A Trip to New York City

It's been a week since I left the mountain
and went to New York City
with my friend Jill
on a Fullington "Do Your Own Thing" tour.

Jill and I had asked for NYC advice from friends.
We decided on the Intrepid aircraft carrier
and the 911 Museum.
(It was raining and 33 degrees,
so Central Park
and the High Line
were Right Out.)

On the Intrepid,
the gigantic seldom-used anchor chain in the fo'c'sle
was impressive,
as is the word "fo'c'sle"--
TWO apostrophes!
Some planes had folding wings
like Uncle Ric's Clairton basement toys.
We saw the space shuttle (!!!!) Enterprise
and ate hot dogs in the Intrepid cafeteria.
"For $4.50,
they had better be darned good hot dogs!"
They were.
We saw the intersecting triangles of the new World Trade Center,
the sober footprint pools of the former World Trade Center,
and photographs of thousands of faces of people
who died that morning in September.

The space shuttle Enterprise! Wow!

Our first destination

Jill on the deck of the Intrepid

The new tower disappeared into the sky

Pools rimmed with names now stand where the twin towers once stood

Jill and I have many memories of the things we saw that day,
but is the people that we encountered
that perhaps have made the most lasting memories:

The skid steer driver
clearing the streets of trash and snow
after the Saint Patrick's Day parade
who waved at us as I picked up my first souvenirs,
three new green plastic hats.

The skid steer driver had more work to do

A man told us in an Australian accent
about seeing Sully and his airplane
float down the Hudson River
 right there.

The young guide on the submarine Growler
told us that the cigarette smoke
was so thick
that men had to reach above their heads
to find enough oxygen
to light up again,
and that cinnamon rolls were served at midnight.

One Intrepid veteran
told of a shipmate who had fallen overboard
while taking on supplies
and was found the next year.
ALIVE.
Hmmmmm.
I asked,
"Did he,
perchance,
fall in shortly before midnight
on December 31?"
He grinned.

I asked another veteran,
an ex-marine pilot from the carrier Lexington,
what it was like to land for the first time on a carrier,
and how to know if you need to abort
when something goes wrong.
He replied,
"Did you ever get up in the middle of the night
and stumble to the bathroom
and sit down when the lid is still down?
You know immediately that something is wrong.
Flying is like that..."

The girl at the souvenir shop
told us exactly how to catch a bus,
then gave us all the quarters we'd need.

The crosstown bus driver at the Circle Line stop
explained bus transfers,
then reminded us when to get off.

We remember the old women in wheelchairs
who that same busdriver
loaded oh-so-patiently
and gently strapped in
for a trip of a few blocks.

A woman with long dreads
waited with us at the downtown bus stop.
We wondered together
why those guys on bikes
kept disappearing and returning.

We remember the driver of the downtown bus
who explained a bit about the treeless neighborhoods--
I wonder where the closest squirrel is?
and the passenger who was so enthusiastic
telling us about the neighborhood schools
that she missed her stop.

A woman from Chicago
had just taken her first subway ride
and imparted her new-found wisdom.

The helpful worker at the subway entrance
advised us to get one ticket
for the two of us
and thus save a dollar.

A woman at the subway turnstile
showed me the Goldilocksian way to scan the pass.
"Too fast!"
"Too slow..."
"Ju-u-u-ust right!"
She smiled a goodbye
as I pushed through the gate.

The subway was much faster
but didn't have quite the same camaraderie as the buses.
A earbudded man sat across from us,
his stocking cap  pulled over his eyes.
Was he antisocial?
Probably.
Thought curious about his story,
I respected his silence.
I also restrained my inner cheeky child
from beeping his exposed nose,
much to Jill's relief.

We still had an hour
before the bus to Clearfield would return
so we walked the few blocks to Times Square.
The music blared from Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum
and I danced with a few happy strangers
in the middle of the sidewalk
before moving on.

I took a picture of Jill taking a picture of the Times Square ball

Dances With Strangers--
perhaps a good phrase for a movie title
or an epitaph.
Will Rogers,
who once visited this mountain of mine,
said, "Strangers are just friends we haven't met yet."


