It is the night before Christmas and it is quiet in the house. Just finished up a good meal of a new tortilla soup recipe and as I was the cook, everyone else cleaned up the dishes and kitchen. The shopping is done and most of the wrapping is done and everyone is settled into their various activities until we gather for Rudolph or is it Mr. Magoo's Christmas (real heavy stuff).

A sign of the kids getting older is that we'll go to church for the 11PM caroling and service rather than the 5:00 family service we've gone to for years and years. Christmas eve takes on a different feel. Sounds of carols in the other room a strumming of a guitar in another; the closing of a door to shield the eyes of another gift to be wrapped. The pellet stove busily pumps out heat that wafts around the corners and up the stairs.

It is a white Christmas, it's been white for weeks. Perhaps there will be a bit more and the fierce cold will make sure it stays. I am on day 2 of vacation and decelerating well. I was in the grocery store today and the bagger commented on the range of emotions they see, the register was acting up and he was thankful that I was in a cheerful state and not yelling at them, as I guess has been the case. The days around Christmas are either overload then wipe out. Fortunately for us it has been busy but resisting the movement to crazy. I guess a couple good runs in this week have helped as well.

I am blessed in many many ways by family and friends (both in person and those I have only met on-line) and by an the abundance of much.

Merry Christmas to all!!!

Check out this wonderful video

The look of "very cold"

Here in the hills there can be a very distinct look of "very cold", especially in the early morning. Without looking at the thermometer or stepping outside you can get a sense if it is really cold by the look of the clouds, the air, the trees. Unfortunately it doesn't translate well into pictures, at least with my point and shoot.

Out yesterday morning at 7 for a quick 4 mile run, the haze was over the ridgeline, looking hard and not really moving. So unlike the wafting mist in the summer or low clouds of the spring.....still as if frozen in place. It was 15 degrees out and while sunny, the rays didn't seem to do much.

The sky was a powder blue with a certain fuzziness to the clouds. The branches of the trees along the ridge and up the road seemed more vividly clear and distinct. It wasn't until I got up close that I could see the frozen water vapor that encased them with this ever so thin layer that is so unlike ice after a storm. Like an artist's pencil, each one was highlighted and edges sharpened, they seemed to jump out of the scenery.

The smoke coming out of the chimneys moved slowly and stiffly. Straight up in columns like contained in a frozen tube. Not many swirls.

The light snow covering seemed hard on the grass, as if would crunch if I stepped off the path.

The world seemed more contained, more condensed and with a clearness that was precise on that crisp December morn.

If there was questioned whether winter was here, even though the official date has not arrived, the wave of cold easily dispels that. Add to that this thin layer of snow that seems to be added to every night to accommodate what may have melted in the sunlight of the day. It is somewhat like a holding pattern......

though when I travel out of the hills and into the valley, and someone causes me to notice, these is no snow, there it is just cold. The cold that radiates from the walls of my brick office, that hovers on the inside of the big glass windows not sure what to do with itself. The bright sun outside and looks so warm, but then the trips down the unheated stairwells jolts you back into reality.

It seems like the time is not sure whether to speed up or slow down. The cold says slow down, get warm, the approaching the time between Christmas and New Years, says the same and but then it doesn't. The prep for Christmas and wind down of everything that is nearing an end or break, seems to say opposites: school finals, end of the calendar year rush, work projects that are launched to be picked up full swing in January and of course the Christmas rush and swarms.

I have only ventured to the mall once so far and larger stores a few more times, so my perspective on how crazy things really are, is not there. Though I sense it is much crazier than I think. But that is OK, because if I can keep it at bay I will.

I figured out what was happening with the fuel of the pellet stove, so it is firing away as full force, trying to push back the cold and I am no longer concerned that I have 3 tons of defective pellets to struggle with. There is a mouse(is there ever just one?) in the garage, (I say that quietly so that no alarm is raised) hiding amongst the pellets and hoping for scraps of bird seed. I'll decide what to do about that in a while. Living up against the woods it is inevitable and as long as they are outside, it is ok for now.

The Christmas tree is up, harvested from one our local tree farms on an excursion last weekend. The lights are on and soon will come the trimmings and the raising of the little town below. My eldest will be back from college soon and I will be on vacation after working a few days next week. Things are ok and that is fine with me.

Cleaning out the pellet stove today, I grabbed the vacuum to suck up some leftover ashes when I smelt something odd. Smoke was coming from the vacuum and on closer examination, the bag. A stray spark had hidden itself and was sucked in and enjoying the feast of the paper bag. Dumping it out in the snow, it refuses to go out (this thing is only 6 inches long) so I just leave it to do its thing as I go back to doing mine.

I have been fighting with the stove for weeks, it not adjusting well to the new stock of pellets and me continuing to adjust it and dump it out with success seeming to be farther and farther away. So this final event pretty much sums up the experience and for that much my week. Stove fighting pellets, pellets fighting stove, me fighting pellets and stove, staff fighting staff (figuratively) and eventually me......It went on and on.

So now, as I get ready to pack up to leave to chaperone a teen group sleepover ................................................

Sounds

I have read that people with limited vision can experience a greater sensitivity to the sounds around them. I remember that the theory behind it was that the brain and consciousness is focused on other senses when it isn't bombarded visually.

When I run at 5:30 in the morning it is usually dark. As I have written before, there are a few streets and most of them are on the dim side, compared with some residential streets lights I saw a few weekends back when we traveled to another state, that seem to turn night into day.

I have found that I hear sounds more distinctly at that time. Some of that may be the darkness that forces my other senses and because my safety can depend on that awareness; and some of it may be that it is just quieter at that time of day.

Some of the things I hear I don't really care about seeing, I just take it in and move on. I hear the movement of the rabbits in the brush, the trickling sound of water running in a small stream by the side of the road (hidden from sight in thick brush); the sound of the metal pieces on a flag pole gently chiming as they hit the metal pole in the breeze. Sometimes when it begins to snow I can hear the flakes hit the ground.

