mowing, when walking past the gym on my way to breakfast. I wondered whether it was an owl, going, "Hoo! Hoo!" (On the other hand, perhaps it was Johnny One-Note practicing his flute, or a squeaky wheel on the air circulation fan of the gym.) Yesterday I screwed up my courage and asked my fellow student Jennifer whether this was, indeed, an owl. No, it is the call of the delightful mourning dove! Jennifer was able to point out one of these beautiful birds to me, as it stood calmly on the road, and she can even play its call on her pentatonic flute! I find the bird enchanting, and found this photo on Wikipedia. Jennifer kindly drove me to Keene yesterday, and I was quite excited to finally see the charming place that will be my home for the year.

One of the treats of this three-week summer intensive term has been my clay modeling class. We began our work together by modeling a perfect sphere. We passed our spheres from hand to hand to compare them, and then transformed them gradually, using pressure from our hands, into tetrahedrons (four surfaces, all equilateral triangles). Sometimes the hand knows more than the eye, and I particularly enjoyed forming my tetrahedron with my eyes closed. By exerting pressure on the points of our tetrahedrons, they gradually became octahedrons. Next step: press carefully on the points of the octahedron, to make an intermediate shape on the path to cube-dom called a cuboctahedron--all squares and triangles! Final step (only one of my classmates was successful in accomplishing this feat): press on all the points to gradually create twelve perfect interlocking pentagons--dodecahedron, ta-da! Plato introduced the world to the mysteries of the five platonic solids, which are fun (and easy!) to make out of paper or card.

New project: we each made a half-egg shape out of clay; then spent most of the two-hour class period blindfolded, adding little bits of clay to build up a face on our shaped bases. (That time my hand didn't seem to know as much as my eye!) And here are two more of my sculptures, the first one exploring convex and concave surfaces, and the second one expressing a twisting, out-reaching gesture inspired by driftwood. Can you tell I'm having fun already?






This week's message for your soul:

To bear in inward keeping spirit bounty
Is stern command of my prophetic feeling,
That ripened gifts divine
Maturing in the depths of soul
To selfhood bring their fruits.

Shutterbug

Thank you for peeking into my world and sharing some of my indoor and outdoor views from High Mowing School, Wilton, New Hampshire.

. . . and if these are not enough photos for you, you are invited to visit my Picasa web album, for a few more views of the area where I'm living and studying. It's been a hectic week of new faces, new places, and new classes--exciting and overwhelming, but in a good way. My classmates are wonderful--mostly in their twenties, but nevertheless very accepting of an Old Girl--and I think I'll keep them for the year! I've spent a quiet weekend of catching up on my assignments, and YES, I have a battery for my watch, so all's right with the world!

If I were to write Nature Notes this week, they would be about bats and butterflies, but I am not, so neither are they.

Words of Wisdom from The Great Guru:

I feel enchanted weaving
Of spirit within outer glory.
In dullness of the senses
It has enwrapt my being
In order to bestow the strength
Which in its narrow bounds my "I"
Is powerless to give itself.

Living my Dream.

My Adventure Begins

FRIDAY MORNING, BASKET CASE
Put it down to separation anxiety.
I'm in the condo, ready to leave for the airport. Ken loads my suitcases into my car, in the underground parking garage. Should I go down, or wait until he comes up? I haven't worn a watch in years, relying on my cell phone to keep track of the time, but now I have had my cell phone disconnected, and I have no battery for my watch. Are we running late? Does it matter? I don't want to take my keys with me to New Hampshire. I hang up my car key, take my condo key with me, and go down to the garage. Ken has gone up, and the car is locked. I go back up to the condo. Ken suggests I go back down and wait for him in the car--he'll only be a minute. I hang up my condo key, take my car key with me, and go down to the garage. I go the way I always go: I exit the building, take the outside stairs, and . . . without the condo key, I can't get into the garage. I have succeeded in locking myself out. I'm gonna lose it. I observe my own behavior, as if watching a bad movie (this, by the way, is not a helpful strategy). I swallow, and run around three sides of the building to the front gate. I dial our code, 2016. The recorded voice tells me that my local call is proceeding, and reminds me that in future I must dial the area code. I'm losing it! I'm losing it! I swallow, hard. Ken does not answer. My pulse kicks it up a notch. I dial 780-2016. The display tells me this is not a valid code. Rapid, shallow breathing. I dial 2016 again, listen to the recorded message and the ringing again, and wonder whether Ken is sitting in the car, waiting for me in the garage. I can't do this! I've lost it! I've lost it! Rapid-fire thoughts: Will he go back up to the condo to look for me? Will he think to look out of the window and see me in the driveway? Will he hear me if he's in the garage, and I hammer on the garage door? My eyes start to run. Screaming silently (I hope!) I run back around three sides of the building to the garage door. My dear, sensible husband has the car in the driveway. He sees me. I try to let myself feel flooded with relief. I try to listen as I tell myself it's all okay. I try to resume breathing. I am rescued, but am I sane?

