A new year and new possibilities

As 2007 draws to a close, these are my wishes:
For our earth, tender, loving care and thank you for all the sunrises, flowers, gentle rains and for growing all of our good green things...For the animals, respect and a soft place to lay your head at night and thank you for all the joy you bring to our daily lives just in being who you are...For all peoples, peace...and my promise to continue to try to be a good citizen of the world...And for my family and friends, grace and wisdom... and thank you for all the love you shared in the past year.

Christmas Eve at Home

For the first time in many years, we were home on Christmas Eve. As the daylight faded, we set a fire and lit the candles. As they do each evening after dinner, the cats and dogs all settled down for their post-dinner-pre-bedtime-nap. Lady graciously shared her dog bed with Shackleton, while Oliver lay in his bed close to the fire. Jim and I sat in our quiet home and enjoyed each others' company, as well as that of the animals. As it became dark, a full moon rose, prompting us to take a walk outside, which we did, admiring the Christmas lights of men and the light from the heavens that illuminated our path.

The Best Gift

This is my Christmas gift: that this whale will not be killed in the name of science. It was announced in the news this weekend that Japan decided not to slay 50 humpbacks as planned. Caving to international opposition, they will leave these endangered animals alone. It is difficult to make sense of the fact that an animal as large as these whales has really so few defenses against preditors; the truth is that many of the calves we saw in Australia don't make it to their southern feeding grounds.
But this Christmas, somewhere far away in the deep blue ocean, 50 whales will be left to make their way in peace. The Christmas star for them will burn brightly.

A simple pleasure

Every morning, sometime shortly after getting out of bed and starting to feed the animals, either Jim or I make coffee. It's usually done brewing by the time the cat food, dog treats (for going outside to use the doggy "facilities"), and rabbit hay, pellets and banana slices are distributed. That first sip of nice hot coffee (usually Caribou) is so delicious and warm and nice. And almost every day, except for the occasional Christmas mug, I use my bird mug. It was a gift several years ago from Jim and has a variety of feeder birds all sitting along a clothes line- Cardinals, Chickadees and the like. Inside near the rim there is a little humming bird flying around. There's something comforting about using my bird mug every morning. It's such a simple thing, but it starts my day off just right- even if my last 1/4 cup is always cold!

My daughter, my friend

Heidi Marie celebrated her 24th birthday on the 17th of December. As every mother does, I think back over all the years since she came into my life on a cold winter morning in Atlanta at 5:33AM: holding her for the first time and annoying the nursery nurses because I kept her in my room all the time; seeing her play as a toddler in her flowered corderoy overalls; french braiding her hair and putting on her makeup in preparation for dance recitals; sitting at a bazillion soccer games from elementary through her senior year; helping her select her prom dresses. We weathered some rough times; there were periods when I didn't think I knew her any more and when I'm sure she wished she didn't know me. We made it through those years, and today, I couldn't be prouder of the woman my daughter has become. She knows who she is and is strong enough to stand up for her beliefs. There is a grounded sense about her that I know will serve her well as the years pass, and her heart is good. She has become a wonderful friend whose opinions I value. I wouldn't trade her for anything!! I love you Heidi!

Humpback Flukes at Sunset

No words can add anything to what you see. Megaptera novaeangliae, the humpback whales of Hervey Bay in Queensland, Australia.
(Photo by a researcher with the whale foundation)

Love

Winnie, my beautiful collie, loves me unconditionally. She waits at the glass front storm door at home, and as I pull into the driveway, I see her get up and she is there to meet me as I come in the back door. Her joy in my daily homecoming is enthusiastic and total.
In the past several days I have been compelled to think about love and what it means to me. Above all things, I value unconditional love most. It's difficult for us humans to love unconditionally, but it is possible. If I truly love someone, right to the very center of my heart, I can do nothing else but love them. To be loved unconditionally is life's greatest joy; I know this because I have been the recipient of that kind of devotion- from some of the people in my life and by my animal friends. I know right down to my socks that I can count on this love no matter what. These people may not always agree with every choice I make, but regardless, even if I feel their anger or dismay, I will also feel their love because they know my heart.
I also know what it is like to have conditions placed on whether I am loved. And while unconditional love is the greatest joy, love that carries stipulations can be one of the greatest sorrows.

Oh Christmas Tree

Today I decided to share some of the words of others about this special season....

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight
John Lennon

Christmas day is in our grasp
So long as we have hands to clasp
Welcome Christmas While we stand
Heart to heart And hand in hand
Fah who for-aze Dah who dor-aze
Welcome welcome Christmas Day
Dr. Suess

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the words repeat, of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head:"There is no peace on earth," I said,"For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men."
Till, ringing singing, on its way, the world revolved from night to day, a voice, a chime, a chant sublime, of peace on earth, good will to men!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

God bless us, every one!
Tiny Tim (Charles Dickens)

My Heaven

Years ago, a minister told my husband that "heaven will be whatever you need it to be".
In my heaven, animals like this gentle deer won't be afraid of me. She will walk up to me and take corn out of my hand and know that I will never harm her. It will be this way with all animals- domestic and wild. There will be shelter and food enough for every animal. There will be ice for the polar bears and forest for the chimpanzees. Cats and dogs will not live in shelters or wander the streets alone.
I can't honestly say when my huge- and irrational- love of animals became such a part of my soul. Maybe it has something to do with the cats, dogs and rabbits who share our home, each one wonderful and deserving of a good place to live. Maybe it has to do with the state of our earth, with global warming, pollution, and loss of habitat. Whatever the reason, I feel as if I have become the character on Star Trek who had the ability to personally feel the emotional pain others were experiencing. Hearing of animal neglect or abuse literally causes my heart to hurt. I see geese flying overhead and am filled with awe at their beauty; their calls are music to me. I saw this deer bound away across a field, free and graceful. And then I contemplate that people shoot these innocent creatures and I can't bear it.
And so, until my heaven arrives and I am free to live in peace with all animals, I'll continue to enjoy the daily blessings of my sweet furry children- Patience, Nell, Shackleton, Oliver, Sam Adams, Charlie, Stuart, Lady, Winnie, Mistie, Nutmeg and Jeffrey- and will watch the geese and deer and find joy in that and pray for their safety.

