The Sin of Pride

I was about to write that I am suffering the sin of pride. But I really don't feel like I'm suffering! Just let me enjoy the glow for a few days while I remember those long weeks and months of evenings and weekends spent writing papers. Somehow I'd repressed that memory. I feel like I'm in this enchanted zone of hard work and dues paying off. We'll see how that translates career-wise. For today, yes, I'm bragging.

Detroit or Buffalo

When one spends good money to go see a show at the Fort Collins Lincoln Center and the acts are The Jayhawks and Justin Townes Earle, is it really right to spend the whole show obsessing whether or not the quickly introduced, cowgirl-boot-stompin', cute little girl fiddler is THAT Amanda Shires? Turns out it was. She's an accomplished fiddler out of Texas now touring with Earle. But recently I heard her singing her own songs on the satellite radio--on my drive back from Wyoming after Christmas. Caught part of a repeat to reinforce her name and her awesomeness. So while I enjoyed the show tonight, particularly the quirky and impressive talent of Earle, Shires is the one to watch. I say to thee, remember that name.

Amanda Shires - Detroit or Buffalo from Timoteo Harman on Vimeo.

A Few Good Things About the Week

Let's start the week at Sunday, the middle of a much-appreciated three-day weekend. I made use of some free time and our mild winter to drive myself east to the Pawnee Grasslands, a marginally protected area of Colorado short-grass prairie. Marginally=gas and oil development here and there. Protected area=pronghorn herd, prairie dog village, some birds of prey, and a developed hiking trail around a butte. This was my first actual hiking trip of any note following my ankle injury a couple of months ago and we did fine. More about that further on in another good thing. Back to the butte, the prairie will serve nicely as a substitute for my beloved desert--just as wide open, just as minimally chromatic this time of year, just as enriching to the soul. The small hike took me around some badland-type area with gullies and spires and washed cavities perfect for the burrowing owls who live here. In the distance, wind turbines disclose the nature of the prairie. Closer, the old fashioned kind pumps water for the cattle I did not see.

Prairie, grasslands, the Great Plains. If you are not trying to eke out a living from this barren landscape or keep the aerial prairie (hence the windmills) out of every cranny of your existence, the beauty is easy to see. It stretches out in every direction in a giant bowl of sky. Even the clouds which seemed ominous back in town are revealed as having edges, endings, out there somewhere between the hawk above and the horizon. And oh how good to walk again on this earth, the dust settling fine over me and mine.

Thich Nhat Hanh says that the real miracle is not walking on water or on hot coals; the real miracle is walking on this earth and knowing that we are walking on this earth.

Monday we commemorated Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Fort Collins hosts a walk/parade. We met in Old Town, hundreds of us on the square. Then we walked through town and over to campus where a program was held in the student center. Primarily the program consisted of young people who had won writing contests. We heard winning poetry and essays from 4th grade to college level. We were also treated to an African drumming group and a man singing a medley of songs from the civil rights era. A really wonderful event.

Wednesday I went back to physical therapy for my ankle and she told me it was less squishy following my week of icing and exercises. Progress. The dentist appointment following wasn't quite as easy peasy, but nothing unexpected...although I don't relish revisiting the gum surgery for the third time. I count it as progress, and therefore a good thing.

A good week at work as I geared up for today's deadline; material was due today for our annual report of which I am the editor and designer. Many people have submitted early and it's looking quite nice. And best of all, one of my plaid-wearers (complete with fleece vest) invited me into his office to help him select a photo to go with his story. This turned into a 20+ minute tutorial on hydrology, hydrogeology, and well drilling technology. I LOVED IT! It was supremely geeky, and it signified that this man (pretty representative of our plaid-wearing species in this way) gets that I'm very intelligent, very interested, and simply lacking slightly in hydrologic education. He described core samples (swoon).

Meanwhile, I replaced the oxygen sensor in the Jeep on Monday (after King). She's running great. I've been driving her around a lot the past few days. Turning her off, starting her up. No problems at all. She's back to her old self, let's hope.

And in a sure sign that I've boarded the crazy train, I've found myself a real estate agent and a mortgage broker. I am, I guess it's official, house hunting. Ack! Now, that's a daunting prospect. We'll see where it leads. One thing is for sure, it signifies how much I like this little scrap of earth that I'm walking on and want to make it my home. The sign is made, the house will come.

