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Sky Drama, Blog Drama



silver linings?




gathering storm



ready to rain

every day in August

This is the last day in August which has been a very rainy month.  I haven't minded.  It's too hot to be outside in the afternoon anyway and I love to hear the rain on our metal roof. 

This is also the last post I will make on this blogger site.  I've had too many problems with it.  When I want to write I don't want to have to wrestle with technology for a couple of hours first.  I certainly don't understand all about these blogging sites - so many terms and places to go for added services that I don't know if I need or not.  But in order to keep writing and following my goal I have changed course.  Please continue to follow my posts at shirleyjdietz.com.  All past posts, pics and comments are also there.  It is a Wordpress site and I haven't had time to make it beautiful yet but will be working on it - hoping for a few more rainy afternoons in September.

Back to the Farm

I love field flowers. I'm thankful for the time I spent in Wisconsin this summer, which is where this picture was taken.  I'm thinking about that family reunion Wisconsin trip and there were several happenings that I never mentioned that were very good.

A very satisfying element of the reunion was that it centered around my grandfather's farm which has undergone several major changes in the years since he passed away. My father and my youngest brother made a decision years ago to take advantage of the farm's location, close to town, and built a very attractive nine hole executive golf course.  The farm house became the club house with some clever remodeling, and also had living quarters for my brother.  The barn became the workshop for the golf carts and lawnmowers.  All of us who visited got to golf in the evenings when the paying crowd cleared out.  Many of the cousins got to peddle soft drinks to the thirsty golfers, hunt for lost golf balls and other chores.  The farm had never looked so good, with it's landscaped meadows and brooks and ponds.

My brother married and got tired of golfers looking in his living room window so he moved to another house.  The golf course hit a few bad years with weather, the economy, etc... and my brother built another business for his own income.  It was headquartered on the farm and largely internet based.  The second big change was made when the golf course was closed and the farm became Par Lane Condominiums.  My brother's family remodeled the clubhouse again and moved back.  The energy efficient duplexes that he built and sold were very attractive and the abundance of green space left room for walking trails and picnic areas.  My parents bought one of the units and love living there.  It's a safe and beautiful community where most of the owners know each other and socialize. Walmart moved in to the adjacent property and erected a nice, tall fence between them with a gate - it's like having a shopping mall in the back yard whenever something is needed. 

Even with Walmart next door, the farm is still on the edge of town where the woods and the wild meet the streets and buildings of Hayward.  The old barn is still standing and functions to hold lawn maintenance tools and tractors.  As we gathered  in the evenings at the reunion we often remembered the places we had played, the spot where Grandma's garden had been and where the chicken coop had stood.  The landscape is as beautiful as it ever was, even through all the changes.  One of the special occassions that my brother had planned for us was an afternoon photo shoot with a photographer.  She came and took photos  of all our families using the barn and the pond around it for backdrop.  In return for her services she had permission to use the setting for other photo shoots and I'm guessing it could become quite a popular place.

It was a good, good time.  And I'm thankful for family, for Wisconsin heritage, for all the memories that have been made in that spot. 

Begin Anywhere, Just Begin

This is a picture of the Gray Kitty that lives at my house.  Putting up her picture, or any other picture, is what I must do to begin posting on my page since I still have an "error on page" that keeps me from entering the cursor until I put in a picture.  Just as I had to figure out a way to begin my posts, through much frustration, I must also figure out a way to begin THE BOOK.  Every day at work I look at this month's calendar page with it's wisdom from Mary Engelbart "begin anywhere, just begin". So I think it's talking about the book that I'm supposed to be writing. 

Tonight on Facebook a friend back in my northern home town mentioned that she was working on her book.  She's an ambitious sort but I didn't know she was writing a book and telling people about it.  She sounded sort of confident and it made me think maybe she knew how to publish as well as write. " No", she said,  She didn't care if it ever got published, she was just determined to write it. That might be the right attitude and I'm going to try it on for starters.  Forget publishing for now. 

Tomorrow I'm going to make a plan, with deadlines and defined tasks.  I'm going to attempt to do at least one thing every day, no matter how small.  One of the small things that I did today was to address the confines of my paying job.  I requested a change of status - from full-time to stand-by.  Nothing will happen quickly, since we have to find a replacement for me and nothing of that sort seems to happen quickly if at all.  But once I am working less it will become more important that I work on the book as a job, regularly, with other people keeping me accountable.  I think that's what real writers do. 