Running through town that early, there are the sounds and smells of the city that seem out of place in this little town. The sound of the trash truck several blocks away and the sound and whiff of diesel of the delivery trucks at the back of the small shops and cafes brings me back to being in London 20+ years ago and hearing these sound in the early mornings outside the windows. A fond memory whenever it is triggered.

This morning while it was in the 20s there was the sound of a stiff frozen leaf clinging to a branch and clicking in the wind; the different sound of my sneakers on the cold pavement and the crusty pieces of ground pushed up by the frost but not cold enough to freeze. My shoes made an unusual slapping noise as they hit the pavement and my feet could feel that there wasn't the usual give in the material. All very subtle sounds or changes in what is the usual.

I know the sound of running on snow is coming....but that can wait a while while I am still acclimating to the changes from just the cold.

The wind was fierce and rain even fiercer........that was the way it was yesterday. The water pelting against the windows like the spray from the ocean. Umbrellas were useless except for that fleeting moment until the wind kicked up and turned it inside out. Dashing to the car, being soaked takes on a new meaning as the drops cascade into my lap and the handful of napkins takes care of only the top layer of water.

How many times did I chase the lid off the trash can, wishing the trash guys wouldn't be late. First it blows up the street, then repositioning it, it blows down the street. Then it's the recycling bids filled to the rim with light plastic. Not anymore, its all over the yard. The plastic fruit container flies like a Frisbee. At least it wasn't paper week, that would really be a mess.

The wind howls, the temperature drops and then by morning it is all done and gone. A little glaze from the rain but even the wet on the street didn't have a chance against the wind and mostly it is dry.

Tree branches on the roof and in the Christmas lights, but all is well all is calm and I thank my luck stars it wasn't all snow.

The morning is cold, the dawn with its reddish casts......night yielding to day. By now the sky is bright though the clouds mask the sun. A day that seems so much like the look and feel of so many Thanksgiving days gone by.

I am thankful for many many things but I am especially thankful for awareness.

Happy Thanksgiving to all

I am searching through a new awareness and am curious where it will bring me. Some of the time that I am trying to carve is in exploring art. In this form it is more random. Loosing myself in the process and working with the paper and fabric and trying not to think too much about what I am creating as much as letting it create itself.

Sometimes its ok to say no

What will they all think if I say I don't want to do it? Am I letting them down? Can someone else do it as good as I did? If I say no this time then no one will ask again and I miss it? I have put so much time in effort in organizing this and getting it going and now I am going to drop back?

Sound familiar?

I have already written about how I can sometimes get over committed then get tired, irritable (at myself) , resentful .......all sorts of bad shit.

Well I am getting more comfortable with saying no.

I am learning that, sometimes when I say no because I have a lot going on or want a break , that the response I get is, " I completely understand, you have done much and do much in other areas. No problem. Someone else will have to step up"

Am I letting them down? Usually not, because I am still willing to help out in the crunch and I am not saying no to everything. Just don't take me for granted.

Can someone else do it as good as I did? Maybe, maybe not. I am someone who can pull something together quickly and am a good negotiator with people and maybe it won't be done the same way. Maybe it will be done better and quite honestly maybe no one will notice the difference.

If I say no this time then no one will ask again and I miss it? True, but nothing is forever and if I want to get in the throw of things I could probably work my way back in.

I have put so much time in effort in organizing this and getting it going and now I am going to drop back?

My controlling instinct at work here. You can't complain about being tired and fried and over committed yet not turn something over after your organized it. Much better to step back on a high note.

The past few weeks I have backed away from some time consuming commitments. Not completely in some cases but handed off the mantle of leading. While those pang of guilt were there, I am ok with it and have worked my way down my list of questions above. I have also made room to do some art and perhaps add something totally different that feeds the soul and renews.

The sleeping giant

I can see how native Americans and many people who live off the land, can feel a presence, a personality.

The woods and forests have a feel about them but to me it is more collective of all that lives there. You are in it and you don't really get a sense of it all. When you are at the ocean or in the mountains or where there are vast fields, there are times when the light and the sounds are right for that presence to reveal itself.

I went for a late afternoon run yesterday. Able to get home a little early, the sun was quickly setting but I'd been on tight schedules and couped up in offices for days and had a strong motivation to get out.

Being close to dark, the light seemed to be fading as I dressed in the layers but there was still some light around the horizons in several directions. Choosing a 3 mile loop that passes many fields and runs parallel to the ridge line that is often my morning route

It has only a few street lights and there were a few cars at that time and it was still that dark just before night. As I reached the ridge line, the light was behind the hills and the shadows were softened the curves of the terrain.

The individual trees were no longer visible and the curves, highlighted by the backlight looked like a giant reclining for the night. The air was quiet and the wind still and the moon not yet up and I could sense his gentle breaths. My imagination could see this giant sitting up and turning to the side to see me, but instead he lay still. I let those thoughts go, not wanting to scare the crap out of me when I still had a few miles to go.

The image didn't stay long, about five minutes or so to cover the half mile stretch, and then I was into the trees. When I returned on the backloop the lighting was no longer the same and it just looked dark. The giant had either fallen asleep or left for something to eat.

I ran the same route this morning and the feel was not there. The trees and fields were bright and the sounds so very different.

The giant was disguised in the trees that went on for miles and miles only to return again when the light and sounds are just right.

Sometimes life can be a blur as it is in this picture. But the sight of a snow covering on November 1st as I am traversing the hills to work warranted a picture, even if it was taken at 70mph.

If there was ever a question of whether it is really fall, then the repeated nights below freezing and this snow covering end all doubt.

I have just started raking the leaves as most of them seem to be down. But with over an acre it takes a while to do this by hand and many trips with the tarp into the woods. I do feel good repositioning the from the yard to the woods. It seems much more sense than the dozens of bags that friends need to fill up and have them carted away.

I only hope that the snow stays away until I can finish.

Yesterday morning, it's 5:30AM and totally dark and raining. I am in the mood somewhat for a run as it has been several days but it is dark and raining. I have run a little in the rain but usually its when I am just about home. Though I know people who think it is great.

