Spring Things - Columbine and Roses

We are rapidly approaching the end of Spring in upstate New York.  Another couple of weeks and it will be summer.

It seems like that there was snow on the ground just yesterday.  Not that I am wishing for it to return anytime soon.  But the knowledge of winter is what makes the enjoyment of spring so sweet.

So I am going to keep this post short and sweet, and let the spring flowers do the talking.

I recently purchased these columbine Origami blue and white, and they now have an honored place in my backyard.  Like so many "blue" flowers, these are really purple (and a light purple at that.)

In my front yard, alliums bloom.

Outside my garden, Korean dogwoods are finishing up their bloom.  I don't have much room on my small plot of land for trees.

And, we finally have roses blooming in our neighborhoods.  These were fragrant, too.

What are your favorite summer activities?

Loneliness #MondayMusings

A day late, I am posting a #MondayMusings post.

Monday Musings, hosted by Write Tribe, is an invitation to post your thoughts - happy, sad, philosophical. 

Yesterday, I read a blog post by a British blogger in her 70's. Her husband is seriously ill with cancer, and she is his caregiver.  She doesn't get out much, as she has physical disabilities that restrict her mobility.  She started to blog yesterday about gossip, but then the post got personal.

"And so, I don't belong in society, and all I have are virtual friends. I've just finished reading Rogue Genesis by Ceri London about the power of the mind, which even spans deep space. I like that idea... I guess loneliness is bound to happen when you retire. If you haven't amassed friends when you were younger, you're sunk if you can't get out and about."

Her post reminded me of a dream from my childhood.

In this dream, I was climbing up the stairs of an apartment building.  This in itself would not have been unusual for me - I grew up in a 14 story apartment building in New York City.  I used to climb stairs to my apartment all the time.  Most people I knew also lived in apartment buildings, either in my city housing project, or elsewhere in the city.

But my dream didn't take place in my building, or theirs.  No, it was in a strange building, and, as I climbed the stairs, I knew I lived there.

I climbed, and finally, the stairs terminated in an apartment.  My apartment.  There was no door - the staircase led right into the apartment.

It was shabby.  It was one room.  The bathroom was right in the middle of the room, exposed, no privacy.  When I saw that apartment, I was seized with emotion.  I don't know how old I was when I dreamed that dream, but I remember the feelings that dream stirred in me so well.

I felt....loneliness. Deep loneliness. I knew, in that moment, that I would end up in that apartment, one day, elderly, and without friends.  No one would care about me.  In the dream, I was healthy enough to climb stairs (I would have trouble today climbing that many stairs, as I have arthritis in one knee) but I was still lonely.

Now, I'm in my 60's.  To my younger self, I would probably be ready for an old age home by now.  Younger me, you would be so, so wrong.

I have always been introverted, and somewhat of a loner.  Many of my interactions, if not work related, are virtual.  But, I believe we need the face to face contact.  I don't plan to retire just yet, but I do hope to in the next few years.

There are ways to form friendships when you are older.  But, as Francene points out, it is hard.  Several women I know are already widows.  When, I wonder, will it be my turn? 

I think of my mother in law, who is in her late 80's.  She is a widow, her siblings are all dead and, as time passes, her friends are dying or in poor health.  I think of my spouse's 103 year old aunt.  Are any of her friends still alive?  I wonder what it is like for her, sometimes.  Is she only left with memories?

How do you fight loneliness when you grow older?

The Golden Hour

We are getting close to our longest day of the year, here in upstate New York.  Spring will be over in a couple of weeks, as our all-too-short summer begins.

Today it is raining as I post this, and we have a chance for severe storms.  So I am thinking back a day or two, when it was sunny.

I love so what photographers call "the Golden Hour", the first and last hour of sunlight after sunrise, and before sunset.  When the angle of the sun is low, magic happens.  The light is soft, golden.  If you catch the moment right, everything glows.

You can see why it is called "The Golden Hour"

I love taking pictures of flowers, but trees glow in the Golden Hour, too.  You don't need any special equipment; all of these pictures were taken with my iPhone 4S.

So does this hanging basket, my Mother's Day present.

So does coleus.

I think this daisy came out nice.

All of these photos were taken on June 6.

The golden hour is longer the closer you get to one of the poles.  Of course, our Southern Tier of New York golden hour would be nothing at all like what they have in Alaska, but what we have still makes me happy.

I haven't tried some of the advanced techniques, such as rim lighting, that the professionals employ during the golden hour.  But going outside and dancing in the golden light and seeing how my pictures come out is good enough for me.

Finally, the sun started to go down and the Golden Hour was over.

Have you discovered the Golden Hour for photography, for art, or just to enjoy the light show?

Civil War Sunday - The End

Today, on Day #7 of the Write Tribe Festival of Words #4, we are encouraged to flex our writing muscle.  So with that, I have to make a decision about a Sunday blog feature I've been writing for the past four years.  It is a "Civil War Sunday", blogging about an American war whose 150th anniversary we just commemorated.  It began in April of 1861 and it ended on....

Well, it depends, which is why I am calling today's blog post "The End".

I've discussed the future of this Sunday feature with my readers, and my decision is at the end of this post.

But first - why is it so hard to determine the end of a war?  And, should the question actually be "has the United States Civil War ever ended?"

If you consult Google, Google will respond with an end date of April 9, 1865, the date of the first major Confederate surrender to Union troops.  There were other surrenders after that, however - Lee's surrender to Grant at Appomattox Court House in Virginia, so enshrined in our history, was only the first of the major surrenders.  It was not even the biggest, which took place later in April 1865 in North Carolina.

Consult history.com and it gives you a date of June 2, 1865, when Confederate General E.K. Smith formally surrendered Confederate troops west of the Mississippi.