I hope I don't regret this post in the future when a reader asks me how the book is coming along... I'm just sayin' it's a little scary making public committments, but it's a beginning, right?

Jacksonville



the storms gather...



and I get to watch for the 4 hours I'm traveling

I have had a few days off this week and decided to take the time up in Jacksonville with the daughter who doctors horses and other larger quadripeds. My history with veterinarians has always been on the client side, meaning that I see them come out, do their work and leave.  Now I have seen the practitioner side where they go from one job to another with multiple phone calls in between, maybe a meal, maybe not, and arrive home late with equipment to clean, supplies to restock, notes to record and file, and their own animals to tend.  This is not a job for the faint of heart.

Dressing a bad leg wound

Dr. Jules is just starting her practice and for that reason she takes any call that comes available to her.  Networking is important and every call provides an opportunity to meet people, make friends and pass out a business card.  Basically, what this means is that she will drive great distances for an appointment which nets her practically nothing monetarily.  Also since appointments come to her throughout the day, rather than all being in place in the morning when she starts, they can't be grouped geographically.  One day, for instance, we started out in south Jacksonville, next took a call over an hour away in the north, and ended the day back in the St. Augustine area, followed by the trip home to, you guessed it, north Jacksonville.  All that drive time, lest you think it is peaceful and relaxing, is office time.  The computer sits on a stand at her right hand, her personal phone is somewhere between the seats and her work phone is on her lap except when she's talking or texting. There is constant communication going on.

Her canine assistant sleeps on the floor behind her seat (nervously because articles in the shared space keep shifting and landing on top of her).

It rains almost every day lately and much work is done outside. Getting wet is common.

Most of the patients are large, frightened to the point of needing sedation, and non-English speaking.

I didn't get a picture of it (aaaarghgh... should have!) but frequently saw Dr. Jules' hand disappearing up to the elbow inside a horse's mouth to check a tooth.  Dental work is done with a grinder the size of a machine gun. I "got" to hold the tongue aside (grab it in whole hand and pull to the side, yuck) and keep the horses's head up in the air.  I also got to mess up an appointment on the computer, drop some papers in a large puddle, and get us lost driving to a farm - good job VetMa!  All in all, an interesting couple of days and I'm looking forward to a next time.
 

Two Things

This pic has nothing to do with my post, except that it made it possible to write it.

Where there is a will, there is a way, and I have found it! Today I am excited about two things. The first thing is that whenever I want to start writing a new post and get the "error on page" message, that's the one which means I can't get the cursor to appear in the text box, all I have to do is insert a picture.  It can be any picture because after I insert it, there is my cursor! I can delete the picture afterwards if it doesn't have anything to do with the post.  It still doesn't work quite right because I can only reposition the cursor with the up, down and sideways arrows, but at least I can get my writing done. There are other things wrong with my computer too but it has been a good companion for almost three years now so I'm going to honor it by not complaining.

The other exciting thing is the discovery of some new blogs by great writers about writing. I clicked on a friend's facebook link to an article about marrying young and it turned out to be one of many really great posts.  And that author had some guest writers, one of which was a literary agent who had written a book about how to publish your writing. I could hardly stop reading. My head is full of actual, concrete things I can do to move closer to writing a book. Wouldn't it be great to have that as a full time job? I'm just sayin' I think it would.  

Rest/Unrest

It is the weekend. I am waiting to be refreshed because that is what weekends are supposed to do, right?  I am unusually tired and it may be more mental/emotional than physical.  I have been watching people go through stressful things this week and I tend to vicariously feel their pain.  Underlying it all is my own need to make a decision about my own needs for freedom, work, family time and retirement. I don't even know if I should use the word "retirement" because I'm probably looking at a change rather than  retiring from anything.

I welcome change - well, at least the kinds of change I'm imagining.  I dream about relocating phsically.  Sometimes I picture myself living in Wisconsin near my parents, having coffee and taking walks with my mom in the mornings. Dad and I take rides in the country and talk about the history of different properties and buildings. In the afternoon I sit with my computer and work on writing my book.

Or I think about moving to north Florida and being vetma (my term for mother of a veterinarian).  I ride in the truck with Julie when she needs help and substitute in the office when the secretary is gone.  I pull weeds in Julie's garden and have supper ready when she comes home after a long day.  I write my book. 