Fortunately I just upgraded my running shoes as when I counted up the miles on my log I'd run well over 600 miles on this pair and even though they looked great there has to be some wear in the support. But I kept them for days like this.

Stepping outside its wonderfully warm (70s) and the rain was a mist, so I take a leap and take off. It was harder with the darkness and the wet leaves and avoiding the streams of water and focusing on the step. As I went along the rain also picked up so as I got into town (the 2 mile mark) it was mild but steady. As I headed home it picked up heavier so that the value of my shirt was only to wipe the rain out of my eyes and wrap around the phone to keep dry.

The feeling was great. Like running through a warm shower and the feeling of sweating in the rain an interesting one. I am hooked.

It's been a full moon the past week. Big and bright and it rises over the ridge to the east and gradually settles into and crosses the sky in the night. Often it has set by the time I get up, leaving the predawn sky bright with stars.

It is also getting cold. The pellet stove on just about every night now and I have started my seasonal ritual of hoisting a 40 bag and hauling it into the house before picking up my book and usually nodding out. Fortunately I get a couple of hours of audio reading during my daily commute to keep the book list under control, but the act of picking up a book at 9:30 having been up a close to 5 in the morning usually isn't a good combination for anything other than a nod-off.

I am in the process of downloading a book "13 things (in science) that don't make sense" and this along with a half a dozen of so podcasts will keep me plugged in to the reading world, at least audio wise, for the next week.

I have been somewhat delinquent in the blog, email social media area. Electronic media can be great, but at least for me, it can be too much at times and while the information comes in, I am sometimes so bombarded that I can't get it out. That is especially true when work issues weigh and even lunch and early morning is consumed by issues and thoughts. Of course I don't do my self any favors by having 6 email accounts and facebook and this blog. All of which I can easily juggle at certain times. I have been festering over a career decision the past couple weeks. At first I wrote the word struggle, but then determined that the activity was not active enough to be considered that. But it weighs and it will be a matter of a decision or a decision by means of inaction, which seems to be the direction it is going.

I am also juggling the question of "volunteer involvement" which I know I am not alone. Sometimes it seems that so many want just a piece of you that it can consume the pieces that are left. Then I feel resentful and even more buried.

So I have been more an more active about saying "no" or defining very clearly how much I can reasonably do and then I have to work on the internal guilt.

Well in the theme of dash and run, I hit the post button and clamor to get dressed and dash for another day.

my morning meditation

It has become a pattern that my time for running is between 5:40AM and 6:20AM usually 4-5 times a week. This gives me almost enough time to somewhat wake up,sipping coffee in the dark gazing out the window at the black sky and brilliant stars. As I start to stretch my legs I work to convince myself to go the next step of getting on the gear and head out.

It is amazing how much of this is done in darkness permeated by only LED lights of the couple of clocks in the kitchen and the very limited minimal light from outside. If I need to I'll open the refrigerator door to get enough light to find something in the room, but that's about it. I have always had good night vision, and this make the transition less jarring.


Out in the driveway and up our street the only light is the one streetlight a down a few houses away so occasionally I do need to click on the cell phone to shoot out a slight beam as a guide and cut the shadows that are in front of me. I assume that the noises I make scares away any animals in the vicinity and I use to be more concerned than I am now.

What always strikes me is the quiet and the total darkness of the sky (at least this week). Even when the moon is out (unless it is full) it may provide some light but doesn't block the darkness and the stars above. A few lights are on in the houses as I pass, the early risers in the neighborhood.

Leaving my street and down the big hill, the canopy of trees makes it darker, so that I move to the middle. The streetlights are dim and don't seem to pierce the darkness of the street. My red flashers attached to my hips reflect off the edges of the road. There is so little traffic that running in the road is preferable with its level surface and lack of obstacles. Rounding the corner at the bottom I start the long upward grade.

Each morning I pass a guy standing in his driveway waiting for a ride to work. I am in the light of the dim street light and he in the shadows under the trees. I sometimes see the glow of his cigarette a short distance before and as I pass we exchange warm greetings of the morning. I would never recognize him in the daylight nor do I expect he would recognize me, but here we are two souls in the dark early morning. Occasionally a car will come a the light is so blinding that I have to drop to a walk to return to the side walk, then back in the road as they pass but mostly it is just me.

At the top of this half mile hill I am walking for a stretch as I approach the highway. Rarely having to wait before dashing across and I am again in the dimly lit darkness on the road into town. A few more houses with light on and those are usually bathrooms and the occasional blue gray glow of a television inside. Occasionally the newspaper deliverer is on his his route, weaving from side to side and cutting in and out of side streets. Annoying because, while I am sure he sees me, his movements are unpredictable and in the dark that does not bring comfort.

Coming up the final grade into town and crossing the brick pavers, it is so absent of tourists. The stores are dark, the offices still and the antique reproduction street lights give off more than enough light. What will be teeming with life in an hour or so is pretty dead and as I round the block past the town hall and library, under more trees I approach my half way point. At 6AM the chimes on the white church on the hill chime and there is someone starting to open the small market. I see them making coffee and bringing in the stacks of newspapers and if they are out side I always say hi. The door to the bagel shop is open and smell of dough waft in the air.

Down "restaurant row" the table and chairs on the decks sit idle and empty, though one of the is always lit up brightly and i can sometimes see the morning cleaning crew repairing the wear of the night before.

Then heading back, the uphill grade gets reversed and it is a quicker return. The light is starting to change over the trees and the ridge lines. Still not much activity and life but there soon will be. The man waiting for his ride is always gone when I return as I pass his spot and make the turn up the final steep hill, hoping and pushing to make it as close to the top before walking to my street and a cool-down walk home.

It is still dark and quiet, occassionally a neighbor is out walking the dog or walking the hill. They are starting as I am finishing.

I come back inside and keep the lights off, stretching and cooling down it keep the calm of the early day.

