I've discovered as I move into old age, I'm supposed to not care about my birthday anymore. At the very least, I'm supposed to feel embarrassed about enjoying my birthday. If you're ten and you wake up saying, "Yea! It's MY birthday!", everyone thinks that's wonderful. If you're sixty-three and you vocalize that sentiment, people privately wonder if you're getting senile.
It's way, way too easy to knuckle under and pretend you don't care about presents, cake, ice cream, and birthday wishes. That's complete bushwa! News flash, Baby Boomers - 60 is NOT the new 40. I think that's why birthdays have fallen out of favor with my particularly narcissistic group. You have to be comfortable with getting older, and so many of my generation, who have worshiped their own youth way past its expiration date, don't like to be reminded of getting older by their birthday rolling around each year. It's going to happen no matter what. You'd think that would be obvious.
Somehow, it's not. I laugh when I read the 70 million boomers are projected to spend $115 billion (that's BILLION with a B) on anti-aging products. That's not just wrinkle cream; it's worse than that. It's also now about life extension through better chemistry. Most of us have by now caught a whiff of our own mortality. (OMG! I'M GOING TO DIE!!!!!!) Again, those pesky birthdays remind you of the unthinkable. (This world without ME?)
We all know that I really don't care what other people think. I always make up my own mind, have my own opinions, and am perverse enough to resist peer disapproval. I've written blogs that have incensed people to the point they froth at the mouth. Some have even screamed, "I don't want to read your damn blog again!!!!!" If those folks only knew how much they inspire me. Any writing that makes people tear out their hair must be sensational. What a compliment!
Same with the birthday thing. I'm not going to downplay my attitude. I LOVE my birthday. I want to be catered to the entire day just as if this were my seventh birthday rather than my sixty-third. I plan to eat cake and ice cream, and celebrate. Oh, and if you 'forgot' my birthday today, it's not too late - there's still 13 hours left in this fabulous, only going to happen once, day. Cheers! It's my birthday.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
I've Been Seeing Dead People
There's an awfully lot of prime real estate tied up in grave sites. It was truly baffling in New England. The amount of relatively flat, open land was so small; the amount tied up with sprouting tombstones was noticeable. There are quite a few New England towns in which the grave yard is bigger than the town. Cemeteries are fascinating. I've been to them all over the world. I got hooked on this practice over 30 years ago in Vienna where some very famous musicians are buried under some fancy stonework.
The Grove Cemetery at New Haven was a few centuries walk through a who's who at Yale. It had quite a few interesting monuments, but mostly lots and lots of WORDS every where. You didn't see too many "Beloved Mother" sentiments. There was bunches of Joe Blow, Reverend, Teacher, Lawyer, Statesmen, Yale Graduate 1809. Discovered how Air Tasted, Known as the Best Cloud Lover in Thirty States, etc., etc., etc. Oh, and even as fab as he was he died in 1869.
The Grove in New Haven was among the first 'designed' cemeteries. Prior to the Grove (1797 - first burial), you died, you got planted, and the next guy who died got planted next to you. The Grove started the idea of 'family plots', and they pre-sold those plots prior to death. This new cemetery came into being because of yellow fever epidemics that killed 5000 people quickly and filled up the burial space on the "Common" - the green space at the center of town. This new fangled idea of having a planned place waiting for you when you died caught on, and the most cosmopolitan towns like New York City and Baltimore and Philadelphia quickly developed their own planned cemeteries.
1846 rolls around, and the good folks of Richmond are alarmed they are falling behind the times. They, too, decided a planned cemetery with family plots was just the ticket. A group of investors bought land bordering the James River and hired an important architect who laid out a massive grave yard leaving the already large American Holly trees on the property as decoration. He suggested they call it "Hollywood" after the trees that are still standing today.
Just fifteen short years later, the first of the Richmond Confederate soldiers came home to the graveyard. Eventually there would be 18,000 of them, and a large pyramid like monument was raised in 1869 to honor them. It was made from Richmond cut granite and stacked up without mortar. The crane was too short to place the capstone. Placing it by 'hand' was deemed to be a 50/50 risk of death for the person who attempted it. A prisoner volunteered. If he succeeded, he got out of jail. A tough way to win his freedom, but he won his bet. The monument is about 80 feet high and sits on Confederate Hill. Directly surrounding the granite pyramid are the soldiers who fell in battle. This part of Hollywood Cemetery is a grave yard of teenagers and twenty somethings.
The other famous Confederate is J.E.B. Stuart. Stuart graduated from West Point in 1854, and resigned his US Army military commission returning to Virginia and Lee at the start of the War. By all accounts, Lee considered Stuart an adopted son. This famous cavalry officer died at the Battle of Yellow Tavern in 1864 in an offensive led by another famous Union officer, Phil Sheridan. Sheridan was specifically to ordered to find and eliminate Stuart who the Union generals considered to be the most able Confederate commander after Lee. Stuart was only 34 years old when he was killed, but his widow Flora lived until 1923, never remarried and only wore black from the day Stuart was killed until she died. That level of devotion to the Lost Cause was displayed by many, many Southern women of the upper class. They preserved numerous historical sites as well as significant artifacts in the decades following the Civil War.