Joy in your journey
as you turn strangers into friends,
Sue

The House That Den Left

Last night
we celebrated Den's return from the Dominican Republic
with stories of time well-spent with friends
and Daeny's raisin cake.
Den had walked the cake through customs specially
so I could enjoy Daeny's gift.
Delicious!
He then caught me up
on the lives of friends not seen since the late nineties,
when we helped with education seminars.
He told of songs sung enthusiastically
and a presentation
where the Prodigal Son's family was played by monkey puppets
and the tour of Lilo's state-of-the-art school
and gave me the perfect gift:
a colorful necklace made of a water beetle's body.

Daeny's raisin cake

Bible school

Den coaches monkey puppeteers

Then it was my turn.
My story was more like The House That Jack Built:
See this skirt I'm wearing?
This is the skirt that was still in my closet
after I sleepily packed up many bags of clothing to donate
and accidentally gave away some of my favorites
because I may as well clean out my closet
since I had to take everything out of the closet at midnight on Monday
to let the plumber
(who made it up the driveway
because the snowstorm of the decade failed to materialize)
...to let the plumber see to fix the leak
in the closet's frozen pipe
that soaked the carpet padding
that wetted my socks
and thankfully let me know
that there WAS a leak
before it ruined the kitchen ceiling below.
And it only took two hours and a small section of pipe to fix.
The bill is on the table.
I haven't looked at it yet.

Newly cleaned closet

A new pipe elbow at The Scene Of The Crime

The pen that signs checks to the plumber

This morning there was leftover cake. Yay!
As I walked to the jeep
wearing the new water beetle necklace
and other clothing I had NOT accidentally given away,
Den, with happy cat at his ankles,
gave me the traditional daily send-off:
"Thanks for letting me be retired!"
to which I gave my traditional response:
"Thanks for taking care of the house and the bills!"
Except I rrrrrrrreally meant it,
like 287% more than usual.

Water beetle necklace. Cool.

We both have had adventures this week
and are grateful to have our missing parts back.
This week,
may all your adventures be good ones,
but if they're not so good,
may they at least make an interesting story.


PS. Three dollars at Goodwill
should pay for what I accidentally gave away.

Remembering Pamela Johnson

Pamela Johnson, 1957-2017

You moved to Penfield?
From California?
Why?

I had questions for this gentle visitor, Pamela.
She had chosen our church,
Bethany Covenant in DuBois,
because she had loved her Covenant church in California.
I learned she was a graduate
of Parsons School of Design in Manhattan,
the number one art school in the nation,
then the artist became a psychologist
who left her Mount Lassen wildflowers
and moved to Penfield to be closer to her mom
who lived in the eastern part of the state.

I teach in Penfield,
a tiny town nestled at the foot of the continental divide
and volunteered to take her jeeping
through the mountains surrounding her new home.
We splashed through puddles,
explored abandoned mills,
looked for opsrey at a mountain impoundment,
walked to rock outcroppings,
and watched the beech leaves turn from green to burnt sienna.
She loved her neighbors, the elk.
Pam came to Bible study,
helped decorate the church for Christmas,
sat around the fire with us.

Soon after the move to Pennsylvania,
her mom died
and Pam missed California's scenery and working conditions.
When the weather warmed,
we helped her pack for her move back to California,
to a new town, Alturas.
We kept in touch via computer
and continued to enjoy her artist's viewpoint
in photographs of landscape details
and pastels of western wildflowers.

Frost feathers! A gift for those who observe

Paintbrush. Pam knew both the literal and the botanical

If I am interpreting what I've read correctly,
last week Pamela visited
an artist she had befriended in Alturas
who, unbeknownst to her, was a felon.
Things went wrong
and he turned on her.
We read of her death on Facebook.