Over these years I have learned to be much better about speaking my mind to the wrong people and about putting both feet in the mouth at once. Can't say it has always been that way and I have sometimes hard to learn a hard lesson about confidences and restraint in acting out of anger. Like toothpaste out of the tube, its near impossible to get back in.

But before you go thinking I have done something, I haven't. My reflections are of a period quite a while ago and my personal journey toward diplomacy.

I had a birthday last week. Not uncommon, we all seem to have one if we are lucky enough to be alive. I often don't do well with birthdays, they remind me of the past, about time and opportunities that have passed, they remind me of people no longer here and people no longer in my life. I also just don't feel comfortable with the fuss, though it is not that I dislike it. It fact, to the probable surprise of most I actually like it. (Go figure) I can be a rather unpleasant person (though not overtly) in my wallowing reflections and I am unfortunately one of those people who is useless when it comes to thinking up ideas for gifts. I feel rather blessed that I do not want for much and that my needs are relatively modest. The things that I think I want can't be packaged.

My best birthdays are usually when I am distracted doing something for someone else or involved in a family activity.



This past birthday was not without its reflections and I am still in that valley (mostly now because of thoughts related to work and career), but the actual day was pretty good.

Starting off with a good 4 mile run, something I couldn't do 10 years ago and then function for the rest of the day; then volunteering at a church cleaning / maintenance day. Hauling trash and changing ceiling tiles and cleaning light fixtures pumps the blood through that upper body movement and the accomplishment can be seen immediately. Then off to half time show to watch my youngest and her band mates march and play followed by dinner out with most of the family (sans the one who is away at college, :-( , though I got to talk with him that night :-) and of course cake and presents.

By mid day my mood was up quite a bit and my reflections were much more of being grateful what what I had and the experiences and people that enabled me to do what I did that day.


"Perhaps he knew , as I did not, that the Earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road....." A good quote. Perhaps I shall write about it someday.

Fall is here, the leaves are changing color.

While colorful, it is so dry that the leaves turn yellow then brown and drop off. The grasses are turning red in the fields.

It is always pleasant to have warm and sunny days, except when the absence of any significance rain dries things out.

I recall thinking when the most recent hurricane. whats its name, was coming up the coast that we would get a good soaking and the trees would receive one of those natural prunings that happens whenever then is a strong prolonged wind. But in the end all we got was a little extra windiness.



The levels in the local lakes are low and fortunately tourist season is over so the heavy demand for water is gone for a while. This morning it is darker than usual, the clouds heavier and predictions of rain the next few days.

That should quench the thirst a little for the plants but as the patterns repeat themselves, the rain and winds will knock down many of the weaker brown leaves. The pattern of fall returns.


This past weekend was the Apple Squeeze in town. A big event that draws out many locals who have yielded the town to tourists over the summer. In the neighboring town of Lee it was Founders Day that ends with a Latino Festival. I don't think I have ever been to Founders Day but the Latino Fesitival is always a great opportunity to sample some good food from Central and South America.

I took a 6 1/2 mile run on Saturday through a state forest nearby. The road is goes from paved to packed dirt to rocks and pebbles and is alot of up and down as it follows the river below the ridge line. I took a few pictures with my phone but trying to upload them first to facebook and then to the blog is often a challenge and so far I haven't been successful with this batch. The fungus on the dead trees were this floresent yellow and very cool.

It was great to be out but I realized that many people would be spooked to be in what seems like such a desolate area, though there was an occassional car parked near an outlet to the river. Except for the random voice on the river, it was totally quiet and I was very concious of what was around me. One of those times when your imagination can get a hold of you and one of the reasons I alway run with a charged cell phone.

Came into work today and a great big tree outside my office is lying on the ground cut into chunks. I love trees and this one gave great shade and lots of bird and squirrel activity but looking at it on its side I can see that it was mostly hollow, but still I will miss it.

The day just didn't seem right after that.

Supermarket voices

I started writing this on a 2'' by 4'' Ipod screen, which can be tough because the miniature keyboard in much smaller than my finger and this screen is full size when I work on the desktop. But it has the distinct advantage that I can be lying on the couch with my feet up and still key in the text as long as I am within range of the wireless. Uploading photos is tough so I will have to wait until I am back on the desktop......which happens to be now only a week or so later.

The photo here has nothing really to do with what I thought I'd write about but I am sure I can make a connection. Its the latest pickings from our miniature garden. But it is food and I was struck by something the last couple of times I was at Stop & Shop and I wanted a picture. Now I should say I have nothing against Stop & Shop, though I prefer to smaller stores if I can. Not real small but slightly smaller. They are just easier to maneuver around and get in and get out. But again I digress off the subject. The smaller stores actually have people to scan your food even if they don't bag it.


What I noticed the last few times at Stop & Shop was that the voice had changed on the auto check-out. I usually try to sneak up on it and scan in my card before the sensor notices I am there and the voice asked me and thanks me for my card at the same time, almost jumbling the words. Just the same as when you quickly scan things in and it can't keep up. Hey, so I get small pleasures out of confusing machines.

What struck me this time was that the voice was no longer the slow paced monotone using longer vowels, it was quick, concise and a little clip and almost fast enough to keep up. The slow voice had been fired.

Perhaps the slow voice was causing people to scan slower and they focus group tested that they could get us to do what used to be "their job" of scanning, even quicker and move the line along.

It struck me as how very different it sounded and though I use to make fun of it, I missed the voice that was gone.

So are they going to speed up the conveyor belt to get things to pile up quicker at the end and get us moving even quicker? Perhaps the voice could be programed to encourage us to pack things quicker and move on......not.

The other voice is the one that pages people for phone calls or announces that deli orders are ready for pickup. I always thought I was the only person who did a mock salute whenever General Merchandise was paged. That is until someone I work with joked about doing the same thing, first with his kids and now as just a joke. I was amazed.

I didn't ask him if he also sang along with or danced with the music or mocked some of the other pages. I didn't want to risk coming off as too strange, though I have written here about another friend who also does just that and it gives me hope that there really people out there who find strange humor at the supermarket.