SATURDAY
Ken was extremely understanding about my meltdown in the car, the flights were fine, the airports were fine, U.S. customs was fine, my room in the dorm is A-okay, if a little plain and bare, and I even slept well. I should have brought more food with me from the airport--I'm so hungry my tummy hurts. I went to sleep making a short mental grocery list, knowing that all my meals are provided here, on weekdays only. Oh, yes, and I'll definitely need to pick up some sunscreen, as well. I understand it's a bit of a hike into Wilton (the town closest to the school where I'm taking the three-week summer program). A lovely fellow student here, named Mary, gives me the news that Wilton has no grocery store, and no pharmacy!!! She shares her oatmeal with me, enabling me to face the morning world. It is storybook-lovely here--forest, stone fences, wildflower meadows, distant blue hills, continuous birdsong, cows, and it's fairly humid and very warm. In true May Louise fashion, I walk for what feels like well over 40 minutes before checking my course with some guy in his driveway, only to find out that I should have turned left instead of right when I left the school. I estimate (because I can't tell time without a watch) that it takes me over 1 1/2 hours to do the 40-minute walk down the hill into Wilton. I promise myself that I'll take a cab back to the school.

Hey! There's a bank open on a Saturday in Wilton, but they won't cash my traveler's cheque--I need a roll of quarters for my laundry--because my driver's license was not issued within the United States. (Do you have a passport? Sure, in my dorm room, 40 minutes up the hill.) Each time I ask a shopkeeper about a battery for my watch, I get directed to one or another of several nearby towns. There's a cafe, but it's closed. There's a pizza place open. I order three meals--one to eat there, and the others to pack 'home' with me, for Saturday supper and Sunday breakfast. I refuse to feel ridiculous. For a 'local' taxi, I would have to call one from another town (how much would that add to the fare?), and it just feels like less effort to keep walking instead. I find the art supply store, buy what they have in stock on the list of required materials for my summer classes, and head back toward the school, this time uphill, and with my backpack full. I check the time before I leave town, and again when I arrive at my dorm--a full hour!

I'm tired, my pinky toes hurt on both feet where my sandal straps have pressed on my toenails (the left one is actually black & blue), my shoulder muscles hurt, my linen top is wringing wet, and I'm superwoman!! I'm my own hero!! I've created solutions to my little problems, I've found a way to feed myself, I've returned to that bank with a ten-dollar bill and received my quarters, and although I can feel my hips, they aren't overly painful. As a matter of fact, they have carried me all that way quite admirably, thank you very much. I have a refreshing shower, and spend the rest of the afternoon smugly reading my book, outside, with my proud feet lovingly propped up on their own chair.

SUNDAY
This morning it all began, with an opening reception for new students in my own program, as well as other programs beginning here these three summer weeks. As I found my folder, labeled in calligraphy with my name, I recognized that I was experiencing what my Heart & Hands students might feel when they find their name tags at their table places, on the first day of a new school year. Someone anticipated and prepared for my arrival here. I unexpectedly teared up a little, as I picked up a bookmark and fridge magnet (no, it is not necessarily silly to get sentimental over a fridge magnet!) with the very familiar Antioch University slogan and artwork copied above--it's really, finally happening for me! Two days ago I felt like crying because I didn't want to leave my loved ones and familiar life; today I felt like crying because I am so deeply grateful to be stepping into the first day of the fulfillment of my Dream of a Lifetime.