If God is a god outside of the realm of time,
perhaps my tearful prayers
that God comfort her on her transition to heaven
made a difference.
She was, and is, His child
and perfect love casts out fear.
Say her name in remembrance:
Pamela Johnson.
Pamela Johnson.
Pamela Johnson.
There is joy in the morning.
But now it is night
and we continue to cry.

A Christmas Carol 2016, Epilogue

 
-->

This year will be the eightieth first grade performance

of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”.

In 2001

I spray painted pennies gold

and put them in Grandma Maud’s tin box

where they made a wonderful metallic sound when shaken.

A white ostrich plume

picked up in the streets of Nassau

during the Junkanoo celebration

became Bob Cratchit’s quill pen.

The Ghost of Christmas Present

started with a Dollar Store elf hat

but now has a Father Christmas suit

with wreath hat,

fur-collared robe,

and long white beard.

The Ghost of Christmas Past 

now has a velvet medieval gown

and sequined wand.

Jacob Marley now has real chains.

Everybody gets some kind of costume

I have an IKEA bag filled with vests for the boys

and skirts of all sizes for the girls.

Casting is always interesting.

After telling the story and reading through the script

I have kids sign up for LOTS of different parts

so that they almost always get a part they were interested in.

Jacob Marley needs to be uninhibited

and say “Oooooooooooo!” really well.

Tiny Tim often goes to the smallest child

but we have had larger Tiny Tims 

because they were great limpers.

Scrooge needs to be able to remember lines and speak clearly.

One year Scrooge was the shyest girl in the class

but I knew she could handle the part

because one day during silent reading

she surprised the class--

and herself--

by shouting  “LET ME DRIVE THE BUS!!!!”

She was perfect.

Each year there are moments never-to-be-forgotten:

The Ghost of Christmas Present entering with a handspring.

The Ghost of Christmas Future blindly tripping on his long robe.

Scrooge falling off a large table while enthusiastically dancing—

the superintendent was present for that one--

and skirts falling off during Mr Fezziwig’s Christmas dance.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

ad-libbing, “Ebenezer! Think about what you DONE!”

This year I have my smallest class ever

so some kids have multiple parts;

the charity worker is also Mr. Fezziwig and a villager.

(He read his lines the first day in a British accent

but shyness has kicked in

and he hasn’t done it again.)

Bob Cratchit doesn’t know his lines yet,

but has a huge nice-guy smile.

Amy is Tiny Tim

who limps with the aid of a pebble in her shoe.

Joel may be the best Scrooge ever—

he thinks about EVERY LINE

and says it with such expression,

from “Bah! Humbug!”

to “Will the child live?”

to “Thank you Spirits! I will honor Christmas in my heart!”

As we get ready for our December performances

I think about the Scrooges over the years--

boys and girls,

black and white and multiracial--

and I think about how there are no boundaries

on who is cruel

or who is beyond redemption.

We thank God this Christmas season

for the incarnation,

for the baby

who brought the gifts of grace

and mercy

and the ever-present possibility of change.

Tiny Tim's self portrait

Epilogue:

“How did it go?” you ask.

They sang. Loudly.

Apparently Marley’s speech impediment

is worse than I realized

as few people could understand what he actually said,

but his oooooohs and chain-shaking skills

still carried the redemption story along.

The Ghost of Christmas Past got rave reviews

as she delivered her lines clearly 

with a huge smile

in her lovely velvet dress,

her hair poofing all around her sparkly tinsel headpiece.

Scrooge was wonderful, as predicted,

but during the afternoon performance

he had difficulty getting out of his bed

sending the Ghost of Christmas Present into a nervous giggle fit.

(Remember those?

I think they lessen near the end of adolescence.)

The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn’t talk

and didn’t trip,

so that was an easy one.

I saw no fingers in noses,

another reason to be thankful.

There were a few things I would have changed;

hindsight is like that...

“It was the best of times.

It was the worst of times.”

Another Dickens quote*

that is true for plays,

for teaching,

for many situations in 2016

and probably 2017 as well.

In 2017,

may the best of times

be frequent

and appreciated

and the worst of times be redeemed

as you feel the breath of God

on your life.

God, bless us, every one!

