Stepping Out of the Box

I was going to tell you that I'll be blogging less often, but then I read this: http://thepioneerwoman.com/blog/2010/09/ten-important-things-ive-learned-about-blogging/

Read #2.  I won't be a cactus.  I just can't.

But I must warn you: things are about to change.  I went back to school.  That's right.  The teacher is a student again.  And I don't do things half-heartedly, so you're going to hear about it.  Most definitely. For instance, I realized tonight that apart from the professor, I'm the only teacher in the bunch.  And they all want to do what I'm doing.  I'm trying to step back and let them discover their own teacher's hearts.  I'm having trouble keeping my mouth shut; I hope I don't alienate anyone.  The professor is good; she makes the class interesting, and structures the class well.

So, wish me luck.  So far, I'm finding the subject stimulating; it's about the historical and ideological growth of the field of Art Education. Which is why I can't keep my mouth shut.  I feel like that kid in the front row with their hand up, going "ooh...ooh..." and just DYING to speak.  Not a bad feeling.

I'll keep you posted. Maybe I'll be doing some growing too.

In the mean time, I'm still milking my goatie girls, walking Faith, and pursuing my recently set goals.  And...believe it or not, Peter and I went camping this weekend.  That's right.  I'm stepping out of my box.  And (whispers) I actually enjoyed it.

View from my tent, Labor Day weekend

The times, they are a' changing.

I caught myself singing in my classroom this morning during my prep.  What the heck is going on here?  I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Road Trip: Girls at Play

My good buddy Jill, who's been my friend since the 5th grade, treated me to a wonderful pre-birthday trip to Philadelphia yesterday.  She set it all up: a night at the Embassy Suites and a trip to the Philadelphia Art Museum to see the Renoir exhibit.  Wow...I'm a lucky lady.

The Parkway; Don't ask me about William Penn...

We checked into the motel at about 11, and headed straight over to the museum for the show, which was predictably wonderful.  I was most impressed by Renoir's tenacity.  Despite crippling arthritis, he continued to paint until he died at the age of 78, in 1919.  An amazing feat; the final part of the exhibit was a film clip of Renoir painting at the very end of his life, with his brushes tied to his hands.

Having just had my hand operated on, I understand his pain on a visceral level.  The statement he made rings true; he said that the only time he could forget the pain was when he was painting, so he continued to paint.  He had to choose between walking and painting (he was riddled with arthritis, and both activities took all of his energy).  He chose to paint.  What a guy!

Jill's Favorite: Dancing Girl with Castanets

After a great lunch at the art museum, we returned to the motel to reorient ourselves.  We decided that we'd enjoy hearing some jazz that evening, so we made our reservations at Chris' (15th and Sansom), then took a little walk to Love Park.

Aptly named. Robert Indiana's Love Sculpture in Love Park. Jill wouldn't pose, so I photographed a random happy family.

We stopped at an Irish pub on the way back, where we struck up a conversation with a Canadian man named Michael, and a bartender named Michael.  I suspect there were other Michaels in the bar as well. 
Canadian Michael was in the process of buying dinner for a police officer that he had inadvertently made an offensive gesture at...purely by accident, mind you.  Good old Michael. We didn't stay there long, though the place was otherwise charming. Michael's brother was feeling the love...perhaps a little too much. 

Tir Na Nog Irish pub, complete with Irish bartenders and multiple Michaels.

 Happy hour at the Embassy Suites followed, where we were amused by the crowd.  People watching is such fun!  We eventually made out way to Chris' (by cab),and enjoyed more people watching, along with a sumptuous meal, more wine, and an exceptional band. 