Yes! You can make your dreams come true! And, no! You're never too old!

Swarm

I encountered my first bee swarm at Wabamun Lake on June 21. My daughter Laura, her daughter Kaliana, and my son Jonathan were doing our customary walk around the north end of Moonlight Bay on a hot Saturday afternoon. Our path took us down a grassy slope, past a tall spruce. I noticed many bees flying and buzzing near the tree, and looked for a hive or nest. It was a swarm, much like the one in the photo, about as big as my head, in the shape of two inverted cones, side by side--phenomenal! The bees seemed to take no notice of us as we passed by, and on our way back to the cabin, the swarm had merged into a single rounded cone shape. The bee swarm web site that I found informed me that "The cohesiveness of the swarm is due to their attraction to a pheromone produced by the queen. The swarm will send out scout bees to seek a cavity to nest in and will move on when a suitable nesting site is found." It suggested that one could contact a local beekeeper, to see whether (s)he would like to come and try to 'collect' the swarm. Imagine witnessing that feat!

Tomorrow is the day that I take flight, myself, on my Learning Adventure of a Lifetime to New Hampshire. For me, this early summer season has been one of sweet farewells.

The Heart & Hands family camping day on June 8 had a shaky start, with no available venue for our activities. As I stood in the wind (I'm not very good with wind), gnawing on my knuckles and feeling responsible, families gamely threw frisbees to each other, explored the open field; the frisky beach; the playground equipment, helping themselves to the good fun they had expected to enjoy together. Here I am, collecting twigs on our nature walk through the woods. And surprise! The families gathered to present me with this glowing golden quilt, with blocks designed and created by the children themselves.


The last weekend in May I was graced with the opportunity to serve as a co-leader, with four other musician/DUP (that's Dances of Universal Peace) leaders, at Sylvan Lake. We exchanged hundreds (yes!) of email messages through the winter months, planning and preparing for this event. I wanted to do my best for the retreat participants, and for our leadership team. I was serious about practicing and preparing my role, and willing to work hard during the retreat itself. I was uplifted by the glory of the music that we created together, and it wasn't until after the retreat that I realized what a gift I had been given, in terms of my own growing and stretching and connecting and receiving from the experience of working with such wonderful, open-hearted leaders, organizers, and participants. With extraordinary vision, thoughtfulness and attention to detail, the organizers succeeded in lifting this retreat experience out of the realm of ordinary every-day-ness for everyone who attended.










Our wind-up In Her Voices Pot Luck Supper and Concert was held on Friday (of course!) June 13 (it would be too, too boring to be linear and chronological), and I was SO thrilled that Ken, Laura, Kaliana and Kay chose to be there. It's a good thing this proud baba wasn't wearing a button-up shirt--I would have burst those buttons for sure, I was so full of the joy of being able to show off that grandbaby to my beloved Luscious Women! I think every single person needs loved ones in their life who are willing to let them be a Star every little once in a while. My great-hearted mother-in-law has been one of my biggest fans since . . . oh, since about 1972. wow. Thank you, Kay!

8:00 now . . . time for my Air Canada web check-in. I consider myself to be a semi-experienced traveler, and a Good Packer, but for the first time, this time I understand why people may tend to procrastinate when it comes to packing their bags for a trip. Since school ended (June 25, and it seems like months, rather than mere weeks ago, now) I've been Bothered by Big-time Butterflies about leaving. I'm caught in a surreal never-land, between My Real Life and my anticipated adventure. My life has never been better--everywhere I go, everything I do, I'm surrounded by people who have generously opened their hearts to connect with me. Everyone is a warm, sincere hugger! Why am I leaving? What was I thinking? Three weeks, yes, but a whole, long, wintry school year?

