Monthly Archives: July 2017

Mythical Creatures

Posted by Jul 8, 2017 Travel Leave a Comment

When you first enter Atlantis one cannot help but look up in awe at the magnificent fountains, the giant pillars, the imagined murals and tapestries depicting former Atlantean life, and — most of all — the enormous circular tank full of sea creatures that swim all around you, fed by the ocean’s natural currents.  I do not normally condone animals in captivity ever.  Sadly, some places like zoos and wildlife preserves have now become our last bastions for trying to save and/or revive entire animal species.  With overhunting, overfishing, overpopulation, pollution, and flagrant disregard for land conservation and water protection, some of these “parks” ironically have become our final hope in many ways.  Wildlife needs wilderness; wild spaces and wild places for them to not merely survive but to thrive.  The legendary French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau said:

We must plant the sea and herd its animals using the sea as farmers instead of hunters.  That is what civilization is all about – farming replacing hunting.

That is exactly how Atlantis felt to me … like a great farming “civilization” rather than a hunting one.  I was thrilled to discover Atlantis protects their wildlife and has even pioneered breeding programs for some of the ocean’s native sea creatures there.  As someone who will never support places like Sea World, I felt Atlantis seemed to be for the perpetuation of species, and their breeding programs put sea animals back out into the ocean where they belong.  The next morning we walked down to breakfast through a winding trail of beautiful native foliage.  Dotted along the way were whimsical, mystical ocean touches, and even an open shallow pool for live conchs.  Right outside our window we watched the stingrays having their breakfast while we had ours.  I would like to believe such a civilization can exist … where mankind and animals live together in harmony and prosperity.  Like the the critically endangered red wolves, the rare black panthers, and the vulnerable white rhinos, I do not want to see our precious, priceless wildlife reduced for future generations into nothing more than mythical creatures.

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Atlantis

Posted by Jul 7, 2017 Travel Leave a Comment

It is the fictional island mentioned within an allegory on the hubris of nations in two of Plato’s works, with Atlantis eventually becoming swallowed by the sea.  The history lover in me wishes Atlantis did in fact exist.  I have always found it to be an intrigue.  After all, Pompeii was a lost civilization a volcano allowed us to see completely frozen in time.  Could the ocean not hold a preserved one as well?  Man has not solved all history’s mysteries (for instance, Noah’s Ark) and there are more waiting to be found.  During spring break last year, my father-in-law took the three of us on our first paternal family vacation to Atlantis the resort.  My husband is his eldest child and our daughter of course is his granddaughter.  I would say he has spent a lot of his life in the Bahamas but he had never been to this resort.  Frankly I do not think we could have ever afforded to go without him.  But more importantly, we were truly sorry to see him leave three days later while he graciously allowed us to stay two more.  Some may pooh-pooh large, all-inclusive resorts but I quickly learned their merit.  The American poet Charles Olson, who described himself not so much as a poet but as “an archeologist of morning” once wrote, “Atlantis will rise again.”  I have repeatedly teased my husband, who enjoys myths such as Bigfoot and theories about aliens and I felt guilty that when it was something in which I would like to believe I found it quite fascinating.  Ever since I was a kid and watched Aquaman on Saturday morning cartoons I have fallen in love with the idea of Atlantis.  Aquaman could breathe unassisted underwater and, even cooler, he could telepathically communicate with the all of the sea’s creatures.  Of course his character is fictional.  The Greeks, however were divided as to whether or not Plato’s story of the powerful and advanced kingdom which sank into the ocean in a night and a day was history or metaphor.  More recent times have suggested possible historical locations, most commonly the Greek Island of Santorini, which was destroyed by a volcanic eruption around 1,600 B.C.  For those of you who have not been, allow me to take you into a world where “archaeology,” “history,” and myth mingle with “artifacts,” “pictographs” and living sea creatures surrounded by great pillars, magnificent fountains, and majestic looking towers all soaring impressively above the blue green sea … Atlantis.

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Landing On The Landing

Posted by Jul 6, 2017 Family Leave a Comment

My whole life I just wanted to have a two story house.  I had these visions of coming down the stairs on Christmas morning to discover prettily wrapped presents under a shimmering tree.  We may not have a grand staircase, but we have a beautiful two story house for which we are exceedingly grateful.  Our little landing seems to be the point of popularity amongst our household.  Pictured here is Dakota, surrounded by five of our little one’s toy cats.  For the record our real cats enjoy it as well, I suppose because it lends a pretty good vantage of our house between the skylights in the roof and what’s going on downstairs.  Navigating it, though, is a whole other story.  Our male wolfie is about 6’4″ tip to tail and thinks he’s a tiny lap “dog.”  Our little one has taken to playing here despite my repeated grumblings that I am going to topple over onto my head one of these days.  And then I thought to myself, every time I go up or down I am treated to love.  It’s either from a sleeping cat who wants to nuzzle, one of the wolfies who wants a pat, or a charming vignette left behind by our child.  How blessed I am to have not just a house but really the love that makes it a home.  The famed Japanese poet Matsuo Basho said, “Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”  For me every day is a journey landing on the landing.

