The View from Here

This and That Other Thing...

My father often complained that I just wouldn’t shut up. I suppose I must have talked before I could walk- an assumption based on the fact that I weighed eleven pounds and had short little legs, so they probably couldn’t support me until they had developed some major muscles. But the mouth…I can see that as a genetic fait de accompli…who on the Simmons side of the family didn’t see that coming? Seriously. I admit that I was a handful and often talked too much at the wrong time for the wrong reason about the wrong thing. However, my father quickly learned that my silence could be a bad thing. He was known to comment that if I was quiet I was either “sick”, “pouting”, or “up to something”.

Someone commented recently that I have been relatively “quiet” with regard to my blog and FB and even some emails. I assure you that although I have been both “sick” and “up to something”…well actually several somethings...I have also been remarkably happy for an old woman who seems to be wearing out and I have not been pouting about much of anything. My comparative silence is mostly the result of brain overload and time shortage. There are a dozen ideas, topics, opinions, questions, and plans floating around up there and some of them will make it to the page eventually. In the meantime, here is a hint of what is competing for my daily attention:

1. THE BOOK- Yes, I’ve completed 400+ pages. I spent four hours yesterday inserting maps, photos, charts, lists, etc. Whew, and WHEW! Love, love, love this project and very happy with how it has turned out. HOWEVER, I am paranoid about errors, page breaks, and clarity. So I will be editing and reviewing for at least a few more days before I release my grip on it.
2. The environment... What happened to winter? What IS “shade grown coffee”? What in the world is “transitional organic”? Is my body going to get even with me for using herbicides in the past? Can I create a beautiful garden that also improves my local environment?
3. WHY am I still fat despite a very good diet and lots of exercise? I eat TOO MUCH! Simple solution…STOP doing that. Working on it…
4. Totally squeamish about this leg work. Faced down a lot of major surgeries and procedures in the past. These coming up are causing me a bit of anxiety. Working on my “happy place” and faith in God’s plan. Getting there.
5. What is WRONG with people??? I’ve had some moments lately when I’ve just thought “Be quiet Mary, because I told you so would just sound so arrogant right now.”
6. Too much information. There are a dozen new things I want to learn and I’m reading every evening about something, but my ability to retain is not what it used to be. I have six articles in the works and three “projects”.
7. Joy. The recent photos of proms and sports and Easter celebrations have been such a joy to see! One of the reasons why I love FB is because so many of our family members and friends are scattered all over the country.
8. Time. There is never quite enough and in five minutes I’m supposed to be out the door…so later…I promise to write soon.

Garden Envy

Yesterday I had the privilege of visiting the lovely and well-established garden of a dear friend.  I love older gardens because they have had time to develop their own character and design. Experienced gardeners know that what you plant isn’t always what the garden accepts and allows to flourish. Soil and sun and space determine a garden’s personality. As gardeners we have our preferences, and we tend to buy certain types of plants or attempt to create specific habitats, but in the end we bow to nature…you can’t grow cactus in a swamp.

So although I love certain plants, I know they aren’t going to grow where I currently garden. To enjoy some of them I have to visit someone else’s garden, and I’m perfectly willing to do so. Call me and I’ll be there tomorrow with my camera! (Unless getting there involves airplanes.LOL)

You would think that visiting an older, better, prettier garden would cause me at least a bit of jealousy. However, the only emotion I felt yesterday was joy. I was just so grateful to share in the beauty of spring with someone who works the soil with creativity, patience and determination.

I hope all of you who dig in the dirt are enjoying your best spring ever…and I hope you have the opportunity to visit someone else’s garden.

Easter Memories

This photo wasn't taken at Easter, but I wore the same outfit that year.

Part of the Simmons family in California.

Mom's Springer family in Oklahoma.