Henry

This very cool bird is not afraid of people. On several visits to the beach, while I was in Hervey Bay, Australia, I happened upon Henry. (For the record, I should divulge that his name is probably unknown to him, although I did greet him by name on several occasions and he didn't object. Something about his calm countenance and unbothered demeaner made me identify him as Henry.) He generally stood as you see him, with the surf flowing over his feet. As I approached, he looked neither left nor right, but placidly continued to gaze forward, as if studying the sea. The first time I encountered him- and he is a fine specimen, black and white and standing about 30 inches tall- I was impressed and wanted to photograph him. Assuming that as I approached he would take his leave, I started shooting pictures of him from about 50 feet. He remained, so I shot again at 40 feet, then 30. He stood his ground. After a shot at 20 feet, I was sure that that was all, but Henry just continued standing there, looking straight ahead. I began to consider 2 possibilities- either this bird was tame and/or used to paparazzi OR he was going to let me get just a bit closer, then he was going to take a bite out of my leg. With trepidation, I took a few steps closer, took this picture, then decided that I had pushed my luck far enough, and continued by, giving him a large berth as I went around. Several times, as I continued on my way down the beach, I turned back, only to see Henry remaining as he had been all along, studying the surf. As I said, Henry is one cool bird.

Rain drop

Sunday evening we had a steady rain that has continued through most of today. As I was finishing washing the dishes, I happened to look out the window into the backyard. By the glow of our coachlight, the raindrops on these berries glistened as they elongated and fell to the ground. It was a moment to capture- a fleeting piece of art from Mother Nature.

My Nell

I know I have posted a blog about Nell before, but she is such a joy to me daily that I wanted to make her my subject of the day again. Of our 5 cats, she is one of 2 girls and her "sister", Patience, is a big cat. Now that Sam, who is still a kitten at 6 months, has grown so much, Nell is again the smallest of our kitties. She has such a sweet little voice too- one that cannot be ignored, even if it is 3 AM and she wants some food in her dish. There are 4 dishes upstairs- Sam's is still in the bathroom with Kitten chow- but since Nell's is closest to the top of the stairs, the other cats eat out of her dish. So, in the middle of the night, I go upstairs where she will sit by her empty dish- the others all have food- and wait for me to fill hers. She has me wrapped around her paw and she knows it and I know it and we're both OK with it.

A Gift Via Australia

This is Lea, a beautiful woman from Michigan who was a fellow intern on my trip to Hervey Bay to research whales. We had "met" online and chatted for a couple of months before the trip, as we were provided each other's email address by the foundation. I learned that she is the mother of Isaiah, a smart, sweet son who loves animals; that she has driven a city bus for many years and loves her job; and that she had a longer wait for her passport than I did!
We finally met face to face at about 11PM in the LA airport at the ridiculously crowded gate for our flight to Brisbane. We were subsequently packed into different areas of the plane and didn't meet up again until we arrived 12 hours later.
Lea saved me on that trip- from our very first night in Hervey Bay, when she heard me get up at 2AM and came to sit on the couch with me while I cried from jet lag, heat and humidity, and disappointment in what we had encountered so far at the house we were to stay in. She fixed me something to eat and hugged me and promised we'd be a team and stick together- and she kept her promise! We experienced an unforgettable whale encounter on our second (and my last) day on the boat with a mother whale and her calf. When I moved into a motel, Lea came along too, and even though it meant I was leaving her behind, she helped me get my flight home early and went to the airport at Hervey Bay to see me off.
We had some good laughs and long talks and I got to know her over the days we spent in Australia. She is a strong, spiritual, amazing person, and a new friend I plan to keep for life.

A good man

Frank has worn many hats in his life- father, husband, principal- to name a few. The hat he wore in World War II is the one that makes him a hero. Now, he would deny that, just as (I hear) just about all of the WWII vets do. I know almost nothing about his time in the service- not even which branch of the service he was part of. But I do know that he went, he served, and in doing so, risked what every other veteran did. Although it has been many years since those times, he still has all of the characteristics that make these men and women "The Greatest Generation". He is hard working, honest, loyal. His children are grown; he and his wife Mary Jo enjoy their grandchildren- he tells me about them from time to time. Mary Jo is a lovely lady who was an avid gardener, but has had to give that up due to health issues. Sometimes she has little energy, but Frank makes certain she gets out of the house. I see them occasionally as they come and go, she a bit unsteady, and he always at her elbow to give support. In addition to helping his wife, Frank is always looking for ways to help out his neighbors. He'll take trash to the curb for neighbors who forgot, or empty the sidewalk of snow while working neighbors are at their jobs. I believe that being of service is important to him. That unselfishness and sense of duty to everyone around him endears him to me. I am grateful to know him and hope he wanders over to tell me a story while I am out gardening for many years to come.

Australia sunset

What an amazing thing it is to stand on a beach and look out toward the horizon and know that except for a few, tiny islands, there is nothing but deep ocean for thousands of miles. My favorite times in Australia were when we were out on the water. For 2 mornings at around 8AM, we would pull away from the marina in our 19 foot craft and set out, bouncing along over the water in Hervey Bay for at least an hour until we were out far enough to begin our whale watch. We'd be out all day photographing and logging pods of whales, stopping for an hour for lunch with the engine off, bobbing in the waves. By about 4:30PM it was time to head back as it took well over an hour zipping along to reach the marina again. Both days I sat in the bow, laughing like a kid as we bounced along with sea water spraying us. It was glorious! On both days, the sun set while we were underway. We watched as it slowly slid behind the horizon. Darkness came on much earlier in Australia than it did at home and the light faded quickly as we sped along.

In addition to boat adventures, I had the privilege of walking along a beautiful white beach that went on for miles. The evening this picture was taken was just one of many that ended in lovely colors and shadows.

