As Good As It Gets

Flat Stanley in New Hampshire

2010-04-11T14:44:00.000-07:00

Flat Stanley arrived in our mailbox in Plainfield, New Hampshire on Friday, April 2nd. He stayed with us for a week. During his visit, he helped transplant some purple pansies, saw our first daffodils bloom, went fishing with Grandpa Mike’s friend, Steve, went swimming in the pond, and saw a trout up close and personal. Stanley also traveled with us to visit Aunt Amanda, Uncle Kamal and your cousin, Tasneem.

When Flat Stanley arrived, Nana was planting Pansies near the front walk. Flat Stanley likes flowers, and he wanted to get right into the dirt and help.

After the flowers were planted, Nana took Flat Stanley to see our first daffodil blooms. Flat Stanley was surprised to see that spring flowers were just starting to bloom in New Hampshire; they had been blooming in North Carolina for a long time.

Then we saw Grandpa Mike’s friend, Steve, drive up to the pond to fish. Steve let his dog, Cider, get out of the truck to play -- Kimosabe ran down the driveway to greet her. Grandpa Mike took Flat Stanley down to watch Steve fish with his fly rod, but he wanted to help. So Steve put Flat Stanley in his fly pouch where he could help cast and watch for trout.

After a few casts, a trout came up from the bottom of the pond and grabbed the fly on the end of the line. Steve and Flat Stanley spent a long time reeling in the line and getting the trout close to shore where they could grab him and pick him up to get the hook out of his mouth (Steve always releases the fish he catches if he can.)

Just as Steve leaned over to grab the trout, a big gust of wind blew Flat Stanley right out of his pouch and into the pond. Cider rushed to the edge to urge Flat Stanley to swim back to the shore, but Flat Stanley had not learned how to swim very well.

Grandpa Mike and Steve helped get Flat Stanley out of the pond, but he was really wet and cold (and being all wet was not good for Flat Stanley) so we took a picture of Flat Stanley with his fish, and Steve put the trout back into the pond and watched him swim away.

Grandpa Mike and Flat Stanley went back to the house where Nana helped Flat Stanley get dry and patched up. What a day!

On Wednesday, Flat Stanley went for a long drive to see Aunt Amanda, Uncle Kamal and Tasneem. They live in Niskayuna, New York -- Flat Stanley sat on the dash and watched the scenery as we drove from New Hampshire, across the Connecticut River, over the Green Mountains of Vermont, and into New York State. The trees were not as pretty as they are in the fall when their leaves are bright reds and oranges and yellows. Now the trees are mostly bare with little buds showing where green leaves will soon be. As we went over the mountains, we saw Killington Mountain and Pico Mountain ski slopes. There was still snow on the ski trails, but not much -- we didn’t see anyone skiing; it was over 80 degrees! We also crossed over the Appalachian Trail and the Long Trail where people hike, and sometimes snow-shoe or cross-country ski in winter. Flat Stanley was amazed to find out that the Appalachian Trial is over 2000 miles long and goes from Springer Mountain in Georgia all the way to Mount Katahdin in Maine. He wondered if Jackson would want to hike the Appalachian Trail when he gets older or maybe the Long Trail which goes the full length of Vermont from Massachusetts to the Canadian border. He was also surprised to find out that Grandpa Mike helped maintain a section of the Long Trail not far from where it crossed the road we were on; Grandpa Mike showed him where the trail crossed and went into the woods.

When we got to Aunt Amanda’s, everyone was excited to meet Flat Stanley. Tasneem is only 5 months old. She reached out for Flat Stanley and wanted to put him in her mouth. Nana and Flat Stanley didn’t think that was such a good idea so he gave Tasneem a hug and then played quietly by himself for awhile.

On Flat Stanley’s last day with us he helped Grandpa fertilize the garden by spreading sheep manure with the tractor. Pretty soon we will be planting onions and sugar snap peas.

See Flat Stanley here in Grandpa Mike’s pocket? It was pretty windy out, and he almost blew away again!

After a long day of working outside, we relaxed, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of Mount Ascutney.

We really enjoyed our visit with Flat Stanley – I think he enjoyed visiting with us, too.