Chris' Jazz Cafe; Jackie Ryan with the Larry McKenna Quartet

How can I sum up the trip?  It was wonderful to spend some time with my good, long time friend.  Her generosity was overwhelming, especially right now; Peter is without work, and waiting for his unemployment to kick in, and this is my last week of summer vacation before I return to teaching.  I've wanted to spend some time with her for years, and we finally had the opportunity. I can't begin to share the millions of laughs or stories we shared; the 42 years of history we share is such  fertile ground for us.  We know each other so well that many things are unspoken.  It was comfortable, this time we shared.  Neither of us has a sister, but I believe we provide that familial closeness for each other.  It's comforting. And it was a long way from the farm, for a welcome dose of culture.

Heaven. A good memory to close the summer.  Thank you, Jill.

Road Trip!

Since I'll be getting back to milking the goats on Tuesday, Peter and I took advantage of our relatively duty-free weekend, and combined business with pleasure on a little camping trip. Our mission: to scope out a mobile home that a kind soul was willing to donate to the farm; unfortunately (for the farm), said mobile home was 125 miles away. We booked a camp site, and hit the road.

The trip was a bit circuitous. Luckily, we didn't have a deadline, so it was easy to enjoy the scenery.  We found ourselves on a dirt road somewhere near Stevensville, PA, where these two were crossing the road:

Momma and son pygmy goats

If there's a goat in the road, I'll find her.  These dwarf goats were adorable...and very curious!

One of the "Alpine Lakes"

Our 2.5 hour trip took about 4 hours. Oh well.

We set up camp at The Alpine Meadow Lakes Campsite.  After about an hour or two of Rummy (the card game) and wine, a storm began to roll in...complete with tornado warnings.  Peter, the intrepid camper, braved the storm for awhile.

Storm? What storm?

We had the worst camping neighbors ever; the site filled up with what felt like 30 teenagers (but was actually about a dozen people ranging in age from about 30 down to late teens.  The campground was pretty lax in its enforcement of the drinking age...well, they actually ignored it.  These kids played drinking games at the top of their lungs until 2 AM.  I finally fell asleep with my ears stuffed full of paper towels and a pillow wrapped around my head.  The only thing that saved them from a midnight rant was the fact that they were friendly drunks.  Sheesh.

Worst. Neighbors. Ever.

7 AM:  Headaches commence in 3...2...1...

We woke up early.  I was tempted to blow the horn next to their tents, but I restrained myself. After a breakfast of camp-sandwiches and warm diet cola (it wasn't as bad as it sounds...it was pretty filling!) we began to break camp for the true purpose of our trip: finding and photographing the mobile home for Kathy. As we finished packing up, the clouds rolled in; we were in for a wet day.  Thankfully, the rain broke the heat.  It had been excruciating prior to the *tornado* the night before.

A view of the campground

The countryside was beautiful; the site was beautiful.  We looked forward to a glorious day.

Twin fawns in the road while we were lost; you have to accept the gifts as they're given.

As usual, we got lost. Note to self: Verizon's "Navigator" AP doesn't work in the mountains. But it was early and cool out, so we took our time.  I don't like driving around in circles, though.  After about an hour of it, we stopped for a map and directions.  I felt just like these guys by then. Check out their expressions.  We parked right in front of them; they made me laugh.

WWF road rage faces

Back on the road, we once again zigged when we should have zagged, and ended up in New York State.  We U-turned, and passed this cool auto show on the way back...the way...we came...again.

Bedrock? OK...

We finally found the site, photographed the mobile home in a downpour, met the charming owner and two of his 10 foster kids, then headed out. It was a HUGE trailer. I'll leave the logistics to the pros; our work was done here.

Mission Completed.

Though it poured the entire way home, the scenery was awesome.  There's something so mysterious about mountains in the mist.  They make me wonder what's living in the forests, and how wild and beautiful this country still is in certain places. We stopped for a view of the Susquehanna River...what a sight!  We drove parallel to the river for about 1/4 of our trip home.  It's a gorgeous river: slow, wide, awesome. Kind of like me. ;)

The Susquehanna River

And then, home.  Home feels good after a road trip. I have to say: despite the tornado, rain, lousy neighbors, getting lost, and 8 hours in the car, it was fun. The key is travelling without deadlines or expectations.  The experience unfolds at its own rate, and we can simply witness the wonder. And then happily come home again.