November

November is beautiful. Having said that, I am probably one of maybe 2 people who would say that. November's beauty is in browns and grays of earth and sky. A field of corn, just a few months ago emerald green, now stands tall and tawny, with dried leaves rustling in the cool northerly breeze. Fields where soybeans grew are brown and naked, harvested of their yield. Add to these the colors of leaves drying on the ground and all the flowers of the fields- all brown, but in such hues and shades that to name them all one color is just as much a disservice as describing them by one color in any other season. So, too, does the sky on many days seem low and gray- but silver, or pewter, or with a touch of blue? The earth prepares to rest and calls us to do the same. As I empty my gardens of the impatiens I planted in the spring, and put away my trowels, spades and garden gloves, I look forward to the cool days ahead where I can be like the earth and slow down. This past weekend I cleaned and arranged my winter place upstairs, where I will spend happy hours reading good books, drinking a glass of wine, and enjoying the fragrance of incense and candles. On a recent evening I was blading on my trail surrounded by fields and sky- all alone except for running deer, scampering rabbits and geese flying above. As the sun set, I stopped and watched until the last sliver of light had fallen behind the autumn fields. Then I set out again as dusk came on and the shadows grew, filling my heart with the quiet and peace of the November evening.

A prologue

Because this takes the discerning eye of a professional, I'll go ahead and say that this is not a real humpback whale. It is a really cool replica in Hervey (pronounced Harvey to locals) Bay where there were plenty of the real animals about. Since I did not actually stand next to a real whale, I can't say for certain if the dimensions are accurate, but it seems pretty realistic.

It is not an exaggeration to say that seeing an adult humpback breach is a life changing experience. In the same way I wonder how the giant hulk of the jet that flew us over the Pacific for 12 hours ever got off the ground (carrying a city's worth of passengers no less) I also cannot imagine how these animals can propel their huge bodies straight up out of the water, but they do. At the height of their breach they throw themselves in a twist over to their side, coming down on the sea surface in an explosion of water. Whale investigators don't know for certain why the whales do this. One theory is to remove parasites, although there seemed to be a consensus that the calves do it just because they can. Kids are kids the world around.

My Brother

I have 4 brothers: Greg, Brian, Michael and Scott. Greg, who is pictured here and my only older sibling, just celebrated his 50th birthday. It's funny how relationships change as we grow up; some brothers and sisters grow closer and others grow away, either geographically or personally, or both. I wouldn't say that Greg and I are close, as that implies a communication and sharing that we don't have. It would be true to say, however, that my appreciation of and respect for Greg has grown immeasurably over the past 45 years or so. When we were children at home (so long ago), we were primarily pains in each other's side. I think it would be fair to say that while I fit well into my family's expectations and excelled at school, my brother, through no fault of his own, was a square peg trying to be shoved into a round hole. It didn't work very well, leaving Greg frequently ostracized and angry, with goody two shoes me completing the "good child/bad child" scenerio.
Thankfully, after extricating himself from boundaries that didn't fit, Greg discovered the talents that had probably been there all along. He has, over the years, made beautiful furniture, made and sold reptile cages, and always, always either owned or bred and raised snakes, or both. For the last decade or so, Greg has become known internationally as a breeder of Green Tree Pythons. As snakes go (sorry, my own issues) they are beautiful emerald green, turquoise, or yellow creatures. Greg is now the author of 2 books on the care of these animals and has traveled internationally to speak about them. He is a good husband and father, and now, a grandfather.
I am proud of him for all he is and all the talents he possesses. Happy Birthday, brother, and many more.

Home

My journey to Australia and back home is complete! I returned to Ohio earlier than planned, leaving Hervey Bay on October 9 for the trip home. I tried several times to write a new entry, but each time, till now, I'd open the page and nothing would happen. It has taken about 10 days to find that part of myself that comes here with excitement to see what words will come forth today.

Home ~ what warmth and comfort and steadfastness that word symbolizes! And I have returned home wiser, having learned new things about the world and about myself. I grew and for that I am grateful. It was my plan to return to my blog with pictures of my trip, of Australia and of the whales and I still plan to share those things. It just won't be in my first entry, nor will it take precedence over writing and photographing the daily events that are so close to my heart.

This photo was taken on Saturday along the bike trail through Hilliard Ohio. Autumn, in all her glory, is upon us.

Down Under, Here I come!

September 29, 2007 has arrived. It seemed surreal as I changed my little block calendar this morning. My big adventure begins and I am ready to set my sails to the wind and and watch as new horizons come into view. My bags are all packed (with an extra set of clothes in my carry on in case they lose my luggage), my camera batteries are charged, and my hair is cut really short so I won't have to worry about "wind hair". I also have a blanket to take on the plane and on the beach that has a big OSU block O on it. (GO BUCKS!)
Whales and ocean beaches, a new continent and new friends await!
See you October 15!

Getting Ready

Once I had been invited to Australia, there was an immediate need to obtain a passport, something I have never done before. It was a fairly painless process, in spite of the 13 week wait, which really didn't matter that much since I had time. When applying, I presented myself at the post office with all necessary documents. I opened the envelope containing my original, yellowed 48 year old birth certificate, handed it to the postal employee, and to my chagrin, he informed me that they were going to keep it!! He said that if I wanted, I could go to some place across town and have a certified copy made and give that one to them for keeps, but I decided that, sad as I was to part with a piece of my past, I needed to get the application done.
After the passport arrived, I applied for a visa to enter Australia. In the interim, I worked a lot of overtime, bought my airline tickets (on the wrong date the first time!!) , purchased a few items of clothing, a hat with a big bill and neck protector, and my first digital camera. It has been great fun learning to use the camera. I usually have it with me everywhere I go and have enjoyed taking pictures of the changing scenery from spring through summer.
We received a packet of information about what to expect, as well as some abbreviations to learn that we will use to document whale behaviors and I have studied that as the weeks passed.
And now, with just a few days to go, my suitcase is mostly packed and I'm finishing up the last instructions at the office for events that will take place in my absence. I bought enough dog, cat and rabbit food to last 3 weeks so that Jim, who will have his hands full, at least won't have to worry about supplies. All of the "to do's" that are within my control are just about done. There's just one thing left "to do", really the only thing I can't control, and that is to feel excited about going.

Big Adventure on the Horizon

Sometime last March, an email came from The Pacific Whale Foundation, an organization

of which Jim and I are members. The PWF is based out of Hawaii, and is dedicated to whale research and preservation along with educating the public. This email was an announcement that PWF offered research internships in the study of humpback whales in Australia and Ecuador and that any interested persons should send a letter requesting to sign up.