Hollywood is also the resting place of two United States Presidents: James Monroe and John Tyler. They are interred in the "Presidents' Circle" and surrounded by the 19th century movers and shakers of Richmond and Virginia society. There are several Virginia Governors buried in this area. Ironically, this cemetery has beautiful waterfront views of the James River, but all of the graves in that section of the Presidents' Circle face toward the Circle and away from the river view. Monroe's tomb is a showcase for the ironwork this cemetery is famous for.
Tyler's tomb is topped with an obelisk, and the obelisk is topped with an American Eagle.
Of far more interest is the life sized angel standing next to his tomb. This is over the grave of one of his daughters. I think this is the really interesting feature of the Hollywood cemetery. There are angels everywhere; I mean the stone variety, not the real deal. Most of them are life sized, and they have varying poses. Some are intact, while others, like this lady, are missing a piece or two.
Jefferson Davis has his OWN circle and he's got a bigger than life sized bronze statue of himself. Varina, his wife, has a seated angel over hers
The Atkinson family didn't want to leave any doubt as to their religious affiliation - not only a life sized praying angel but a larger than life sized cross.
The Grove Cemetery at New Haven was a few centuries walk through a who's who at Yale. It had quite a few interesting monuments, but mostly lots and lots of WORDS every where. You didn't see too many "Beloved Mother" sentiments. There was bunches of Joe Blow, Reverend, Teacher, Lawyer, Statesmen, Yale Graduate 1809. Discovered how Air Tasted, Known as the Best Cloud Lover in Thirty States, etc., etc., etc. Oh, and even as fab as he was he died in 1869.
The Grove in New Haven was among the first 'designed' cemeteries. Prior to the Grove (1797 - first burial), you died, you got planted, and the next guy who died got planted next to you. The Grove started the idea of 'family plots', and they pre-sold those plots prior to death. This new cemetery came into being because of yellow fever epidemics that killed 5000 people quickly and filled up the burial space on the "Common" - the green space at the center of town. This new fangled idea of having a planned place waiting for you when you died caught on, and the most cosmopolitan towns like New York City and Baltimore and Philadelphia quickly developed their own planned cemeteries.
Just fifteen short years later, the first of the Richmond Confederate soldiers came home to the graveyard. Eventually there would be 18,000 of them, and a large pyramid like monument was raised in 1869 to honor them. It was made from Richmond cut granite and stacked up without mortar. The crane was too short to place the capstone. Placing it by 'hand' was deemed to be a 50/50 risk of death for the person who attempted it. A prisoner volunteered. If he succeeded, he got out of jail. A tough way to win his freedom, but he won his bet. The monument is about 80 feet high and sits on Confederate Hill. Directly surrounding the granite pyramid are the soldiers who fell in battle. This part of Hollywood Cemetery is a grave yard of teenagers and twenty somethings.
Two famous Confederates are buried here: Major George E. Pickett, the leader of the infamous "Picket's Charge" at Gettysburg in which more than three brigades were shot to doll rags by Union crossfire. As the remnants of survivors retreated, eye witnesses said that Pickett wept. When Lee asked Pickett to assemble his brigade, Pickett supposedly replied, General Lee, I have no brigade. Pickett survived the war and died in 1875; he is buried under this elaborate monument. There's an equally elaborate monument next to his erected by the survivors of the charge at Gettysburg in remembrance of their fallen comrades.
The other famous Confederate is J.E.B. Stuart. Stuart graduated from West Point in 1854, and resigned his US Army military commission returning to Virginia and Lee at the start of the War. By all accounts, Lee considered Stuart an adopted son. This famous cavalry officer died at the Battle of Yellow Tavern in 1864 in an offensive led by another famous Union officer, Phil Sheridan. Sheridan was specifically to ordered to find and eliminate Stuart who the Union generals considered to be the most able Confederate commander after Lee. Stuart was only 34 years old when he was killed, but his widow Flora lived until 1923, never remarried and only wore black from the day Stuart was killed until she died. That level of devotion to the Lost Cause was displayed by many, many Southern women of the upper class. They preserved numerous historical sites as well as significant artifacts in the decades following the Civil War.
Hollywood is also the resting place of two United States Presidents: James Monroe and John Tyler. They are interred in the "Presidents' Circle" and surrounded by the 19th century movers and shakers of Richmond and Virginia society. There are several Virginia Governors buried in this area. Ironically, this cemetery has beautiful waterfront views of the James River, but all of the graves in that section of the Presidents' Circle face toward the Circle and away from the river view. Monroe's tomb is a showcase for the ironwork this cemetery is famous for.
Tyler's tomb is topped with an obelisk, and the obelisk is topped with an American Eagle.
Jefferson Davis has his OWN circle and he's got a bigger than life sized bronze statue of himself. Varina, his wife, has a seated angel over hers
The Atkinson family didn't want to leave any doubt as to their religious affiliation - not only a life sized praying angel but a larger than life sized cross.
My favorite statue of the entire cemetery was this one. She kneels on the grave of a 19 year old boy. I immediately thought, "that's his mother" the instant I saw it.
I'm sure this won't be the last graveyard I visit. What's fascinating about 18th, 19th and early 20th century graves are the variety of the monuments. Post 1950, the monuments are all rectangular slabs of granite. There are no angels, lambs, dogs, fancy fences, crosses, mythological creatures, or fanciful miniature buildings. Post 1970 there aren't even that many granite rectangles. Instead, there are flat plaques even with the ground. Ease of mowing has replaced expressions of grief. I think the faceless perpetual care of contemporary cemeteries coupled with the movement for better land use and the not inconsequential cost of burial is making places like the Hollywood Cemetery relics of the past.