Tuesday will bring me home to the goats; despite my gimpy knee and splinted hand, the girls need me.  Peter has been my faithful partner, and promised to help.  I missed the girls; it'll be good to be back.

Just ignore this picture.  My software won't let me move it up.  It's the near-tornado.

The Plot Thickens

We just returned from a wonderful week away; in our defense, this week was planned 7 months ago, and paid for last year, a "use it or lose it" situation.

Why do we need to defend a vacation, you ask?

I've been holding out on you.  Unless you happen to know me face to face, in the flesh (except for my mom, who I'll have to confess to next time I see her). My apologies if you read this first, mom.

My dear husband, who was (yes WAS) employed by Lehigh University, has become another statistic of the recession.  The grant that funded his position was cut, and we have become a single income family.  Sort-of; he will collect unemployment for awhile, and is eligible for Social Security. This came as something of a shock, and trooper that he is, he vowed to get out there and win that bread, etc., but the fact is, he's 62.  The 28 year old would get the job, if there WAS a job. Time to slow down, regroup, and see where life leads us.

It's been leading ME back to the earth.

It's frightening...and exciting...and a challenge, and liberating, and limiting; kind of like that first step into the world of adulthood, but in reverse.  We know how it works now...we just don't know what our limitations will be.

Our vacation was bittersweet.

Will we stay in this house?  I don't know.  Will he actually, really and truly retire? I don't know.

After a few weeks of stomach churning anxiety, I've decided to give up my fears to the Powers-That-Be. What will be, will be.

I'm still working.  That's what I know.

We've had our moments lately; but we had 10 good years, and we have each other and the skills of our minds and the compassion in our hearts, and we will move on...

to the next phase.

Wherever it leads us.

We have a tentative plan...but that story will have to wait.

I think it might turn out to be a good one.

Down 'the Shore

-----See You Soon!

Fifteen Minutes of Spring

We arrived home early this afternoon to open blossoms on the pear trees, fully blooming tulips, and 88 degree weather.  It seems that when we left for the Poconos, we took the springtime weather with us.  Summer came when we were away!

I believe that yesterday was my favorite day away.  We saddled up the Miata and took a ride north with the top down.  Though we had no particular destination, we did make our way to Hickory Run, a beautiful State Park. We drove for what seemed like miles on a dirt road (*note to self: dirt roads and convertibles are NOT a good idea),to find the amazing boulder field you see below:

 The boulder field is a National Natural Landmark.  It should be; it's amazing.

We also stopped at the Francis E. Walter Dam, at the head of the Lehigh River.  Our dear friend John, who passed away 2 years ago, was instrumental in convincing the Army Corp of Engineers to raise the level of the dam in order to insure more stable levels for the fish and environment, and weekly releases for the recreational boaters and fishermen.  I took this picture (below) for him; I hope that somehow he knows he was successful.

Notice the road that disappears into the water and reemerges on the other side?  That road was the reason the dam was kept low for so many years.  It's obviously closed now.  ;)

I have to say that one of the best things about going away for a few days is coming home again.  It reminds us of how good familiarity can feel.  I was happy to return to my cats and plants, to my garden and my spot on the couch.  Though my wonderful neighbor had taken great care of everything for us, I missed our furry kids and my newly sprouted herbs.  I'll be back to work tomorrow, refreshed and ready to face the long spring session ahead of us. 

My next challenges: Spring Open House at Flint Hill on the 17th, and starting my garden plot at the farm!  Hooray!!!!

Why They Call It Split Rock

Easter at Split Rock: Early Morning Views

 Peter at the top of the lookout; we tasted a fresh birch twig at the top before I descended. Mmmmm...reminds me of my childhood. The air was fresh and clean; slight breeze, about 57 degrees. A perfect spring day.

I'm not sure what's going on with my formatting here; I'll sort that out later. Springtime in the Poconos: beautiful!