Welcome 2012

2011 is in the last hours of countdown  I really do not look at life in terms of new years marching along one by one, but rather terms of how I made the year my own.  A year is just a year and things will happen as we travel the twelve month journey.  Some days may be good, great, okay or miserable, but we still own them.  We will always have pebbles, rocks, and boulders thrown down in front of us.  Sometimes we can walk around them, jump over others and some we have to climb.  But in between these rocks we find space for peace, joy, laughter, and love.  It is the spaces between that keep us moving and climbing. 

The good moments are where we find our anchor that keeps us from drifting.  Life is too precious to look down the road and wait for a new year hoping it will be better than the one we are working through.  Grab onto what is good and positive; let it take you past the days that are not so bright.  Occasionally, it is good to stop and count our blessings...big and little ones that make the path just a little wider and straighter.

What I wish for us all in 2012 is a positive attitude, grateful heart, determination and faith in ourselves.

 
No matter how tough the winter or how bitter the wind the flowers will always remember to bloom!

Journey to Mars

How far we have come!  Forty nine years ago the world was forever changed.  February 20, 1962
found Americans glued to their televisions sets as John Glen journeyed into space.  We all watched as the rocket propelled him into the relatively unknown world of outer space.  He orbited the earth three times and in so doing opened the door to further space research and travel.  I was thirteen and totally captivated.  It was such an exciting time as America competed with Russia to go the farthest, the fastest--it was all about being the best.

My generation has been privileged to see the advancements in space exploration from its first conception.  I remember dark nights in the backyard watching for satellites to pass over and thinking how amazing it was that an object could continuously circled the planet and not fall back toward earth.
A new world and vocabulary was opening up.  I watched the first moon landing on TV totally captivated by such an unbelievable event.  The country was united and  differences were put aside as the nation celebrated the victory.   There was a sense of pride and excitement shared by Americans as the space race moved forward.

Nolan and I watched launches as kids.  They were always a topic of discussion in school as each mission advanced in duration and sophistication.  If a launch took place during school time a television was hooked up in the lunch room so we could watch.  Everything about space was new and fascinating, still a little bit magical.  The beginning was a series of baby steps as knowledge about space exploration and what it held for the future began to build.


By the time our children were in school, space exploration was something they saw as nothing out of the ordinary.  The last fifty years have been full of wonder and zest to go further and farther.  Now we stretch out to planets that have been beyond our reach. What once seemed only possible in a science fiction movie is moving closer to reality.  How much is yet to be achieved is still a big question waiting to be answered.


The latest vehicle was launched into space on November 26th.  The Mars Science Laboratory  Curiosity will arrive on Mars in August 20012.  Nolan and I will follow its journey closely and with more than just a casual interest.  We watched the launch the of Curiosity up close and personal.  It is hard to explain the emotions that were aroused as the rocket left the pad and moved toward the sky.  The intensity and color of the flame as ignition took place was unexpected.  It was a brilliant orange.  The energy of the rocket thrust was surprising.  Imagination is no substitute for the real thing.  Being present you understand the amount of energy it takes to accomplish such an undertaking.  The anticipation builds as the final countdown begins.  In one voice everyone counts down the last ten seconds. A roar of ignition and the flame builds as the rocket leaves the pad.  It is followed by  cheers and yells.  Every person is caught up in the emotions of those few seconds.  For a brief period we are all united by the experience; just proud Americans grateful to stand there together and share the moment as one.

WOW! what a thrill to be there---MSL  A long journey about 45-50 million miles to Mars!  Scheduled arrival is August of 2012.  GO CURIOSITY!

All Things New

Here we are in Florida--Coca Beach for a week.  We have the opportunity of a life time.  Saturday Nolan and I will be at Kennedy Space Center watching the launch of the Curiosity, the Mars Science Laboratory.  After watching space launches since we were children we will actually be part of one in person--how exciting!  Sometimes life presents us with a gift that is totally unexpected.

We spent today exploring the area.  It is refreshing to have the opportunity to see new territory.  What is fun and interesting to us is probably boring to the natives.  Palm trees, ocean, sand, colorful kites flying on the beach and wild life that is totally foreign is like a walk through a picture book.  It was impossible to drive by the alligator on the road side.  We were not the only outsiders who had to stop for photos.  It was us and the couple from Italy.  I suppose an alligator here compares to seeing deer in Idaho--a common sight. 

Last night we attended a reception for the  MSL project participants and those invited to the launch and work shop. The NASA director gave a few remarks. He made a point of reminding everyone that we should be proud of this endeavour as Americans.   Everyone is part of the success.  It was refreshing and up lifting to be reminded of what is positive about our nation and put the negative aspects aside.  He said one of the most thrilling experiences is watching the launch of a vehicle that actually leaves this planet and moves toward an object in space.  So far out there--what an accomplishment for man.