The rest of the pix show other interesting features of this cemetery.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Civil War, oh, excuse me, The War Between the States
Over one hundred years after the horrible American conflict, depending on which side of the Mason Dixon line you lived, you either studied the Civil War (the Northern perception of the war) or The War Between the States (the Southern take on the war). When we visited the Museum of the Confederacy, the 'war between the states' argument is still being presented. In a nutshell, the Southern reasoning is they were fighting for 'states rights' in contrast to the Northern perception of fighting to preserve the Union between the States. Historians agree the war was about economics, specifically slave economics. The more the Northern abolitionists and politicians tried to limit and thwart the slave economy, the more rabid the Southern politicians and planter class (slave holders) became. They considered slaves property, and thus, should be regulated by the property owners, and otherwise only lightly regulated by the individual states, not the Federal Government. The territories were the rub: Slavery permitted or not? Who decides? Various compromises were tried to no avail. Lincoln's election as President from the new abolitionist dominated Republican Party was the last straw. Even former President John Tyler trying to promote a peace conference didn't stop the slavery conflict from escalating to all out war. I wonder if the participants could have seen the future, would they have been so eager to start firing weapons?
The Museum of the Confederacy left me with an overwhelming sadness similar to what I felt when I went to Gettysburg. This museum's strong points are the amazing number of actual artifacts they possess as well as a comprehensive chronological overview of the War from 1860 to 1865. As you move through the various battles, the casualty figures mount and mount. The sheer bloodshed on both sides is almost unbelievable. The Civil War is an example of tactics used from the previous war meeting the first mass output of industrially produced weapons. This war is filled with 'charges' by waves of soldiers against rapid fire weapons as well as multiple canons. You can imagine the carnage. The South, having a smaller population, and almost no manufacturing base could ill afford to fight this type of war. By the end of the second year, the Southern defeat was an inevitable conclusion.
Situated next to the Museum of the Confederacy, in fact, the museum's first home, is the White House of the Confederacy. This mansion built in the 1830's was a wonderfully decorated example of a mid 19th century home. It was filled not with reproductions, but with many original pieces used by the Davis family as well as fine original antiques of the period. It has been meticulously decorated using clues in correspondence as well as stripping off paint and layers of wall paper to get down to the time period of the house. The curators are very proud that the house has the same appearance as during the Davis' family occupation.
The most interesting person in the Davis family (my opinion) was not Jefferson, but rather his wife Varina. She came from a middle class family, and she continued to do a lot of her own chores as well as having middle class hobbies - like sewing with an early sewing machine making practical clothing. She was snubbed by the Southern upper class wives, but this didn't seem to affect her. She spent the post war years trying to secure her husband's release from prison (he did 2.5 years of 'time' after the war), and she raised her children. She was also a writer, and after the death of her husband, she secured a job with Joseph Pulitzer, owner of the New York World newspaper, as a columnist. She founded the New York Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy where she lived until her death. She's buried in the Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond with a lovely stone angel over her grave.
Pictures as always:
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5923466472365094609?authkey=CO_2uvnwvdKU8AE
The Museum of the Confederacy left me with an overwhelming sadness similar to what I felt when I went to Gettysburg. This museum's strong points are the amazing number of actual artifacts they possess as well as a comprehensive chronological overview of the War from 1860 to 1865. As you move through the various battles, the casualty figures mount and mount. The sheer bloodshed on both sides is almost unbelievable. The Civil War is an example of tactics used from the previous war meeting the first mass output of industrially produced weapons. This war is filled with 'charges' by waves of soldiers against rapid fire weapons as well as multiple canons. You can imagine the carnage. The South, having a smaller population, and almost no manufacturing base could ill afford to fight this type of war. By the end of the second year, the Southern defeat was an inevitable conclusion.
Situated next to the Museum of the Confederacy, in fact, the museum's first home, is the White House of the Confederacy. This mansion built in the 1830's was a wonderfully decorated example of a mid 19th century home. It was filled not with reproductions, but with many original pieces used by the Davis family as well as fine original antiques of the period. It has been meticulously decorated using clues in correspondence as well as stripping off paint and layers of wall paper to get down to the time period of the house. The curators are very proud that the house has the same appearance as during the Davis' family occupation.
The most interesting person in the Davis family (my opinion) was not Jefferson, but rather his wife Varina. She came from a middle class family, and she continued to do a lot of her own chores as well as having middle class hobbies - like sewing with an early sewing machine making practical clothing. She was snubbed by the Southern upper class wives, but this didn't seem to affect her. She spent the post war years trying to secure her husband's release from prison (he did 2.5 years of 'time' after the war), and she raised her children. She was also a writer, and after the death of her husband, she secured a job with Joseph Pulitzer, owner of the New York World newspaper, as a columnist. She founded the New York Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy where she lived until her death. She's buried in the Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond with a lovely stone angel over her grave.