I have been pushing around several topics for a post but none seem to be making it past the draft stage. Coming back from vacation is always a challenge and it comes with the change in the seasons as well.

Labor Day has landed and so has the clear transition to fall. The past few weeks the light has been looking different, more defused, more yellow against the green. The chill of fall is also in the air with it dropping to 40 last night and being in the 50s.




The 4 tons of wood pellets for the season have arrived and a couple of tons are loaded into the garage to be closer for my dreaded 11PM trips to refill the stove for the night. I inevitably get dosy and perhaps fall asleep before remembering to stock up the stove so the short trip to the pellet stacks and hoisting the 40 pound bag into the house becomes an annoyance out of proportion to reality.

With the remaining 2 tons waiting outside until sometime in January when they will take their place on the inside pile.




I am killing time this morning. With a house full of teenage girls for a birthday sleepover, no one is stirring and the challenge is to maneuver around without making noise, and I've been awake for a few hours. They went to sleep who knows when. We discovered ground hornets in the front yard yesterday when my daughter was moving the lawn in preparation for games later on. A hole the size of a golf ball, a tunnel to the nest below. Now I don't really mind bugs, except carpenter ants and mosquitoes that is, and don't like using heavy doses of insecticide. So how do I get these things to relocate their nest so that we don't get stung just going about our business. Just move the hole into the garden where its is out of the way, its only 3 feet away and I am sure a tunnel could be dug quite nicely.


So at first I try water to flush them out, then a little soap along with it. Seemed to discourage them but this morning the swarm is bigger than ever and I look at the more real options of tossing gravel in the hole and filling it so that another hole is the only option. So that is what I've done so far and will see if that does it or just pisses them off even more to the point where they are swarming the yard. The gravel seems to be working a bit, though they are quite annoyed.

I'll just leave them to themselves for now and find some other chore to distract me.

It seems to me that our annual family vacation to Cape Cod gets shorter and shorter as the years go by. We look forward to it all for a year and puff it is gone. They definitely are shorter than the week+ that we would spend when the kids were little. Now it is 3-4 days squeezed in between the end of the kids summer jobs and school and that includes the 4-5 hours of travel which really chops it down to just 2 days there.


And this year it rained........and rained..........and rained. From the point that we left the garage here to the the time we crossed the bridge off the cape, it rained. It slowed some so that we could walk a bit on the beach and could catch a quick picnic with sandwiches from our favorite deli, but the rest was pretty much a wash out

Puddles and rain drops seem to be the norm and on a shopping trip to Christmas Tree shops I replaced all the umbrellas with new one, so that we could stay moderately dry.


But it was, as usual, fun to be away with the family. From "singing in the rain" as we trotted down the lanes in Provincetown twirling our umbrellas or joining in on a chorus of, "the sun will come out tomorrow" with strangers in the streets and word games while waiting, board games in the evening and just ordinary fun. That is what family is about.

We had the chance to connect with new friends and long time friends but not enough to connect with others, and we caught a mid day movie. For me there was little opportunity for a short run in the rain along a flat trail, as the early riser in the pack. What a change to not deal with hills.

Not much time at the beach other than a couple of short walks. The chance to take some pictures including this family photo. ;-)


I still have some more vacation time at home, for starting the fall chores and just chillin' a bit and more family adventures in between getting ready for school next week.

Amazing what a 9 mile run will do for you. I feel great, my head is clearer and my anger abated. Endorphins are wonderful. If it weren't for the potential injury of overuse, I could easily see me doing this every day just for the high.

We all have varying degrees of stress that we function under (or not) and I am by no means exempt. There is work stress and there is home stress and even with these distinctions, there is a further one of crisis versus non crisis. How I handle it has changed greatly over the years and for the past few years running has been a healthy way for me to manage this. It clears my head somewhat, burns off some of the built up adrenalin and at least adds some endorphins to the mix. And I am training myself to stay away from food, aka feeding the stress. Who says you can't teach an old dog.

In the work environment I am a relatively cool (in the sense of moderating, calm, measured). I am one of those people who has a long fuse and can sit with a person or people and sort out muck and negotiate through disharmony. But then there are times that it just comes at me and I find myself at a loss and it eats at me emotionally and physically.

Yesterday was such an event. Of course, I can't write specifics, but let me leave it at that is about managing people and their response to reflective, balanced, honest, objective assessment of behavior. A response that is a torrent of distortion, accusation, deflection and being do surgical in presenting situations, that truth can be found, where in the entirety there is none. It is rare that such a response brings me to the point of literally shaking with rage (and it had been a few hours since I'd had caffeine) and knowing professionally that a response from me (especially from a place of rage) would be counterproductive. Even after a mile power walk and handing this off to a coworker to validate by response, the shaking was gone but the anger is still there.......even the next morning.

I like managing people, most of the time. I have the temperament for it, I have been told by people that I am excellent at helping them through tough patches and very supportive and then periodically you run up against someone with whom no matter what you do it is not enough and it is not the right thing. They want you to fix their problem not help them fix it (as they are clueless as to how to) and if you don't know how to fix it, you are at fault. In this situation, I will acknowledge receipt and nothing more.

It is these experiences that make me want to throw my hands up and walk away, though practically that is not possible. Good thing it is vacation and I see a 5 mile run in my future this morning.

Reflections,,,,after a dunking

A couple of free hours this morning and the inspiration to take out the kayak. It has been so hectic that this is the first time this year, so the bugs and cobwebs needed to be vacated. Placing it in the water I felt so out of practice and as I put one foot in and got ready to push off, just as I had done dozens of times before, the boat tipped and in I went. Drenched and looking at 4+ inches of sluggy water in the kayak and standing in a foot of silt. Most everything was tied down so nothing was lost and fortunate my camera and phone were in plastic bags.

In the 3 years I have had the kayak and launched it more time than I can count, this is the first time I had ever gotten wet, and of course their were 2 people standing by offering help and suggesting how to I might successfully get in. How embarrassing.