This was one of those moments in life where I thought to myself: Self, you say that you want to live life to the fullest, and if you don't sign up for this, your words are all bluster and hot air. And after having that little self chat, I called Jim and sprung this on him. "I really want to go!" I said. And he said, "Well OK! Write them back".

Without any hesitation, I sent a response telling about my passion for protecting all animals, my reasonable level of fitness for someone my age, and my career in research. Within a week, I received an invitation to take part, and this coming Saturday at 5:15PM my flight leaves Columbus on the first leg of my journey to Australia. (The photo of the flukes is not one of my own; I found it on line.)

Late Summer Harvest

My garden this summer has been a busy place and I'm happy about that.

We've had lots of bees, some humming birds, and many monarch butterflies visit the flowers and the activity shows no sign of stopping yet. Although we are now into middle September, we are still having very warm, sunny weather. The time of year is approaching when I look forward to a bit less yard work- at least weeding and watering. Next will be the major job of raking all of the oak leaves from the giant old tree in the backyard. I actually enjoy that, especially because the leaves have that wonderful autumn fragrance. The collies are already starting to bring fallen leaves in that have stuck to the fur on their legs. While I continue to enjoy the bees and flowers, I am longing for cool autumn weather and all the gifts that time of year brings.

Squirrels

I like squirrels. A friend of mine once said that squirrels are just rats with bushy tails and good PR, but I disagree. Have you ever seen a rat have fun? In all honesty, I have only seen rats in scientific experiments, but I can't imagine seeing a rat out in the wild and thinking to myself, Boy, I'll bet he's having a good time. Squirrels, on the other hand, seem to have a ball chasing each other up and down and all around on tree limbs and roof tops. They locomote by bounding along, which also looks like fun.
I haven't decided whether squirrels are smart or mentally challenged. On the one hand, they can get into just about any bird feeder created. I have one of those feeders where the ledge on which the bird sits to eat the food can move up and down by way of a spring. If an animal larger than a cardinal or sparrow lands there, the weight of the animal, a squirrel, for example, pulls the spring which lowers the ledge which pulls a bar down blocking the food. One winter afternoon several years ago, I was in the house and heard this banga-banga-banga noise over and over. I traced the sound to the tree where the feeder was located and there was a squirrel hanging onto a tree limb with one front paw and using the other to violently move the ledge up and down which spilled the seed so he could eat it. On the other hand, I have been driving along in our residential neighborhood many times and had a squirrel start to run out into the road. Seeing the car, the squirrel freezes, and you can see the decisions floating across his squirrel face in a fleeting second: What to do? What to do?Do I run back off the road or keep going? Can't decide! Can't decide! More often than not, the squirrel chooses plan B, causing me to break to keep from running him over. That choice definitely knocks him out of the squirrel MENSA society (and may qualify him for a Darwin Award).
We have many squirrels in a variety of colors- mostly grey, but a few brown and even the occasional albino. This time of year they are busy collecting the acorns that have fallen off the big oak in the backyard and burying them 2 feet away. I imagine that by now they have eaten their way through their cache of my spring bulbs that they dug up. I like them anyway.

Go away, summer.

It was sunny and hot (in the 90's) when I took this picture at the side of our house. Having said that, I am now going to whine, so read the following in a whiny voice: I'm tired of hot and sunny!! Tired of it! I want cool weather. I want to turn off the AC and sleep with the windows open and need a blanket!! WAAWAA!!
I usually listen to our FM radio station (97.1, Classically Columbus) while driving. Our morning host has come close on several occasions to me climbing into the radio and shaking him when he lauds another hot day. "It's going to be 95 and sunny, so enjoy it while you can." AGGHHH!! Most Columbus folk complain when it's less than 70 degrees. They like snow from December 24th at noon until December 26th at sunrise but then they want it gone. I, on the other hand, welcome cool weather and would be happy if it snowed 5 feet the first day of winter, stayed 28 degrees or less from December through March, and all the ponds and lakes froze and stayed frozen like they used to when I was a kid. We used to spend as much time in winter ice skating on a pond near our house as we did swimming in the summer. I love sweaters and fires in the fireplace and cold wind on my face.
Being the cold weather person I am, I usually tolerate summer OK until about August. But by then, I am tired of coming in from working in the yard or exercising absolutely soaked in sweat. And given that it is now September 7 and it has been in the 90's every day this week, I am getting pretty grouchy. There is hope, though. It's supposed to rain and cool off this weekend. Maybe we've seen the last of 90 degrees until next summer.
I'm done whining now.

One less plaque

Dear Leah Louise,
I didn't know Cindy Beckley, but she died young. Her plaque (handmade by whom? Friends? Her husband? Her children?) is one of many set into a memorial wall in The Women's Courtyard at Ohio State. Many beloved mothers, sisters, wives and friends have words of love about them written into ceramic for all who pass by to read. So many of them say, "We miss you" and too many of them belong to women who were in the prime of their lives, just like Cindy was. Without a doubt, breast cancer claimed many of them.
I know you have received support from friends and family for your walk to fight this destroyer of lives. Many of your supporters sent money in honor of or in memory of a loved one, and I know you will think of them as you walk each of the many miles this coming weekend.
Let this thought add strength to your steps: Because of you, and people like you, who have trained for months and will be a part of this effort, somewhere a family will celebrate the cure of a woman they love from breast cancer. One less plaque, Leah.

Shackleton

In spite of yesterday being Labor Day, Shackleton cat was working only at having a nap with the sheep on our bed.

This seems to be one of his favorite sleeping spots. I think he likes to blend in with his surroundings, which he does effectively. More than once I've been in the room for several minutes before I realized he was there. Of our 5 cats, Shack is the quietest. He came to us from a local shelter when he was about 6 months old. Except for a small patch of reddish brown fur on his head, he is completely white. We thought that his name should reflect his white coat, and puzzled for several hours after bringing him home over a good name. We looked in our books for synonyms for snow and at Eskimo names, and even thought of naming him for a snow capped mountain, but nothing seemed to fit. Then Jim suggested Shackleton, after Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer, and somehow that captured his personality perfectly. He also goes by the monikers Shackadoodle and Shack Man- as long as the "shack" sound is present, he knows we are talking to him.

