Posts Tagged ‘friends’
New Friends
We have arrived back home at Wintervale, and the cats seem pretty happy to see us. In fact, Pequenita doesn’t seem to want me to get this post typed, because she is on top of me, between my hands and the keyboard, insisting on being scratched enough to make up for the days we have been absent.
It looks like there was some heavy rain in recent days, because it seems like it is wetter than before I left, five days ago. If you have been reading along, the geothermal guys like the soil wet, for drilling the lines underground. As a result, the geothermal plumbing installation is complete, up to the furnace room in the basement. As for the fence project, no progress whatsoever.
I have already had an opportunity to put some of what I learned over the weekend at the Epona leadership workshop, into practice. Just as I was picking up my car at the airport parking lot, I received a call about a problem situation that had arisen at the day-job, yesterday. I had to kick into “leadership” mode and deal with a sticky issue.
It really upset me, because I was trying to reflect on the wonderful weekend and many learning experiences I enjoyed. This issue commanded my full attention long before I was interested in changing modes. Cyndie quickly pointed out I had a choice about how to respond to this interruption, and, using a skill gained from her training, helped guide me to a place that we refer to as “getting back to grazing.”
It is a reflection of the behavior of horses, after they are involved in a conflict. Whatever happens is dealt with in the moment, and then it is done. Return to the calm mode of grazing.
It helped. I made some calls, and got back to remembering the great events of the weekend.
We already dearly miss the friends we left behind. Sunday night there was a graduation ceremony, and I tried to get a couple of pictures. Monday morning we had breakfast together, and then went our separate ways. Last night we felt a void, in not being able to check in with them about how the rest of their day went.
It is a great indicator of the bond we are feeling for these special souls who have become new threads in the fabric of our lives.
Embarrassingly Easy
I have now successfully edited my posts going all the way back to November 30, to fix the missing links that allow viewing the images in their full-size. I find it a bit embarrassing to admit that the solution was always available in the form of a button to click, which creates the link. I guess the link was previously a default situation when I uploaded my images, and became a selectable option when the software was updated.
I let myself think I was too busy to pay attention to this level of detail. Funny how the mind works when it comes to things like this.
Not as embarrassing, but unquestionably easy, was our decision to purchase a share in Walker Farms CSA yesterday. They are our neighbors, and represent many of the philosophies that appeal to us. We came home with eggs, chicken, ground beef, ground pork, ham, and even some lamb weenies, from free-range, grass-fed animals that are not fed systemic antibiotics or any type of hormone, and are raised in a sustainable environment. 
That isn’t all we came home with… They loaned us the book, “The Sheer Ecstasy of Being a Lunatic Farmer,” by Joel Salatin. I recognized having seen at least one of the documentary movies that are referenced on the back cover of the book, featuring Joel and his family farm. After reading just the introduction of the book, I am enthralled by it.
It immediately brought to my mind, the friend I consider a mentor, Ian Rowcliffe, in Portugal. Ian, you are so not alone in your visions and energies to improve our fates by altering the direction of so many aspects of the ways of the modern world. Visiting with our neighbors at Walker Farms, and discovering the writings of Joel Salatin from his Polyface Farms, has expanded my understanding of my own reasons this adventure that Cyndie and I are undertaking feels so right. Ian’s Forest Garden Estate fits right in with it all, and remains one of my primary inspirations.
It really is about more than just the horses, even though that is the primary focus I have been referencing for our reason for moving here. We are trying to figure out fences right now, for the horses, but fences lead to, and are connected with, all aspects of our future operation here. Managing manure is leading to reasons we might want to have chickens. Testimony from the Walkers offered good evidence of the value of chickens, and the introduction of Joel’s book pretty much cements it for us.
There are an amazing number of things for us to discover related to accomplishing all the things we hope to achieve here. As difficult as that seems to be sometimes, it is also surprisingly easy. You could say, embarrassingly easy… because we tend to embarrass ourselves over and over with each lesson we encounter.
Unfortunately, none of them are as simple as finding out the solution is just a click of a button.
The Best
I recently discovered the concept of referencing the question of where you are from, by asking, “Where is your placenta buried?” I saw it in the article about Vanishing Languages in the latest issue of National Geographic Magazine.
“This is how the Seris ask, Where are you from? Those who were born before hospital births know the exact spot where their afterbirth was placed in the ground, covered in sand and ash, and topped with rocks.“
Mine was a hospital birth, I’m confident in saying. I don’t actually remember it, but I’ve seen pictures that provide pretty good evidence. One image depicts my mother, with two visiting friends gazing down at me (we think it’s me –I’m the 5th of 6 kids, so it could be a sibling), and the two ladies each have a cigarette cradled between two fingers.
It was a long time ago. These things happened back then.