Pictures as always:
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5923466472365094609?authkey=CO_2uvnwvdKU8AE
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Back to School
I ran into a woman in the bathroom yesterday who was a first year teacher retiree. We followed one another into the ladies room after touring the Confederate White House in the same six person group. I, of course, asked questions whenever the tour guide asked if anyone had any, so she said, "You're a teacher, right?" "What was your first clue," I laughed. I'm retired", I said. That's when she said, "This is my first year to be retired. It feel so strange not to be at school." Teachers bond over stuff. More so, I think, than people who work in a 'normal' atmosphere.
When the first day of school rolls around and you're a new retiree, you feel like you're pulling a fast one. It's hard to explain 'first day of school'. It's not just kids who are nervous, excited, and wondering what they should wear. The first glimpse of the kids you will see every day for 185 days is exhilarating, and, when you teach the alternative population, sometimes a little scary. The initial interaction sometimes sets the tone for the entire year with a class. The assessments start the first day about how you are going to help the kids that file into the room.
Teachers spend time, money and effort working 'off the clock'. In August of this year USA Today wrote an article about how much of their own money teachers wind up spending. It's not bad enough that teachers buy their own office supplies - imagine telling any other professional they need to buy copy paper, pens, pencils, oh, a stapler, staples and whatever else they think they might need to do their job! No, they don't just buy office supplies. They buy books, learning aids, enrichment materials, laboratory equipment, experiment materials, and other stuff that should be covered by their school district. Well, it isn't. Here's the USA article if you don't believe me. http://www.usatoday.com/story/money/personalfinance/2013/08/18/teachers-budget-money/2660077/
There's a relatively new phenomena - a website devoted to helping teachers raise money for their projects. This isn't about office supplies. This is about developing a project, a lesson plan, or enrichment program to help kids. These projects are 'vetted' and if they pass the scrutiny, then the project is offered to the public with the opportunity to help the teacher FUND the project. The website is called "Donor's Choose". I like to help teachers I KNOW. I specifically like to help a teacher I know who teaches in those places where the kids need the most help. That usually means 'poor'. My current teacher friend who falls into this category has a project on Donor's Choose.
She's bitten off a big chunk designing a great program to help her low income, rural, elementary school children improve their reading skills. She's hoping to challenge each child in her entire school to read 100 books this school year. Well, you have to have books kids WANT TO READ. That's what she needs. This project costs $1000.00 to fund. So far, she's raised $578 out of the $1000 to fund her idea.
Basically, I need you to go to this project, and give. It's real simple. We'll take $5.00. That's a cup of coffee. Of course, we'll also take $50. It's up to you. Read her idea. Look at the books she needs to buy. She needs THIS project funded NOW. There are only 40 days to raise $422 dollars. I'd like for you to join me and reduce that amount. Ready? Start? Click! This is so easy; do your part.
http://www.donorschoose.org/donors/proposal.html?id=1018066
When the first day of school rolls around and you're a new retiree, you feel like you're pulling a fast one. It's hard to explain 'first day of school'. It's not just kids who are nervous, excited, and wondering what they should wear. The first glimpse of the kids you will see every day for 185 days is exhilarating, and, when you teach the alternative population, sometimes a little scary. The initial interaction sometimes sets the tone for the entire year with a class. The assessments start the first day about how you are going to help the kids that file into the room.
Teachers spend time, money and effort working 'off the clock'. In August of this year USA Today wrote an article about how much of their own money teachers wind up spending. It's not bad enough that teachers buy their own office supplies - imagine telling any other professional they need to buy copy paper, pens, pencils, oh, a stapler, staples and whatever else they think they might need to do their job! No, they don't just buy office supplies. They buy books, learning aids, enrichment materials, laboratory equipment, experiment materials, and other stuff that should be covered by their school district. Well, it isn't. Here's the USA article if you don't believe me. http://www.usatoday.com/story/money/personalfinance/2013/08/18/teachers-budget-money/2660077/
There's a relatively new phenomena - a website devoted to helping teachers raise money for their projects. This isn't about office supplies. This is about developing a project, a lesson plan, or enrichment program to help kids. These projects are 'vetted' and if they pass the scrutiny, then the project is offered to the public with the opportunity to help the teacher FUND the project. The website is called "Donor's Choose". I like to help teachers I KNOW. I specifically like to help a teacher I know who teaches in those places where the kids need the most help. That usually means 'poor'. My current teacher friend who falls into this category has a project on Donor's Choose.
She's bitten off a big chunk designing a great program to help her low income, rural, elementary school children improve their reading skills. She's hoping to challenge each child in her entire school to read 100 books this school year. Well, you have to have books kids WANT TO READ. That's what she needs. This project costs $1000.00 to fund. So far, she's raised $578 out of the $1000 to fund her idea.
Basically, I need you to go to this project, and give. It's real simple. We'll take $5.00. That's a cup of coffee. Of course, we'll also take $50. It's up to you. Read her idea. Look at the books she needs to buy. She needs THIS project funded NOW. There are only 40 days to raise $422 dollars. I'd like for you to join me and reduce that amount. Ready? Start? Click! This is so easy; do your part.
http://www.donorschoose.org/donors/proposal.html?id=1018066
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Who? What? Where? When? I Don't Remember.
I'm tired of getting old. Now my 'good foot' is going wonky. I finally admitted it was really hurting and getting worse, so I went to the doctor. Turns out that I've damaged it, and now I'm wearing a foot brace that I have to wear 24/7 until I see the doctor again in one month. But that's not ALL. Right now, if I put my computer down and stood up, I would have to wait for everything to 'settle', and it would still hurt somewhere when I took my first step. Lots and lots of niggling little aches and pains that individually don't really bother me that much, but taken all together, well, it's a miracle I get out of bed.