Sweet dreams, little explorer!

I am ready for some football!

It begins! Another OSU Buckeye football season is starting and I'm sitting here in my OSU polo shirt with my OSU earrings watching the time to the game tick down on my OSU watch!!
Tomorrow, I will join the throngs of Buckeye football fans as we gather in the 'shoe for the first game of the season. The streets around campus will be rivers of scarlet and grey shirts and hats and buckeye necklaces on fans of all ages.
But the absolutely best part (I have goosebumps as I think of it) is when the announcer says, :And now, Ladies and Gentleman, the Pride of the Buckeyes, the Ohio State University Marching Band" and out from the tunnel marches, in perfect unison, the Best Damn Band in the Land!! Through the ranks of the band members, the drum major runs onto the field, takes a stance and touches the plume of his hat on the ground behind him in a backbend and off they go down the field with the crowd on their feet and cheering. The noise is deafening and it is WONDERFUL!!! Soon after, the team swarms onto the field and the crowd erupts again in support of our Buckeyes.
Being a part of the Buckeye nation is something I treasure and I'll sing the alma mater with all my heart along with all my fellow OSU alums. And to Karen Holbrook, may she never set foot on OSU soil again, all I can say is, "You were among us, but certainly not with us and that is your loss".
Welcome back Gordon Gee!! We missed you!!
Go Bucks!!

My harvest

This is it, my harvest for 2007. On the positive side, I'm sure it will taste really good. On the other hand, I am thankful that my family wasn't counting on me to put food in their mouths for the next 6 months.
This little project started back in late winter when I decided to try my hand at growing something besides flowers. I ordered a packet of Big Boy seeds, some little peat pots and a light especially designed for seed propagation indoors. Some time in late March, I sowed my lttle seeds as directed, faithfully kept the peat moist (but not wet), and even put a heating pad under the tray to provide needed warmth. In about 10 days, little sprouts started to grow and I was very pleased. At the correct time in spring I set out my little plants behind the garage in one of the few spots that gets sun, thanks to a huge old oak tree in the middle of the yard. The plants grew and grew and GREW until they had shot straight out of the tomato cages supporting them and tumbled over into the lawn. I began to be a bit concerned when, by early July, there was only one little yellow flower I could see amidst all these giant green branches. There were a few more flowers to come, but not many, and most of the handful of tomatoes that did grow were eaten by something while they were still green. I think the problem was that my space didn't have quite enough sunlight.
So maybe next year I will find a different, sunnier spot and try tomatoes again. In the meanwhile, I'll eat the one I grew, and the others my neighbor Frank leaves on the back porch from time to time.

Work

Even though today is Saturday, I am at my research job. One really nice thing about doing research in Emergency Medicine is that you can work at 8AM Monday or at 3AM Thursday or even 8PM Saturday night and it doesn't matter! The ED is open and seeing patients all day and all night every day of the year, so that's how flexible my job is. Most nurses and doctors who work in Emergency Medicine gravitate toward "in and out" patient care. They like to greet- treat- and street as soon as possible. They also like the rush of having to make fast decisions in critical situations where the patient's life hangs in the balance. Thank goodness for these nurses.

Clinically, that's not my cup of tea. I'm much happier caring for patients in a calmer environment where there is the time to get to know something about them. My nurse soul is fed by the interaction I have with my patients, and in knowing that we- the patient and I- have left a small part of ourselves with the other. I have wonderful memories of small, priceless moments over the years where I know I made a difference to someone having a hard time and equally cherished memories when my patients made a difference forever in who I am by their strength, hope and wisdom. Such wonderful memories.

So, while I am in the ED doing my research thing, I have found a way to bring my nursing preference into my work. Because ED nurses are so busy trying to keep people alive (and hey, that is KIND of important) they may not have time for the little things that nurses like me focus on. So as often as possible, I find ways to interact with these patients by doing some of the things my ED counterparts are too busy for, like getting an extra blanket or pillow, or having a few moments just to talk with the wife of the man in bed 6 who is here for the umpteenth time with heart failure and she is afraid he is giving up. And I think this works for all of us. My hat is off to my fellow nurses everywhere who do what they do, and I am grateful for my research work that lets me mix a little loving care in with the consent forms.

Lyden

This is Lyden, the official hospice canine companion at the inpatient unit where I work. I say that he is official in all sincerity; as you can see, he has his own photo ID.
Yesterday was an overcast, rainy Sunday in Columbus, the perfect day to stay home with a good book. Lyden, however, reported for duty, although he did manage to find some snooze time in between seeing patients. His primary role is to visit the patients in their rooms. He walks up to the bed and allows himself to be petted. For those of us who love animals, I can't imagine better therapy. He can bring a smile to the face (and the heart!) of very sick people, not to mention the staff. It's always more fun to work with Lyden either roaming around or lying on his dog bed under the desk in the nursing station.
In my view of heaven, all animals get a free pass. Lyden gets a "go to the front of the line".

Heidi and Peter

My kids have grown up and I am proud of and love both of them. They're different in many ways, as is often the case with siblings, even though they are very close in age and grew up together in the same home. I used to think that children were mostly a product of how they were raised. While I do think that a stable, loving childhood certainly is a positive influence, I have come to conclude that we are formed as humans by many other things as well.

I've been thinking about Heidi lately and how much I treasure the friendship we have. She called me yesterday to tell me about some children she cares for. They are autistic twin boys who just returned from several months away, and she wanted to tell about how they had changed and some of the funny things they said that made her laugh. Two of the things she said are worth mentioning. One is that even though it will make her week extremely busy, she is planning to work with these little guys in addition to several other jobs she has because she understands that their need to return to a structured environment is more important than her need to have time off. Such a caring attitude comes from a good heart. But it is the other thing she said that I treasure most. She said, "I wanted to tell someone about them who would get it". I think she meant someone who would appreciate the relationship that has grown between the three of them and who could feel in their heart how special this was to her. I am honored with that statement, and have been trying to think of a way to tell Heidi how proud I am of her wisdom and personal strength, and not because of anything I did. Her journey here has not always been easy or smooth, but out of her trials she has become wiser- the very best wisdom that stays with a person and helps direct who they are and how they treat others. Even more than this, I want her to know that I will always~ always~ honor who she is and strive to be someone she can talk to without fear of judgement. I can't promise I will always agree with her, but I can promise that I will first acknowledge that her decisions come from a good and wise heart.

