The View from Here

Garden in July

Good Intentions

It’s always my intention to write a blog post each day.

But then I don’t…

Even though I’m awake at 4am each day, that doesn’t mean I can accomplish all the goals I set for myself.

Sometimes I become involved in writing something else or doing research or reading old newspapers.

Sometimes I have so much I’d like to say…I can’t get my thoughts organized into something that makes sense.

Sometimes I don’t have anything to say. Well, at least not anything new. I’m a creature of habits and systems and schedules, and I fear that at times I’m quite boring.

Gary and I briefly discussed our lifestyle differences at lunch yesterday. We had watched an HGTV show called “Hot Mess House”. The premise is that an expert saves a couple from extreme chaos by getting rid of most of the useless stuff they’ve accumulated. They take the essentials that remain and create a workable storage system for them so that the couple can live happily ever after in organized bliss. Sounds great! However, I seriously doubt if that ever happens. Most people return to their personal organizational style over and over again, even if their circumstances change. Gary intends to be neat and organized, especially after we move to a different house, but it never lasts long. I’m sometimes too organized and it bothers me to see things out of place.

It’s also my daily intention to exercise for an hour. I’m getting better and better, but I’m not there yet. I give myself a pat on the back for a minimum of 30 minutes at home, 3x a week and a solid hour at the gym, 3x a week. Only my own “busyness” and forgetfulness is keeping me from accomplishing my goal. I’m confident that if I keep intending, I’ll get there.

My most important daily intention is to be useful to others. I look for ways to use my research and writing skills to inform, encourage, and entertain people, especially those who are interested in history. I’m not sure I did any of those today, but I had good intentions.

Hot Summer Nights

I slept soundly last night…blessed by an air conditioner set at 75 degrees, and an oscillating fan circulating that cool air across our bedroom. This morning, while I waited for my cup of coffee to brew, I thought about the early years of my childhood when air conditioning was a luxury I seldom encountered. Our school wasn’t air conditioned and our house certainly wasn’t. We had fans to circulate air, but that air was seldom more than a few degrees cooler in the shade of the house than it was in the bright sunlight of the yard. My grandmother had a “swamp cooler”. By forcing air over water-logged pads, it cooled the air by ten to twenty degrees. I would have gladly spent the summer at Gran’s. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before we could afford one. Of course, keeping it filled with water then became one of my summer chores.

                My parents grew up with much more primitive conditions. Mom often told me stories of sleeping with a wet wash cloth on her face. Dad’s childhood home had a small screened “sleeping porch” where they usually slept. Thinking about that makes me wonder how the previous generation, or any of our ancestors for that matter, accomplished so much when they must have spent a great deal of time feeling hot and miserable. Were they stronger people? Or did they just endure because there wasn’t any other option?

                I not only have air conditioning, but I have a weather forecast that allows me to plan some necessary chores. I have the option of wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Our ancestors, especially women, wore twice as many clothes, and many wore hosiery every day. Machines do half of my work. I don’t have to hang clothes on the line and then go back to retrieve them. Even my truck is air-conditioned, so I travel in comfort when I must go out.

                I’m thankful this morning that my coffee is the only thing in my office that is hot. Praying that you are also cool and comfortable.

Traditions of Summer

                I spent some time this weekend vicariously enjoying the Fourth of July celebrations of family members and friends. Gary and I no longer grill meat or set off fireworks or swim at the lake, but we love to see that the traditions of summer are being perpetuated by the next generations. We have fond memories of summer camp, vacation Bible school, fishing, swimming, camping, and time spent with friends. Social media affords us a way to share those activities with others and see their photos. In addition, I have the privilege of witnessing some important events in the lives of my former students.

                Gary and I also spent a lot of our summer hours working in the fields of California. We irrigated dry soil. We harvested crops.  We fed animals. We chopped weeds. My Facebook friends now include many people who are still engaged in farming, and even more who are gardeners. I was thrilled yesterday to see a photo of one of my former kindergarten students restoring an old tractor.

                My oldest daughter went camping last week. The younger one loves to kayak.  Our son is an avid birder. I hope all three have fond memories of the traditions of summer they participated in as children. Gary and I plan to spend this summer doing a little gardening, watching the birds, taking some photos, and visiting the wildlife refuge. New traditions for older bodies.