I shouldn't complain since I can get out of bed, but I exercise almost every day. I'm supposed to feel better, aren't I? I supposed to be bursting with energy. For heaven sake's I swam laps more than 30 minutes today and did other stuff in the pool. Tomorrow, I'll probably lift weights - and then I'll really hurt. Ok, Ok, Ok. It's not just the physical stuff.
I'm discovering I'm losing the ability to spell. I've always been a great visual speller, and I can still usually do that, but sometimes, I now have to spell a word phonetically - yeah, I had to do that with the "p" word in this sentence. I got the red wavy underline which just silently screams, "You dummy". Spell check is saving my ass. How depressing. I was never a good audible speller, but to just have words 'vanish' out of my head is disconcerting. It's not every word, of course, but sometimes it's EASY words that go poof. I just hate that.
Also, soon I'm going to have to write a list to make sure I remember everything I need to do to go pee. My life is totally controlled by lists and calendars. My mother was the queen of lists and the empress of the calendar. Now, I understand why. If I don't write it down, then I don't remember when/what/who. I can just about remember to buy four items at the grocery store without having to make a list. Does it count against me that I have to say the four items as a mantra under my breath the entire time I drive to the store?
Don't get me started with trying to 'find' something. This one is really frustrating. Drake insisted that we list everything that's packed in a 'tub' when we started this peripatetic (got that one spelled the first time!) life. That system has worked really well. As we move around, though, last minute stuff in these mini-moves tends to get tucked away in that nebulous land of 'someplace'. As in, "I know I put it SOMEPLACE!" Occasionally, "someplace" turns into, "DAMNATION! I can't believe that I left that, forgot that, or lost that."
We also play a new game around here called, "Where are my glasses?" No, it's not me - mine are always on my face. It's Drake. A few days ago, he looked and looked and looked for his favorite pair. They are not different from his others, but they are in his special soft leather case. He stomped around muttering, "I've just gone off and left them somewhere." Fortunately, they rematerialized. We went from, "Damn it, I've lost them!" into "Oh, I forgot, they were in my jacket pocket." This was a two day morph which caused quite a bit of angst around here.
I can also feel my brain processes slowing down. Now, I understand why the elderly increasingly dislike change and having to make snap decisions. I'm getting it. They are worried they've forgotten some key thing, and it paralyzes their decision making. Moving around from town to town is actually very helpful; we have to adapt to new traffic, new land marks, and have to REMEMBER where things are. Most days we are holding our own except on the days we don't. Those are the U-turn days. Or, the ones that have queries of, "Where was the CVS?" "Do you remember how we went to the post office last time?"
I also miss 'automatic pilot'. I used to be able to think or talk about something while doing some routine something else at the same time. My auto pilot got me through all the mundane stuff while I enjoyed doing other things with my brain. Now, that luxury has slipped away. I have to actually pay attention to the ordinary repetitive stuff, or I will forget some key thing in the sequence that used to be just automatic. If I don't give the ordinary my complete attention, I periodically leave the house without something, or I wander around retracing my steps a zillion times as I try to get the easy stuff done.
I'm also tired of wrinkles, age spots, and drooping whatever. This actually bothers me less than the other stuff since I was never a great beauty. For those women who WERE beauties in their youth, this wrinkle, droop, spot thing must be horrifying and anger inducing. You know what the worst part is? It's looking in the mirror and seeing the faint lines that YOU KNOW are going to be cavernous wrinkles in another ten years. That's why really, really old women never look like pictures of their younger selves. We change into people we don't even recognize in the mirror. How screwed up is that?
All right, I've finished whining. Just saying that some days life seems all uphill with pot holes. Of course, at some point, any day you're vertical instead of horizontal is a good day. Just goes to show: All things are relative.
I shouldn't complain since I can get out of bed, but I exercise almost every day. I'm supposed to feel better, aren't I? I supposed to be bursting with energy. For heaven sake's I swam laps more than 30 minutes today and did other stuff in the pool. Tomorrow, I'll probably lift weights - and then I'll really hurt. Ok, Ok, Ok. It's not just the physical stuff.
I'm discovering I'm losing the ability to spell. I've always been a great visual speller, and I can still usually do that, but sometimes, I now have to spell a word phonetically - yeah, I had to do that with the "p" word in this sentence. I got the red wavy underline which just silently screams, "You dummy". Spell check is saving my ass. How depressing. I was never a good audible speller, but to just have words 'vanish' out of my head is disconcerting. It's not every word, of course, but sometimes it's EASY words that go poof. I just hate that.
Also, soon I'm going to have to write a list to make sure I remember everything I need to do to go pee. My life is totally controlled by lists and calendars. My mother was the queen of lists and the empress of the calendar. Now, I understand why. If I don't write it down, then I don't remember when/what/who. I can just about remember to buy four items at the grocery store without having to make a list. Does it count against me that I have to say the four items as a mantra under my breath the entire time I drive to the store?