This isn't Idaho

   
My Little mind is trying to wrap its self  around the sun shine and warmth.Yesterday we were dressing to keep warm and today we are trying to shed the layers.  The Idaho weather is left behind for a few days with much celebration.  Orland seems like another world.  It certainly doesn't take one long to adjust to a bright sky and 80 degree temps.  I wonder if people living here ever long for snow, cold and wind?  No, I don't think so.

I walked along the vast stretch of beach letting the water tease my feet.  There is something that has always drawn me to the ocean.  Is it the sound, the energy of the water or the dancing waves?  I came back with my pockets full of shells that I will add to shell jar. 

While Nolan attends NASA workshops and gets smarter and smarter, I just wander aimlessly absorbing the sights and noise of a new and different place.  For me the lack of structure and schedules is like a drink in the desert.  Let's face it, I enjoy turning my brain off now and again.  I think it needs a break and who am I to deny such a simple pleasure. 

My simple pleasure was spying a jello fish during my walk.  Something new for me and if felt it was a photo moment. Everyone walked on by--I guess they have seen one before.

In order to get to this paradise there several hours of chaos that had to be endured .  I suppose it was a small price to pay.

I am not, by any means, the super woman of holiday decor and frolics these days.   I move slowly from one celebration to the next with a sense of dread and obligation to participate.  There was a time in my life when I thought I needed decorations for every festive day that appeared on the calendar.  I couldn't wait to drag the boxes out and get started.   I saved, stored and boxed glass eggs, plaster eggs, and sugared eggs.  The snow man made of quilt batting that one of the kids made in school was gently wrapped each January to insure its safety through the coming months.   I had center pieces for the table to commemorate the numerous holidays.  It did not seem like a huge undertaking to move from holiday to holiday.  I gracefully moved through the transition with little irritation and stress.  The months must have passed slower, because I was never behind.  Now for some reason I am always playing catch up.


Thanksgiving has not even arrived and the shelves in the stores are devoid of Thanksgiving adornments.  The Christmas music is blasting through the mall and Walmart is a junky mess.  My fall wheat is still on the table along with the pilgrims and pumpkins.  The Halloween pumpkins are still on the porch--granted they are plastic so they haven't rotted--but is it really time for Christmas lights and wreaths? 

There is something not right about this whole holiday thing.  One just blends into the other and soon they become one big ball rolling out of control and continually gathering speed.  If decorations for Christmas are available in the stores the last of October, maybe we should skip November and move onto December and then there would only be one big meal to fix and plan.

                                                                                       

I just can't feel Christmas yet.  The pumpkins and pilgrims haven't over stayed their welcome yet so I am hesitant to ask them to leave before they have had their last hurrah.












I must face the truth and quit making excuses for my failure to participate with an eager spirit and artistic flare.  The honest truth is--I am being pushed faster than I want to go.  Let me keep my wheat and little people on the table two more weeks then I will gently pack them away along with the plastic pumpkins on the porch and move them to the basement to rest until next fall.  If that is possible then I will be able to make the transition form yellow and gold to red and green.  The tree will appear as well as the center piece for the table.  The snow globes will find there place under the tree so little hands can shake them and I might just put little lighted trees on the porch to fill the spot once occupied by pumpkins.  Eventually I will be ready for Christmas just in time to get the Valentine decorations out.

Slowing Down

As Garrison Keillor would say, "It has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon.  I must say it has been a quiet week here in Southeastern Idaho. October and November are the precursor of seasonal changes.  I always feel a desperate need to hang on to October.  Warm days and chilly evenings are great for walks and bike rides.  By the end of the month the day light is noticeable shorter.  There is something about the shortening of the day that forewarns of long winter nights.

Yesterday was one of those golden jewel days that we often get as last present before fall gives way to winter; a bright sky with a few clouds slowly building as the day matured and sun low in the sky. When a day like that comes along you grab it and run.  We drove through the Teton Valley.  The summer visitors are gone and the skiers have not yet arrived.  Only a touch of snow capped the mountain tops and a few leaves still remained on the trees.

There was a feeling of solitude and a quiet sense of contentment.  Yesterday was indeed a rare gift, for tonight a soft snow is falling.  It is wet and won't last, but it is an announcement that fall has marched on and that is as it should be.  The cycle continues and things around us slow down.  We become semi home bodies and pass the time inside rather than outside.  Maybe this is how it was meant to be.  Possibly we need a time for thought, renewal and a time to appreciate the cycle of the seasons and what each brings.