Birthing - Then and Now

2009-11-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a great day for the birth of our new granddaughter, our fifth grandchild. We spent the day at the "Alice Peck Day Birthing Center", a wonderfully mom & baby centered, friendly place to be. Nana was thrilled to support and coach Amanda through the birthing process; Grandpa did an outstanding job of holding down a chair in the waiting room, alternating with wearing a path into the hallway’s vinyl floor. ‘Sweet Pumpkin’ (Nana’s interim name until Amanda and Kamal make their choice) was born at 2:40 p.m., 7 lbs 8.5 oz, and 19” long.

I couldn’t help but reflect on the differences in the support that Amanda and Kamal were getting from the experience we had with our first birth experience when Elizabeth was born. The end result was the same; a beautiful and healthy baby, new parents overwhelmed by the experience, their new responsibility, and their joy. The process, however, was very different.

We spent 12 weeks in Lamaze classes, practiced our breathing techniques (I had to practice too so I could coach Mary Lou in the labor room), practiced our relaxation techniques (they still work!) ; we were ‘prepared’ when we went to the hospital. It turned out that we were the only ones who were. In 1972, ‘natural childbirth’ was “new”, and we were viewed as a couple of young hippy kids who didn’t understand that the birthing process was really about the convenience of the doctors and nurses. They got that part right; we didn’t!

Anyway, I have some memories:

As Mary Lou’s membrane started to leak, after 24 hours the hospital response was to get the process going with pitosin (sp) pills. They were placed between lip and gum to dissolve and be absorbed through the gums. (We had a choice of using an IV but didn’t have sense enough to choose it and didn’t have anyone to explain the potential problems w. pills)

The nurse tried to usher me out of the labor room when the doctor arrived to check ML. She was shocked and very uncomfortable when the Dr. said I could stay.

As labor progressed, Mary Lou was trying to do her breathing with her mouth coated with half-dissolved, pasty pitosin. I was trying my best to ‘coach’, but there was no support. The Hospital staff didn’t understand Lamaze and, for sure, didn’t understand why anyone would want to go through a natural childbirth instead of using the conveniences of modern medicine!

The anesthetist came in ready to do her thing. She seemed hurt, even offended, that we didn’t want her services.

As transition approached, the nurse’s shift change was coming up and the Dr. had been there most of the night. I overheard someone (Dr. I think) say, “Let’s move this along.” More pit pills were added to goop up Mary Lou’s mouth.

As birth approached, Mary Lou was moved to an operating theatre they called a delivery room. I sat by Mary Lou’s shoulder and watched in a little mirror about the size of a kid’s bike mirror. Dr. and nurses made sure I didn’t see the episiotomy (which was SOP) or afterbirth, anything but the birth itself.

Elizabeth was placed on Mary Lou’s stomach for 30 seconds or so and then taken by the nurses to be cleaned up, weighed, measured, and whisked off to the nursery ICU.

We had asked to have “rooming in”. That was another new concept so, after 24 hours in ICU because of the membrane leak, they put a bassinette at the end of Mary Lou’s bed, put Elizabeth in it, and said, “Call us if you need us.”

The most amazing thing about all of this is that we (especially Mary Lou) chose to go through this process two more times! Actually, we didn’t know any better; we thought it was ‘beautiful’, with a few little hitches.

Corey’s birth was much better. The nurses, at least, had a better understanding of natural childbirth and were supportive. We also knew more and could advocate for ourselves, somewhat. The Doctor tolerated it, but didn’t quite ‘get it’.

After Corey was born, still in the ‘delivery room’, and we were trying to process all that had happened, the Dr. was stitching up the episiotomy (still SOP) and explaining to me that he was using a ‘Philadelphia’ stitch instead of a ‘Chicago’ stitch – I don’t remember the names. It was clear that for him, the important part of the birthing process was his expertise, something for which we should be grateful. For us…not so much!

By the time Amanda was born in 1979, the hospital and staff had been ‘educated’. Fairfax Hospital (about the size of DHMC) actually had one birthing room (which was being used when we got there); but Dr. Hair, bless her heart, really did understand and support what we were trying to do. Amanda was born in the labor room with the lights low and only the Dr., a nurse and us in the room. We kept her and bonded with her for an hour or so before she was taken for her ‘real’ checkup and then returned tous. It really was progress:)

In contrast to our experience, Amanda had nurse mid-wives to coach and support her (and Kamal) though the whole process. The whole focus of the birthing center is to let the birth process happen in its own unique way; fast or slow, hard or less hard, whatever is best for the baby and mother, and to make sure their experience is as natural and glorious as it can be. The baby stays with the parents who continue to get as much support as they need from the nurse mid-wives, lactation specialist, pediatrician, or whomever. We all have become fans of the APD Birthing Center and especially of nurse mid-wives, a really special group of people.