But was that the end?  Well, there were the guerrilla wars that persisted after the official end, especially as freed blacks, former slaves, tried to assert themselves.  This sad history, in some ways, continues today. 

Possibly the most comprehensive argument I have ever read (full of trivia that trivia lovers will love) in favor of the war never ending is in this New York Times blog post suggested by one of my readers.
And yet, the article reenforces which I also believe is true, which is that much of the greatness of our nation today (despite its flaws, of which there are many) also came from that same Civil War.

Which is why I am going to continue the Civil War Sunday feature and continue to flex my writing muscles.  At the end of the New York Times blog post is a Civil War pop quiz.  I got seven out of 15 (shame on me!) and the Times, said, of me:

"LIEUTENANT (5 - 7)

You are a competent officer and fight bravely in battles for historical knowledge but sometimes you get distracted, go to the sutler's tent, and drink too much overpriced whiskey. This is what has kept you at the same rank for a while."

Now, I need to return to the battle for historical knowledge.

And, I do need to investigate that link between the Civil War and the soft drink Coca-Cola some more.  Just, I guess, without the fine bourbon.

Why I Pretend to Walk a Tightrope

I'm not properly serving my readers just by posting pictures of lovely flowers.

Even though I saw the first roses of the year blooming in downtown Binghamton, New York, yesterday, that isn't enough.

I am a midlife blogger, after all, and I want to share important things I've been learning recently with you. 

I am going to start a Friday feature, at least for the month of June, blogging about what I am learning in my falls prevention class.

I am not going to get into the actual exercises, but I want to blog about what I am learning in general, because this is knowledge that needs to be shared.  Not all areas of the world have these kind of classes but we are all at risk of falling one day.

We all face that risk, if we haven't fallen already.  If it isn't us, it is a loved one who has fallen.  A mother. A father. An aunt or uncle.

Quoting from the Center for Disease Control (CDC) Website:


"What outcomes are linked to falls? (Citations for these statistics are available on the website)

• Twenty to thirty percent of people who fall suffer moderate to severe injuries such as lacerations, hip fractures, and head traumas. These injuries can make it hard to get around or live independently, and increase the risk of early death.
• Falls are the most common cause of traumatic brain injuries (TBI)
• About one-half of fatal falls among older adults are due to TBI.
• Most fractures among older adults are caused by falls....
• Many people who fall, even if they are not injured, develop a fear of falling. This fear may cause them to limit their activities, which leads to reduced mobility and loss of physical fitness, and in turn increases their actual risk of falling."

This very thing (fall with a TBI) happened in my in law's family earlier in March, and they are still dealing with the terrible aftermath right now.

So, what is the number one thing we can do, even in midlife, to help prevent falls when we are older?

EXERCISE.  (There's more to it than that, but exercise is a great start.)

But not just any exercise.  For years, I had been doing water aerobics and walking.  Now, I find it is not enough.  I will not share "how to's" for the actual exercises, as they must be taught by trained people (we were taught by physical therapists) and practiced, and seniors must be sure they can do these safely.  We do these exercises at the beginning of each class before we learn other things.  I will say that four exercises (balance) are done daily, and four exercises (strength) are done three times a week.

Which is why, every day, I now walk a tightrope.

Not a real tightrope-I am not in training to be the next Nik Wallenda.  You will not see me on tightropes across canyons, or skyscrapers.  Nor will you see me trying to break tightrope records at the Wisconsin State Fair.

No, the tightrope walk I do each day is imaginary. Well, the tightrope is.  The walking is real.  Touching a counter lightly, I balance, one foot in front of the other.  Then, facing forward, I walk.   Eventually, I won't wobble and I will be able to walk backwards, too.  Eventually, I may be able to stop touching the counter.  What you won't see is a video of me doing this.  I will say the obvious:  my balance needs a lot of improvement.

Leon Russell, who sings the song in the video, is 73 and still touring.  Fantastic!

I intend to keep improving my balance.  I am also doing strength building exercises.  I also have a bad back to consider in my future exercise plans.

So, what about you, my reader?

I was interested in this video I found on the PBS (Public Broadcasting) website on "How to Walk a Tightrope".  This sounds like a fun family activity.  It's never too early to start your children on a path of good balance.  Or you, if you are younger than I am. (I'm 62).

Starting on Friday, join me for Falling Friday to learn more about what I am learning about fall prevention.  None of what I will share is proprietary information - much of it is already online.  But learning in a classroom setting is better than reading a blog, and I encourage you, if you have fall prevention classes in your area, to encourage your loved senior (or yourself, if you have fallen or are at risk of falling) to seek out an evidence based class.  And, after the class is over, keep exercising and learning.

Tomorrow - another change in my blog.

Donut Days

Today, in the United States, it is National Doughnut (or Donut, depending on how you spell it) Day.

What is a donut?  It is a round dough, with a hole in it, that is typically deep fried but can also be baked.  A variety of frostings, glazes or toppings can be applied.

I know that all too well.  I used to work, many, many (many, many, many) years ago in a Winchell's Donut House near Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas.

It was not like any job I've had before or since, which is what I wanted to blog about today.  I didn't sleep too well last night, and, for some reason, I ended up thinking about this job and some of the regular customers we had in the store.

We had one customer, who I will call Cigarette Smoking Customer or CSC (not to be confused with the 90's series The X-File's Cigarette Smoking Man).  CSC was obviously ill.  Yet, he smoked, and one day, he confided to me that he had a serious smoking related illness that would probably kill him.  But he could not quit smoking, and figured, at this point, it wasn't worth trying anyway.

How true this is about so many of us!  We develop habits we know are bad for us, and they have such a hold on us that we can not stop, even when we know we are doing serious harm to ourselves.