From our chimney to yours, happy Christmas!

*The opening paragraph of A Tale of Two Cities:

“It was the best of times,

it was the worst of times,

it was the age of wisdom,

it was the age of foolishness,

it was the epoch of belief,

it was the epoch of incredulity,

it was the season of light,

it was the season of darkness,

it was the spring of hope,

it was the winter of despair.”

 

August Thoughts

It's an August Sunday afternoon, hot.
Seeds have brought finches to raid the coneflowers.
The thunder is rumbling on all sides of the mountain
but the rain is holding off.
Soon I may have to rescue my school bag sitting on the driveway
but I'm saving that for an adventurous dash.
School begins Tuesday.
I am still teaching first grade at Penfield,
a tiny school with a forested hill behind it,
a creek across the road,
and an occasional elk on the ballfield.
"Are you ready for school?" people ask.
Yes.
After thirty-some years, I still love to teach.
This year, the toughest thing
may be saying the final line of the pledge of allegiance--
"...with liberty and justice for all."
My wise uncle suggested I say the words as a prayer instead.
My mind will soon be filled with memorizing names
and remembering to bring milkweed for the monarch caterpillars
and studying yet another new math curriculum.
I will unload ten thoughts from August
before they get crowded out.


10.  Lightning
Recently a lightning bolt struck a large oak
near where Paul and Kate were married ten
(ten!)
years ago.
There is now a large crack from a treetop  branch to the ground.
We found oak splinters sixty feet away on our sidewalk.
Lightning strikes are scary cool.

9. Fenwick Beach
Here is our beach advice:
Build a giant sand castle in front of you at the beach
and no one will move in and block your view.
Especially if you build steps down to the surf
and number them.
Then you can also watch the tide come in mathematically.
If you want passersby to stop,
make bridges
and deep doors
and windows that cast shadows
and embellish the castle with beach finds
like feathers
and shells
and seagrass roots.
By the way,
we start our mornings with coffee and donuts
instead of yoga.
And those toned and tanned lifeguards?
They have no idea that someday they may have
a sixty-year-old coffee-and-donut body.

The view we remember

The striped umbrella is ours. We are NOT in the picture

8. Clothing
The perfect all-weather summer wardrobe is a scrub top,
nylon swim trunks,
and Crocs.


7. Rocks
All those rocks
that Denny helped me drag home
from Lake Ontario over the years
are now even more fascinating--
I've just watched Youtube rock stacking videos.
Once you understand the physics,
rock stacking can be addictive.

Fun near the mailbox

Rocks are the new Legos

6.  Cat Changes
Getting rid of a cat can be
both a happy
and sad occasion.
Chai the Indoor Siamese Cat
moved to Mechanicsburg to be Luke's companion.
No more being herded to the food dish!
No more moving the gate at the top of the stairs
each time we go up or down!
We no longer need litter box access--
the basement door can remain closed!
We can travel without finding a cat-sitter!
But we miss the adoration
(Siamese are more like dogs),
the nose bumps,
and making Chai groove when fast music comes on,
Twoey the Outdoor Heinz Cat is filling the gap.

Chai the Cat on his leash in the shade under the rock wagon

Twoey the Cat in the shade of the jeep roof on the hay wagon

 
5. Safety
It's important to finish jobs involving scaffolding before school starts
so that, if you fall,
your wife can call 911.
Sitting around waiting to call 911 is a tough job,
but somebody's got to do it.
And so the cabin chimney is done,
complete with a carabiner at the top
for anyone interested in climbing up to ring the bell on the eave.

Almost finished!

Waiting to call 911 is a tough job

4. The Swimming Hole
Hot afternoons call us to the swimming hole.
En route, we pluck wild blackberries without leaving the jeep.
They are hard little nuggets this year from lack of rain
but still very tasty.
I explore while Den bathes.
Water boatmen,
the ADHD insects of the aquatic world,
prefer the still water found inside rock rings.
Soon some will be living in cups
in the center of first grade tables.
Science is fun.

Hard. Seedy. Delicious.