Kitty's Plan

2009-08-12T17:42:00.000-07:00

My Aunt Kitty loved flowers. She thought of them as part of her legacy. She planned the flower gardens at this house so that something would bloom from before the snow was gone in the Spring until after the first snow fell in the Fall.

Since we moved here six years ago, we have gradually changed a few things and re-arranged others in the flower beds. Mary Lou has discovered a real talent and love for gardening. She says that she never gardened before because it was too hot in Virginia. Maybe, but some days I think it's all part of Kitty's Plan.

The flowers below are August flowers...this year and next and the one after that.

Doing the Right Thing: Fawn in the Flowers

2009-06-07T18:00:00.000-07:00

We had a visitor in our front yard a couple of days ago. I was weed-whacking and nearly took the nose off a deer fawn who was trying his best to survive by staying still.

In case you don't recognize them, the "bushes" the fawn is between are two clumps of daffodils. He was a little guy! Anyway the hardest thing to do was to leave the fawn alone -- if we touched it, it's mother would abandon him; if we left him over night and the doe didn't return, he would die from cold temps and dehydration. He stayed in his hiding spot all day which is a long time for a baby that is normally fed every three hours or so. Anyway, as darkness fell, we hoped that momma deer would come back to get the fawn.

I woke up early the next morning and went out to see...and found matted grass where the fawn had been. Fish & Game will always tell you to "let nature take it's course" when you find a small animal. In the long run, it is the right thing to do; but it is really hard sometimes.

Holiday Letter 2008

2008-12-23T09:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Family and Friends,

When Mary Lou suggested that I write a holiday letter, I was reluctant; I really didn’t think we had much to tell. Our ‘children’ are adults with families of their own, and our life seems pretty quiet and routine. And letters seem to have been replaced by blogs – sure saves paper if nothing else. Liz and Corey share their family celebrations and travails on theirs; Amanda hasn’t started a blog yet, but I’m sure she will at some point. Mine seems to be more about politics and the virtues of country living. This is a bit of an experiment; I’m already liking the idea that I don’t have to fit it on one page. :) Welcome to our first holiday-letter blog.

We have discovered that there is great virtue in ‘quiet and routine’; neither of us would return to the craziness and stress of suburbia under any circumstance we can imagine. We still keep a calendar, but it is less about tight schedules and more about the loss of a few gigs of personal memory. We have found great satisfaction in working for our community in various ways - maybe because we simply like to help others; maybe because in a small, rural community it is really possible to make a difference. Mary Lou has been attending an exercise class – Bone Builders – to prevent osteoporosis. It meets three times a week and has 10 to 25 participants on a regular basis. She leads the Saturday session and substitutes for the other leaders as needed. We are town webmasters of a sort: Mary Lou created the Town website www.plainfieldnh.org, and I developed the Historical Society site www.phsnh.org. There is much to be done with both so I’m taking a JavaScript class this winter – keeping the brain active is a good thing too. In the summer, we spend a lot of time in a large vegetable garden. We grow way more than we can use so we give the food away. Most of it goes to people who are no longer able to manage a garden – much gets canned or frozen for their winter use. In addition, I am on the Planning Board which has its own challenges in a Town which is evolving from a farming community to a bedroom community serving Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, Lebanon and Hanover. I’m a monitor for a local conservation easement. I help set up our poling place, and Mary Lou helps count the paper ballots for each election. We do feel like we belong here.

Our life is not all about the community. Obviously, we enjoy the fresh vegetables from our garden also. Sometimes we trade fresh blueberries or raspberries for a share of the jelly that our neighbor makes from them, and we press our apples to make fresh cider. I’m trying to learn the fine art of making hard cider (a New England tradition). At least I’ve finally found a use for all of Dad’s wine making equipment that we brought with us from Virginia. I ski and snow-shoe in the winter, and I am trying to be more enthusiastic about cross-country skiing. Cousin Bob and I hike and do a little trail maintenance for the Green Mountain Club (Vermont) in the summer. I hunt with another friend in the fall. It also takes a fair amount of time to maintain our place, but being on a tractor never seems like a waste of time to me. We’ve had nearly two feet of snow in the last three days; even with six hours or more of snow-blowing and shoveling, I think it’s beautiful. Of course, it’s the first snow of the winter; by the end of March, my enthusiasm may have dulled a bit. We do love the seasons, and we give thanks each day for being here.

