Month: August 2017

Sunday, August 20, 2017

I plan to travel to Spain, actually to southwest France, and there begin to walk El Camino, an old pilgrimage path that reaches to northwest Spain. From this pre-trip point of view I do not know whether I will write during the 500-mile walk, whether I will take photos and how much I will be in communication in general. Presently I think I might continue my practice of posting one (1) photo on Facebook each day, but that is no promise. My return plane ticket indicates that I’ll be home by October 20.

Thus, for now adios.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

It is in Massachusetts where I have reached my goal of walking 500 miles for the year. To my delight, there are four more additional months for adding to the tally.  Here I will publicly announce that I plan to begin walking El Camino on Saturday, September 9. It is an old pilgrimage trail from St Jean in southwestern France to Santiago in northwestern Spain, a stretch of 500 miles. At this time I do not have plans to continue my blog while on the trip, but I hope to post occasional photos and captions on both Facebook and Instagram.

But back to Massachusetts. I’m with my daughter who teaches at UMass in Lowell. During these days I have walked in historic Lowell with its extensive canal system,

around Henry David Thoreau’s Walden Pond near Concord,

de Cordova, an architecture museum and lovely grounds in Lincoln,

and the Bruce Freeman Rail Trail in Chelmsford.

It is good to be alive and able to walk.

 

Friday, August 18, 2017

A camera’s intro to the northern Massachusetts city, home of UMassLowell where daughter Ingrid lives and works.

Extant fabric mill buildings from the Industrial Revolution.

A spiral staircase in one of those buildings.

Museums that tell the story of millwork and workers.

An elaborate canal system to provide water for powering those mills

 

A large portion of the city now a national park

In my opinion, an excellent family vacation site.

 

 

 

Thursday, August 17, 2017

What if the known universe — all the millions of galaxies and all the billions of stars — in fact constitute an “atom” that makes up a minute part of a much, much larger “world” undetectable at this point by science or imagination?

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

What if we beeped when we back up?

Sunday, August 13

Three principles to walk by.
1. Walking is now.
2. Walking is here.
3. Walking is others.

Walking is here.

Walking is now.

Walking is others.

Walking is here.

Walking is now.

Walking is others.

Walking is here.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Corn Day is an annual fest at The Juniper Spoon. Sixty dozen ears of sweet corn and Jared, Michal, Hunter, Carl, Libby and Jim.

With a closer-up of the process. That’s Jim.

Brendan begins the parboil process..

Next the polar plunge. That’s Karen.

Jared, cutting. Lali plays boss. Jared intentionally cuts lightly, because he will boil the cobs to make stock. Karen and Miss Kitty do the regular cutting.

Kind of like this.

Several cobs are donated to Charity and her sisters.

Lucas fills bags.

And more bags.

That are stacked in the cooler … en route to the freezer.

Meanwhile someone trucks to town and buys pizza.

The Corn Part resumes outside.

Tickets are now on sale for next year’s Corn Party.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

What could be better than mounting a show of paintings?  Answer: having one’s son mount a show of his paintings.  The Harrison Center for the Arts here in Indianapolis hung about 20 of his works this past weekend, many of them large (3 x 3, 4 x 4).

It came to my ears that his show caused a buzz among the art community. Newcomers do that, especially when vision and craft are one.

One of the several themes was the blinded man and blindfold. Here is “Blindfold: relinquish.”

Several paintings were inspired by cave drawings. This one is “Cave drawing: totem.”

The largest painting, partitioned into nine subunits, is entitled “Where fly the birds of peace?”  Perhaps appropriate for your church lobby?

What can I say but that I am grateful for Courtney.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Yesterday at the IMA greenhouse, I was drawn to leaves and foliage. Here are examples:

Of course it’s impossible to walk through the greenhouse without being stunned by blossoms, which are usually of a short but dramatic life.

This bromeliad reminds me of a nest with hungry birds.

And this orchid insisted on being photographed.

My three-hour weekly tenure always includes greeting visitors, a task I enjoy very much.Here is a couple from Washington state, whose vocation is making forest trails for a number of organizations.

I am grateful to the greenhouse staff — Sue, Ian, Marian and Lyss for such a good volunteer job.

 

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

• Waiting at the garage. Could be two hours, he said. The TV is on, loud, to HGTV. It’s a non-ending series of conversations between realtors and would be buyers, called, I think, “House Hunting.” The realtor thinks the place is just what the couple wants. They identify their respective “budgets” that range, in the course of an hour from $350,000 to $700,000. They fuss about how nice is this feature, but that one would have to be changed. On and on. The big man sitting across from me finally says, “These ain’t my peoples.”
• Yesterday I came upon a curiosity in the VW I am keeping for Sam while he is on vacation. On the front seat was a porcupine bag with children’s toys. Beside it were plastic pieces of mysterious shape and size. Who put the bag into the car? What were the pieces for? I stew until I read the street’s shared Facebook page:  Jessica up the street wrote that someone broke into their car, stole their daughter’s beloved toys. While I am altogether guilty for not locking the VW (even though it was behind the house under a bright night light), who would do the crazy act of depositing stolen toys in another car? A teenager’s joke? I return to the VW and only then see that he/she/they tried to jimmy open the glove compartment, thus the sundry pieces on the seat. They must have been looking for drugs because they didn’t bother to pick up the loose change in an obvious cubby.
• I heard this morning at breakfast that Indy’s zip codes are effective predictors of family wealth.
• Rains weren’t predicted for today, but the morning dawned hazy and heavy. Strange dark clouds were being pushed up west and south of here. It took its good old summer time to become a storm, but storm it did. Three people were struck by lightning just north of here.
• At Lowe’s I wanted to talk Spanish with the young man helping me find lumber, but he seemed hesitant, as though he didn’t want to be identified as Hispanic.
• There’s one pick-up truck on the 300 block of North Bolton. Most of us borrow it; Leon says he doesn’t mind because it’s better for a motor to be run now and then. Each time we use it, we donate a too-small sum for its upkeep.
• Several people have asked for compost. It’s ready but I won’t get at its harvest until October.
• Five police cars were in front of or back of a stopped Indy bus. A second bus was parked on the street beside the first bus. People were moving from bus one to bus two. What happened? Such “little” items seldom find a place in the scaled-down local newspaper.
• We enter the downtown area, intending to see Shakespeare in the park. But on West Street there is traffic gridlock — too many cars for the six-lane street. Scores of young people, no hundreds — a thousand? — are walking from Military Park toward downtown. Not teenagers but twenty and thirty somethings. No babies in arms. What, for goodness sake, was going on in Military Park? We arrived late to Shakespeare. Next morning’s paper showed a photo from the festival of local craft brewers.
• Tomorrow I will likely put a sign up by the Roma tomato plant: “HELP YOURSELF.”