I’ve been thinking of hats and eggs and chocolate bunnies this morning. I’m reading the real Easter story in my Bible this week, but I can’t help recalling some wonderful family celebrations that involved all the usual commercial, traditional trappings of the holiday. There is no escaping that we are quite capable of being saints and sinners at the same time, and embracing the sacred and the superficial with the same heart. So I make no apologies for my memories. I simply share them with you.

My parents and siblings in Oklahoma;Gran visiting from CA. 

Oh, Say Can You Sing...

Okay, this is a test. Can you sing “Battle Hymn of the Republic”? How many verses?

Someone recently asked me if students still say the pledge of allegiance in class. I told them I can’t speak for anyone else, but the ones in my classroom said the pledge each day. However, what has been missing from the daily school schedule for many years is patriotic songs. Okay, I’m sure there are schools where someone still leads their class in “It’s a Grand Old Flag” or “The Star Spangled Banner”, but I’m betting that “Yankee Doodle” and “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” are forgotten oldies.

When I was a youthful student we sang patriotic songs in our regular classroom, each day, and learned more than the first verse. In addition to the ones mentioned above, I remember singing “God Bless America”, “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” (aka America) and others like “Home on the Range”. At one school that I attended there was a group of young cadets who wore uniforms, raised the flag each day, and participated in school programs.

Music has the power to inspire and unite us so I hope there are a few teachers out there who are still using that power in their classroom.

Good memories, but now I can't stop humming...

Mary Lives Here

I spent a little time in the yard this morning- mowing, weeding, hanging new feeders, and admiring the poppies. This is the best time in the garden, when it’s warm and wonderful, before it becomes hot and humid and sometimes horrid. I love to be outside. I love to dig in the dirt. I love to see things bloom. But mostly I like to look at the yard and know that I’ve made a difference. And I like to share that difference with you!

45 Years

Today marks forty-five years of marriage for us. We’re going to go to Hagerman this morning, the gym this afternoon, and then a quiet dinner at our favorite restaurant. We planned our activities today, but yesterday was really the best example of why we are still together.

Yesterday we arose at different times, ate breakfast at different times, and completed our own daily routines until about 9:30. Then we went to the local library where I did a little research while Gary browsed reference books about airplanes, and then we checked out books to read.

Next we went to Walmart for our weekly grocery shopping “adventure”. We make a good team- reading labels, considering items for health benefits, and discussing cooking options. I eat a pescetarian diet and Gary is a “meat and potatoes” guy, with emphasis on the meat, but he is mindful of having a healthier diet.

We ate lunch together, at home. We rarely eat at a restaurant for lunch, and avoid “fast food” joints like the plague. After lunch we watched the birds, read for a little while, and then worked on some projects outside.

Gary drilled holes in a couple of tubs that I bought for our patio tomato plants. I planted the tomatoes and a few flowers. He worked in the garage, but came back to the yard a couple of times to check on me and to see the flowers.

Throughout the day we discussed politics, history, our children, the neighbor’s new project, the local news, our plans for today and our current health conditions. We spent the rest of the afternoon on separate pastimes- I write, he works on airplane models. Finished the day with dinner together, a little more reading, and television…enjoyed Amazing Race.  

Just an ordinary day, but those are the foundation of a relationship. If you like each other and enjoy your ordinary days together then it makes the happy “event” days even more enjoyable and the crisis days endurable. We’re looking forward to many more ordinary days together, especially now that both of us are retired.

First Poppy

This has been a week of wild weather, but today the sky was sunny, the air was warm, and the day was filled with little blessings. I planted tomatoes, heather, and leopard’s bane. I found a sleeping tortoise beneath the brush pile. I discovered that the yellow tulips are finally blooming. Then I walked around the corner and saw this beauty…first poppy. Be still my heart!

I love poppies and I’ve grown them in each garden that I’ve had for the past twenty years. My dad loved them too, and we often shared seeds. There is something so delicate about them, and yet they are tough plants and often survive the wind and heat of Oklahoma far better than other blooms. By the way, I always plant these in the fall.