In addition to our local endeavors, our favorite activity is visiting with our children and grandchildren. This year we made two trips to Texas and two trips to North Carolina. We also drove to Tennessee to help celebrate Aunt Ella’s 90th birthday (my father’s youngest sister). Mary Lou flew to Wisconsin to visit with Amanda and Kamal, and they have made three trips to New Hampshire.

Last February, Corey came to visit with Jackson and Miley. Jackson and I had a great time sledding, building a snow fort, and throwing snow balls. Miley was a little young for outdoor fun – she looked like an Ewok in the snow suit we got her. But we had a great time, and they plan to come back again this February. Jackson has decided he wants to be a ‘shredder’ so we’ll go snow-boarding when he is ready.

Last summer, we had everyone here for the 4th of July. Plainfield has an old-fashioned, small-town parade & barbeque. We also hosted the Read reunion (my mother’s family). Liz, Harlan, Christopher and Sammy stayed a few days so I took them in our RV to the White Mountains where we hiked & toured for a couple of days. We had such a great time (see the picture on their blog) that they plan to make it an annual trip.

Kamal has learned to be a ‘shredder’ (snow-boarder). He and I went skiing / boarding last week; unfortunately, Amanda was under the weather and couldn’t go with us. They spent a few days with us on each side of their trip to Mecca. They went on Hajj as is required of all Muslims. It was a very meaningful trip for them; and, with 2.5 million people from all over the world participating, we are glad that it went well and that they have returned home safely. Anyway, Kamal loves to snow board, and I am thrilled to have a son-in-law who likes snow. Actually, Harlan and Craig are thrilled also because they think I’ll stop trying to talk them into winter visits. :)

We hope you and your families have a great holiday season and a fantastic 2009!

With love to all,

Mike and Mary Lou

Hunting in New Hampshire

2008-11-22T13:24:00.000-08:00

When I got up at 5:00am, the thermometer said 18 degrees; it was dark; winds were supposed to pick up to 15mph for wind-chills of about 2 degrees. As I put on an extra layer of long-johns, it occured to me that there was no rational explanation for what I was about to do. I met Steve at his house at 6:00am, and we headed into the woods as dawn cracked the black sky. We had been hunting a small section of a large conserved area, and we had consistently seen deer or sign of deer, including a nice scrape (a small area where a buck had pawed the ground and left his scent to mark his territory). As we walked up the snow-mobile trail, the ground crunched under our feet and ice cracked where puddles had been, everything now covered with frost and a light dusting of snow. No point in trying to be quiet as we crunched throught the leaves and walked toward our stands. I found a downed tree with several large trunks/limbs, and I hunkerd down in the middle of them, sitting on one with a 30-06 across my lap. I had hemlocks to my right, oaks to my left, and the edge of a gully in front of me. It was quiet at first, a beautiful morning to be in the woods. A grouse rustled the leaves as it worked its way behind me; squirrels completed the ritual of finding acorns and burying them in the leaves; many would never be found again and would become new oaks as the years went by - mother nature's little helpers. After an hour or so, the wind picked up and gusted occasionally. I began to think about how long I would wait on this day before the cold would win, and I would head for home. And then I began to hear a different sound, the faint, rythmic crunch of a deer walking, muffled by the wind. I turned my head toward the noise and saw a beautiful buck walking up the gully straight at me; he had to see me...but he didn't. It all happens so quickly: I raised my rifle; I saw the deer in my scope; I pulled the trigger; the deer went down. And it was over. The deer's life had ended. The day's hunt ended. The hunting season ended. Fall ended. And I was greatful for a tradition which began for me some 50 years ago with my grandfather, uncles and cousins, and now continues with a good friend.

I'm sure that some of you see this as perfectly barbaric. If you are a vegetarian, I respect the moral stand you have taken. If you grill your hamburgers on Sunday afternoon, there is no moral high ground for you. Cows don't donate hamburg for your consumption any more than this deer donated venison to me; at least the deer lead a free and natural life, unlike the cattle being fattened in pens on their way to our freezers. What hunting does provide is an opportunity for me to participate in the life-cycle of which we are all a part and that participation brings a humbling appreciation for nature, a personal connection between me and the animal which will give me sustinance, and a reverence for life.