So after draining the water out the plug and sopping most of the rest with my now soggy towels, I head down river. It was then also that I remembered that that I should have taken a picture of the mess, but back then I wasn't thinking that way.

As I was paddling, I kept noticing how much more I was seeing looking across the water, rather than up on the shore.


The reflections in the water were vivid and the picture above perfectly joined with the one below. The water was a mirror.


The top and the bottom became one picture.





It was so quiet and the water so smooth that I found I could get up closer to animals than usual. I was about 10 feet away from this heron as he decided I had come close enough.





The turtle sunning out on the rock let me pass before diving in. He was back on the rock when I came back, watching me with caution but knowing he could dive in quicker than I could get to him.


The banks were lines with yellow daisies and purple millfoil.





When the air was perfectly still there was not a ripple.


Monet is one of my favorite artists and this shot and the ripples of the image seemed to have a similar feeling, even if it is upside down.

Someone I know who is several years younger than me was just diagnosed with Lymphocytic Leukemia; a friend who thought cancer was completely in gone years ago finds a lump; a coworker, also younger than me, is a candidate for a pacemaker; a close family member is looking at potential foot surgery; 120 people at the local hospital just lost their jobs, my daughter come back from a trip a speaks of witnessing poverty in the midst of vast wealth and of how some of her friend here can't grasp of life changing such witnessing is.

I just finished a 4 mile run, am getting ready for an afternoon of biking with my son and an evening at Tanglewood.

There is so much that I can't control and can't change and in comparison with what others face, my issues and problems seem pretty insignificant. I can be mindful and appreciate the gifts I have and recognize them as gifts.

"Isn't it fun that the cars stop when you are in the cross walk?"

Coming out of the library in the center of our little town, I overheard a mom saying to her son, as the family walked down the sidewalk, "Isn't it fun that the cars stop when you are in the cross walk?"

It made me smile as I too walked down to Main Street and as I approached the road and stepped into the crosswalk, the cars on both sides stopped. I did my half wave of acknowledgment and proceeded.

I think I was at first caught by the word "fun" in this comment then by the reality of the observation. We aren't a theme park with artificial behavior and sets though this town is more touristy than many due to its many cultural attractions. I often wonder what these tourists think we are as "locals". We are for the most part just like them I came from the library picking up a couple of books and a new book on CD for my commute. I was doing routine errands.

The second part of my thoughts was this person's actual observation. It is state law that cars stop for pedestrians in a crosswalk and the local cops do at times enforce it as do the citizens. Out of state cars that are oblivious, even thought there is a sandwich board sign at the crosswalk saying to stop, will get a comment or shout. It also is just a courtesy. something we practice and something we expect from visitors.

My daughter just came back from a week in Pennsylvania with a youth group and in the city, the chaperones reminded them that the rules aren't the same and cars don''t necessarily stop for anyone.

The flip side are tourists who think this is a theme park and will just walk right out into the street also oblivious that this is a thoroughfare or people who will walk down the middle of some of the streets where shops are. It's a small town with perhaps a slower pace but really, you can't be stupid. Though as I drive through downtown, it is now intuitive and what we teach out teenage drives, to watch the road but also the walkers approaching the road.

So, I am glad if that family is having fun here. Just be safe, be courteous and if you are eating at some of the local restaurants, leave good tips for my kids.

I was blog wandering a little while ago and came back to a blog I hadn't visited in quite a while and the writer's self discussion was about the expression or lack of expression of creative talent.

This is one of those one sided discussions I have had many times with myself, so I can appreciate it.

If you know people who have a very clear creative identity or focus it can be intimidating to those of us who dabble or lack the confidence and time to explore. I happen to know several people who have such talent and it makes me less likely to be "out there" exploring my artsy side or at least publicizing it. It is not anything that they do, its all about me "not measuring up".

I think I am like many who wish they could find the vehicle that appeals to the masses and provides some positive reinforcement to continue. Do we all wish we could be a Monet'?

It is much easier for someone who is called an artist to be one than it is someone who is viewed as not, to be one.

This blog serves somewhat of an outlet for my creative side. The pictures, the words, the layout. It is somewhat anonymous to all but a handful of people who have "found" me. It speaks to a very different "me" than the person many people know me in a very calm, measured , analytical work role, though as Debbie pointed out a while ago this blog does draw on the serious side of me.

Though I carry a clown nose around in my day bag (yes I really do have a red nose in my bag) and am know by those close to me to have an unpredictable zany side, that doesn't often come across through artful expression. Why is that?

I can be very creative in my professional work,and though it can consume enormous amounts of time, it is often viewed with connectedness to the main part of my job, though it really isn't and I again am confined back in my "box".

People often see the person in the role they are familiar with , who may be creative and assume it must be connected to his job, and not that this is a very creative individual both inside and outside of the "job box".

When we had someone over for dinner a while back, my wife happened to use some pottery pieces I made and mentioned that I had. There was amazement, as I didn't seem the type though I'd done it for several years. I also draw and am a creative cook both of which also seem to be out of character

So like this fellow blogger, I continue not only to find ways to be creative but how to be out there and be creative and be invited to do things requiring creativity and not just viewed from the confines of this box.

Ice Glen

Last fall, October 16th to be precise, I posted some pictures of a bridge over the river and trail I found at the end of a dead end road. Across the bridge were some railroad tracks and across that some trails led into the woods.

Well a week or so ago I learned the rest of the story.

Looking for a place for a family outing, my wife suggested a hike in a spot she had found about named ice glen. It was in the 90s so any place with the name "ice" had to be appealing. It was outside of Stockbridge down a side road with a bridge leading to the trail. At first I couldn't figure out where it was until we started talking directions I discovered that it was the trail on the other side of the tracks.


Waling up a steady incline into the wood it just seemed to be getting warmer, until the shade made it darker and the



until the rock walls appeared and the trail dropped into a narrow ravine. The walls of stone were actually huge rocks piled that created deep caves in the walls, vents into the deeper earth.
Passing each cave the temperature dropped and a cool moist air seemed to pour out. The moisture feeding the green foliage and cool air feeling like an air conditioner.