Don't get me started with trying to 'find' something. This one is really frustrating. Drake insisted that we list everything that's packed in a 'tub' when we started this peripatetic (got that one spelled the first time!) life. That system has worked really well. As we move around, though, last minute stuff in these mini-moves tends to get tucked away in that nebulous land of 'someplace'. As in, "I know I put it SOMEPLACE!" Occasionally, "someplace" turns into, "DAMNATION! I can't believe that I left that, forgot that, or lost that."
We also play a new game around here called, "Where are my glasses?" No, it's not me - mine are always on my face. It's Drake. A few days ago, he looked and looked and looked for his favorite pair. They are not different from his others, but they are in his special soft leather case. He stomped around muttering, "I've just gone off and left them somewhere." Fortunately, they rematerialized. We went from, "Damn it, I've lost them!" into "Oh, I forgot, they were in my jacket pocket." This was a two day morph which caused quite a bit of angst around here.
I can also feel my brain processes slowing down. Now, I understand why the elderly increasingly dislike change and having to make snap decisions. I'm getting it. They are worried they've forgotten some key thing, and it paralyzes their decision making. Moving around from town to town is actually very helpful; we have to adapt to new traffic, new land marks, and have to REMEMBER where things are. Most days we are holding our own except on the days we don't. Those are the U-turn days. Or, the ones that have queries of, "Where was the CVS?" "Do you remember how we went to the post office last time?"
I also miss 'automatic pilot'. I used to be able to think or talk about something while doing some routine something else at the same time. My auto pilot got me through all the mundane stuff while I enjoyed doing other things with my brain. Now, that luxury has slipped away. I have to actually pay attention to the ordinary repetitive stuff, or I will forget some key thing in the sequence that used to be just automatic. If I don't give the ordinary my complete attention, I periodically leave the house without something, or I wander around retracing my steps a zillion times as I try to get the easy stuff done.
I'm also tired of wrinkles, age spots, and drooping whatever. This actually bothers me less than the other stuff since I was never a great beauty. For those women who WERE beauties in their youth, this wrinkle, droop, spot thing must be horrifying and anger inducing. You know what the worst part is? It's looking in the mirror and seeing the faint lines that YOU KNOW are going to be cavernous wrinkles in another ten years. That's why really, really old women never look like pictures of their younger selves. We change into people we don't even recognize in the mirror. How screwed up is that?
All right, I've finished whining. Just saying that some days life seems all uphill with pot holes. Of course, at some point, any day you're vertical instead of horizontal is a good day. Just goes to show: All things are relative.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Might as Well Have Been Mars
In 2023 there's going to be commercially backed manned mission to Mars. Applications are being accepted and evaluated for the one way trip. There are apparently five 'astronaut' characteristics the leaders of the mission are looking for: Resiliency, Adaptability, Curiosity, Ability to Trust, and Creativity/Resourcefulness.
In 1606 the Virginia Company was chartered by King James. This was a commercial venture by a group of English merchants and aristocrats to establish a colony in the New World. The purpose was to tap into the vast resources they were sure existed in the unexplored continent. 104 men made the four month journey in three small ships and established the Jamestown Colony. They chose a small almost island in the James River. It was connected with an isthmus to the mainland, and it was chosen because it would be easy to defend against the Spanish who didn't like anybody else from Europe horning in on the New World resources. This is the first English settlement in the United States. I was utterly struck today by the similarity of these two missions 400 years apart.
After our visit today, it was perfectly clear that you would have to exhibit the five astronaut traits PLUS have a boatload of luck to just survive. I wondered all day long who these men were. They signed up for a one way trip into the unknown just like their 21st century counterparts who want to go to Mars. I was struck by the list of occupations of the first Jamestown colonists. One was pretty hilarious in terms of 21st century hindsight - a jeweler to evaluate all the precious stones they hoped to find. There were also soldiers, explorers (specifically Captain John Smith), metallurgists, barrel makers, carpenters, farmers, leather workers, and laborers. When it became clear via Spanish gossip whispered in England, the colonists were marrying the native women, 90 English women arrived the fourth year of the colony. The women's survival was even more perilous: They faced childbirth in this bare subsistence environment.
The Company instructions to the colonists were to coexist with the natives since they hoped to trade with them for food and absorb local geographic knowledge. That detente attitude lasted for about two years. At that point relations deteriorated steadily due to the usual problems of two cultures rubbing up against one another. The real blow was the disastrous winter of 1609-10. It's called "the Starving Time" and has been documented by historians. The earliest colonists managed to arrive in the middle of the worst drought in 800 years. Not only did they not have enough stores for winter, but they were penned in the fort they had erected against Indian attacks by the very Indians they were fighting. Out of 500 colonists, only 60 survived that winter, and it's been proven they resorted to cannibalism to survive. Today, we saw the skeleton of a 14 year old girl whose body had been cannibalized. After eating her facial meat, cracking open her femurs for the marrow and opening her skull to eat the brain, she was dumped into an abandoned well. Her desecration proves the utter desperation of the few survivors.
The colony was on the point of extinction in the spring of 1610 when a strong willed governor arrived on a well-provisioned ship and saved the colony. This was the beginning of the end of the Powhatan Indians. They had used Jamestown and the surrounding lands on the James River as their summer home for about 10,000 years. Within 50 years of the arrival of the English, their numbers dwindled from 15,000 to 2,000.
As the 17th century unfolded, Jamestown became a jumping off place for new arrivals from England. It didn't take long for the word to spread there was unlimited land for the taking. Jamestown's political importance dwindled when the 'capital' of Virginia was moved up the peninsula to the new town of Williamsburg in 1698.