Happy Fourth!

Stay safe!

More Thoughts About Food

In the past year I’ve lost seventy-five pounds. I’m satisfied with my journey, happy with the health benefits of my weight loss, and content to stay at this weight. More important, I now feel confident that I have the ability to do so. In January I wrote the following post and this morning I want to revisit it and add a few thoughts and experiences I’ve had since then. (My January thoughts are in bold.)

I’ve thought a lot about food in the past few months since I set out on this dual quest for weight loss and a healthier body. The two are not necessarily compatible if you spend any time online. There are SO many “quick and easy” weight-loss plans. Far too many supplements. Lots and lots of misguided advice. A prime example of this is a commercial currently airing about the benefits of some “super mix” of dried fruits and vegetables that can be added to water to provide all the vitamins and minerals you need for optimum health. It shows every family member, even young children, happily drinking the green concoction. Why can’t we get our vitamins and minerals from real foods, the way God intended? Why can’t we teach our children to eat real fruits and vegetables? I think the answer is that people are always looking for a solution that doesn’t require thought or effort.

I’ve concluded that very few people are willing to do what it takes to actually have a healthy diet that sustains and strengthens them. That’s not a judgement, just a fact. The proof is in the menus of popular fast-food restaurants and the proliferation of products that are “edible”, but barely qualify as “food”. The three most harmful characteristics of the current American diet are excess salt, excess sugar, and excessive portions. Most people readily admit this, while continuing to eat harmful foods. In recent months I’ve noticed that friends on social media often post pictures of desserts and make comments like, “I know I shouldn’t eat this, but….”

Many people cook and eat for entertainment, not nourishment. The news media says that people have rediscovered cooking and eating because of COVID. However, instead of cooking healthy food that might make them less susceptible to disease, most people are returning to the foods of their childhood that evoke happy memories, and adding on more pounds.

Most people are apt to feed their own children the same foods they ate as children, thus passing on the same bad habits and health risks they’re now struggling to change. I not only see daily evidence of this on social media, but two recent commercials take the concept even farther. One encourages parents to bribe their children with French fries. The other tells them to bribe with macaroni and cheese.

The sin of gluttony doesn’t just refer to eating large quantities of food, but also to the excessive desire for food that leads to eating the wrong things at the wrong time and for the wrong reason.  I recently saw a FB post of a young woman who “rewarded” herself by eating something gooey and sweet and calorie-laden that she admitted she should not have eaten. Her obvious reason for doing so was the temporary pleasure of the taste.

Most of us are ignorant of what our bodies need for optimum health. As a society, we seem to care more about our pet’s nutritional needs than our own. One of the things I did on this journey was to seek out others who wanted to accomplish the same goals. I couldn’t find anyone. I quickly realized there are a lot of people who want to lose weight, but not that many want to research the requirements for a healthy body. That makes them vulnerable to the quick schemes and unmaintainable plans.

Humans are addicted to sugar. It’s the “acceptable” drug, in spite of its harmful effects. Now that it’s summer there are shaved ice stands around town. One of them recently advertised on social media showing a huge cone topped with candy. Apparently there isn’t enough sugar in the syrup poured over the ice!

I’m not offering advice. I’m still working on my own diet flaws. I’m reading, reading, reading. Thinking. Tasting. Experimenting. Eliminating some foods and restricting others. I’ve changed my mind about this one. I AM going to offer you some advice. Use a smaller plate. Eat smaller portions. Eat more vegetables. Eliminate “junk” food that doesn’t provide something beneficial to your body. Eat food in its most natural state. Don’t drink something you can eat. Don’t intentionally eat sugar or salt. (I don’t buy either.) Identify your “trigger” foods and STOP buying them. If something is not in your kitchen, you can’t eat it.

We only get one body and it has to last a while. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how fragile mine was until I began to reap the consequences of my earlier neglect of it. Trying to take much better care of it now. My current emphasis is exercise. That’s the most ignored component of health. Doctors always recommend “diet and exercise” as the keys to weight loss, health, and strength. For a variety of reasons, we embrace the diet part and largely ignore the admonition to exercise. It takes time. It takes effort. It takes commitment. I’m committed to my MWF gym schedule, but still working on the best times to work out on the other days.