Or, we keep engaging in the same behaviors.  It is hard, for example, to incorporate new exercises into our lives, even if it is to do something that benefits us, like prevent falls.  I have back issues, and sure enough, a couple of days ago something went "pop" in my back when I was (ironically) walking.  I've been struggling with pain and difficulty in moving since. 

I keep saying "I am going to do something about this.  I am going seek out an exercise program that will strengthen my core, and if this happens again, I will be better able to cope."  Meantime, because of the injury, I struggle to keep up the new routine of the falling prevention exercises.

I haven't started to find that exercise program for my back yet.

I've been talking about going outside of my comfort zone this month.  But, will I?

You'll have to keep reading my blog to see. 

In the meantime - guess who won't be eating a donut today.  Working at a donut shop destroyed my love for donuts.  Perhaps how that happened would be a post for another time.

Would You Want a Blog with Scents?

For years, I have been hoping for a blogging plug in that would permit me to transmit scent on my blog, especially when I take pictures of fragrant flowers such as lilacs, some day lilies, and some roses.

I call this hypothetical plug in "Smell-O-Blog"

It turns out that others are working on this, too.  Maybe one day.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if, for example, I could transmit the fragrance of honey locusts?  These trees had been in bloom for the last couple of weeks but are gone now.  This year, the blooms were spectacular.

How about honeysuckle?

Or Russian Olive, a scent I do not enjoy (and, like many honeysuckles, it is an invasive plant)?  Maybe I would not want to have smell-o-blog for this plant.

Which brings us to the main reason why I am not sure that a smell-o-blog plug in would be something many bloggers would want.  For example, some bloggers employ a music player  that starts to play when you land on their blogs.  I, personally, find that annoying.  Musical tastes, after all, vary widely. I suspect I'm not the only one who doesn't like these automatic-music blogs.

People react to smell differently.  Many Americans love the smell of bacon cooking. But there is a  percentage of people throughout the world who practice religions that ban the eating of pork in particular or meat in general.  These people would leave a bacon-infused blog quickly, in horror, once they realized what they were smelling.

I have what is apparently a genetic condition where certain flowers that smell good to most people smell like garbage to me.  My list of such flowers include paper whites, northern magnolias and some lilies.  My son has it worse - lilacs also smell like garbage to him.  The last thing he would ever want is to land on a blog infused with the scent of lilacs.

But maybe, one day, smell-o-blog will be a reality.  Perhaps we should be careful of what we wish for.

Would you install a scent plug in on your blog?

This post is in memory of my mother.  Today would have been her 97th birthday, and she so loved the smell of lilacs and roses.

Spring Things - Pink and Purple Flower Passion

Here in upstate New York, we are in what I would call "late spring".  We had a hot May, and it gave a big kick in the posteriors (so to speak) of just about every flowering plant.  We've been through much of spring flowering in an accelerated three weeks, but things have calmed down a little.

I got to thinking, today, just how many pink or purple flowers I have on my property.  I must be passionate about those colors!  Here is a sample.

Yesterday, in fact,I bought a new columbine.  For this "blue and white Origami", it was love at first sight.  But blue flowers are rarely blue - many times they are purple.  This one is no exception. The blue/purple is there (in the exterior petals) if you look carefully.

Here are some true purples-Oxalis and purple sweet potato vine.  The flower belongs to the sweet potato vine.  The oxalis has white flowers, but they were being shy.

I make up several hanging baskets each spring.  I love petunias, and I love this combination.

This is a fragrant bearded iris.  I know it only as a "Kool-Aid" iris and the scent does remind me of grape Kool-Aid.  I only had one of these plants bloom this year.  For me, it has been a disappointing iris year.  I wonder if they need to be divided.

Finally, here's one of my rhododendrons.

It's spring, the time of new beginnings.  Perhaps I'll share some more photos on Thursday.

Am I Ready to Be Criticized?

Yesterday, I blogged about needing to fail, because I haven't stretched myself as a blogger the way I did in my very first blogging challenge four years ago.

The WordCount Blogathon (ancestor of the challenge I am in this month) used to give prizes for blogging all thirty days.  The second year I participated, I won a writing critique.  I never used it.

I wasn't ready.

A couple of my readers yesterday (thank you!) suggested I join Internet writing groups or critique groups.  This time, I didn't react in fear.  Perhaps I am ready.  Well, nearly ready.

It's taken me since 2011 to realize that people critiquing your work is people critiquing your work, not people telling you that you, as a person, are a worthless person.  My writing has always been tied up with my self worth.  That will always be true, but I must learn to separate the two somewhat.

I've seen some horrible, horrible attacks on writers on sites such as Good Reads masquerading as book reviews.  I know that is part of the territory.  The Internet attracts trolls, just as it attracts the wonderful bloggers and readers of my blogs.

I'm going to take the advise not to blog a book, at least at this time.

I don't know if this Blogathon is going to have a Haiku Day, or any other kind of day, so I will make up my own event.  Later this month, I am thinking of trying my hand at Five Sentence fiction, and seeing what happens.   I might even try a writing prompt.  All for fun and growth.

I will do my book writing offline, for Camp NaNoWriMo in July, and let you know my progress.

For tomorrow, there is my Spring Things Wednesday feature.  So much spring, so little time!   So, enough writing about writing.

Thank you, all who have commented recently.

Why I Must Fail

Ah, the month of June.  The beginning of summer.  New beginnings, new challenges.

Only in the blogging community can you find a blogging challenge which advertises itself as follows:

" It starts Monday, June 1. Get ready to blog daily for a month. It's an opportunity to flex your writing muscle, experiment with approaches that could fail, and share weird ideas with people who will understand."