Some of the steep walls were covered in moss and ferns and small plants clung to the sides well anchored almost like a terrarium .


The trail moved up and down through the rocks with the caves at the base somewhat ominous in what nocturnal wild life might be within. The base seemed almost like a stream bed, which in the spring I expect it is. Draining into the underground caves and cascading down to the river we crossed over.

The writeup said that snow could sometimes be found into the summer. I can imagine that, though the steady heat of the past few weeks eliminated that chance.

An amazing sight and experience, so removed and quiet and cool yet so close to the "beaten path" .

One never knows what is at the end of a trail.

The forth of July is often the official start of the tourist season here. In addition to it being a long holiday weekend this year, it is also referred by many locals as "James Taylor weekend" .

Tanglewood (summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra ) is the behemoth of tourists draws here, so until it opens the tourist business is on the sluggish side. Having kids that now work in local restaurants, we have become attuned to things like this. There are many theater and other cultural venues in the immediate area but none are a large or draw the crowds like Tanglewood.

While the BSO season officially starts next week, one of the big Tanglewood events in the popular music series is James Taylor and this year with Carole King. The sold out concerts bring many thousands of out-of towners. In a past year, Taylor teamed with John Williams and the BSO for movie night and the crowds were so large that highways and local roads were jammed and the symphony itself had difficulty getting there. Subsequently a local ordinance was passed requiring a cap of ticket sales at I believe 18,000 and when that is reached, it must be marketed as sold out and signs are on the highways. This year it is 2 concerts so the crowds will be spread out but still the max is reached and one of the concerts is a charity event with the proceeds going back to the BSO.

So as drove through town this morning to drop off one kid for breakfast waitstaff job the increase in numbers and runners on the streets was noticeable. If you were from the city you'd think nothing of it, but this is a small town and even a slight increase in people is noticable.

Tomorrow is my 3rd 5k race. It is part of the beginning of the 4th of July Parade in Pittsfield, one of the largest in the country complete with floats and big balloons. It is interesting being in this race as there are already hundreds lining the parade route clapping as a thousand runners come along.

My attitude has really changed since my first race. Then I wanted to make sure I didn't come in
dead last. Now I am pretty confident about the distance and its more about seeing if I can trim some time off of last year's time. I have more experience and training though I also have one more year on me. It will be fun and I often see all sorts of people either in the race or on the side that I never expect to see.

Happy 4th of July all.

Thanks, all is well. I even discovered my pipe leak and have so far fixed it without a plumber, without any holes in the walls and with a single screw. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed that this does it long term.

I will tell some of the story if I can figure out how to tell it in less than a full page. I very short, I am aware of others who are in situations of bad health, injury, unemployment, turmoil and in more than a few situations can think of how I an my family might be very different had an occurrence in my past taken a very slightly different turn and the turns were a matter of happening when and how they did rather than choices made.

It not only makes me grateful for the turn that my situation took and then also how I took it from there, but also open to repaying and feeding the good karma and energy in the world that enabled this.

There but for the grace of God and the fate of occurrences, is me.

It may be good, may be bad, it may be life changing........ We may realize based on another's experience that started similar to ours but proceeded very differently, that we really "dodged a bullet".

I know that at least in most of these "life changing experiences" that I have come through with a different awareness, a better appreciation for what other's might be going through, a broader depth of knowledge and strength. And also out of those has come a need to pass this on where I can.

It feels like summer. Cold weather seems so far away yet there is still a bag of pellets near the store just in case. The bees are out buzzing among the flowers making a noise that can be hear from a distance. Good to see them and hear them around.

I seem to be running a streak of things breaking and rebreaking. The post about the leak was a new break but hitting on the list it takes on more significance and AGGGG factor. The struts on the old car replaced 6 months ago at an obscene amount, one side breaks again a month or so later and needs to be replaced and a couple of weeks ago the other side starts to make noises again and I have to make time to take the car in and get that fixed. Then the self propel on the lawn mower breaks, get fixed and return and after one mow breaks again. Send it back and yesterday while calling to find out when its coming back as the lawn is growing quick, I have the discussion of "well you know these things are built that strongly and can't always be fixed............." Why didn't they tell me before putting in a new blade and doing a full tune up". I'll continue that discussion tomorrow when the mechanic is in.

So I am thinking that I need to rid the place of bad spirits, if that is what is going on. Do a few chants and smoke the buggers out and perhaps I'll get a few more ants in the process. In the mean time I'll enjoy the rain and be thankful that it is really it that is preventing the lawn from being mowed.

The joys of home ownership.......I jest.

I went looking to find the source of the ant...because there have been a few more lately than should be given the amount of ant spray and powder around and in the process discover a leak. because we live surrounded by woods, carpenter ants abound and must be kept out less the devour the place. I say this by experience having had to replace back section of a wall that had been eaten completely from stud to plywood and even into the cedar clapboards. They are drawn by water and love to dig into wet or dame wood.

So good you might think as I have possibly discovered a problem, but not the source. Broken dishwasher perhaps. Whew, not that. Sink, not that. What else could be on this line, crap..an upstairs bathroom. The leak is not a feed pipe but a drain pipe, which make absolutely no sense unless it somehow in leaking from an elbow. The last thing I want to do is call a plumber to do the investigative work. I work for free, they certainly don't and are tough to get.

For the better park of this holiday afternoon I have been snaking pipes, cutting sections out of drywall under the sink, being the investigator trying different things and ruling out the possibilities. Water flows, so it isn't clogged and backing up. It drips 3 feet across from the original drop of the pipe in the wall which means it should be turning in the ceiling and then turning again to go down the outside wall as the drip is happening on the outside wall, which means that the leak in happening at least 6 feet into the line after it has turned 3 times.

Now I am stumped and it is getting late. Time to clean up and take my second shower fro the day.......drain grunge is smelly and gets all over. Perhaps a gin and tonic will help me thing of the next option or forget it for the day.