Or I visit Esther and Jonathan, find an apartment, visit coffee shops and Schmidt Park and play with my granddogs. Esther and I discuss what we're reading and writing and I write my book.

Or I move to Cambodia where Dennis and I live on practically nothing in a second story apartment with beautiful tile floors and a balcony. I ride in tuk-tuks, or maybe a moto.  I have 44 orphan grandchildren who I visit regularly, helping them with their English and writing about their amazing lives. Book material for sure.

Or we move to North Carolina where we know no one and have no plan, no obligations. I write my book.

It's true, there is a theme here. I guess it's all about beginning, about finding the time to begin. Can I find the time to begin something in my present circumstances? The trouble with this train of thought is that it is addictive.  It compounds itself and grows in intensity. I actually have to pray for an attitude that allows me to go happily to work every day, to not be tired, to not be gloomy.  So while I wait for this good attitude to kick in I am studying what it would take to be able to afford this change.  I have conferred with a financial advisior and am studying up on social security. I'm investigating jobs that would afford more flexibility. I'm just saying that the answer will come and likely soon... just sayin'.

9 Women I Love

Fire, fire





Last night I was finished with supper dishes and decided to take advantage of the long evening and work outside.  It is a bit cooler too, although 82 degrees might not seem cool to some.  In fact it was so pleasant that I'm considering putting lights outside so I can always work in the dark too.  There are a lot of places that need attention in the oneacrewoods and I don't have enough daylight time to get to them when I am working my job away.  I

I picked seven pineapples of good size.  They are not completely ripe but sweet enough to eat and I need to get them before the fruit rats do. The rascals got two of them already and that's all they'll get. In one particularly fertile spot the pineapple plants not only fruited but also produced baby plants from the main stalk, sometimes three or four of them.  At this rate, if I planted them all, I could go into business in a year or so. 

After pulling weeds and propping up frangipani trees it was still not completely dark so I decided to burn my brush pile.  It had been growing and "curing" by the firepit for months and was getting intrusive on the lawn.  I love to make fire.  I burned it all.  It was dark enough by that time that the reflection of the fire on the lanai window made it look like the husband's favorite chair inside the house was burning up.  Odd - I had to take the picture.



Chair on fire - she loves to burn things



 

Eye Treasure

I love to see what early morning light does to the oneacrewoods. It's like getting a gift of beauty that calms me the whole rest of the day. (BTW,  I tried for half an hour (!) to arrange these photos on the page but what I do evidently has no impact on what the blog actually looks like. I need a class).



it was a fern glistening with dew





bright spot in middle caught my eye











  

Bacon

You hear a lot about bacon these days. Bacon ice cream, chocolate covered bacon... I'd go on but I'm already a little sick thinking about it. I don't eat what people consider real bacon in any form. So today I had to cook thick slab pork bacon for my employer and she said it was perfect.  Not sure how to feel about that.

You can even find a recipe for marijuana bacon, although it has a disclaimer that it is not designed to encourage illegal activity but for medicinal use. It is billed as "two of your favorite things together" and the video is made by a charming lady named Watermelon. (???) Chances are I won't be asked to cook that since one of the main ingredients is still illegal in Florida.

Oh, the things you can find on the internet.  

"those who live quietly in the land"

A phrase from a book I'm reading, "those who live quietly in the land", and I'm wondering if that is me.  I have my own brand of adventure and I do challenge my limits from time to time just to see if they're still there, but overall I am kind of quiet.  I abhorr politics, arguing with people, or even watching other people argue with each other.  There is something about the tone of voice people take on in those instances which makes me want to run away and be quiet. I would rather just listen to the silliest person on earth than try to argue them out of their position. 

There are those who "live loudly in the land" and probably influence the opinions of millions of listeners.  Most of my opinions are formed in the garden while pulling weeds or by myself, reading, or one on one with someone who has the time to speak into my problems.  I love listening to quiet.  It has a wonderful calming effect.  I am not Oprah, or Hillary or Beth Moore or Dana or Condi or...  and that is probably not going to change anytime soon. I am asked to be content with who I am.  I'm just saying there are times when I wonder why I am not a stronger voice for the things I hold precious.

Cat Takeover

I think cats are trying to take over the world. They are making headway, mostly in places where they are not viewed as food.  I personally know of several bands of feral cats in my own hometown. My haircut lady is a champion of feral cats, a cat rescuer. Every time I go for a cut we talk about how many cats she was able to bring to the spay/neuter clinic that month. However, there is another place where cat rescuing is in higher gear than here and that is Jacksonville, Florida. 