Yes, this month, I must fail.

For new readers discovering me for the first time, let me introduce yourself, so you know why I must fail.

I started my blog in April of 2009 after a mass shooting in my upstate New York community, in an adult education classroom, that left 14 people dead and a community traumatized.   For the first two years, I blogged on, here and there, with no set schedule, and with almost no readers. I was ready to quit.  Then, on April 30, 2011, everything changed.  The then-significant other of a cousin,  a writer, told me about what was then called the WordCount Blogathon. I signed up hours before the deadline.

My first Blogathon post, on May 1, 2011, talked about the flooding of a favorite nursery of mine - a precurser to what would become a summer of flooding for a lot of upstate New York (and other parts of the Northeast).  That included the flooding of my community and my neighborhood (I was luckier than many).  My neighborhood ended up on the cover of a commemorative book published by our local newspaper, a fifteen minutes of fame none of us living in Westover, near Johnson City, New York, would have wanted. 

I would sooner forget parts of 2011, but not the Blogathon.

Now, in 2015, I face another time of decision.  If I think back on that first Blogathon, I remember how challenging it was to post something for 31 consecutive days.  More than once, I almost gave up.

The Blogathon had special theme days.  One day, I had to write a haiku.  I found I enjoyed that.  Another day was devoted to learning a software called Wordle, which makes word clouds.  I made my first word cloud for this challenge.  I even was challenged to have a guest blogger, something I never would have tried.  I succeeded.

The following year, I was challenged to join Twitter, which I did.  I am still active on Twitter.

Now, I am not growing as a blogger the way I would like.

I enjoy sharing my life in upstate New York with my readers, with pictures of flowers during our growing season and snow the rest of the time.  Farmers markets.  Discoveries during my exercise walks.  I have a seasonal feature on Wednesdays, a Local Saturday on Saturdays and Civil War Sunday on Sunday.  The 15th of the month, I join garden bloggers from around the world in a Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meme.

So now what?   I want to be able to retire in a few years (I am 62) and pursue a dream-the dream of snowbirding so I can avoid future harsh upstate New York winters.  But I need post-retirement income to do that.  I do not consider myself an entrepreneur, even though my grandfather was a businessowner, and my father was self employed for a year or two after he returned, a vet with a service connected disability, after World War II.

If they could do it, I can do it.  I can step out of my comfort zone and write.  I have several unfinished and unedited NaNoWriMo manuscripts on my computer. The time for talk is over. Intentions are nice, but only actions count.  So, follow me as I step out of my comfort zone in June.

I am seriously considering showing some of my other writing work on my blog, in addition to my normal blogging.  What I need to do is learn that I must learn to accept criticism and start to grow a thick skin.  As a blogger recently told me, "haters are going to hate."  If I fail, it means only that I haven't accomplished my goal yet.  I will not try.  I will do.

As Yoda in the Star Wars series once said, "Do, or do not.  There is no try."

Rhododendron, May 31, 2015

I leave you with one of my treasured flower pictures, a rhododendron on my property.

This is my first post for this year's Freelance Success/WordCount Blogathon.  If you would like to see me grow, please either follow me on my blog, or
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RamblinWithAm
Twitter (@RamblinGarden)

Civil War Sunday- The End or the Beginning?

The 150th anniversary commemorations for the United States Civil War have (for the most part) come and gone.  Even Disunion, the New York Times Civil War blog (well worth reading), will cease publishing after one more blog post in June.

So now what?  I have had a Civil War Sunday feature on my blog for the last four years.  Should I join the New York Times and quit?

I'm not sure.  I would like you, my blog readers, to help me decide.

A number of my readers are outside the United States, or live in the United States and enjoy history.  They tell me in the comments of my Civil War posts that they enjoy reading some of the history stories I tell.

Yes, "history stories".  History, after all, is not a boring collection of facts and dates you must suffer through to get a high school or college diploma.  It is the living story of the human race.  For me, the stories of the Civil War are interesting.  Battles, yes, but also some stories of those who participated in the war.  People we never would have heard of except for this war, which almost split our country apart.

I still have some photos on my iPhone that need to see the light of blog.  And there are the human stories - what happened to all those iconic figures of the Civil War after the war?  Jefferson Davis?  Robert E. Lee?  Ulysses S. Grant? (hint, he became a United States President, and he wasn't the only Civil War vet to become President, either).   Joshua Chamberlain, the quiet college professor who became a Civil War hero at Gettysburg? 

Did Captain Oliver Wendell Holmes really save Lincoln's life at a battle and call his President a "dammed fool" in the process?  (we don't know for sure, but we do know he later became an honored Supreme Court justice.) And what about the missing gold of the Confederacy?

I'd still like to write about the war, just because.  Perhaps not every Sunday, but I do want to continue.

The only question remaining is:  do you want to read about it?  Please comment below.

Starting tomorrow, incidentally, I will be participating in the 2015 FLX/Wordcount Blogathon.  This is the current incarnation of the first blogging challenge I participated in, in 2011.  Without that first Blogathon, I don't think I would be blogging today.

I encourage you to sign up.

Local Saturday - Mindful Lesson of a Grancy Greybeard

It hurts.  It damages.  It kills.  Literally.

It's falling. Have you ever fallen?  If not, do you know someone who has? 

As my regular readers know, I am attending a falling prevention class.  Our teachers held class #2 on Wednesday, and one of the two facilitators brought up a topic I never would have expected in a class teaching falling prevention.  I expected there to be exercises, and there are four daily exercises and four additional exercises we are supposed to do three times a week.  I expected someone teaching us what to do if we fall, and, indeed, physical therapists came into the class to show us.  In this class, they even talked about canes, walking sticks, and walkers, and how to use them properly.