11-4-08 Part I

2008-11-05T10:43:00.000-08:00

It is hard for me to put into words the significance of this day, for me and for my country; but I need to try.

Part I:
There is a racial aspect for sure. I was raised to treat all people courteously but admonished that “lions and tigers are both cats, but they don’t mate.” In elementary school, I didn’t understand why my mother didn’t want me to go to my black friend’s house or why his mother was so nervous when I did. I didn’t understand why, in junior high in 1960–61, he became so angry when other boys called him ‘nigger.’ I moved to Virginia in 1965 as a senior in high school and was oblivious to the fact that Fairfax County Schools were integrated by court order that very year. I did learn…slowly. As a social studies teacher, I transferred to Fairfax High School in1972. When I went for my interview at this new school, I drove up Rebel Run and walked into the school foyer where the only display in the trophy case was a 4’ X 6’ rebel flag – the Stars and Bars. I think it was at that moment that I really began to understand. Later that year as my 11th grade classes explored ‘black history’, I will always remember a young lady, the only black student in the class, who described her experience in her sixth grade class (1967) where her teacher required her stand whenever she spoke and required her to address her white classmates as ma’am and sir when she spoke to them. Fast forward 15 years, and I was working with my former student’s mother in Human Resources; another 10 years and I was in charge of teacher recruitment for Fairfax County Schools, including minority recruitment. I spent a lot of time talking with members of the minority community who doubted that a middle-aged, white, bald guy could do that job. I am proud of the respect and support I received from our teachers and administrators and from recruiters from other school systems during that time. Fast forward another 10 years and there is Nov 4th and Barack Hussein Obama. I have always been proud of my country and its promise, and I have always believed in the power of Jefferson’s words in the Declaration of Independence and of King’s Dream. But we have struggled as a people and a nation to live up to that promise. I do not pretend to know how this day must feel to African-American families; but, today, I am so proud of the people of this country… I feel a sense of pride in being an American that I don’t remember feeling before, and it is a really, really great feeling!

Fall Is the Best

2008-10-12T15:14:00.000-07:00

Fall is my favorite season. Pictures never quite show the colors as they are. We have 'leaf peepers' who come for miles to see mother nature show her stuff; they are a source of tourist dollars that allow many of our businesses to survive, much like Christmas shopping at the mall for suburban stores. In fact we started a day trip to 'see the leaves', but we soon came home. When you have this as your front yard, why travel?!

Garden Bounty
We finally picked the last of our garden crop as we had two morning frosts this week. We gave much of our harvest away to folks we know in Plainfield, and we supplied the Grange supper with squash (butternut) which cousin Bob cooked with maple syrup and cinnamon. Ummmmmm Good! We kept as much potato, squash, carrots, and sunflower seeds as we think we can use. It's been a great year - very rewarding to see our crops grow and to be able to share our bounty.

Plainfield Apple Fest
Every fall Plainfield has an Apple Fest during the Columbus Day weekend. We went to a roast pork supper at the Grange Hall last night. There is a Maxfield Parrish print sale at the Town Hall. The church puts on an apple dessert fest -- all homemade. Today I took part in the Cemetery Tour where members of the Historical Society dress up as former residents of Plainfield and tell their stories. Visitors pay a fee to listen which helps the historical society put on other events. I was Dr. Charles Beckley who was the town doctor from 1854 to 1886. We don't have a lot of information about his daily life so I used Wikipedia to find out about medicine in the 19th century and talked about that and about sheep farming which dominated Plainfield agriculture from 1830 to 1865. It was fun. Other 'actors' presented a mid-wife, a tavern owner, a store owners wife, a Revolutionary soldier, and a 10 year old girl who hanged herself in the schoolhouse window. I think the people who came were surprised and had fun also.

Of Moose and Raccoons

2008-10-01T20:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday started out full of excitment. About 8:30am the dog started to bark...and bark...and bark. Finally I went to the window to see what the 'dumb dog' was barking at. I started yelling at Mary Lou, "Look out the window!" "Where's the camera?" A very healthy bull moose was standing in the field...ignoring the barking dog...and causing havoc inside the house. I ran for the camera and out onto the lawn to take pictures. Of course, by that time the moose was headed down our driveway. After he crossed the road, a small traffic-jam developed at the end of our drive as folks watched and took pictures. Eventually, he went up the hill into the woods. It was exciting. Moose are now common in northern New Hampshire and are becoming more common throughout the state, but it is unusual for most of us to actually see one.