Look closely and you'll see boatmen's ripples

 

3. Diets
Most of you know that I prefer short hair.
but as motivation to lose ten pounds--
I didn't snore ten pounds ago--
I'm letting my hair grow until the weight comes off.
One friend told me I may die looking like Rapunzel.


2. Police Encounters
I was followed by a city policeman recently
and when I stopped,
he informed me that it was illegal
to drive jeeps with the doors off
but he wouldn't ticket me this time.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou for not giving me a ticket!" I said,
and drove off, happy.
For about a mile.
Then the Libertarian in me got irate.
WHY should some law tell me I need doors?
Bicyclists don't have doors!
Motorcyclists don't have doors!
Doorless? Roofless?
That's summmmmmmmmmer!
I walked into the house complaining to Den,
who called the PA State Police.
It turns our we DON'T need doors.
If I get ticketed, I'm fighting it.

It's SUMMER!

1. August Olympics
While watching the O's,
we thought of Chariots of Fire,
the movie about runner/missionary Eric Liddell
who competed in the 1924 Olympics.
"I believe God made me for a purpose, 
but he also made me fast.
And when I run, I feel His pleasure."
We are not Olympians,
but God knew that when he made us.
"I believe God made me for a purpose,
but he also made me... enthusiastic?
And when I...
Build a castle?
Play with rocks?
Construct a chimney?
Taste warm blackberries?
Sing?
Write?
Dance?
Tend bees?
Bake?
Knit?
Paint?
Change a diaper?
Feed a cat?
Teach?
... I feel His pleasure."

As August fades,
we hope you use what is truly you
to feel God's pleasure. 

Ontario's Bruce Peninsula By the Numbers

We recently bought a new-to-us RV
and last week
we took it on a shake-down cruise
to Ontario's Bruce Peninsula.
The Bruce is a maritimey place
similar to the New England shore;
there are many sea gulls
and sea captains
but less people
and the water is fresh.
We were introduced to the Bruce,
a botanical wonderland similar to Wisconsin's Door Peninsula,
decades ago
by Houghton College professors
Arnold and Betty Cook.

One of these men is not a sea captain

880 miles there and back again

We towed a jeep that carried bicycles,
an arrangement that precludes backing up.
We only made that mistake once...
Between gallons
and liters and
Canadian exchange rates
in addition to my I-don't-want-to-know-how-much-it-costs frugality,
we may never figure out the RV's gas mileage.

Our jeep carried bikes

24 snakes on Flowerpot Island

It had been over thirty years
since we last walked the trails of Flowerpot,
named for geologic formations on the shoreline.
We found leaves and seedpods of spring orchids,
took a brief swim at a secluded beach,
and counted twenty-four snakes,
fourteen of them at one campsite--
Indiana Jones would never camp there.
The lighthouse bulletin board
had pushpins with countless snake skins;
I mentally filed that idea away
for my classroom science center
and wished we had kept
all the snake skins we had found
over the years.

One of the flowerpots on Flowerpot Island

 

Two of the fourteen ribbon snakes visible from my rock at campsite #3

At 10 AM
we got the last parking space to visit the grotto
where crazy against-the-rules cliff jumpers
plunge into the frigid waters of the Georgian Bay.
We sat in relative safety on the rocks
amused by a seagull trying to devour an enormous crayfish.

This seagull gagged on the giant crayfish

Den often serves as voluntary photographer for strangers' non-selfies

9 scoops of ice cream
were purchased on our sunset trips to Tobermory,
the town at the northern tip of the peninsula.
The rail seats of Crow's Nest Pub look down on Little Tub Harbor
and the town of Tobermory.
Each night, we talked with whomever was beside us
about menu suggestions
(Poutine! Fries and cheese curds covered with brown gravy!)
or the wardrobe choices of the passers-by below us.
We clapped when enormous trucks successfully parked in tiny spaces,
waved to bicyclists,
and took bets on which color vehicle would come by next.

