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Memorial Day 2009

Each Memorial Day, Dick and I attend an outdoor ceremony honoring men and women presently serving in a branch of the armed forces and those who have been injured or killed protecting our country and freedom. A speaker at this year's event reminded us that "freedom is not free". It comes at a cost. He shared Eleanor Roosevelt's Wartime Prayer. "Lest I keep my complacent way, I must remember somewhere out there a person died for me today. As long as there must be war, I ask and I must answer was I worth dying for?" This quote has resonated so clearly in my mind since the words echoed from the podium to where we stood under a mature stand of oaks and pines at the edge of a crowd of people gathered at the cemetery. It has caused me to consider how I choose to spend each day... to make my life matter. 

"Deborah's" blog

   

This is a scan of some notecards I created from a photo of aprons hanging on my clothesline. The message I chose to insert on the front and continues on the inside states, "Of all the paths you take in life... make sure a few of them are dirt." For me, that means to slow your pace now and again so as not to miss the gifts that life has to offer. The following description of an incident in my life this afternoon drives that message home.

Today, just before I set out for my walk, I received a comment from "Deborah" on my 2008 Food Blog Awards Results and Free Drawing post. She stated that she had discovered me through the food blog awards and that we are practically neighbors since she lives in Nisswa, which is 12 miles north of Brainerd. I pecked out a reponse to her and hurried out the door. Upon my return, I groaned when I discovered that the email I had sent her had come back as undeliverable due to an "unknown user account". Not to be deterred, I found a blog address that she had included with her comment submission on my blog. I am a firm believer that when we slow our spirits down to a pace so that we can be "in the moment", we are better able to absorb and accept events that can so easily be missed or brushed off as "luck". The receipt of Deborah's email, and my response to her followed by the returned mail message, was such a snippet in time but monumental in its end result. Let me explain... In the natural progession of this event, I clicked on Deborah's blog address and discovered the most delightful insight into this woman whom I have not yet met but have so quickly formed a connection.

In her "About" section, she describes the direction that her blog will take. I quote... "Like my previous blog, Exuberant Lady, I expect this one to lean heavily toward the relationship between garden, kitchen, and table, but with a decidedly more political edge... mostly of the small "p" sort. Supporting the local economy, being a committed organic gardener, growing a row for the soup kitchen or food shelf, saving heritage seed varieties, buying grass-fed meats, improving my composting skills, and encouraging others along all these lines are as much political acts as are writing to one's members of congress. I believe with all my heart that real politics resides in little acts of conscience." 

You must check out the First Snow poem by Louise Gluck with Deborah's interpretation of it and the beautiful snowy landscape view outside her kitchen window.

I decided that my next book purchase will be Deborah's recommendation of Weathering Winter by Carl H. Klaus.

So you see... If I had deleted Deborah's comment with a mere, "Oh, wasn't that nice," or had not taken a few extra minutes to attempt an alternate way to contact her, I would have missed this blessing. For it is these moments that are the essence of life itself.

Feb. 3, 2009

Today’s mileage: 2 mile walk outside

Total monthly mileage: 6 miles

Bible reading? affirmative

carpe diem

Cape Diem "To live each day as if it were your last, you would be trying to remedy all the mistakes you had made, all regrets, all the things unsaid. If you live each day as if it were your first, you are freed from all obligations, all guilt, all regret." ~from Breathing Space: Twelve Lessons for the Modern Woman by Katrina Repka and Alan Finger

 

So I shall do just that... I will not beat myself up for slacking with my exercise and Bible reading. Instead, I will begin anew with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. My friend, Sheila, is my inspiration. She set a goal of logging 50 miles of movement in a month, which she attained. That can be walking, jogging, or running outside or on a treadmill, swimming, biking, rollerblading, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing... you get the idea. Now that's a novel way of approaching the whole get-yourself-in-shape... move it or lose it campaign. I determined that today, being the beginning of a brand new month, would be my rebirth. However, I was anxious to get started and to verify that I hadn't gotten too rusty, so I walked 2 miles yesterday outside in the fresh air. I also read several passages in my Bible and pondered them a while. Time to tie the shoelaces and hit the dirt/pavement combo again... Wanna join me?