The Wine of California

  

Fall has made her appearance, but with a little less splendor this year.  She brought an early snow storm that broke tree limbs and pulled the loaded apple branches to the ground.  October is always a month with a big question mark.  We left Idaho the first week of October to visit the Sonoma Valley in California.  The snow storm arrived without us being here.  No sadness in missing it--no remorse at all.  California welcomed us with warm temperatures and occasional rain showers; much better than snow.
We had wanted to make a trip to the wine country to see if it was really as outstanding as everyone professed it to be--and it was 

The vineyards were just waiting to give up their crops.  The grapes hung in heavy dark clusters soaking up the late fall sun in a final attempt to reach perfection.  The sweet fragrant smell hung over the valley from the grapes that had already been picked and crushed.  There is something akin to magic as you immerse yourself in the area.  The straight rows of vines trailing along the trellises are so perfect.  It is obvious they are tended with care, patience, and love.  The low rolling hills open up to endless vineyards and wineries.

So close to home, yet so far.  This must surely be Italy or France.  Everything reads like the picture books I have devoured.  We road bikes along the curving road in Dry Creek Valley which provided a more intimate close up experience.  Each curve, every hill gave us a new picture.  Biking along the road you notice things you would other wise miss.  The slower pace allows for frequent stops to take pictures and just enjoy the moment.  We found a country store where lunches were prepared with farm fresh produce.  It is hard to believe as you sit on the porch looking at the arces of vines that a city of 170,000 people is 15 miles away.  The valley is like a secret.

The wineries hide behind the vines and are reached by roads lined with rose bushes or beds of perennials.  Some sit atop a hill watching over the valley.  We visited as many as we could squeeze into a day.  All have a sense of elegance and welcome you to just browse; buy some cheese, a t-shirt, jam and of course the wine.  They are great places to rest on benches in the gardens and we watched humming birds and chickens.  If we went back a dozen times we still would not see them all.

This was definitely not southeastern Idaho.  It was farm country, but not the potatoes, hay, or grain we are accustomed to.  But there are similarities;  every farmer loves his land and the crops he grows.  There is a tie to the land they all share and the battles are the same.  The weather is always a constant threat.  Sometimes it is friendly and without warning it can turn its back.   What we saw was the end result of hard work, monetary investment, and worry.  To us it was pure enjoyment and a new and different view of this vast country.  If you don't get out of your box how will you ever know how many other boxes are out there waiting to be explored.

Craters of the Moon

Craters of the Moon National Monument--

Such a rough land scape.  Yet, it has its own beauty that sets it apart--a quality of beauty that makes it unique.  Cinder cones line the skyline in their various shapes and heights.  As the light moves and shifts the colors change from dark, almost black to a deep grey.  Hardy conifers have found places to dig their roots into the fertile volcanic soil and hold tenaciously, grabbing whatever water comes their way.
Monkey brush, with its yellow blooms stands among the lava adding sparks of color to the arid landscape.

 Everything that grows here is tough!  Nothing lives lightly in this space.  Sage brush sends a tap root 6 to 10 feet deep into the soil to drink in long-lasting ground water.  The shallow roots near the surface absorb rainfall and a deeper set of roots extract water that soaks into the soil as the winter snowpack melts.  So well adapted for survival, it was created to live here.

The wind whispers across the piles of lava  stirring the vegetation, then suddenly it changes and windy gusts push in rocking the trees back and forth.  It leaves as abruptly as it arrives.  I try to imagine, as I take in the vast view, what it must have been like thousands of years ago during the creation process: the smell, noise, color, the heat.  There was no one to hear its birth or watch its miraculous development.  Craters saved its comeliness and waited to be found.

I can understand why the people who manage Craters of the Moon have a special feeling for it. This park is extrodinary and in a class of its own.  I can appreciate Nolan's growing attachment to Craters as he spends summer weekends there presenting astronomy programs.  It may not be extremely green nor does it have water the eye can see.  If it did-- wouldn't it just look so much like everything else?

Everyone finds the solar scope interesting.  Who doesn't want to see sun spots.

From a distance this plant looks like a cluster of white flowers--touch it and it is soft and shrub like.

Finding France

I have long had a dream of visiting France when the lavendar is in bloom.  I can see myself drivng over the winding roads, up and down the low rolling hills in my fancy little car with the top down, and the wind blowing my hair.  The sun is bright and the fields are various shades of purple and I am soaking in the beauty and flavor of Provence.  Alas, the dream has of yet not been fullfilled so I found lavendar fields closer to home.  How about Mona, Utah.  Yes, there are fields of purple in Utah.   

France it is not, but I can't find fault with the color and the mountains framing the fields.  We visited the distillery and saw the huge vats  where the dried lavendar is crushed in the process of obtaining the oil from the plants and learned about the numerous uses of lavendar oil.  The only thing the small town of Mona has going for it is the lavendar farm.  Very few people live in the area.  There is one extremely small store and a hamburger stand where you order from your car or the front window.  You have to remind yourself that you are only 30 miles south of Provo.

 
This is the store in Mona.  We thought it was closed down and just left as a reminder of a past era, until we saw people coming and going. 