The Crow's Nest Pub. Our traditional seat was beside the post

The view of Little Tub Harbor from the Crow's Nest

8+ interesting species of plants re-emerged from memories
and the pages of old botanical journals.
Pitcher plants.
Spatulate-leaved sundews.
Rose pogonias.
Butterworts.
Yellow ladies slippers.
Dwarf irises.
Indian paintbrush.
Maidenhair spleenworts...

Insectivorous pitcher plant in flower on left,
Indian paintbrush on right
growing in the Dorcas Bay fen

7 days at our home base, Tobermory

We ventured out each day to explore--
Cabot Head Lighthouse
Lion's Head
Tobermory History Museum
Tom Thomson Art Museum
Halfway Log Dump beach
Big Tub Harbor lighthouse
Fathom Five National Park viewing tower

Cormorants on the swimming raft at Lion's Head

Biking at Lion's Head

Tom Thomson, one of Den's favorite artists,  painted Canadian wilderness pictures

Lighthouse at Big Tub Harbor, the deepest natural harbor in the Great Lakes

View from Fathom Five tower

6 essential parts to an inuksuk:
Two legs
Hip rock
Stomach rock(s)
Shoulder/arm rock
Head

A true inuksuk,
one of the symbols of Canada,
always has a purpose--
to mark a food cache,
to help herd caribou,
to mark a trail.
We met a Tobermory artist,
Kent,
who had built an inuksuk that sited Mount Sinai!
We brought home rocks
for an inuksuk
in our yard
that now marks the site
of Paul and Kate's wedding.

Properly built inuksuk marks the 2006 wedding site

5 dollars at the Owen Sound Police Department parking lot
will get you a hamburger,
chips,
pop,
two Hershey kisses,
and interesting conversation with the locals.
All proceeds benefit local charities.
We were impressed with their ongoing community outreach;
the Dallas police shooting had happened only hours before.



4 shipwrecks on a 4 hour snorkel tour

Because of shallow water over the Niagara Escarpment
and the fierce Great Lakes storms
and the types of boats used,
there were SO many shipwrecks
that Canada created Fathom Five National Park.
I unsuccessfully concentrated
on keeping water out of my mask and snorkel
but managed to see three out of four ships;
Den would see some interesting mechanism,
swim back to talk to the captain about its function,
then jump in again.
We were both sore the next day
but it was Totally Worth It.

Ready to snorkel the frigid waters

View of the Sweepstakes shipwreck

3 verses of Muhlenberg County sung by Sue

At the All You Can Eat Fish and Chips restaurant,
piratey servers occasionally belted out parts of sea chanteys.
When the background music became "Muhlenberg County",
I enthusiastically sang along
(there weren't many customers)
and earned a high five
from a pirate
with a styrofoam parrot on his shoulder.
No alcohol was involved.

"Daddy, won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County,
down by the Green River where Paradise lay..."

2 sandhill cranes added to Denny's life list
and 2 forgotten compasses

When returning through customs,
we were asked
"Have you been to the doctor recently?"
"No sir."
"Are you SURE?"
"Yes sir."
"We have a gamma alert on a motorhome..."
We were pulled over
and inspected by three officers
looking for a source of radiation.
"Do you have a fish finder?
A compass?"
"No sir."
Turns out we had TWO compasses
in the jeep's console,
forgotten.
The officer called Washington
and removed us from the Watch List.
We would not be the source of a dirty bomb.
Our border patrol is impressive.

Sandhill cranes in the Dorcas Bay fen

Compasses, sources of infinitesimal radiation

1 night of Northern Lights
We were sitting at our campfire with neighbors
when I looked up
and recognized a streak of green smearing through the stars.
Our friends had never seen northern lights before
and we stood in awe until they faded.
What a gift!

...and 1 snakeskin under the front door upon arriving home.
Be careful what you wish for...

Our "welcome home" present has started our snakeskin collection

Zero regrets.

When speaking seagullese, "Awwwwk" can mean many things:
"Come here and I'll give you peanuts"
or "What happened to your leg?"
or, in this case, "Happy trails!"