 

photo courtesy of Microsoft Clipart Gallery

 

Feb. 1, 2009

Today's mileage: 2 mile walk outdoors 

Total monthly mileage: 2 miles

Bible reading? Yep.

sail away

After reading my "outrageous old woman" post, my friend Pat shared some valuable links to three different web sites that referred to the shelf fungus that was used for Gladys's artwork. One site was a DIY message board that addressed how to dry and preserve tree fungus. Not only did I glean information for a future craft project, but a bonus awaited. The person who was answering the question, "How can I preserve a large tree fungus for a craft project?" had created his/her "signature" to display a quote. The message board is a live format whereby there is a question, an answer, another question, an answer, etc. Therefore, the person's signature quote displayed over and over everytime his/her answer was shared causing it to be embedded deeper and deeper into my soul. Here is the quote.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ~Mark Twain

This quote has special meaning to Dick and I because since my "one more snowstorm" post, amidst the beauty of the landscape we have had some issues with the return of winter. Prior to the snowstorm, we were deceived by the few days of temps in the 60s and low 70s into thinking that below freezing temps were behind us, so we turned the water back on in our cabins in preparation for our bed and breakfast season opening in May. I know you are beginning to follow my train of thought. Yup, we have frozen busted water pipes, a cracked hydrant and filter unit on our second well that supplies all of the cabins, and even one water heater that needs to be replaced. Back to the Mark Twain quote... We were "more disappointed by the things that we didn't do" (letting the faucets' water run slowly, turning on the heat in the cabins, or better yet not turning on the water at all) than by the ones we did do (not a thing to prevent freezeup). We initially felt like "sailing away"... far away, but we came to the realization that everyone's life has setbacks, shouldas, if only we had... We will dig in to get through this and move on to be ready for opening May 9 and 10. "Twenty years from now", the only memory we will have of this event is that we will have become wiser by remembering that the end of April in Minnesota can be ripe with surprises and Mark Twain's quote will hold the meaning for me that he intended when he wrote it .

a little bit

"A little bit about me before you go... " This phrase has been floating around in my brain... song lyrics, I think. Each of us has a story... a song. Here's mine.

Hello. My name is Adrienne Cahoon (a.k.a. "queen of the meadow blooms"). The photo is me three years ago overnight backpacking in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.

I grew up in a family of fourteen on a 160-acre farm 10 miles southeast of Brainerd. I attended first grade in a one-room schoolhouse 1-1/2 miles from my childhood home. The following year, schools were consolidated and we were bused into Brainerd. Throughout my childhood, I helped tend gardens and fields on the acreage that my father farmed in addition to his full-time job with the Minnesota State Highway Department. I had an apron-clad stay-at-home mom who baked made-from-scratch fresh from the oven bread and cookies for when I got off the school bus. It is from this background that I developed a love for all facets of homekeeping, gardening, land stewardship, and related environmental issues.

During my eleven years as a full-time classroom teacher (six years in Minnesota and five years in Florida), I was selected 1996 Conservation Education Teacher of the Year for the state of Florida and recipient of Disney's 1996 Teacherrific $3000.00 Top Program Award for a school-wide waste management system utilizing composting. In 1993, I earned a Master of Science Degree in Curriculum and Instruction and completed my Master Gardener certification through the University of Minnesotain March 2000. In 1999, I opened Whiteley Creek Homestead Bed and Breakfast on the property where my husband and I have lived for 34 years. I have three daughters. My eldest daughter lives in New Yorkwith her husband and two daughters and is a freelance graphic designer and author and illustrator of children's books. My middle daughter lives in New Jersey with her husband and son and is a freelance graphic designer in NYC. My youngest daughter has a degree in psychology and lives in Florida working as a merchandiser for a women's fashion designer based in Los Angeles. Her territory includes the state of Florida as well as Jackson, Mississippi, and Nashville. Tennessee.

jelly bean sunday

I bought these jelly beans before Easter because their colors are different than the standard hues. However, I forgot about them until Easter had passed, so I wondered what I might do with them. Today I was given the most perfect reason to bring the jelly beans out of hiding. You see, I woke up this morning to read an email from Louie, who is the husband of my longtime friend, Deb, that caused my heart to ache and tears to flow. Here is the email that I received (in abbreviated form):

This letter is going out to family members and friends that may or may not know of the situation that Deb was in Friday night the 28th of March.

She woke up on that morning with what she describes as "rotating" or wavy vision around the edges of sight.  This was apparently visible to Dr Sabir at Northern Eye who she went to see on an emergency run around 4:30PM.  His concerns were real and he immediately sent her to the ER at St Joe's Hospital in Brainerd.  I waited with her until her situation was revealed to us. The news was nearly impossible for me to absorb.  Of the things that could cause this wavy vision were, MS, stroke, blood clot, tumor, aneurysm and a few other maladies that were also possibilities.  We were informed that Deb would be sent by ambulance to St Joe's Hospital in St Paul where they had the best neurological staff and facilities for dealing with this type of thing. I was terrified, as was she. I put her in the ambulance at roughly 8:30PM.