Ohio prairie

In a park along the Olentangy River, volunteers have worked to create a prairie similar to the ones that once covered parts of Ohio. Approximately an acre of the park has native wild flowers growing 6 to 8 feet tall. It is a spectacular sight, all golden yellow. It made me wonder what it would have been like to encounter acres of this; while beautiful, it would have presented a formidable challenge to navigate through.
I guess every age has its blessings and challenges.

Beware!

Lurking behind the bedroom curtain, a fierce jungle animal is eyeing a potential meal. Do not be fooled by what appears to be a domestic feline. She has the power to appear a cute house cat. But no!! This animal prowls the windowsills and doorways that comprise her savanna, creeping silently and swiftly, fangs bared, as fearsome as the sabertooth ever was.
Few know the only way to distract this great hunter, but it has to do with rubbing her belly.

On the wane

Yesterday I went rollerblading on my favorite trail, which passes through farmland. It was already getting warm by 10 AM when I started

out. Summer was all about me: the sun was bright, the corn green and tall and wild flowers still blossomed red, pink and blue along the trail. And yet subtle changes are beginning to occur; this season is drawing to a end and autumn is creeping ever closer. I looked out over a pond and saw as many shades of brown as green in the reeds and bramble. The red wing black birds, first to arrive in spring, are gone from their perches on the cattails. I used to think that August was still all about summer until several years ago when Jim and I started riding bikes out in rural areas, and was truly surprised to see the browns in the fields. Now I know that summer begins to depart long before the first day of September. And as I skated along, the sun hot on my face, I smiled in anticipation of the coming months, my favorites of all the year.

Fair Sheep

Every year around the first of August the Ohio State Fair opens and we never miss it. Yesterday we decided to brave the 98 degree heat and humidity and set off to see the sights. We entered via the midway and passed by all of the fun houses, rides, and games where dozens of garish, giant stuffed animals were there for the winning.

Our first destination was the sheep barn. We wandered up and down the rows of cages admiring all the different breeds, and petting as many as possible to get the lanolin on our hands. Some sheep were being sheared, and they added their indignant "baaaas" to the occasional calls of other sheep, all in different timbre and pitch. What a choral work! There are beautiful sweaters, scarves, dusters and other items all made of wool for sale, and we selected a pair of socks, thinking of the coming winter months.

Next on our "must do" list was a trip to one if the buildings where vendors sell every imaginable trinket. Our first goal was to come in from the awful heat to air conditioning. And sometimes we are lucky and find something for sale that ends up being very useful. This year, however, nothing caught our eye, so we headed back out to the other side of the fairgrounds to watch our daughter play her trumpet with her high school band. Along the way, we stopped and sampled some of the delicious fair food- a giant bucket of crispy french fries and an elephant ear washed down with cold iced tea.

Leah's band performed about 5 songs in a grove protected by shade trees. They had originally planned to march, but wisely cancelled that portion due to the extreme heat. They played very well. We walked with her toward the buses where all the kids were going to unload their instruments and then head back for several hours of fair fun. We decided that we had withstood the heat and humidity as long as we wanted, and headed toward the car. On the way we made one last stop at the Budweiser tent where the beautiful Clydesdales were munching hay with fans blowing in all directions. I never cease to be amazed at the size of those giant animals. Their tack is just as amazing, not only because of its size, but also because it is kept in pristine, shining condition. In years past, we have watched while they hook the 8 horses up to draw the wagon to the coliseum, where they perform for about 10 minutes before heading back to their tents. That is an awesome sight. It takes about 10 minutes to hook each horse up and the driver has handfuls of black reins when he eventually climbs on the wagon and starts the team moving. This year, I hoped that they would let the animals stay in the tent. The first horse hitched would have to stand in the heat for close to an hour waiting for the others, and it was sweltering.

We finally reached the car and climbed in, hot, sweaty and ready for a blast of AC on the way home. In spite of the heat, it was the fair and the fair cannot be missed.

Each day a gift

As a nurse, I have the honor and privilege of caring for patients at the end of their lives here on earth. They are ill and they know that there may be only days or weeks left.
As I was driving home after working with these folks, I thought to myself, "I am so fortunate because I wake up every day healthy. I wonder what it would be like to know every day when you awaken that your days here are limited."
And then I realized that like them, mine are as well.

Home away from home

I like my job. Having worked at Ohio State for 20 years and in multiple departments, I have to say that this is probably the best. Usually the people working with you can either make or break any job and I have been very fortunate in that category. My boss is a great doctor who lets me do my work, expresses appreciation for a job well done, and allows me to be flexible with my schedule, knowing I will do what needs done. That alone is enough to make a good job great. But somehow I also have lucked out in that the people who work in our office area are all pleasant. Not one gossip! No backstabbers! That is almost unheard of- usually there is always at least one person who is that "fly in the ointment".
One job I had, also at OSU, was just fine. It was a small group- 5- and everyone had very different jobs to do, which everyone did well. Then one day a new supervisor was hired. She was a graduate of Micromanagement University. Even though she had no idea what each of us actually did, and could not have done any of our work, she still wanted to be in charge of when, how, where and with whom we did that job. My middle child became very belligerent and said, "Self, you don't need to put up with this hooey!" And biblically, I shook the dust from my sandles and got the heck out.
In addition to good people, I like the research work I do. It requires attention to detail and organization and that is appealing to my obsessive/compulsive personality type. (ER docs have to have ADHD. Research persons have to be O/C. It's an unwritten rule.) I also have the opportunity to work with undergrads who do volunteer work here. They are all bright and very eager to add research to their CV. Most are planning to go to medical school.
So every morning I either climb into my little green Beetle or onto my bike and head into work knowing that it probably will be another very good day.

Mistie the Moo

I wish that anyone who reads this blog could reach into the picture and give this dog a friendly pat on the head; she deserves it. In the past year she has weathered adversity that some people might find difficult or impossible from which to recover. But Mistie is a canine, and lacks the capacity for self pity or giving up- one of the many things about dogs that make them superior to our species, in my opinion.