But I didn't expect a short talk about mindfulness.

Mindfulness.  It's such a simple concept when you are introduced to it, but hard to practice.  Yes, just taking time out to appreciate everything around us can help prevent falls.  It's taking the time to notice our surroundings.  Paying attention to what we are doing.  If we are outside, how does the air feel around us?  Do we hear birds singing?  What is blooming?  Is there a sidewalk crack in front of us?  Are we out walking the dog and about to place our ankle into a gopher hole?

The facilitator said that as she grows older (she is a retired RN) she becomes more mindful.  She said many elders do, and we must become mindful, too, if we are to survive into a healthy old age.

I am starting to practice mindfulness.  My thoughts tend to be scattered, hopping from one branch to another like a agitated finch.  Nothing happens as I churn and churn without purpose. Not only does that lack of mindfulness make me more prone to falling, but it stifles my creativity.

So, at lunch yesterday, I went out to the Broome County Courthouse.  There is a little area with benches where employees eat lunch, but I did something different.

I went up to a tree.  It had strange, fascinating white blooms that looked like angel hair pasta.

Fringe Tree, Chionanthus virginicus

I found out from a flower expert I know that many call this tree a Grancy Greybeard.  What a fascinating name!  Better yet, it is a native tree, just perfect for a Local Saturday.

The flowers smelled nice. I have some problems with smelling since a wisdom tooth extraction with complications last year, but I knew this one had a lovely fragrance.  I had never noticed this tree before. So, I stood there, feeling the breeze on my arms, listening to birdsong, and enjoying the warmth of the sun shining down on me.

Yes, even in the middle of urban Binghamton, New York, you can practice mindfulness. Thank you for the lesson, Grancy Greybeard.

Just coincidentally, that meshes with a challenge I am participating in this week, the Write Tribe Festival of Words #4.  Today we are challenged: " Today, pledge to be aware of every moment. Focus. Appreciate."

Let your creativity flow.

A Coloring Paradise

Before I begin, I want to thank everyone who commented, and showed support, on yesterday's blog post.  There is a writing competition, NaNoWriMo, that has a July "summer camp".  The timing isn't the best due to a family situation, but I may see what happens if I put some of my thoughts down in a computer document, and participate in the "Camp".  The confirmation of facts and possible blogging can come later, if I get that far.  So, thank you again!!

Do you like to color?  I do.  But not all of us have the inclination to make drawings from scratch.

Back in the 1950's and 1960's, paint and color by number were popular with both children and adults.  Yesterday, a blogger blogged about Adult Coloring Pages.  Seems that coloring for adults is a relaxing hobby that has been rediscovered.

Many adults could use a form of relaxation.  Our lives are hectic.

Adults can take art classes and learn how to draw.  But for some of us, including me, it would be nice if we could buy a kit  Something, perhaps, like a modern, updated version of something dear to those of us who grew up in the 1950's and 1960's.

The adult coloring blog post reminded me of one of my favorite blog posts of all time.  I originally posted it in August of 2011 and it remains true today. Imagine - women are even forming coloring clubs (although, apparently, with freestyle coloring, not coloring kits).  Here's how to form your own club.

Here's part of my post from 2011.

I loved Venus Paradise coloring sets, 

Yesterday evening, the sky reminded me of the sky of a color by number painting.  All those shades of blue and light purple.  And, with that, I will repeat portions of my original 2011 post.  Enjoy!

Do you remember color by number?  It was popular in the 1950's and early 1960's, when I was growing up.   You can still find color by number in paint today.  But what my family loved was the Venus Paradise sets.  They were color pencil color by numbers.  They had sets geared to all ages - from children old enough to color to adults.

The pencils were numbered, and you got the pencils you needed for your set with the set.  My favorite was #7, Peacock Blue. You can even find the list of colors online (except for two "mystery colors").  It would seem that some older artists miss them, too - they were high quality but as a child, I just took them for granted.

My Dad and I would color together.  I would have my child's set and he an adult set.  I remember one in particular, set with famous buildings.  I remember him in particular working on a Taj Mahal picture.  I looked at him color with great concentration.  He put wax paper on top of the part of the picture he had completed so it would not smear.

His picture had so much detail.  You could barely make out some of the numbers in the small portions.  But I would grow up one day and be able to do complicated pictures just like my Dad!

Except I lost interest, until my son was born.

I went to all the stores (when he was old enough to color) and no one had them.  In fact, I couldn't find any kind of color by number pencil art set, period.

Venus Paradise is out of business.  And, I couldn't even find a set on eBay (I did find a couple of auctions for the pencils.)

The good news is that there is a pencil color by number set out there now. Better yet, the people who own the business remember Venus Paradise.  So perhaps a new generation of children will remember pencil by number sets fondly.

In writing this post, I find my spouse remembers the sets too.  He thinks when he retires, it might be fun to buy one.  But sadly, this is something I'm not sure will ever return to favor for the general population.

So....do you remember Venus Paradise?

Or, would you consider participating in a coloring club?

Facing Fear

Does your fear block your creativity?  This is a question being asked in the Write Tribe Festival of Words #4.  And, for once, I am going to admit my fear on the Internet, which is like admitting your fear in front of about 1 billion people.  Gulp.

For the longest time, I admit, fear has blocked my creativity.  I can not take a first step I've wanted to take for several years now. 

I am about as introverted as one can get (if I believe quizzes and online personality tests) but I tend to be a lot less introverted on my blog than I am in "real life".  I do fine with blogging, Facebook, and email.  But if you called me on the phone, I would hide under the table.

Public speaking?  Nope. (I've done it before small groups where I know everyone, but that's it.)  Meet someone I don't know?  Attend a gathering where I don't know anyone?  No. No. No.