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How We Handle It That Counts

Posted by Jul 5, 2017 Sustenance Leave a Comment

Not being a huge beer drinker, I have never quite understood the preoccupation with the precise way one is supposed to tilt the glass just so, or maybe it’s the bottle, when pouring beer.  I know it’s got something to do with not wanting to have the foam.  All my mind goes to is Julie Andrew’s heavenly voice in The Sound Of Music singing, “Men drinking beer with the foam afloat heard …” Doesn’t the foam just go back down?  It’s not as if it dissipates into the air.  *shrug*  I have stopped offering to pour my husband’s beer because he … makes … me … go … SO … SLOW!!!  Holy cow it’s not like it’s a fine wine that needs to be aerated or something.  Anyhow, before I went to write this I decided to enjoy my French beer 1664.  I quickly dumped it into my glass and this was the result.  Perhaps this was too much foam because it spilled over.  Suddenly I found myself sticking my fingers in the foam to get it to go down.  (I suspect it’s sad I consider that a science trick.)  Anyhow, I do NOT like to waste.  I don’t care WHAT it is — paper towels, water, food, electricity, money, or anything else.  Maybe because my folks were both born during the Great Depression Era (the early 1930’s) so it was always ingrained upon me never to waste no matter what.  I think it is actually a practice everyone should follow.  We all share finite resources and the earth is precious.  For that matter so is time.  I have written before my father used to say that time was the one thing he could not replace.  From a glass of beer my thoughts have made their way to how we live our lives.  Do we go so cautiously we never fully experience it?  Or do we move through it so recklessly we waste it?  Perhaps shouldn’t it be somewhere in-between?  The American radio speaker Earl Nightingale once said:

“Learn to enjoy every minute of your life.  Be happy now.  Don’t wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future.  Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether it’s at work or with your family.  Every minute should be enjoyed and savored.”

I suppose one way or another our lives get foamy.  It’s all in how we handle it that counts.

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Colors Burst

Posted by Jul 4, 2017 History Leave a Comment

It was the Fourth of July, the day the United States celebrates its independence.  This night brought me back to a brief time in my life when I did not have a care in the world.  Summers were giddy affairs riding my Big Wheel, climbing trees, smelling freshly mown grass, and listening to the sound of cicadas.  Anything was possible.  I want to extend that as long as I can for my child.  When I was young my father had a bad accident after being forced to work in dangerous conditions.  Things became more and more difficult after that.  My parents tried to shield me but I knew.  I was so sheltered and yet very aware of harsh reality.  I learned first hand how people treat others who are rich and how the poor are treated.  I have met people without a lick of common sense who are wealthy and I have met some truly brilliant people who are poor.  Why does society equate money with success?  I grew up strong and secure in a loving family and we were truly happy.  No one was drinking or popping pills despite terrible hardship.  Another adjustment in my life came when I learned my grandmother was Choctaw.  I became angry.  Angry with a white society that had for centuries devalued that particular race of people more than any other.  It is a duality I have yet to fully accept — neither wolf nor dog.  Once I asked my daddy how he could celebrate the Fourth.  He turned his vivid, dark blue eyes on me and said his grandfather escaped from Germany hidden in a pig boat during the war.  My father fought in Korea for eight years and was awarded with distinction without once bragging about it.  But he was proud to be American and especially proud to be an American Indian veteran.  Not many realize the original “Code Talkers” were actually Choctaw, beginning their service in World War I.  The Navajo Code Talkers’ invaluable contributions helped us win World War II.  For years I have watched in awe at pow wows’ Grand Entries, heard the Flag Songs of many different (Indian) nations, and have seen the pride on the Native American faces who have served in the United States military.  My child may be more Caucasian than American Indian but she will still know her history, and the history of her people.  On this carefree night I thought deeply about our nation’s past and how I will begin to gently start presenting it to my child.  As I watched her happily playing with these lit necklaces I decided there are some things that can wait.  I am teaching her Indian ways most whites know nothing about, but right now I think that is all she needs to know.  The American singer Katy Perry’s hit “Firework” was playing as the fireworks began.  My daughter loves this song.  Among the song’s lyrics it says, “‘Cause baby you’re a firework; Come on show them what you’re worth.”  I thought it was so fitting.  My baby is a firework — and she will let her colors burst.