Today we had quite a different animal experience. I had finished putting up some shelving, and I was taking my tools back to put them away. I opened the door to the garage and looked down to see a large fur ball on the step in front of me. Startled, I realized that it was a raccoon, curled up and rocking slightly as if in pain. I slammed the door, but the raccoon barely moved. Most of you probably know that a raccoon is a nocturnal animal which normally doesn't take a mid-day nap on a human's door mat. It was obvious in this case that the animal was very sick so I called police and then went to get a 22 rifle. Obviously, I couldn't shoot the animal in my garage (next to my wife's car!), but I planned to shoot it if it left the garage; I didn't want it to get back into the woods where it could spread rabies if that is what it had. Plainfield PD showed up in a few minutes, but the raccoon had moved by then. We spotted it on the other side of the garage (next to my truck). Officer Dore looped an animal control noose around its neck and dragged him out of the garage where we sent him on to raccoon heaven. Since he didn't have any human contact, the state won't test him for rabies; but we assume that is what he had. As directed by PD, I mixed a bottle clorox and water (about 50-50) and sprayed any place the raccoon had been. And then I began to think about all of the what ifs and could'as...that's the door we use to let the dog out...after dark, I might not have noticed... Seeing the moose was a lot more fun!

Nancy Pelosi Should Resign

2008-09-29T17:37:00.000-07:00

I’m an independent and an Obama supporter. I have very mixed feelings about the bailout plan. I believe that the bailout is necessary; but, like most Americans, my instinct is to let the folks on wall street boil in their own juices. The problem is that some of that juice comes from me; and, ultimately, it will be the folks who understand the financial markets the least who will suffer the most. Nancy Pelosi’s obligation today was to her country, not her party. Her obligation was to shepherd this bill through; she is the Speaker of the House of Representatives, not the Speaker of the democratic party. She understood how difficult this vote would be for many members of the House when public opinion is overwhelming opposed to the bailout. She understood that she was asking members to rise above simple politics and to lead…to vote for the good of the country. Yet she could not resist her need to place blame; she could not rise above simple politics herself. I don’t know if the current bailout proposal is as good as it should be, and I don’t know if Pelosi’s speech actually affected the vote. What I do know is that Pelosi showed a stunning lack of leadership today. She should resign.

When the End Justifies the Means, Honor Is Lost

2008-09-12T05:58:00.000-07:00

I am angry, even a little shocked, by what I see happening in the political campaign ads - especially from McCain. Every politician stretches reality a bit in their ads, but normally there is at least a thread of truth in them. What I see now is the notion that lying is OK, not stretching the truth but repeating lies over and over again with the notion that it will create doubt -- that the lies will stick in people's minds more than any attempt to expose the lies with the truth. Every national candidate has individuals or groups outside their campaigns which pay for distorted, 'issue' ads; but when the candidate himself (or herself) endorses this tactic - claims pride in this tactic - any pretext of honor is lost.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We live in a culture which rewards winning. Often, the little league mantra, "It's not whether you win or loose, it's how you play the game." , seems to be a fairy tale that adults tell to children. And then children learn the truth by watching how their parents play, how their leaders play, in the 'real' world. They watch a court system which rewards victory and hopes for justice; they watch financiers get rich by manipulating small investors (and without concern about causing people to loose their homes); they see companies rewarded by investors for growing the 'bottom line' without concern for product quality or working conditions or environmental impact; they watch governments defend human rights and practice torture; and they watch politicians take pride in manipulating voters in order to win. Even so, most of us see these things as abberations, as problems which are fixable. Most of us still believe that 'how you play the game' is important.

I can tell that I'm getting old; but, as frustrated as I get, I am still optomistic. I still believe that most people want to do right as opposed to wrong, to act honorably, to help their neighbors and to make their little piece of the world a better place. I want to see our political leaders that way also -- but its harder to do as ends justify means and honor is lost.