But I'm not talking about phone fear or fear of groups.  I'm talking about writing fear, and the fear of taking action.

I've wanted to write a book for several years.  It isn't a memoir.  I don't quite know how to describe it.

What I have to say would anger some people, because I want to tell a story about a system in our great country, the United States, that is broken.  Seriously broken, as this country deals with an epidemic that is growing all the time.    This broken system is making thousands and thousands of people suffer.  Some have lost their homes trying to help their loved ones. 

Worse, such people without families who love them find themselves caught in a nightmare.  For some, there is little future.  And more of them are becoming adults every day.  When they become adults, many lose all the supports they had for the first years of their lives.

I have seen a couple of bloggers trying to tackle this topic.  They've received so many hateful comments that they have stopped.  Attracting trolls is something I do not need, and I don't have the personality to deal with it.

If you don't take risks, you are not truly alive.
Or so they say.


If people like me do not speak out, this terrible system will never be changed.  Perhaps it is the story I am meant to tell because I can use my experiences and my emotions to help others.

Do I dare take up this challenge?  Do I move past my fear?  Do I permit myself to grow?

Spring Things - Countryside in the Mist

Sometimes, I wonder why I keep living in upstate New York.  The taxes are high.  The regulations are ridiculous.  The winters stretch on forever.  

I say to myself, why not move?  Other places are hot, but you don't have to shovel hot.  You can't slip on humid.  It would be nice to have a winter that doesn't last from November to April.

But then, I get a batch of photos from the friend I call my "guest photographer".  She lives out in the countryside near Binghamton, New York, in the foothills of the Catskills.

She takes photos of her land and her drives to and from work.

Then I know why I stay.  It's because of the rest of the year, especially once spring comes.

Because, just as you get so angry with nature and the weather, she shows you scenery like this.

So many shades of spring, capped with a mountain fog.

A rural road, with the fog burning off.

Finally, more fog.  And, note the colors of the trees.

Sometimes, when you look at the trees of spring, it is almost like a second autumn.  So many shades of green and even red.

There is so much more to show you.  Wildflowers.  Fragrant shrubs.  Maple earrings. Maypops.  But first, we must wait for the morning mist to disappear.

Too many people think of New York City when they think of New York State.  But there is so much more to New York than its biggest city.

Spring is gone too soon in upstate New York.  But while it is here....look quickly, and savor.

When Is A Fall Not A Fall?

When is a fall not a fall?

Last week, I blogged about how I had signed up for a falling prevention course because - well, I've fallen several times in the past four years.  I am only 62 years old and I know what this can mean down the road.

My spouse had a relative who died from complications of a fall. My brother in law's mother in law has been hospitalized or in rehab since March after a fall in her bathtub resulted in a head injury.  Even my spouse's aunt, who is 103, has not escaped falling.  A fall when she was 102 (it wasn't her first fall, either) led to a partial hip replacement.  She will never be independent again, although (for now) she still lives at home.

Falling, for a senior, can be a death sentence at worst.  At best, it can result in broken bones, a trip to the Emergency Room, and/or the loss of independence.  So, if you are reading this post, and haven't fallen, you may still have elderly relatives to think about. Or, your taxes may be paying the medical bills of those who have fallen.  This is a problem that impacts all of us.

So, that's how I found myself sitting last Wednesday in a circle with six other women, and one man, and two facilitators.  The facilitators, both women, were retired RN's.  And, both had fallen.  We were all in good company.

We went around the circle, introducing ourselves, and telling our falling stories. So many of them seemed to involve walking dogs and uneven ground or gopher holes but there were some pretty nasty in-home falls, too.

Then the facilitators asked how many in the group had had joint replacements.  Almost everyone had had at least one, if not more.  In other words, I was sitting in a group of Bionic Seniors.

The program I am taking is evidence based and was developed in Australia.


Next, two physical therapists joined the class to teach us exercises we would do to build up our balance and strength, to prevent future falls.  Four exercises for balance, to be done daily.  Four exercises for strength, to be done three times a week.

I didn't feel out of place at all.  Certainly no one was giving me funny looks or wondering why a young senior was sitting in the class.

I talked to one of the RN's after class and she told me a person at risk of falling, no matter what their age, could take the class. 
 
The youngest person to take this class locally was in her mid 40's.  The oldest was 103 - she is 106 now.  So, it is never too early (if you have the need), or too late.  As we were told, age is an attitude.  There are people in their 90's who think more youthfully than people in their 60's.  I want to be one of those people.


As for the question "when is a fall not a fall?"  One of the RN's explained that when someone calls to register, she always asks, "have you fallen?" Many times, her question is met with several moments of silence, as the person on the other end of thephone thinks about it.  Was their fall a fall? 

Too many people think, the RN explained, a fall doesn't "count" if it doesn't result in a trip to the ER or a broken bone.  But, the RN went on, "it's like being a little bit pregnant.  You did or you didn't. You either fell or you didn't."

So, I've been doing my exercises.  In the future classes, we will learn about vision problems, medication issues, and even what to do next if we do fall.

I'm looking forward to the next class.

Remembering

Our veterans, past and present, deserve our thanks, and so much more.  Today, in the United States, it is Memorial Day.

Today, the genealogy website Ancestry.com has free access and you can look up military records for anyone in their database.

I looked up my grandfather on my mother's side and found (definitely) his World War II draft registration and (possibly) his World War I draft registration.  For the first time in my memory, I saw his signature on the World War II document.  More intriguing, I found his town of birth - something I never knew - but it doesn't seem to exist -"Altsandas, Austria" - another mystery for a later date. (I am not sure what country it is in today, but it was Austria-Hungary when he came to this country around 1903).