My placenta didn’t get buried anywhere that I am aware of, but on this day, 53-years ago, I parted company from it and began breathing air. Ever since, I have considered myself as being from Eden Prairie, Minnesota.
One of my longest enduring friendships began in Eden Prairie, in 1st grade at the EP public school. Paul Keiski and I were born one day apart. His birthday was yesterday. He’s like an older brother. One day older.
We are both active, athletic guys, but you might not have guessed that would be the case if you saw us back then. We both have memories of having stayed inside during recess, to draw pictures of Batman, Robin, and the Batmobile. I’m sure we were way too naive to imagine our shared activity was laying a foundation for a life-long connection, but it was.
Yesterday, I received the best possible present from Paul. I had forgotten to acknowledge the occasion of his day with a birthday greeting, until an email arrived in my inbox, wishing me a happy birthday. Upon processing the thought that this greeting had arrived a day early, I was struck by the realization that it meant that it was Paul’s birthday! I sent him a note.
His wonderful reply followed shortly, ending with this closure: “Cheers on another year, your present is enclosed. -PK” and the attached image:
That’s just the absolute best!
Got Yucks?
What makes the bike trip so special? It’s definitely the friends who return, year after year, that make this an event that is much more than just a chance to ride bikes.
Thanks to Suzanne for capturing these snapshots of me and a few of my pals, after breakfast in the cafeteria of the 1910 public school of Mellen, WI.
You may not be able to tell how much fun we all have together, from the expressions on our faces, but we love a good laugh.
Our legs might get fatigued after miles of pedaling, but our ribs hurt from gut-busting, tear-springing laughter. How can you not get the giggles exchanging text messages with Julie in the tent next door? Or hearing Rhonda tell the joke about what the bra said to the hat?* And, Busbee Peckermann? …I’m afraid you need to hear Roger explain that one. But, once you hear the story, the mere mention of the name is a guaranteed laugh.
.
*Look it up. The answer is out there on the web… .I’m Home!
It’s always nice to get home again, even though the trip was so much fun that I wish it wouldn’t end. We enjoyed mostly favorable weather, right up until the second-to-the-last day, when a robust thunderstorm swallowed much of our riding time, and left us soaked to the bone.
Earlier in the ride, Jim enlisted the support of the local police to escort us across a high-traffic intersection, and I caught this shot as we started out…
This trip was different for me, in that I have acquired a familiarity with the routine that allows a certain amount of casual planning, yet it had been 2-years since I last participated and I was a bit rusty on some of the details.
I remembered to bring my journal, but I forgot a pencil. I never did get around to buying or borrowing one, so, I didn’t do any writing all week. Maybe I was due for a break.
The good thing about that is, I didn’t fret over it. Just went with the flow.
I am now in the struggle of reorienting my thinking from the carefree mode of vacation, to the responsibilities of taking care of the home and heeding the scheduled events I committed to before I left. What were those, anyway?
The day-job starts up again tomorrow. I better not forget that. The yard at home is in need of attention. I must unpack my camping gear and prepare it for storage.
It is good to be home again, but I already miss the freedom of that open road and the treasure of like-minded friends who make it such a wonderful week-long adventure.
Happy Cycling
My cycling friends invited me to go for a ride yesterday. Six days ago, I was suffering an immobilizing pain in my back. I could hardly stand up. On Monday, I tried to take my therapeutic walk, but couldn’t go but a short distance. I stayed home from work, and scheduled my first-ever acupuncture appointment with no idea what to expect.
It was very simple. After a very brief description of my situation, the practitioner placed needles in various places: ears, arms, hands, legs, and feet, and left me reclining in the dim room amid sounds of flowing water and celestial music. I’ve suffered worse procedures.
I had no idea what I was supposed to feel. It was nothing, if not relaxing. After almost an hour, the needles are removed, and it’s “Have a nice day.” That’s it? I just get up and go now? Okay.
I worked half a day on Tuesday, before I tired of trying to function in a semi-normal fashion. At least I was able to do something. There was definite improvement. By Wednesday, I was able to complete my usual distance of therapeutic walk in the morning, and did all my back exercises.
I had two follow-up acupuncture appointments, on Wednesday and Friday. I was feeling very close to normal function. I had not taken any pain medication beyond one last dose of ibuprofen on Monday morning. I have had zero negative side effects from having acupuncture.
In the past, I have been able to ride a bicycle, even though my back was ailing, so I was willing to try joining my friends for a ride yesterday. However, during my mental preparation for the excursion, I realized that my bike was hanging upside down overhead in the garage. I was going to need to reach above my head and hold that weight at precarious angles to get it down. I’m pretty sure that this falls well into the category of things I’ve been advised not to do.