This haven for feral cats is where Julia Dietz, D.V.M., one of my daughters, has chosen to live. As she was searching for a home there, her first mention of the place she now lives went kind of like this. "It's at the end of a mile long, unpaved drive and is flanked on two sides by a nature preserve. The landlord lives next door and she has a cat rescue operation. She feeds about 70 cats at her back door each evening. They live in the woods." "You won't be living there", I thought to myself. Wrong.

Last week as we were helping her move in I snapped a few pictures of cats as they sat about, ran in and out of the house, and lurked in the shrubbery. We have since found out that there probably aren't as many as 70 cats, all but one have been fixed, and that the landlord is indeed serious about the problem of feral cats and is politically active and persuing legislation that will benefit the poor creatures.  She feeds them on a picnic table in Julie's yard. Her name is Jennifer but I like to call her "cat lady" because it sounds crazy fun and a little demented (like Spider Man or Ninja Turtle...). And to add to the craziness we have also met a family a few miles away - the wife also feeds a whole bunch of feral cats.  I think it's a favorite pastime of Jacksonville animal lovers.  Maybe it is wise to make friends with cats... before the takeover.



although they look right at home, neither of them are Julie's




spooky cat, one of many




the daily cat picnic




nearly invisible yellowcat jumping in bushes



Round Lake

A road winds past my childhood home, around a small pond and climbs a wooded hill. I spent a lot of time looking at that hill from the front yard and from my second story bedroom window.  At some early point I must have seen some people on horseback riding up the hill at a gallop because I recollect a romantic notion of there being a castle up there waiting for knights to arrive on their steeds.  My family later became friends with the people on the hill since they had children close to our ages.  The hill became Kendall's Hill and we also came to know their cousins who did indeed visit them on horseback.

For some reason today I started thinking about that hill and the nearby geography and wondered why I had never thought of it in the bigger picture before.  The centerpiece of it, to me, is a beautiful, deep, spring fed lake with a very unimaginative name - Round Lake.  Parts of it might be kind of round, but I would never have named it that.  In many places it has a very rugged, high and steep coastline. People owning those pieces of lakeshore have their log cabins that we can see through the pine trees and long stairs zig zagging down the bank to their boatdocks. There is another outstanding feature of the lake and that is a peninsula of high ground that circles out into the lake and back toward the shore.  It had to have been connected at one time because there is a sand bar across the narrow space where it doesn't connect. It has to be dredged for boats to safely cross into Hinton Bay. Hinton Bay, by the way, is almost perfectly round and maybe that's the part someone was looking at when they named the lake. 

I would love to know what kind of geologic activity has gone on to form this lake, and its surrounding hills.  I know there was a lot of glacial activity that gouged out some pretty crazy river beds and valleys and  left a lot of rocks of various sizes. Once I found a fairly large Lake Superior red agate in the lake so I'm suspecting a relationship with the Great Lakes chain.  But there are also some fairly flat lands where people have attempted to farm, as my family did.  The pond between my house and the hill had a couple of springs that were probably fed from the same underground reservoir that feeds the lake. We children who skated on the pond in the winter were always afraid to go too near those places we could tell had frozen over last.

The pond has gradually become more marshy and filled in with sediment - it may disappear someday but I probably won't be alive to see it.  Last month I visited the hill and took another one of many pictures, looking out over the pond to my old home. I'm always hit with nostalgia at the view. What a privilege it was to grow up in such a beautiful place. I spent many years drinking that clear, cold well water and eating food grown in that soil so it's pretty safe to say it is in my bones. I will always be "from" Round Lake and Hayward, Wisconsin. 

my old home from the castle on the hill

Happy, not good.

There have been many times when my spiritual parent has demonstrated his point to me by giving me something in the physical realm that is similar to what's going on spiritually. In the spiritual, he is my parent and I am the child with whom he wants to have a relationship. In the physical, I am a parent with children with whom I want to have a good relationship. What do I want from them? Frequent, meaningful, honest communication. The opportunity to know their needs and respond in love. To bond with them through sharing the highs and the lows of life. I want to know them and I want them to know me. Anything less involves some degree of emotional pain.