Some time back last summer, her human mom from puppyhood started a decline which ultimately lead to her death in November. Dot, her mom and my mom-in-law, was a dear, lovely woman and Mistie rarely left her side for 8 years. She loved to sit on Dot's lap under the apron Mom usually wore, slept by her bed in a little crate, and was the canine queen of the household. Mom loved her very much.

After Mom had died, the family decided that Mistie should stay in the house where she had always lived as company for Dad. While in some ways that could have been justified, it had to have been a difficult time for the little dog. She had been Mom's dog, not Dad's, and while he was never unkind, there just wasn't the affection that had nourished Mistie for years. To make things worse, Dad was suffering from the beginnings of dementia, and would forget about Mistie, who was discovered by family members at times still in her crate long after she should have been let out for the morning.

After several weeks of this, the decision was finally made that we could bring Mistie to live with us, something we had wanted to do all along. On a frigid, windy January Saturday, Mistie was driven to an agreed upon half way meeting place between Cleveland and Columbus where she was taken from the car and plopped down in the middle of a parking lot. She started running, certainly frightened and unsure what was happening. I ran after her, calling her name and fearful that she would either be hit by a car or run onto an icy pond right by the lot. Fortunately, I was able to catch her, put her in the car along with all her possessions, and head for home.

I'm certain that she recognized us, as we had visited many times in her life, and she was probably happy to once again be receiving attention and love. But what an adjustment it must have been to go from living all her life in a quiet place with no other animals and an elderly couple to being one of 11 animals and people who were busy coming and going to work! As if all of this hadn't been more than enough, two weeks after she moved in with us she spontaneously ruptured one of her spinal disks and was obviously in great pain. We took her to the vet, who recommended medical therapy at first. Soon it became apparent that this was going to prove insufficient as she lost the use of her back legs. She underwent a successful laminectomy followed by a month of total rest and emerged whole and healthy, although it took about 6 months for the big shaved rectangle on her back to totally grow in.

Mistie is now an established part of the family. She has her favorite places to sit (with me) and sleep (with me). She loves to go for walks, loves her morning treats, and races around in circles when we come home from work for the day. She has an endearing no-nonsense manner about her when approaching certain activities. For example, when going for a walk, she heads briskly up the sidewalk, ears back, nose forward. She know her driveway and makes a sharp 90 degree turn in when we get home. Her devotion to me is boundless. I am the recipient of joyful kisses every evening and her brown eyes speak volumes of love.

Sometimes I wonder if she misses Dot, and I know she must at times, as we all very much do. I am grateful, however, that Mistie has accepted me as her new Mom, and I feel closer to Dot knowing that I share the love of her little dog.

"Today"

Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine

I'll taste your strawberries,

I'll drink your sweet wine.

A million tomorrows shall all pass away

Ere I forget all the joy that is mine

today.

~ John Denver

Learning new things

Yesterday I was riding home from work along the Olentangy bike trail, and couldn't help but notice the abundant numbers of Queen Anne's Lace flowers growing everywhere. They are so common that a person might not even see them, or think them mundane. In my new resolve to appreciate the wonders of daily life, I got off my bike and really studied these delicate flowers, which truly resemble the woven fabric for which they are named. I knew that these were introduced to North America from Europe, and are named for the English Monarch who used to sew lace. According to one source, there is a small red center in each flower, the legend being that this represents the blood from the queen's finger when she pricked it with her needle.
What I didn't know is that this flower is in reality a wild carrot, known to be a contraceptive as long ago as the time of Hippocrates.

Friends

These folks are my friends, Kurt and Leah. They live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest amongst the ferns and cedars and not far at all from majestic snow capped mountains. If the earth had more people like these two, well, it would be a different place. A kinder, better place.
So, Kurt and Leah, here's to you and to just a few of the things about you that are so special to me.
Thank you for valuing simplicity; in a fast, complicated world, you remind me to take a deep breath, to look around and see the art in small things. Thank you for your advocacy of peace and for being green; that's not always easy. I'm sure you know, but I look up to you as models of who I want to be. Thank you for the gift of your friendship over the past 10 years. I love you both!!

Bird watching

Sam has discovered the table in front of our bedroom window, put there so the cats can look out at the bird feeder. I put out sunflower seeds, corn chips, suit, and black thistle and have enjoyed watching cardinals, gold finches, titmice, wrens, jays, chickadees, sparrows and doves dining. My enjoyment comes from both watching the different species- all with their own colors, songs and behaviors- and from feeling happy that I've given them something to eat.
Sam and his feline siblings watch in anticipation of a bird dinner. Because I know they can't actually get to the birds, I find their intense hunting postures, tail twitching and teeth chattering somewhat amusing. Nell, whose photo was in an earlier blog, will duck as a bird comes flying in, as if she's afraid the bird is going to come through the window and buzz her. So I conclude that I get double value for the money I spend on bird food: I get to watch the beautiful birds AND my silly cats.

Adventures with Charlie

Charlie (left) and Stuart are brother bunnies who were, along with 16 other rabbits, abandoned by a breeder in a barn 2 winters ago. The barn was also used by a dog rescue group, who noticed that no one was taking care of the rabbits and contacted our local house rabbit society. Our original intention was to be foster parents for Stuart until his permanent home could be found, but we failed at this. Once we got to know Stuart we decided that we didn't like the idea of his little face on the "adoptables" page and decided to keep him. When we took Stuart

back to the rabbit society for his neutering, they said, "You know, Stuart has a brother who doesn't have a home yet". Unfair! Trickery! We left with both rabbits, who were so excited to see each other again and have spent every day since being best friends.

From time to time, Charlie gets a tummy ache and stops eating. This is a potentially fatal problem for rabbits and needs to be corrected right away. Usually it took a couple of doses of crushed Gas X in water syringe fed, time on a heating pad getting his abdomen massaged and he would start eating and return to his usual high spirited self. This past week, we did the usual treatments, and he did start to eat, but not much and not in his usual enthusiastic manner. We went to see our rabbit vet, who checked him out, x-rayed his abdomen, and found that he didn't eat something that blocked his intestines (good) but that his digestive track could use some help (bad). They sent us home with the instructions to give him non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medicine (one tenth of 1 ml!) by mouth and a medicine to improve his gastric motility, given as an injectable every 8 hours.