With some trepidation, I carefully managed the task, bending over multiple times as I prepared my bike and myself for the ride. I pumped up the tires, using my manual pump, thinking the whole time that the motion was probably ill-advised. I removed the front wheel and picked up the bike to hoist it into the back of my car. All accomplished with no problems from my back!
We had a wonderful 20-mile ride on trails from Hopkins to downtown Minneapolis, where we lunched at the legendary east European deli, Kramarczuk’s.
I can think of no reason I shouldn’t give the practice of acupuncture credit for giving me such a quick return to one of the great pleasures of my life. I will gladly continue to do more testing of this judgement.
Decisions, Decisions
Here we are again, with the clocks adjusted ahead, moving dusk beyond the dinner hour. That means darkness is delayed long enough that chores can be prolonged later into the evening. Oh, joy.
I spent the weekend removing wallpaper from 2 bathrooms. I am really glad that is done. Now I am struggling to figure out how to choreograph the next phases of drywall repair and painting. Ideally, the furniture should be moved to a neutral location, but we haven’t got a room that doesn’t need work.
I have no idea where I am going to end up sleeping.
I will likely have to ask the crews doing the work to break the job up and just do portions at a time. That would allow me to empty some rooms by putting everything into a different room that will be done later.
On the surface, that may not seem like too big a deal, but I am here all by myself, and moving furniture alone is an onerous task, especially with degenerating discs in my spine.
It is less than a year now since I suffered the first symptoms of pain from degenerative disc disease, for which “the first line of treatment is usually to avoid aggravating the condition. Modifying activities to preclude lifting of heavy objects and playing sports that require rotating the back (e.g. golf, basketball or football) can be a good first step.” (from Lumbar Degenerative Disc Disease Treatments by Peter F Ullrich, Jr., MD)
On the subject of not playing sports that involve rotating the back (or pounding up and down the hardwood gym floor), I was considering canceling my membership to the sports club where we play our three-times-a-week morning futsal games, and just quitting cold turkey. I had already reduced my attendance to Mondays and Fridays, but since my most recent flare-up, haven’t played for 3-weeks, and I will have plenty of work to do on preparing the house for showings, and will ultimately be moving to a more rural area that will likely pull me away from the games anyway. It seems to me, quitting now would be a logical thing to do.
But… maybe I have played too many years with these guys to just disappear. Something is keeping me from taking that step that would guarantee the conclusion of my participation. Part of me is wondering about the possibility that I might experiment with altering my level of play to become more conscious of how I move during action. I could practice being light on my feet, and deliberate in my attempts. I will be a bit slower, and probably less effective. I’ll finally start acting my age out there. If I learn to play more prudently, I may be able to prolong my opportunities to mingle with a great collection of friends who share my love of soccer.
That is, until we move out to live with horses.
Tolerable Suffering
Now that my routine has returned to a relative normal, post the holidays, I’m going to provide an update on the status of my solo living. Even though it’s been almost 4-months since Cyndie moved east to accept a position with Boston Public Schools, it still feels a bit new. At the same time, it has been long enough to pretty much figure out what works for me. I have been getting my needs met, and am tending to the needs of the household. With only one person messing up the place, shouldn’t I be able to sweep the kitchen half as often? It does not appear to be the case.
For the most part, I am taking advantage of having groceries delivered to the house. I do my food shopping online. Thus far, I am happy with my ability to avoid relying too heavily on restaurants for my sustenance. In fact, I think I am eating out less than when Cyndie was home. Since I don’t automatically have a companion, that seems like a logical outcome to me. I expect it might be different if I was inclined to eat out alone.
The real staple has turned out to be soup from my good friend and fellow Himalayan trekker, Chef Pam Knutson. I buy soup through her Birdsong Soups business out of the Kitchen in the Market facility. I get a quart each week that her husband, John, generously brings to his work in Eden Prairie where I can conveniently pick it up. This has been providing about 4 different meals a week for me. I don’t think I will be able to eat soup out of a can ever again after this experience. What a treat! This is gourmet level eating that seems like it would only be available in fine restaurants, and I have it in my own kitchen! I highly recommend you check out this community supported soup business, Birdsong Soups.
I have also become just a bit more social since Cyndie has moved out, hosting a number of gatherings of friends at the house, and going out with others. Part of that is a result of friends offering to step up to help fill the void. Thank you, friends!
The one thing that isn’t working so well is my being able to touch base with my lovely wife with any regularity. All too often, multiple days pass where we fail to speak or even successfully exchange a text message. You’d think a one-hour time difference wouldn’t be a big deal, but I find it does complicate things, or maybe it just seems to, because Cyndie’s work hours have been ridiculously long. I was shocked to be unable to reach her on a Friday night, nor the entire following Saturday, only to find out she was working both times and had unknowingly dropped her phone under the seat of the car they provided for her use.