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I Want Her To Soar

Posted by Jul 3, 2017 Family Leave a Comment

When I was pregnant, one of the first things I did was to buy a little painted bookshelf for the baby.  My husband and I tried to make a date night each week where, after dinner, we would visit the bookstore to slowly build a small collection for her.  We both love to read so we really looked forward to going.  As we began placing books on the little shelves I realized we were really filling her library with our loves, our hopes, and dreams we had for her.  We bought favorites from my youth like Madeline, a sweet daily devotional entitled Give Me Grace and our old dinosaur books even managed to find their way in.  When she was first born we read to her each night but let’s face it, we also read for ourselves.  To this day my husband’s favorite book of hers is One Ted Fell Out Of Bed.  Now that she is older, we have infrequently resurrected our old bookstore date nights (party of three now,) proud that she loves exploring the shelves even though she is really just beginning to read.  On this night I decided to head down to the cigar shop and let them have a daddy/daughter date.  When we met back our little one came running up to me saying, “MAMA!  MAMA!  LOOK WHAT DADDY BOUGHT ME!”  My husband, with a slight blush, told me it was in the clearance bin.  She could not stop chattering about the precious box she held full of ten plastic, colored, winged ponies.  At least she came out with a book I thought, as the story was inside the box.  I tried to follow the unGodly complex lineage and storyline of these creatures — I really did.  But My Little Pony is more complicated than a soap opera!  My head began to pound after almost half an hour of earnest listening.  And then I realized her father had let HER choose her own book, allowing her to read about interests she has developed all by herself.  The American novelist Lauren Myracle said, “Ideas matter.  The world matters.  Our lives matter, and the choices we make as we navigate our lives perhaps matter most of all.”  My parents empowered me to make my own choices.  That is my fervent wish for my child.  I don’t want to clip her rainbow pony wings; I want her to soar.

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Kindness Begins From Within

Posted by Jul 2, 2017 Food Leave a Comment

This gluten-free pasta tastes JUST like spaghetti!  One cannot even tell the difference, particularly once you add garlic and olive oil as I did here.  The family went wild!  It is made from a combination of quinoa and corn.  Our little girl being gluten intolerant has been a blessing in disguise for our whole family.  We are eating healthier and not missing out on anything but calories really.  Thankfully there are many gluten-free options now in grocery stores as well as restaurants.  We are very fortunate in that we still can enjoy pizza, pasta, rolls, muffins, cake, and more now that so many things are being made gluten-free.  Best of all, they do not taste like cardboard.  Now she can have a “normal” looking sandwich at school and not be made to feel different.  I have also discovered that people who are truly considerate make sure that children with allergies do not feel left out at birthdays.  My little one went to a birthday party several months ago where they had literally two giant towers of pizza — 25 cheese and 25 pepperoni — and not one of them was gluten free.  I was next to her as she stood staring up at all those pizza boxes with tears streaming silently down her little face.  Of course there were no gluten-free cupcakes either.  The irony is that pizza chain made gluten-free pizza!  How hard would it have been to order just one gluten-free?  Since then I have learned to bring her own snacks in case nothing is offered.  But it is so much nicer when she feels the same as all the other kids.  The South Sudanese-British model and designer Alek Wek said, “True beauty is born though our actions and aspirations and in the kindness we offer to others.”  I am thankful for the moms who have been considerate enough to show my daughter kindness.  I hope I am leading by example; I always want her to see that kindness begins from within.

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Snapshots Of The Past

Posted by Jul 1, 2017 Family 2 Comments

When I was little my mother would line me up in front of just about anything and take my picture.  I feel certain that somewhere in an album there is a picture of me looking all 1970’s taken at this very spot.  Only instead of a dark-eyed, curly-haired little girl I was a green/blue eyed, and strawberry-blonde little girl with straight hair and crooked bangs because my mother cut them herself.  I became resigned to her beginning most of our outings by taking a picture.  I have come to see she was really an archivist; preserving my childhood for me thanks to her love of taking pictures.  I remember thinking the place in this picture was so swanky as a kid.  I could not believe my little one when she remarked it was “fancy.”  Funny how somethings retain their stature while others fade with the passing of time.  It’s also funny how big things seem when you’re little and how small they seem once you’re an adult.  Time seems to move so slowly as a kid (waiting for a birthday or a holiday takes FOREVER) and yet when you’re grown they all seem to speed by.  How I cherish all the pictures my mother took.  They are a moment in time captured forever.  It’s quite amazing when you stop and think about it.  The American photographer Aaron Siskind once said:

“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving.  What you have caught on film is captured forever … it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.”

I am thankful for photographs; they are snapshots of the past.

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