Now as you can imagine, Charlie is not in favor of this plan. Despite what most folks think, rabbits do not like to be picked up. They are prey animals and generally only get picked up just before they become someone's dinner. And it hasn't taken long for Charlie to be onto things, so he takes the "avoid at all costs" approach to being medicated. Fortunately, his pen is only about 3 ft x 3 ft, so it doesn't take long to get him, as long as I first remove the cardboard bunny condo that he heads straight for, in the door and up to the second floor because he knows I can't get him in there. In spite of his best efforts, I always manage to extract him and dose him up with all his medicines, petting him afterwards, then returning him to his pen, where he immediately begins grooming himself and glowering at me.

I am happy to report that Charlie seems much better, is eating normally and hanging out with Stuart. Hopefully he will, in the end, forgive me for intruding into the bunny bachelor pad.

My best friend

My husband has always been active in distance sports. In high school he was a runner, following in the footsteps- no pun intended- of his older siblings. He continued running until several years ago, when his knees started to complain about all the miles. More recently he has discovered the joy of bicycling, probably spurred on by his admiration for Lance Armstrong's accomplishments, both on and off the bike. He generally takes off early on Saturday mornings and heads out into the country, preferring to ride alone. He says it's the best mental therapy he could hope for, not to mention the physical benefits.
He also rides to work as often as possible, which takes him into downtown. In the spring, before it was light out, he would head out with safety lights attached to his bike and clothes. The last I would see of him was his little red lights disappearing in the dark.
I'm happy that he has found this sport he loves, and proud of how far he can ride at a time. The last 2 Saturdays he put over 200 miles on his bike out on the country roads, alone with his thoughts.

Corn tassels

This past weekend I was out on a trail that runs through Ohio farmland. The old saying that corn should be "knee high by the 4th of July" is indeed old, as this corn towered above my head and clearly has tasseled. It was a sunny day with a nice wind, and the tassels were dancing under a beautiful blue sky. The soybean fields are green and growing as well. The hay is newly cut; in those fields Mother Earth is sporting a tawny buzz haircut.

A buckeye

The state tree of Ohio is the buckeye, and this is the fruit of that tree, the buckeye nut. This spiny covering remains in place until late summer. If you open it early, the forming buckeye is there, but not nearly as impressive as the mature nut, which is a shiny brown with a tan circle about 1 cm in diameter. Given that Columbus is the home of the Ohio State Buckeyes, these nuts are made into every imaginable type of decoration or necklace. It's not uncommon to see a person with a string of 50 buckeyes walking down High Street on a football Saturday, as well as lots of vendors with many more necklaces and trinkets.
We paint buckeyes on our faces, on our walls, and our OSU mascot is Brutus Buckeye. Just writing these words makes me realize how much fun it is to live and work here, and that I'm just starting to get that flicker of anticipation that starts about this time, when in about a month the marching band (TBDBTL) will be practicing "Fight the Team" as I leave work for the day. Football season is not far away! Go Bucks!!

Hims has dirty feets

Little Sam decided to take a rest on the tissue box because the tissues are nice and soft. He still bears the dirt of his street life, bits of road tar that are slowly loosening and coming off.

Looking at his size 12 feet on his size 1 body, it's no wonder he's chowing kitten food as fast as we fill his bowl.

For the birds

"This is for the birds!" That's what I was thinking when I decided to post this picture today to communicate that I have been under the weather all through this sunny summer weekend. I wonder where that saying originated?
These birds were photographed on Sanibel Island when I was visiting there. I was amused by the random way they were milling around on the beach, all dressed up in their fancy-shmancy feathers.
I cope poorly with being ill, even an illness as transient as the one I have now- some virus that will be gone in another 24 hours. I fret that I am unable to accomplish the things I had planned to do, regardless of whether they were work or fun. Instead of just settling back calmly, accepting that this temporary illness will pass and letting my immune system do all the work while I encourage it with juice and chocolate, my inner (Western) voice prattles on about "wasting a day" and "should have done this or that". It is so hard for us to just be. I wonder how difficult it must be for people who, due to real illness, gradually lose the ability to do anything. We, or at least I, define ourselves by what we do and what we produce. Just being doesn't seem like enough. But for me today, it will be; it needs to be. More chocolate, please.

Sam

This sweet little boy was found by my daughter when she was attending Columbus' annual fireworks Tuesday night. He was wandering around a parking lot all by himself, so my daughter called and asked if we wanted a kitten. I knew it was foolish to ask why, and told her to bring him to us after the show, which she did, around midnight.
He was promptly installed in a bathroom away from all our other animals, but with food, water and shelter- more than he'd probably ever had. He got a quick vet checkup on the 4th and was declared free of any potentially fatal diseases, but needed treatment for all the usual fleas, mites and worms so common in neglected animals, as well as some road tar on his ear and feet. He is a sweet, purring, calm kitten who loves being snuggled and for the life of me I cannot understand how this innocent creature and others like him are left to such awful circumstances.

In addition to a new home, he also got a patriotic, grown up name: Samuel Adams. We're sure he'll grow into the name at the same time he grows into those ears.

From my garden

I have become an avid gardener in the past several years. There is really no task that is a burden when I am out on my knees in the dirt. Weeding? No problem! There's something cathartic about pulling out the stuff I don't want. Like other gardeners, I eagerly await warm spring weather so I can be out tidying my beds, planting new flowers and seeds, and waiting with great anticipation for the perennials I planted to come peeping up through the dirt. Right now, my garden is blooming with pink coneflowers, red and pink bee balm, daiseys, cosmos, and impatiens I grew from seed, starting them indoors in late winter with flourescent lighting above and a heating pad below.

It is deeply gratifying to see humming birds, butterflies and honey bees sipping nectar from the flowers I planted. I put in milkweed for the monarch butterflies, as I read last year that their numbers have been decimated by habitat reduction. Milkweed is the only plant monarch caterpillars will eat. And to the honey bees, who struggle with all the pesticides poisoning the flowers they need to make their honey, I say, "Come and drink in my garden. Nothing will hurt you here. You are my honored guests."