I then looked up my father's World War Two enlistment record and found this.  After the war he worked for several years on Governor's Island, part of New York City, where his enlistment took place.  What I know of his enlistment is that he was already considered disabled (a childhood illness destroyed his hearing in one ear) and had tried to enlist without success.  But, by 1942, we needed anyone who could serve.

State of Residence:	New York
County or City:	Kings[Brooklyn]
Enlistment Date:	6 Aug 1942
Enlistment State:	New York
Enlistment City:	Fort Jay Governors Island
Term of Enlistment:	Enlistment for the duration of the War or other emergency, plus six months, subject to the discretion of the President or otherwise according to law
Component:	Selectees (Enlisted Men)
Source:	Civil Life
Education:	2 years of high school
Civil Occupation:	Semiskilled occupations in manufacture of miscellaneous electrical equipment, n.e.c.
Marital Status:	Single, with dependents
Height:	69
Weight:	130

More memories.  Why would my father have been single, with dependents?  Because he helped to raise his youngest brother after his mother died.  Just as he raised me after my mother died.

These documents may not show much, but they can still tell a story.  You just need to be creative to read and understand the story.

In honor of all vets (including my father, who received a head injury in his military service, and my husband, who is a peacetime vet) I also offer these local military monuments in our area.  

Endicott, New York, a few miles down Main Street from where I live.

Veterans Memorial statue.

Plaques commemorating the war dead.  An American flag is kept,fresh, on each one.

The war memorials - World War II, which my father served in (in the Army Air Force) as did one of his brothers, and one of his sisters.

The Korean War. When I grew up it wasn't a "war", it was a "police action". But the people were just as dead.

The forgotten war, Vietnam, where our dead were dishonored and our veterans were mocked - a sad thing I will never forget. Both of my next door neighbor boys (growing up in the Bronx) served in 'Nam, as did other young men I grew up with.

Binghamton - part of the Korean War monument on the Broome County courthouse lawn.

Finally, the Revolutionary War monument, also on the Courthouse lawn.

Are you a vet? Are there vets in your life you wish to honor, no matter which country?  Please leave a comment.

Civil War Sunday - Can Remembering be Toxic?

The United States Civil War is not yet over.

My country, the United States, has just finished four years of remembering an event that took place from April, 1861 to April, 1865 - our very own Civil War, the war that shaped our country and made us the country we are today.

Tomorrow, in our country, it is Memorial Day.   Yesterday, I was looking at some blogs I read, and I saw this:

"Because Nothing Says Memorial Day like a Confederate Flag Burning"?

Yes, it's true.  There is a project called 13 Flag Funeral, which will take place tomorrow at 1pm Eastern Time, where, in 13 former Confederate States, a burning of the Confederate Flag will be held.

A artist by the name of John Sims hopes to start a conversation.  It is going to be a heck of a conversation.  Comments range from "it's overdue" to "it's extremely disrespectful, especially given it is going to take place on Memorial Day, the day our country remembers its war dead."

Taken by AM, March, 2015, in North Carolina

The Confederate flags (there were several) are still flown today, including on the grounds of the capital of South Carolina, the first state to secede from the Union in the months leading up to the Civil War.  It even appears on official license plates of former Confederate states.  This Virginia license plate, for example, is available for purchase by members of an organization called the Sons of Confederate Veterans.  This organization, incidentally, is open to all male descendents of those who served honorably in the Confederate military.

The flag pictured on the license plate is a Confederate battle flag.  The cross is known as the "Southern Cross", related to the Cross of St. Andrew that the British use on their flag.

There is an expression "Elephant in the Room".  The Civil War has been an elephant in many American living rooms over the past 150 years.  Even today, things will seem calm, until an event like this is held.  Then feelings come out that we sometimes don't even know dwell deep inside us.  Strong, deep, hateful feelings.

Even the Wall Street Journal, a respected publication, had some interesting comments posted on an article they wrote about tomorrow's event, complete with...well, read it for yourself.

So:  is this event designed to inflame?  Or, to start a useful conversation to draw out toxic thoughts so they can be destroyed?  Will that help our country continue the healing that has taken place, not always in an even fashion, for the past 150 years?

Whatever side you are on, I think we can all agree that we should remember, tomorrow, the people who died for our freedom in all our wars so we can have this kind of national debate.

Local Saturday - Lost But Now Found

For the second time in my life, I have found lost family (or, rather, they have found me).

Last February, I posted something I am repeating below, in part.

In it, I explained that I had not been in touch with anyone on my mother's side of the family in many years (by my count, it must be over 30 years). 


At about the same time, the genealogy website Ancestry.com offered a free weekend.  I took advantage of it, and I started to build a family tree of my mother's side of the family, the ____s.  Of course, my memory being limited, I didn't get that far.  After the weekend ended, I decided I didn't have the time to pursue this (as Ancestry is not a free website, I didn't want to waste my money).

Earlier this week I received a generic message in an email from Ancestry.com, with a family name I did not recognize but a message saying that she was working on a family tree of the ____s and thought we might be related.  I clicked to respond, and found I had to join Ancestry even to send a message.

Yesterday, I received another email, and I hope this woman doesn't mind me quoting it (with names deleted, of course):

" Hi, I just spoke to my father (let's call him "N"), who told me that you are first cousins. My mom was thrilled that I had found you. Seems like they had been looking to contact you for years and could not find out where you were. They would love to be able to write or call you."

Her father "N" is vague in my memory.  I did some quick research (what I could get for free, because I could not remember his first name), but I sure knew the last name well.   Could I truly have been found by my mother's family by someone, after years of searching? 

I discovered that Ancestry was having another free weekend for our Memorial Day weekend, and I had limited access to the site again! I messaged back, with some more information.  And then I heard back.