Jamestown's successful establishment proved there was value in the New World. Colonists experimented with several industries looking for the 'cash' crop. John Rolfe, a key early colonist, managed to grow a Caribbean strain of tobacco and ship it to England. Jackpot! Tobacco was a double edged sword: It gave the Virginia colony it's economic backbone and profitability, but it also established slavery in America as more and more of the profitable tobacco was planted. Tobacco is very labor intensive, and gradually over a 50 year time span, the labor was increasingly provided by slaves forcibly imported from Africa.
Jamestown languished as the centuries passed finally becoming only farm land. That was a stroke of luck because in the 1990's backed by private financing, archaeologists began excavating the site discovering a treasure trove just inches under the surface. They found the layout of the original fort, the first legislative building in the United States, a large church, and a huge trading house. They also found the detritus of the first colonists as well as their bodies.
It struck me how Jamestown is much more representative of who American's are than the pious bible toting Pilgrims. Jamestown was all about money, getting ahead, innovation, hard work, and taking a chance. What's more American than that? The proof? Well, over 250,00 people want to make that one way trip to Mars. I think those applicants would have been on the same wavelength as those Jamestown colonists 400 years ago.
If you want to see the pictures of this fascinating place where it all started, here they are:
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5921801456105992961?authkey=CPXEmOf37bymwgE
In 1606 the Virginia Company was chartered by King James. This was a commercial venture by a group of English merchants and aristocrats to establish a colony in the New World. The purpose was to tap into the vast resources they were sure existed in the unexplored continent. 104 men made the four month journey in three small ships and established the Jamestown Colony. They chose a small almost island in the James River. It was connected with an isthmus to the mainland, and it was chosen because it would be easy to defend against the Spanish who didn't like anybody else from Europe horning in on the New World resources. This is the first English settlement in the United States. I was utterly struck today by the similarity of these two missions 400 years apart.
After our visit today, it was perfectly clear that you would have to exhibit the five astronaut traits PLUS have a boatload of luck to just survive. I wondered all day long who these men were. They signed up for a one way trip into the unknown just like their 21st century counterparts who want to go to Mars. I was struck by the list of occupations of the first Jamestown colonists. One was pretty hilarious in terms of 21st century hindsight - a jeweler to evaluate all the precious stones they hoped to find. There were also soldiers, explorers (specifically Captain John Smith), metallurgists, barrel makers, carpenters, farmers, leather workers, and laborers. When it became clear via Spanish gossip whispered in England, the colonists were marrying the native women, 90 English women arrived the fourth year of the colony. The women's survival was even more perilous: They faced childbirth in this bare subsistence environment.
The Company instructions to the colonists were to coexist with the natives since they hoped to trade with them for food and absorb local geographic knowledge. That detente attitude lasted for about two years. At that point relations deteriorated steadily due to the usual problems of two cultures rubbing up against one another. The real blow was the disastrous winter of 1609-10. It's called "the Starving Time" and has been documented by historians. The earliest colonists managed to arrive in the middle of the worst drought in 800 years. Not only did they not have enough stores for winter, but they were penned in the fort they had erected against Indian attacks by the very Indians they were fighting. Out of 500 colonists, only 60 survived that winter, and it's been proven they resorted to cannibalism to survive. Today, we saw the skeleton of a 14 year old girl whose body had been cannibalized. After eating her facial meat, cracking open her femurs for the marrow and opening her skull to eat the brain, she was dumped into an abandoned well. Her desecration proves the utter desperation of the few survivors.
The colony was on the point of extinction in the spring of 1610 when a strong willed governor arrived on a well-provisioned ship and saved the colony. This was the beginning of the end of the Powhatan Indians. They had used Jamestown and the surrounding lands on the James River as their summer home for about 10,000 years. Within 50 years of the arrival of the English, their numbers dwindled from 15,000 to 2,000.
As the 17th century unfolded, Jamestown became a jumping off place for new arrivals from England. It didn't take long for the word to spread there was unlimited land for the taking. Jamestown's political importance dwindled when the 'capital' of Virginia was moved up the peninsula to the new town of Williamsburg in 1698.
Jamestown's successful establishment proved there was value in the New World. Colonists experimented with several industries looking for the 'cash' crop. John Rolfe, a key early colonist, managed to grow a Caribbean strain of tobacco and ship it to England. Jackpot! Tobacco was a double edged sword: It gave the Virginia colony it's economic backbone and profitability, but it also established slavery in America as more and more of the profitable tobacco was planted. Tobacco is very labor intensive, and gradually over a 50 year time span, the labor was increasingly provided by slaves forcibly imported from Africa.
Jamestown languished as the centuries passed finally becoming only farm land. That was a stroke of luck because in the 1990's backed by private financing, archaeologists began excavating the site discovering a treasure trove just inches under the surface. They found the layout of the original fort, the first legislative building in the United States, a large church, and a huge trading house. They also found the detritus of the first colonists as well as their bodies.
It struck me how Jamestown is much more representative of who American's are than the pious bible toting Pilgrims. Jamestown was all about money, getting ahead, innovation, hard work, and taking a chance. What's more American than that? The proof? Well, over 250,00 people want to make that one way trip to Mars. I think those applicants would have been on the same wavelength as those Jamestown colonists 400 years ago.