That night I spent alone was flush with emotions as I called the kids, sisters, mothers, and friends to explain what was going on and to ask for prayers, while attempting to nuke some lasagna that Deb had prepared for Mom who was coming for supper that night.  Just taking the lasagna out of the microwave, realizing that she had put it together, brought me to tears and begging God's mercy for what might lie ahead in St Paul.  I spent an absolutely miserable night alone with my thoughts and a variety of prayers for intervention, healing, and grace. 

I left home at 6 AM for St Paul. It was about 8:30 AM and she had finished her MRI scan.  The doctor came in around 11:45 and gave us the results of the MRI.  Nothing........no clots, no tumor, no stroke, no MS, no aneurysm, nothing.  He just said "you're outa here."  As much as I love Easter, and that feeling of being renewed, it paled to this information. Jen and Ross (2 of Deb and Louie's 3 children) lit up,  Deb was flabbergasted, and I was......rewarded.  God listened. 

We finally left the hospital at 1:30 PM. We are home now, grateful, happy, and once again content in our little slice of heaven. Until Friday night, my prayer life was pretty minimal......no, it stunk......

Not any more.......Thank you.
Louie

This day that I have dubbed Jelly Bean Sunday, I rejoice in my friends' answered prayers. I celebrate life with all of its beautiful colors by enjoying a jelly bean sundae. Colors all around me suddenly look so much more vibrant. They were always there, but I now notice them even more! I am blessed to have my friends, Deb and Louie.

~Adrienne   

dirt roads

Growing up southeast of Brainerd on a farm surrounded by dirt roads all around, life took on a slower pace. Recently, paved roads have encroached within one mile on two sides of where the old homestead still remains, but the "washboard" gravel road thus far hasn't been covered over with asphalt in the name of progress. Agates are fewer in number than when I collected them forty plus years ago walking down the dusty road to the swimming beach 1 1/4 miles away, but the breeze rustling the trees with no noise of airplanes, cars, or trains is the same now as then. The half-mile long driveway that leads to my present home, where Dick and I have shared our life for thirty-five years, has become a bed and breakfast symbolic of the richly simple life I had as a child. Bob C., a longtime friend, shared this Dirt Roads message that encapsulates all the feelings that I have never sat down to express on paper. (My brother, Greg, has his arm around me in this 1955 photo. Dick likes think it is him instead.)

Dirt Roads by Paul Harvey

What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many dirt roads have been paved.

There's not any problem in America today… crime, drugs, education, divorce, delinquency… that wouldn't be remedied, if we just had more dirt roads, because dirt roads give character.

People that live at the end of dirt roads learn early on that life is a bumpy ride… that it can jar you right down to your teeth sometimes, but it's worth it, if at the end is home... a loving spouse, happy kids and a dog.

We wouldn't have near the trouble with our educational system if our kids got their exercise walking a dirt road with other kids, from whom they learn how to get along.

There was less crime in our streets before they were paved. Criminals didn't walk two dusty miles to rob or rape, if they knew they'd be welcomed by five barking dogs and a double barrel shotgun… and there were no drive by shootings.

Our values were better when our roads were worse. People did not worship their cars more than their kids and motorists were more courteous; they didn't tailgate by riding the bumper or else the guy in front would choke you with dust and bust your windshield with rocks. Dirt roads taught patience.

Dirt roads were environmentally-friendly… You didn't hop in your car for a quart of milk. You walked to the barn for your milk.

For your mail, you walked to the mailbox.

What if it rained and the dirt road got washed out? That was the best part… then you stayed home and had some family time, roasted marshmallows, popped popcorn, pony rode on Daddy's shoulders, and learned how to make prettier quilts than anybody.

At the end of dirt roads, you soon learned that bad words tasted like soap.

Most paved roads lead to trouble. Dirt roads more likely lead to a fishing creek or a swimming hole.

At the end of a dirt road, the only time we even locked our car was in August because, if we didn't, some neighbor would fill it with too much zucchini.

At the end of a dirt road, there was always extra springtime income from when city dudes would get stuck. You'd have to hitch up a team and pull them out. Usually you got a dollar...always you got a new friend...at the end of a dirt road.