Happy Memorial Day! Thank you to all for whom this day is marked for your commitment and for the gift you have bestowed on this nation.

The signs of early summer. The mists gathering over the river and drifting up to the top of the mountain, meeting the clouds above. The sunrise painting the picture with streaks of orange and blue.

A storm moving in over the lake. The wind blowing through the hills making the sound of the waves on the shore of the ocean. It feels so much like summer though it is definitely still spring. Frost warnings last week and then up to the 90s.



So that was the weather report....... How often when we aren't sure how to start a conversation, we talk about the weather. It's common to us all, non controversial and if you live in a climate such as I do, it is always changing and sometimes less predictable from one town to the next.

Its been a busy time but not. The family is back together for the summer and I find much inner joy and comfort in that. While my son was away at college there was this solar powered light that I had placed far back in the yard next to the fire pit that he often used in the evening alone or with friends. I had no reason to place it there last year other than being curious about how it worked and whether it would work. Though very small and dim, I could see this light in the distance from my bedroom as I went to bed and if I woke in the night. The light in the distance became "him" far away, yet close and I felt comforted seeing glimpses of it, a connection that kept him close in my heart.

Interesting, that since he has been back the light doesn't seem to be working any more. Perhaps the bulb is burned out or its that the light is now on inside.

When it gets very busy and somewhat crazy and I feel like there are so many issues and needs and demands and when I feel stuck and my mind feels like it is on overload and ready to explode, it is the simple things I gravitate to, such as that light in the distance. Though symbolic, it is about what is important and about who is important. So though the car may not be able to be replaced as soon as I might like or some demands and wants of others not be able to be met and yeah I will feel guilty if I feel I have let someone down (though probably not really to anyone but me) and some things may settle out fine as they often do; it is things like the light in the far back of the yard that reminds me of what is really and truly important and keep me grounded.

Weather wise this week it has been one of extremes. Starting the week off with this stuff coming down and covering the ground. It kept on coming after I left for work and while it went on for several hours more it just wasn't cold enough for it to stay around, unlike parts of Vermont that got a foot of snow.



Chilly was the key word for much of the week, frost and cold enough that the pellet stove was going regularly.

Then we hit today and it 85 and gorgeously sunny. I went out for an 8 mile run this morning and left the camera behind. I only felt like doing a short distance until I got to the stop sign near my house and instead of going straight (which is my 3 mile loop) I had an impulse to go left down the hill. At the bottom of this long hill I normally would have taken a right (which makes another 4 mile loop home. But instead, on impulse I headed straight and across a footbridge and figured I'd run around the pond at the base of October Mountain State forest. But then I came to a road that I'd passed x-c skiing several times and decided to take that turn. It went up into the forest (the road is paved so its not totally uncivilized), past fields and lakes I'd never seen before, past houses I never knew were there, past a big sand pit that I'd only seen from the distance and from the other side. The road went up and up and around 'til it came to a picnic area and the ranger office in the other entrance to the park.

The sign on the office board said 2.5 miles to the pond where I been so that was the decision time. I was feeling good but 2.5 miles out meant 2.5 miles back plus the mile up the hill to get home. So I walked around a bit, picked up a park map to see where I was and headed back home and took another detour to check out another path that I had wondered about.

A beautiful morning to be out, got to see an area I had never seen and before the heat of the day and all because I followed impulse to take a turn I hadn't before.

Something profound about that.




The moon was big this week as well but unfortunately my point and click camera shrinks even the biggest things and that's when the zoom is on.

The trees are beginning to fill in and for that brief moment in time there are beautiful views of the mountains and fields that are softened by the light green of spring.

One big thing that sold us on buying the house we are in now was the yard. The house itself is fine, much newer than the money pit we had left behind, on a quiet dead end street and located in a town where real estate retains value and is one of the better school districts in the state. But the house itself, when we saw it, had enormous bird cages in the family room and most of the room were very dark wallpaper, including rooms with only one window facing north and it has electric heat, which in New England draws is costly.





But in a town with a limited number of mid priced houses you make compromises. The irony of our decision to live here for the schools comes back to us on a regular basis as although we live less than a half mile from the high school, neither one of our kids ended up going there. As this is a public blog, I won't get into it much but there are challenges when you don't fit the mold in a very small town and though the schools are great, our kids thrived in a neighboring district 20 minutes away(you can go out of district at no cost) with a larger more diverse population and a broader curriculum.



How hind sight gets you. Had we known a dozen year ago about the job situation and the schools we might have moved somewhere very different.

But that rainy day when we looked at the house a second time, I walked to the back of the yard with the kids, while my wife was in the house. It was the softness of the trees that isolated and defined the property but didn't cut it off and the uneven grade of the land creating pathways and coves that was magical.



But living so near the woods has challenges as the woods is always seeking to reclaim the land, I never realized how much work property is, especially when your power equipment consists of a push mower and a Jeff powered rake and saw. Its good exercise and the kids pitch in when they have the time. But the clearing of all the debris from the winter and spring is where the burning season comes in.

From January through April, with a cheap permit, you can burn. So handling the dead limbs that are always falling and clipping back the bushes that seem to gain 3-4 feet of year each summer as well as disposing of the Christmas tree and wood pellet pallets becomes possible.

I think burning tends to be more of a primal guy thing, having the blazing fire and chopping and hauling wood and brush. It definitely is satisfying seeing things get cleaned up from the winter and the big piles disappear. Plus and area of grass that was previously just weed has a chance to come back seeded.



I know that when the kids are off to college and it is time to downsize there will be some things I'll miss about the house. But it will be the yard that I know I will miss.

Sitting out on the back porch listening to the wind, the animals trouping through, the views of Mt. Greylock in the winter through the bare trees, the way the fog settles between the trees and the blossoms of the trees in spring; camp fires in the back with kids gathering around; the way it connects with the woods and forest and a times becomes one.



I think by then the maintenance will have worn me a bit, as I feel it more and more now, but it will always be something special.