If you want to see the pictures of this fascinating place where it all started, here they are:
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5921801456105992961?authkey=CPXEmOf37bymwgE
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Virginia: Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden
I've been waiting impatiently to get to the famous botanical garden before the summer season is over. No matter how well done, an autumn and winter garden are just not as good as a spring and summer one. First, though, we had to buy something to sit on. Due to the wedding boxes we drug from Arizona to Austin, we had to leave behind the easy chairs we normally travel with. We buzzed over lots of Richmond following up on thrift stores and Craigslist items. In two days we managed to buy two easy chairs - Drake actually got a great leather recliner - as well as a table and chairs, a six foot bookcase (there are no drawers or shelves in this apartment), two chests of drawers; mine is missing the bottom drawer, but for $10 it was a bargain, and I just consider the open area to be shoe storage. We acquired all of this is two days for under $200. Since it's all going to be resold or donated in December, it doesn't pay to go upscale.
Then we had to go get our health club settled. This one is swank, swank, swank. It's gorgeous, new and reasonable. Boy, are we going to be spoiled when we leave here. They provide all the towels, both work-out and bath towels. There are hairdryers and air diffusers (cool air blows on you) in front of the individual lighted makeup stations). There is an indoor salt water lap pool, an exercise pool and a spa. There's another pool and health food restaurant on top of the building, and the parking is covered. All the exercise equipment is the latest,and there's a large selection of classes included in the price. It's less than 10 minutes from the apartment. Of course, now I have to go exercise. There's always a fly in the ointment, isn't there?
Yesterday, perfect weather day incidentally, we headed for the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden a highly touted 'must see' United States garden. Ginter was a wheeler dealer of the 19th century who made and lost four fortunes in his lifetime. The last fortune was made in real estate as he developed the first Richmond suburb. The property where the garden is located was purchased by him to be used by Richmond bicyclers in pursuing the new bicycling craze that was sweeping the country in the 1890s. (Bicycling did more to modify the heavy, unwieldy women's clothes of the 19th century than the previous 100 years of clothing reform.) After his death, Ginter's niece, Grace Arents, purchased the bicycling property with the clubhouse and founded a convalescent home for sick children along with her companion, Mary Garland Smith. ("Companion" is exactly how the brochure describes her!) Grace died in 1926 leaving life rights to Mary of the property and the stipulation upon Mary's death, Richmond would turn the property into a botanical garden and name it after her Uncle Lewis. Well, Mary lived to be 102! She didn't die until 1968. The property was pretty much abandoned, and languished until in 1981 when a group of committed horticulturists and botanists got the botanical garden off the ground. In about 30 years the City of Richmond has managed to sponsor the creation of a nationally famous botanical garden thanks to this group of citizens.
It's not very big when compared to Montreal's garden, but each area is exquisite. There are also 14 buildings - gazebos, and the like, scattered throughout the property with numerous benches and places to simply sit and contemplate the beauty of this place. There's an imposing glass conservatory with a dome sitting in a lawn area used for concerts. As always, the pictures tell the story.
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5920903614294834001?authkey=CIjS6J-CvK-DwgE
Then we had to go get our health club settled. This one is swank, swank, swank. It's gorgeous, new and reasonable. Boy, are we going to be spoiled when we leave here. They provide all the towels, both work-out and bath towels. There are hairdryers and air diffusers (cool air blows on you) in front of the individual lighted makeup stations). There is an indoor salt water lap pool, an exercise pool and a spa. There's another pool and health food restaurant on top of the building, and the parking is covered. All the exercise equipment is the latest,and there's a large selection of classes included in the price. It's less than 10 minutes from the apartment. Of course, now I have to go exercise. There's always a fly in the ointment, isn't there?
Yesterday, perfect weather day incidentally, we headed for the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden a highly touted 'must see' United States garden. Ginter was a wheeler dealer of the 19th century who made and lost four fortunes in his lifetime. The last fortune was made in real estate as he developed the first Richmond suburb. The property where the garden is located was purchased by him to be used by Richmond bicyclers in pursuing the new bicycling craze that was sweeping the country in the 1890s. (Bicycling did more to modify the heavy, unwieldy women's clothes of the 19th century than the previous 100 years of clothing reform.) After his death, Ginter's niece, Grace Arents, purchased the bicycling property with the clubhouse and founded a convalescent home for sick children along with her companion, Mary Garland Smith. ("Companion" is exactly how the brochure describes her!) Grace died in 1926 leaving life rights to Mary of the property and the stipulation upon Mary's death, Richmond would turn the property into a botanical garden and name it after her Uncle Lewis. Well, Mary lived to be 102! She didn't die until 1968. The property was pretty much abandoned, and languished until in 1981 when a group of committed horticulturists and botanists got the botanical garden off the ground. In about 30 years the City of Richmond has managed to sponsor the creation of a nationally famous botanical garden thanks to this group of citizens.
It's not very big when compared to Montreal's garden, but each area is exquisite. There are also 14 buildings - gazebos, and the like, scattered throughout the property with numerous benches and places to simply sit and contemplate the beauty of this place. There's an imposing glass conservatory with a dome sitting in a lawn area used for concerts. As always, the pictures tell the story.
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/115478608971584948192/albums/5920903614294834001?authkey=CIjS6J-CvK-DwgE
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