My Piece of the Long Trail

2008-09-11T19:01:00.000-07:00

Today was a beautiful day for trail-work. My cousin, Bob, and I are the maintainers of a 2.5 mile section of the Long Trail in Vermont (from Tucker-Johnson shelter to Elbow Road). That means that we go to 'our trail' two or three times a season to cut back brush or weeds, clean out the water bars (drainage channels), re-paint the blazes, cut trees that have fallen across the trail, re-work tread or whatever else is needed. Today was clear with temps in the 50's to around 60 - still short sleeve weather but cool enough to keep us from sweating too much and to keep the insects in hiding. Our section is about 1.5 miles from the road, just past 'Maine Junction' where the AT (Appalachian Trail) diverges from the Long Trail on its way through New Hampshire to its terminus in Maine at Mt. Katadin. Anyway, it makes for an 8 mile round trip plus whatever work we do. Today I used a 'swing blade' to cut back weeds and Bob used a 'hazel hoe' to clean and dig out water bars. Our section is in pretty good shape so it didn't take too long to do the work we needed to do.

Many people don't realize that the vast majority of hiking trails are maintained by volunteers - not by park or forest service maintenance crews. Probably some don't realize that trails are in fact 'maintained', but mother nature abhors a vacuum. Every tree or bush or briar competes for sunlight. Since the trail is open space, the vegetation tries to go there. And water flows best unimpeded by undergrowth so it flows across and down the trail; the wind and snow and ice storms bring down trees and branches which block the trails. All of those forces have to be managed or the trails simply close up, rut up or otherwise become unusable. Taking a couple of days a season to help keep the trails open for all to enjoy is a way to give back to the trail community -- a 'thank-you' for all of the hours and miles of enjoyment we get from hiking.

When I got home, I took a nap! I was tired, but it felt good to be outside, enjoy nature, and do some good for our small piece of the world.

The Problem with Nuance

2008-08-18T05:21:00.000-07:00

There is something about human nature that likes certainty. Right vs. wrong. Good vs. evil. A bird in the hand vs two in the bush -- even if the bird you hold craps all over you. Decisions are easy if you see the world in absolutes, I guess. I really don't know because my world is filled with colors and shades of gray, not black and white. The problem with absolutes is that you can be absolutely certain and absolutely wrong. We have a president who has been both on many occasions. We have congressional leaders who present the world as Democrat or Republican -- good or evil; and when they do, I know it's a ploy; it's about power and control, not about solving problems. Problems are never simple and clear with certain solutions; if they were, they wouldn't be problems in the first place. So for me, nuance is about the world as it really exists; certainty and absloutes are about fantasy and manipulation.

So...when I listened to Obama and McCain with Rev. Warren, I am most comfortable with Obama because I think like he thinks. I see nuance as reality. But McCain presents the world in black and white; his solutions are clear (and often wrong); he offers certainty. That worries me.

Keeping it Rural

2008-08-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

I read a post at http://fuglyhorseoftheday.blogspot.com/ about the conflicts in rural community when city folk (we call them flatlanders) move in because they love the country and then try to get rid of everything that made it country in the first place. Not long ago a gal from NJ moved to town. Seems that a local woman had ridden her horse down the side of the road in front of this woman's house, and the horse had pooped on the edge of the road (imagine that!). Our NJ newcomer wanted the town fathers to make the rider come back and clean it up -- carry a pooper-scooper with her in the future! After they stopped laughing...the town fathers and neighbors suggested that if she wanted to live in that kind of community, she probably ought to move back to NJ; and within a couple of months, she had -- best for her and best for us.

The problem, of course, is that small towns can't prevent change. Unlike the NJ gal, most will not 'go back where they came from.' So the best we can do is try to manage change in a way that protects the things that make us rural -- open space, agriculture, scenic views, wildlife, clean water, etc. When I say 'manage' I'm thinking about zoning. For many locals, especially in NH where the state motto is 'Live Free or Die', zoning is what the flatlanders use to ruin the community -- as in the Green Acres post on Fugly -- and they fight it like crazy. But in addition to protecting open space, wetlands, and historic buildings, zoning can be used to define what is permitted - like agriculture. Including agriculture using BMPs as a 'permitted use' helps to establish the community's expectation that animals (and manure) and tractors are a welcome part of 'rural' where we think that buying local fresh milk, meat, vegetables and fruit is part of healthy living. Including Best Management Practices (BMPs) sets an expectation that farms will contribute to a healthy community. Zoning is not a perfect solution; but, if we don't make our own rules, the flatlanders will make them for us.