If you haven’t tried poppies I highly recommend them.

Natural Beauty

This morning I transcribed an amusing article for my education book. It’s about an edict presented to the girls of Durant High School in 1921 regarding their liberal use of cosmetics. “No more lipsticks, eyebrow pencils, rouge, heavy powder, paint or any extravagant use of beautifying cosmetics for high school girls…It is the purpose of the faculty to instruct the girls of the Durant High School in proper dress and manners,” Miss Goodman said, “and to cultivate a taste for natural and genuine beauty rather than to allow the girls to grow up with a distorted idea of these primary essentials.” I don’t imagine Miss Goodman was a very popular teacher that year. She also objected to shaved eyebrows and added “beauty spots”. She would no doubt have a stroke if she walked through a high school today!

It’s ironic that “painted faces” are so willingly, even enthusiastically accepted by women. After all, the basic concept of decoration and adornment is that the object underneath isn’t “good enough” by itself. I always wondered about the idea that “beautiful young virgins” were gathered for King Ahasuerus and yet they required “beauty preparations” before being presented to him.  Then in the New Testament women are admonished that beauty should not be “that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel” but rather be the inner beauty of the heart.

My mother was the quintessential example of that conflict of ideals. She was kind and sincere and loving. She was also strong, motivated, and capable of doing almost anything she set her mind to…but she was reluctant to do it without makeup. When I was a small child I just accepted that Mom always “looked good”. Even if we were headed out to chop cotton she seldom left the house without at least a quick swipe of lipstick. And she never served breakfast without styling her hair first. As I got older I realized that she arose at least half an hour before the rest of the household so she could do her grooming.

My mother’s generation seldom went anywhere without a compact and a tube of lipstick. Every magazine and television ad told them to be beautiful and be prepared. Mom had an antique dresser with a huge mirror and dozens of beauty products. However, she never seemed vain or self-absorbed. I think she considered her grooming routine more of a responsibility than an enjoyable experience. And she was always careful about the money she spent on cosmetics. She loved the little samples given out by the Avon lady, but she also shopped at the local drugstore and once or twice we went to the big department store downtown for a sale.

I stopped wearing makeup many years ago because I found myself devoting far too much time to worrying about it. Mascara created problems for my eyes. Lipstick turned strange colors and ended up on my coffee cup. Foundation melted off in our hot, humid climate. I found myself glancing in the mirror about ten times a day to see if I looked like a clown. So one day I just washed my face and met the world with my natural beauty. Okay, that statement made me laugh too. Even when I was young and better looking I never thought of myself as a “beauty”. Young girls just naturally find fault with everything they see in the mirror…which is probably why they have the urge to cover up every perceived fault with makeup. The reality was that my transition to sans-makeup took at least a week. The first day I was certain that someone would make a rude comment or ask me if I was ill. By the end of the week I was so thrilled with my new-found freedom from the mirror that I didn’t care what anyone else thought or said.

Beauty is certainly in the eye of the beholder, and each of us has to decide what we want to see in the mirror. I don’t think anyone should dictate our beauty choices once we reach adulthood. However, I think it’s important to guide our young women carefully and make sure they understand that cosmetics are optional and should be worn because of personal desire and enjoyment. I don’t want any young woman that I know to think that she can’t be beautiful without them.

Through the looking glass...

I happened upon this blurry bunny photo yesterday and was amused and entertained for several minutes by the memories evoked by it. Sometime in the sixties I got my first camera and began viewing the world through a little glass square in the top of a box camera. The photo of the bunny and half a dozen others were taken for a science project. I don’t remember the details of the project, but I do remember the rabbits and my science teacher and a rather exiting trip to the science fair that involved formaldehyde spilling in the back of his station wagon. One of my classmates had chicks in glass jars…a recipe for disaster.