Don't take me too seriously; my mother used to call me Sarah Bernhardt. I know I'll enjoy the studying, and New Hampshire, and the people, and I know everyone here will be fine. Let's just say that the leave-taking is challenging, and leave it at that.

Here's Rudolf Steiner, with his wisdom for June 30 to July 6*:

And when I live in senses' heights,
There flames up deep within my soul
Out of the spirit's fiery worlds
The gods' own word of truth:
In spirit sources seek expectantly
To find your spirit kinships.

*I know, that was last week, but something in me wishes to connect this meditation with this particular posting.

Yoo-hoo! I'm back!

Yes, Life intervened, and it has been a full year since my last post. Sharing my blog address with 'my' Heart & Hands families this month has prompted my return to the keyboard.

This past Sunday my husband and I were joined for lunch at Glendalough (our cabin on Wabamun Lake) by my daughter Rose, her partner Ze'ev, Ze'ev's parents Ida and Ilya, and their friends Jhana and Sacha. I've decided that Ida, Ilya, Jhana and Sacha are Wildlife Magnets, after listening to their tales of Close Encounters (and seeing the Evidence on Ilya's digital camera!) during their recent travels through Banff and Jasper National Parks. While sitting at the table we were graced by a visit from a flock of splendid white pelicans. I spotted them out on the lake, and they entertained us by soaring and landing quite close to the shoreline in front of Glendalough--thrilling!

The first time I can remember seeing a pelican in the wild was in the San Francisco area, possibly in 1971. For most of my life I have thought of pelicans as quite an exotic bird, like an albatross, or a scarlet ibis, perhaps. I wondered if my imagination was running away with me, when I thought I saw one on Wabamun Lake sometime around 1997 (someone's pet pelican had escaped, perhaps?). I shared my astonishing find with a local Old Timer who confided that, sure, pelicans can be seen in the area just about any old time. Apparently, wild pelicans really do 'belong' in Alberta, nesting and breeding here each summer. They became endangered, largely due to human and industrial disturbance of their nesting sites, and provincial legislation and 'management' since 1978 have helped to increase their numbers. Today their population is regarded as stable, although their colonies are said to be sparsely distributed around the province. (See the following website for information.) http://www.srd.gov.ab.ca/fishwildlife/speciesatrisk/selectedprofiles/whitepelican.aspx

I'm trying out the notion of beginning each blog post with a Nature Note, in imitation of Liza Dalby in her book of essays, East Wind Melts the Ice: A Memoir Through the Seasons. Liza is a scholar of Japanese culture, and the author of Geisha, as well as other books. She begins each essay with a cryptic statement from an ancient Chinese almanac that divides the year into 72 seasons of five days each. Liza muses about possible origins and meanings of these pronouncements (for example, June 16 through 20, "The mockingbird loses its voice"), and discusses features of weather, flora and fauna that she has experienced during each of these 'mini-seasons,' while living both in Japan and at her home in northern California. Thus, my pelicans!

The Chinese pronouncements bring to mind the names of some of the moves in the Tai Chi set ("part wild horse's mane;" "grasp bird's tail;" "carry tiger to mountain"). Liza speaks of the interplay between yin and yang through the seasons of the almanac. She argues--and I completely agree!--that the solstices and equinoxes mark the heights, rather than the beginnings, of the four seasons. Therefore, this Friday, June 20th is the apex of our current summer--it began May 5th, and autumn will enter August 5th. Winter will come in on November 5th, and spring, on February 5th. I invite you to try it along with me--see whether your experience of the seasons resonates with this new set of dates.

Liza begins her memoir and her year in the spring, the season of the earth's awakening. So Rudolf Steiner's Calendar of the Soul begins with The Spring Festival, Easter. Here is Steiner's meditation (from the translation by Ruth and Hans Pusch), given for this, the eleventh week of the year:

In this the sun's high hour it rests
With you to understand these words of wisdom:
Surrendered to the beauty of the world,
Be stirred with new-enlivened feeling:
The human "I" can lose itself
And find itself within the cosmic "I."

Power to those Pelicans!!!