Another change I’ve made is eliminating caffeine from my diet.

Thanks for reading my ramblings this morning. I haven’t posted a lot lately because I’m busy and happy. Reading, researching, writing, gardening, photography, and daily life chores occupy my time and I’m quite content. I pray that you are living your healthiest life and enjoy the weekend.

Appreciating My Dad

I don’t think I ever gave a lot of thought to the circumstances my father faced when I was born…at least not until my own children became adults. As each of my children graduated from high school, I compared their approach to adulthood with my own, and then, much later, compared my father’s early years to ours.

                My parents were married on April 26, 1949, just a few weeks before my father graduated from high school. My mother finished her junior year, but never returned to school. He was nineteen. She was sixteen and a half. Just months after Dad graduated, several members of his family gathered together and moved to California.

                My grandmother was the only one who spoke much about the move. It was a difficult decision. It was risky. They left family and friends and the familiarity of their hometown. Everything about their future was unknown, except for the availability of good jobs. (Some of the men had worked in CA the previous summer.) It was an arduous journey. They lived in tents for a while after they arrived. It took time to “get settled”. It helped that the women in our family were faithful Christians. Some of the men were simply dutiful husbands who went to church with them, but the social benefits were the same. They met people, found jobs, moved into houses, attended church, and became more familiar with their new town.

                So, on February 20, 1950 when Bobby Lee Simmons became my father, he was only twenty years old, barely more than a teenager. He was still adjusting to a new wife, a new state, a new job, a new life, and an uncertain future. On that cold day in February he also accepted a new responsibility…a hefty eleven-pound girl who would change his life in ways his young mind couldn’t even imagine.

                Like most relationships ours had its ups and downs, but most of the time we got along quite well. He made a lot of mistakes in the early years; I made a lot of mistakes during my teen years. It all worked out and we eventually became friends who tolerated each other’s differences.

                Dad died in 2014. I miss our walks in the garden, our conversations over lunch, our serious discussions about the futures of our grandchildren. Most of all, I miss his laughter. While I still disagree with some of his beliefs and actions, I certainly appreciate his journey as my parent.

Manners, 1920

With a Camera and a Cane

Yesterday between 4:30 and 6 am, we received an inch and a half of rain. The wind blew, thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated our early morning sky. It was certainly a surprise to me since our forecast the night before had predicted only a 20% chance of rain.

Later, after breakfast, I wandered around the yard to assess any damage. I poured water out of one of the potted plants that sits at the edge of the patio. I gathered up a few limbs scattered by the wind. I examined some damaged lilies and fretted over my little datura that is drowning. I emptied water from a couple of bird feeders that don’t drain. I put a support stake next to a lily that had fallen over. Then I did what I always do…took pictures of my flowers.

When I retired six years ago, I thought I might take some painting classes and resume my love of art. I had painted in college and for a few years early in my teaching career. However, the demands of a long commute soon relegated painting to a “someday” hobby. In preparation for that future day, I began to take pictures of flowers and butterflies and birds that might grace a canvas. Now photography has evolved into my hobby and my passion. I seldom think about painting. I do think about what I might discover today when I examine the world through the lens of my Nikon.

Two things are almost always attached to my body if I step outside my house. One of our three cameras is slung around my neck, and one of my three canes is gripped by my right hand. I can’t even begin to enumerate the ways each has changed my life in the past two years. To begin with, using a camera requires two hands, so that influences my choice of canes. The one I prefer to use in the yard has a four-part base and stands independently at my side while I take a photo. Using a cane makes me slower than I was in the past, so the camera I currently use has a more powerful lens that allows me to take pictures of active creatures without being so active myself.

People sometimes comment on the quality or beauty of a particular photo I’ve had the privilege of taking. I consider each and every one a serendipitous happenstance. I don’t consider myself to be a photographer. I’m not trained and I don’t know what half the buttons on my camera even do. I read the manual and try to master the ones that are most important to me. I usually refer to myself as a “woman with a camera”.  Yesterday, as I wandered the yard, I realized I should change that to “a woman with a camera and a cane”.

Fashion, 1918

I read old newspapers for my Caddo blog, for my newspaper articles, and for my FB history pages. And sometimes I find something priceless that I feel like sharing here.