Just this past week I read this little item about the Caddo High Science Club in the 1939 issue of the newspaper: “Nina Faye Crossett presented a history of photography…Soon the photographers will have their developing outfit and then watch what you do because there will be plenty of picture taking going on.” Though I wasn’t even thought of in 1939, I do have experience in the darkroom and the “developing outfit” comment was a reminder of those days. I was never quite comfortable with the chemicals and smells and procedures of film developing, but I did it, and most of the time I was pleased with the results.

I wish I could have listened to Nina’s presentation of the history of photography. I’ve heard professors expound about the evolution of the camera and the significance of photography in capturing dramatic moments in history, but I can only imagine the enthusiasm of someone about to be turned loose with a camera on her campus. I surprised a few of my classmates with photos from dances, sporting events, and the playground. I took pictures of teachers and even a few buildings. I never questioned why I took pictures…I just did.

Gary and I have talked many times about how photography has changed just during our lifetime. I remember the excitement of getting color prints instead of black and white. I suffered many a burned finger from “flash cubes”. I recall saving my pennies and often waiting months to have film developed. When I bought a Polaroid it seemed like magic! But no matter how much the equipment and the procedures have changed over the years, the thrill of looking through a lens and the memories evoked by photos are still the same.  I suppose that’s why cell phone cameras are so popular. People never tire of preserving the events of their lives.

I have boxes and boxes of old prints, some that aren’t any better than this bunny shot. Now I also have files and files of digital images that I’m proud to say I captured. If I get to the stage where I can’t look through a lens I can certainly spend hours remembering the days when I could.

Fire and Water

I consider myself part of a transition generation that has adapted to technology but never truly embraced it. We are resistant, but not ignorant. We applaud some of the changes made possible by innovation, but are appalled by others. We’re still young enough to adapt, but wise enough to know when we shouldn’t.  I have a computer, but still go to the library to do some of my research. I have a cell phone, but don’t need it turned on 24/7. I still read paper books. I watch movies on my television. I listen to music from a CD. I take pictures with a real camera. I know. I am old fashioned and I wear the label proudly. So I was very pleased recently when I noticed a decidedly “old-fashioned” activity touted on Facebook by a multitude of different generations.

While some of you were globe trotting and beach lounging during spring break, others took their families or friends to the woods, the mountains, or the lake to enjoy the benefits of fire and water. I find it reassuring that in an age when society is determined to become more and more dependent on chips and pixels, the first choice of relaxation for some millennials is a return to the lifestyle of the caveman. It made me very happy to see so many selfies taken in front of campfires and tents! Even the ones from cabins and motor homes represented at least a bit of an encounter with nature.

When we lived in California we did a lot of camping. It was our primary escape from the chaos of the city. The mountains and lakes and ocean were equally distant from our home in the valley, and it was a cheap activity for a family. Other than the purchase of a tent and a few pieces of equipment we had only the expense of traveling to our destination. And camping didn’t require a lot of complicated planning…we were essentially just playing, eating, and sleeping in a different location. But there was something almost magical about eating dinner beneath a mammoth pine tree or on top of a huge boulder. And watching the glowing flames of a campfire was mesmerizing. I look back on some of those outings as the best experiences of our lives.

Gary and I aren’t likely to spend the night in a tent anymore, but we did sit at a picnic table by the lake last Sunday afternoon and watch the ducks float on the water. We were surrounded on all sides by a variety of recreational vehicles and even a tent or two. There were children exploring a sand bar and a couple fishing from the rocks. Wood was stacked up next to one of the fire pits in preparation for the evening. And although I’m sure they were tucked away somewhere, I didn’t see one cell phone or laptop in use.

It seems inevitable that we are headed toward some kind of “cradle to grave” computer app that will control every aspect of our lives, but I won’t live to see it. Oh, I’ll make a few more transitions and accept a few more gadgets into my life before I’m ninety. In the meantime it’s nice to know that even some of those who have never known life without a screen enjoy the pleasures of camping. Perhaps they will make sure their grandchildren have the same opportunities.