Is this a mirror of what my spiritual parent wants from me? Probably so. And seeing it that way gives me a better idea of how to be a happy spiritual child. I say "happy"  instead of "good" because it is not about being good in order to please someone. 

All those things I want from my children are not in order to burden them with obligations that they will feel guilty about if they don't comply.  I want to know their honest feelings because they will be healthier and wiser about themselves if they express them.  I want to know their needs in case I am able to fill the need. I want to bond with them so they won't ever feel alone or unknown. I want them to know me so they will realize how much they are like me, how often I have felt what they feel (and survived) and how much I love them. I want these things from them (and for them) so they will be happy, not good. 

A Mysterious Blog Healing

It is so very interesting that for the last two weeks I have been unable to post anything on this blog. The technical problem seems to be gone at the moment but I suppose it could reoccur at any moment - it did once before.  I'm amazed at how it left me not knowing how to get rid of all the things I wanted to say.  I'm no longer inclined to write long hand in a journal, although I suppose I would get used to it again if I had to.  When writing online there is that sense that I am sharing words with a community even though I rarely hear from anyone. I think that increases the cathartic effect.

The week spent in Wisconsin was very worthwhile (and fun) but I've almost forgotten what I wanted to write about it. One significant happening was that our family decided to split the costs of one of my brother's condos, right next to my parents.  It will be available for any of us who want to visit without having to impose on the parents, and for those of us who need more room when we visit for a longer period of time. The husband was with me on this trip and I think we both came away with the feeling that we would like to be up there more often.  We just have to figure out how to extricate ourselves from the workplace without losing our jobs. Might be a problem, but then again.... 

I spent a few days in Gainesville before leaving for Wisconsin. Since getting back, most of the days that I haven't had to work I've been helping the Florida daughter move from Gainesville to Jacksonville. Moving is messy business and no one should have to do it alone. The more help, the better.  Of course Julie worked harder and longer than anyone else but I was glad I got to contribute.  I now have memorized directions to her new house and have a mental picture of her living space (as well as digital pictures).  There is a lot to be said about the place.  Her horses and mine also have new stomping grounds and a nice gentleman cowboy to watch over them as they enjoy his 70 acres of pasture.  Julie has had a couple days of work since moving - a relief for her I'm sure.

And now, perhaps this post is long enough and I should see if I can post a picture without losing the ability to write text.  This is a picture of our first pizza meal at Julie's new house after a hard day of hauling boxes and furniture. 

fiercely attacking food

Still can't post anything but titles and Blogger Help won't answer...

My page won't work - won't let me post. Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!

Old Barns

Old barns symbolize a vanishing way of life and Wisconsin is full of them.  I see them often and if I'm driving I sometimes give in to a "sudden leaving of the road" impulse and try to get some pictures.  I grew up on a farm with a beautiful old barn and spent many hours playing and working in the hay loft, whitewashing the walls on the ground floor, sweeping the center aisle, cleaning out the watering cups and the gutters and milking the cows stanchioned in rows along the barn's length.  Those of us with memories like these are becoming fewer in number and soon the barns will be gone too.  The one I grew up loving started leaning back in the 70's and finally blew over in a storm in the 80's. 

My grandfather's farm, which is now owned by my brother, has a barn which is still standing - probably because my grandfather was forever scaring his wife by going up to put tin on the roof.  The tin kept the wood from getting wet and rotting, and the basic structure of the barn is pretty solid.  It has beautifully weathered wood full of color and texture and the old pieces of tin make the roof look like a patchwork quilt.  It is one of our favorite backdrops for photos.  A number of them are framed in an old window that is hanging on my wall and was a subject of a previous blog post (See "Tribute to a Barn" 11/6/2012).  These are some new shots that I took this year.

On my motorcycle ride with my brother Bob (during the recent reunion) we passed another old barn that was painfully picturesque. I say painfully because I was almost afraid it might collapse while I was looking at it.  I was able to get my Dad to go back with me and find the farm, and now it will at least be preserved in photo memory.  Dad remembered the farm belonging to a pair of batchelor brothers a long time ago but it was abandoned, gated and posted. ( Don't tell anyone I climbed through the gate to get these pics.) 



initial view from the road




especially love the doors and hinges



unusual lines even before it started leaning





if walls could talk, the stories these would tell...



















rustic beauty, daisies and old wood











a barn you don't want to spend much time in








a roof that could have used some tin...







Dad, waiting for me to quit trespassing