Free Tata

Or if you prefer, frittata--one of my longest-standing go-to comfort foods. All you need are eggs, cheese, and vegetables (a good way to use up the aging, wilting ones in the bottom of the refrigerator). For implements, a bowl, a whisk, and a deepish pan that can go from stovetop to oven (like Grandma's cast iron). Cook some vegetables, whisk together 8 eggs, a half cup of milk if you have it (not necessary), some cheese (you know how much you like; romano is traditional, cheddar is lovely, feta is adventurous), salt, pepper, and herbs if you have them. Add the cooked vegetables. Today I've got broccoli, red chard, and onion. Mix it up good and pour it into a slightly oiled pan. Cook slowly on the stovetop until the eggs are set on the lower two-thirds. When bubbles start to come up to the surface, it's time for the oven. Place the pan in a hottish oven (I use 350, but it's an inexact science). Cook until the top is brown and bubbly. Frittata is good hot, but traditionally it is served room temperature. You can also wrap a slice in a cloth, put it in your pocket, and take it out to the hills to enjoy for lunch while you are tending your sheep.

Blooming

Out of three amaryllis bulbs I bought before Christmas, this is the one that hit the jackpot. A lovely companion for January.

On a Lighter Note

To complete my living room decor, and therefore pretty much my whole nesting/settling-in process, last weekend I went out and bought the largest coffee table in Fort Collins for the smallest apartment in Fort Collins. It works great (and the thrift store price didn't hurt)!

It houses my little tray of meditation implements...

...provides a good place to eat my meals and a good place to work on my computer if I need to spread out a little, hides blankets underneath in baskets, and at the end there provides a location for my office plant hospice care (all right--still holding out hope that I can save that Christmas cactus.)

It even has lovely drawers, one of which has all of my songbooks since this is now the place to sit and play/sing.

In the future this will be a nice place to play scrabble too.

Other features of the room that you may notice include Creepy Sheep...

...also known as Sheepy Roundbottom...

...from the talented hands of my friend Holly. I somehow managed to acquire Sheepy during my Christmas visit (wasn't aware Sheepy was acquirable), and she goes very nicely in the living room with Bunny...

...who came into our lives more than 20 years ago.

On the wall I feature two Manzanar photographs by long-time volunteer and friend of Manzanar, Tom Clayton. He gifted me these beautiful pictures as I was ending my service there.

And finally, while I normally enjoy my little living room with a cup of tea and one of the extremely nice books I received for Christmas, today...

Yes, it may be the table that ate Fort Collins, but I beat it to the chocolate.

Happy January everybody. The guestquarters are open for business.

Fleeting

In the midst of quietly celebrating the beginning of a new year, new plans, new opportunities, I read the horrible news of the killing of ranger Margaret Anderson at Mount Rainier National Park. Margaret was a seasonal ranger at Bryce Canyon the summer I was there. She was quiet, warm, and conscientious.

All the time we learn that people whose paths we’ve crossed have died. That is the nature of our existence: we live, we die. Sometimes it comes too young, and alas sometimes it comes violently and seems beyond comprehension. We usually don’t have much choice in the death part—although perhaps the shooter made that choice for himself (but maybe he didn’t recognize the choice and my heart aches for his family as well). In the vacuum, we cry out for grace.

Generally, though, we have quite a lot to say about the way in which we live. Tragedies such as this are reminders, the beginning of a new year is also a reminder; this life we have is singular and precious. Problem is, it all goes by so quickly. And despite all the self-help books, it's hard to find ways to overcome the inertia, the habits, the fears (especially the fears: "It is a fearful thing to love what death can touch."). A friend on facebook recently posted a list of 30 things to stop doing to yourself. Two of them seemed particularly relevant: “Stop thinking you’re not ready – Nobody ever feels 100% ready when an opportunity arises;” and "Stop being scared to make a mistake – Doing something and getting it wrong is at least ten times more productive than doing nothing." A small reminder that much worse things than failure exist in this world. A reminder that the only thing that matters is to follow the heart and to respect and encourage others on their journeys.

Every day that we are alive is another opportunity to live it right—to be present to the people in our lives, the love in our hearts, and the beat of our drum. I hope you will join me in making that your wish for 2012.

Rest in peace, dear Margaret, much too soon.