Part of the garden area at the visitors center
and store

Maybe someday I will visit Provence, but I have seen lavendar fields and didn't have to travel far to see the rows of purple.  Lavendar is lavendar no matter where it grows.  I'm satisfied---I do wish I'd had the fancy little car.

    

     So often life becomes cluttered and it is hard to separate ourselves from the parts we would rather not have to deal with.  We need to step away from the moment and look for something that feeds the inner self.  It is okay to take care of ourselves.  We need candy for the soul.  Most often the things that make us feel good are close at hand and we simply forget to look. 

A sunset not from yoiur own backyard, but seen a few miles down the road puts a different slant on the same clouds. 

We become accustomed to routine.  At certain times the moon is visible in the very early evening and also sets before dark.  Take a look--mix things up a little.

There is a large vacant lot on the corner near my house.  In late July and August the sunflowers bloom.  I drive past them every day, yet it never occured to me that I should pick them and bring them home.  I never paused long enough to see them and I almost missed out on something special.

Making something original that is totally my creation is also is candy for my soul.  I have found many small things that add pleasure and help put life in perspective.  It is these small things that add up to balance out the craziness that often invades us.  The trick is--don't forget to walk outside the craziness to find your candy.

Grumble

I have been contemplating  a new post for many, many, many days not, but I have not been visited by my muse.  I think perhaps it is because I am still emotionally drained from the lack of sun.  Who would want to make contact with a person constantly mourning the lost season of spring.  If my muse does not choose to make contact, then perhaps it is up to me to make the most of a bad season and look for the bright spots.  I have had to travel farther south to find the sun and blossoms.  Sorry Idaho, I just couldn't wait you out and I defected to Southern Utah to recharge my batteries. 

Aren't things looking better?  It is amazing what a flower and color can do for the soul.

Yes, Mr. Lizard the sun is good for mental health.

When I need a pick me up I can always look at photos and count the number of vitamin D tablets left in the bottle.

Dinner at Watson's

Pulling up the old building it seemed to be a misplaced relic that had managed to stand its ground in the chaos of the 21st century.  It had seen two lives.  The first as a bank in the early 1900s and the second as Watson's Bar.  In 1935 it shifted from banking to--well whatever one does in a bar.  

This old structure is a cafe/bar.  Opening the door we were greeted by a tiny, brown, curly haired dog.  Tail wagging, she waited for our greeting and a pet.  Three men sat at the opposite end of the bar with smoke curling around their heads and a drink of choice in front of them.  One strumed a guitar and hummed softly.    Old locals from the Menan area, they looked up and waved us on in.  "Come on in and sit right up here," one said.  As we hesitated a woman entered through a swinging door and walked towards us smiling.  "Do you serve food?" I asked.  "Sure do.  Have a seat and I'll grab a menu.  Sorry we are all out of elk burger today."  "Well, that is a disappointment," I said.  She laughed and asked what we wanted to drink.  "A tall glass of water for both of us."

Just listening to the conversations while we ate was like the beginning of a novel.  Roy, the owner of the dog had the most to say.  He talked about a fishing trip to Island Park with no money in his pocket.  The buddy he went with had enough to rent a boat and that emptied his pocket.  Periodically, he called Coco back to his side and apologized to us because he was afraid she was a pest.  She just added flavor to the already spiced atmosphere.  Coco cried and begged him to be allowed on his lap and sure enough he picked her up and she also sat at the bar minus the drink.

Don't call me Darlin oh no don't call me Darlin wails the guitar player and everyone joins in the chorus.  Coco sits quietly without joining in.  The backdoor opens and two more locals wander in.  Lots of how you doing--hay there Roy-- oh, Coco you little cutie and pats on the backs.  The two men sit next to us.  One has short gray hair and is obviously older than the other.  He sits down and throws a purse on the bar.  Opps, it is a woman and the other gentleman's mother no less.  Excuse me!

Randy comes in the front door--More pats and howdy dos go the rounds. I know for sure Randy is not a women because he sports a full beard and no purse.  He pulls a wallet out of his pocket and walks to the ATM machine.

 As a quiet observer I wish I knew the story of each person--where have they been, what have they seen.  I see lives far different from mine.  I am sure that they have lived hard and worked hard, yet I can sense the friendship and caring they share for each other .We were definitely outsiders, but it doesn't matter.  They invited us back May 7th for the Kentuckey Durby party.  It will be lots of fun they tell us.

Yes, we were out of our eliment, but that was okay.  We need diversity in our lives.  It is important to remember we all live together in various ways.  Even if our paths cross only once or just occasionally we all  have many things in common.  The main lesson to be learned from lunch at Watson's Bar--we were welcomed and accepted into their private place.

Pictures from our walk through Deer Park Land Perserve near the Menan Butes