I figure I should be nurturing a relationship with the security personnel in her building so I can contact them to find out where she is if I want to speak to her. Nothing can really replace the small talk that has been dashed from our relationship. I miss how she would politely listen to me talk like a little kid about the excitement I enjoyed at soccer in the morning. Yesterday I would have whined to her about the owie I got when I sprained a finger playing around with a basketball in the gym before soccer started. Then I would have bragged about the success we had making multiple one-touch passes to score lots of goals, or mentioned that I forgot to use my asthma inhaler before playing and noticed some suffering as a result. Tolerable, but noticeable suffering.
Kind of like the feeling of suddenly living separated from your beloved spouse of 30 years.
Priceless Friendships!
The fantastic brilliance of life springs forth in everything! It is in the good and the bad, the easy and the difficult. Our greatest lessons do not come from times of calm and collected, easy living. It is the challenges, the trials and tribulations, which produce the gems of outcome that glimmer with the brilliant beauty of our eventual successes in life.
It has been brought to my attention, by friends who care about me, that some of what I write lately is spawning worry about my state of being. I will admit to taking advantage of some of the angst, (created in me by the departure of my lovely wife to the job in Boston), composing some prose that explores the feelings thus produced. To an artist, such fodder is a rich vein to be mined.
I am grateful for the feedback, though, because I was not aware of the level of impression my words were creating. I am richly blessed by friends. In particular, Ian Rowcliffe, who provides me with insights and inspirations through his comments, and his unfailingly positive focus. Also, my good friend, Gary Larson, a champion in helping me take care of myself. Mike Wilkus has been a (mostly) weekly date for dinners out on the town, or movies, or sometimes both. Many special friends from my circle of bicycling buddies, who came over last Saturday, bringing food and good cheer, to watch a movie I’ve been itchin’ to share for weeks. And my morning soccer comrades, who just yesterday were helping me release endorphins with plenty of laughter and cheerful competition.
I am eating very well, despite my disinterest in cooking, getting in my maintenance exercises for my back, and actually enjoying the opportunity to get a taste of living on my own. Being separated from Cyndie isn’t easy, but it isn’t all that hard, either. It is “both / and.”
Part of me just might have been hesitant to portray my situation in too rosy a light, lest I come across as a heartless cad. I fear there could be some ‘splainin’ to do if my wife thought I was having too much fun here without her.
I was telling Gary last night that I am enjoying having some of the rooms in our house become more a reflection of me, as I remove some things that had been put in place for when two people occupied the space. As referenced in yesterday’s poem, the rooms are losing some of Cyndie’s soul, but I see that as a logical step toward our putting this house on the market. When she moves home again, we are envisioning that we will be in a new place, on property with space for horses. I expect the current situation will end up making it easier for us to part with the house we’ve lived in for over 25 years.
Thank you to all friends, new and old, who read me here! I’m hoping you find my travails relative something… preferably something positive!
Short Version
This is one of those moments when I would like to be able to tell you all about the exciting adventures, not the least of which included what went on in my dreams last night, that have occurred for me over the last few days. However, I am still living the adventures, and unlike my studious chronicling of bike trips, Nepal treks, and Portugal paradise visits, I have not been keeping a keen journal of events.
The short version is that we are at the lake with Cyndie’s family and our wonderful community of friends that serve as extended family, playing and relaxing in the beauty of the woods that surround us. Friday we survived a terrific storm that knocked out our electrical power for about 12 hours, mostly the hours we slept. Finding our way to bed was the hardest part, in the total darkness.
The storm released us from oppressive humid heat and the weather is now luxuriously ideal. Today will be the annual games of the US Independence Day celebrations, and the evening will bring a community feast at the lodge.
Otherwise it has been lake play, with boats pulling kids on a variety of fancy floating rafts, resting in the new hammock, walking with Cyndie in her wheelchair, watching cycling and the Women’s World Cup of soccer, and Scrabble games on the iPad.
It goes without saying that the food has been spectacular and plentiful. We are enjoying ourselves immensely. If I had time, I’d tell you about it. The only thing we can think of that could out-do this would be to have successfully landed in Portugal and be visiting our friends, the Rowcliffes, at their Forest Garden Estate.
Yesterday afternoon, Cyndie and I were lounging together on the hammock overlooking the lake as all manner of glee was audible from the kids down on the beach. She had a book and I brought out my laptop. I noticed that our friend, Ian, was logged into gmail, which would support a chat. We were overjoyed to find him available and spent over a half hour visiting, getting a taste of what we were dreaming of achieving before the calamity that postponed the trip. What a pleasure that proved to be for us. We woke up this morning feeling the joy, still.
The amazing power of friendship.
Relative Something 