The answer is yes.  I have been found by someone on my mother's side of the family.

The woman who sent me the message is my first cousin once removed on my mother's side (her grandmother and my mother were sisters).  Her mother, an aunt who had continued contact with me for a few years after I married, passed away (my newly found cousin told me) in 1998.  And now we have each other's email addresses.

I told my husband and I think he was just as, if even more, excited than I am.
And now, part of the post from February.

The Power of Compassion

I am a private person.


You really have to watch those women from Nebraska.  They sneak up on you.

So, I learned today there was a project called "1000 Voices for Compassion", where bloggers were encouraged to " write posts about compassion, kindness, support, caring for others, non-judgement, care for the environment etc, and ALL PUBLISH ON THE SAME DAY (Feb 20th) to flood the Blogosphere with GOOD!"  

This young woman from Nebraska talked about her fiance.  She is in an interracial relationship.  She talks honestly about some of the "ugly looks" that have been directed in their direction.

So let me tell you a little bit about myself that I have never told my readers about before, and tell you about lessons in compassion that I never fully realized until recently.

In 1970, when I was 17 years old, I started dating a boy who was going to the same college as I was.   We were of different religions.  I am Jewish.  My husband is Catholic.  In 1970, that mattered.

It mattered a lot.

Some members of my family were less than thrilled.  I have had no contact with my mother's side of my family in many, many years.  Some members of my future husband's family were less than thrilled, too.

But there were the many people who had compassion, who saw past the religious differences, who accepted us for who we are, and I owe a great debt of gratitude to every one of them. Until tonight, I've never thanked them publicly.  Some of them, sadly, are no longer with us, having moved on to the next level of existence.  But I want to say to each of them, "Thank you".  My grandfather.  Cousins.  A childhood friend. My husband's next door neighbor. Some Aunts and Uncles on both sides of our family.  And this is just for starters.

Meanwhile, we, my husband and I, have been married for nearly 41 years.  Our love is deep.   I hope that young woman in Nebraska can say the same about her and her Warrior Man, 41 years from now. (Too bad I won't be around to help her celebrate.)

Times have changed tremendously.  I owe a debt to those who went before me, who helped pave the path of compassion that my husband and I walked.   I haven't done enough to extend that path to the generations that have followed me.

You never know what one small act of compassion will do, until you are on the receiving end.

Thirteen Months Later

What a difference 13 months makes between drought and nationally covered floods.

In April of last year, I blogged about Wichita Falls, Texas, which was in an extreme drought emergency.  I had lived there many years ago, and was horrified to discover that they were seriously considering drinking treated toilet water.

Now, Wichita Falls is flooding as I blog this.  They have received over 12 inches of rain this month.  They may receive another seven inches of rain in the coming days.

A month ago, someone I know passed through Wichita Falls and took this picture of the falls Wichita Falls is named after.  Now, parts of the city have been evacuated.  I am familiar with river flooding - I have been through two of them.  I feel for the people of Wichita Falls.

The weather everywhere, including where I live in upstate New York, has been outside the norm.  Now, Wichita Falls is paying the price.

The only bright side of this is that they have dropped from a level 5 drought emergency (the worst) to a level 3.

Here's my post from 2014.

Would You Drink Your Toilet Water?

Today, in the United States, it is Earth Day.  It's the day to think about the environment, and our impact on it.

Years ago, my spouse and I lived (for about eight months) in Wichita Falls, Texas, a city of about 104,000 about 10 miles south of the Texas/Oklahoma border.  It was an interesting experience but I have not been back since.

Today, I turned on the Weather Channel while preparing to go to work, and there was a fascinating discussion about a city so terribly impacted by drought, that they are trying to get state approval to capture and recycle their "potty water" (as they call it) and mix it in with reservoir water.

Turns out that city is Wichita Falls, Texas.

Things are desperate in Wichita Falls. They have been in a drought for some three years. Their reservoirs are hovering around 25% capacity.

So, are you grossed out by the thought of drinking your toilet water?

A couple of interesting thoughts.

I grew up in New York City.  To me, drinking water was something that came out of faucets.  My parents rarely took me out of New York City - for one thing, our family did not own a car. (Back when I grew up, this was not uncommon in New York City.)  In fact, I never saw a garden until I was 17 years old.  Really.

One day I found out our drinking water came from a place called the Croton Reservoir. As a teenager, I got to see this reservoir - a large lake.  And, I suddenly realized, there were FISH in this body of water.  Fish who ate, drank and...pooped.

I was drinking water with FISH POOP in it.

It wasn't long before I found out that was the least of my worries.  Many cities took their drinking water from rivers (such as Binghamton, New York, whose drinking water comes from the Susquehanna River.).  If your drinking water comes from a river, maybe you know that your drinking water contains wastewater (treated, you hope) from every city upriver from you.  And, in turn, the cities downriver of you are drinking your wastewater.

So many of us already drink toilet water indirectly.  The difference is, Wichita Falls wants to use this treated water directly, mixing it in with the fresh reservoir water, to make up about a third of their water usage.

Not a happy thought for Earth Day, is it?

Well, as it happens,  a lot of people are watching the Wichita Falls situation with a lot of interest.  Other cities are thinking of trying to pass legislation to allow direct usage of this formerly dumped resource.

After all, astronauts are already doing it.

The good citizens of Wichita Falls have dropped their water usage from about 40 million gallons a day to about 11-12 million gallons. But that just isn't enough.  So, besides the waste water recycling project, the city is going to try cloud seeding.  And, people are purchasing rainwater collection systems to try to capture whatever rain does fall.   But, to survive, they may be turning to toilet water.

We can't live without water.  Would you drink treated toilet water to survive?