Author Archives: judithar321

A Most Important Relationship

30 Wednesday Oct 2013

Posted by in aging, friendship, health, marriage, mid-life transition

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Stone sun dial

It has been nearly 32 years since my husband and I met at a neighborhood party. When we first started seeing each other, I had no idea where the relationship would go, but I suspected it would be an important one. I was lucky —we were lucky — to be in the same place at the same time, and in a situation that allowed us to connect.

Two years later, on a cold, rainy, November afternoon, we exchanged wedding vows.

I took the above photo while visiting some old friends whose relationship probably dates back to about the time I was born. I first met them when I was five years old, and they were a young, married couple with two careers, and one small child. Now in their eighties, they are, to all appearances, still good together.

It is impossible to know what goes on inside someone else’s marriage, but I’m guessing that they nurtured a healthy relationship while developing careers and raising five children by bending —sometimes towards each other, sometimes in opposite directions. Whichever way they curled, however, each knew that the other would be there to catch them.

When I was a kid I spent a lot of time at their house. Even with the chaos that comes with a big family, even if there was yelling, there were times when it felt safer than my own home across the street.

Ever since Paul and I have been together, home has been where he is, and there is no place I’d rather be. He is my best friend, my cheerleader, my teacher, my student, and I am all of those things to him. Even though we fill each of those roles differently, and life together isn’t always perfect or pretty, I am sure of our partnership because we discuss it often. 

He can fix almost anything, including a sore heart. He holds my heart in his big, capable hands every day, gently, and with great care. 

We are closer than those two pillars and just as strong. Our bodies may be less supple than they were 30 years ago, but in our life together we’ve become more flexible. Unlike those pillars, we are not made of stone: We can bend.

***

Friendship is also the topic of my guest post this week on Daily Plate of Crazy. Click here to read it.

In October, Red Is the Color of Home

24 Thursday Oct 2013

Posted by in books, environment, inspiration, politics

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maple-closeup

What is home? It is the place where waking up to the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen, means that Dad is making his special Sunday pancakes. It is the rattle of the dog’s tags as she trots from room to room. Home is the velvety report of a son’s deep laugh seeping through the floorboards as he watches late night TV.

Home is warm, comfortable, familiar.

Home is also found outdoors in the honking of geese as they fly over the house during their spring and fall migrations. In June, it is where the hummingbirds return year after year to drink the nectar my husband prepares for them.

Home is predictable, reliable. It is found in the cycles of this gorgeous, irreplaceable planet — in its winter whites, spring greens, summer yellows, and autumn reds.

berries

field berries

In his book, Oil and Honey: The Education of an Unlikely Activist, writer and environmental activist Bill McKibben shares his “…two lives lived in response to a crazy time.” One life is that of McKibben the activist who travels around the world, fighting against the fossil fuel industry. That public, hectic life is punctuated by a calmer, more soothing one spent in the beeyards of his home state of Vermont, where he watches “… a very different, very beautiful way of dealing with a malfunctioning modernity.”

In describing the lessons he learns about environmental activism and beekeeping, and the facts and data that make halting climate change an urgent matter, McKibben is also composing an ode to home.

rake

No matter where he is or what he is doing, McKibben’s fight to save our planet is driven by an intense longing for home —both the planet that he and his fellow boomers grew up on, and his actual domicile. That desire weaves in and out of the narrative like a red thread through a complicated tapestry.

libraryshrub

“The old cycle we’ve always known is very nearly gone, but not quite,” he concludes. “It lingers yet, and while it does the fight is worth the cost.”

geraniumLonggeranium close

October Morning

20 Sunday Oct 2013

Posted by in environment, meditation, pets

≈ 4 Comments

going in

Crisp, cool, crystal-clear are the adjectives of the day. We walked quietly over a carpet of leaves.

fall carpet

leaves on water

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The tops of pine trees turned to feathers in the sun.

green feathers

The wind above us rubbed the bare trees together until their whines filled the air

cactus in the woods

And a medium-sized dog

stick break

was dwarfed by the old, old, trees.

big trees

We ended the walk in a big field, where Karina turned on the gas and expressed our joy at Being. Right Here. Right Now.

Video:

Field Trip to Brooklyn

14 Monday Oct 2013

Posted by in adult children, environment, music, travel

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 NYC PumpkinsIt is October in New York and these residents, at least, aren’t happy to see this Red Sox fan. I’m a little slaphappy after our whirlwind, less than 48-hour trip to the big city and back.

Saturday night we were up until past 2 am partying with Raya Brass Band.

After a rowdy night and a little sleep (my ears barely had enough time to stop ringing), Older Son made us his usual 4-star breakfast and then we raced over to Prospect Park for a foraging walk. (I’m working hard to feel guilty about the pile of dirty dishes we left him with, but so far that’s not happening.)

As a result, many of my photographs look like I took them after being up all night. I actually considered going out and reshooting these plants in my yard: Ironically, I went all the way to Brooklyn to learn about wild plants that have been growing under my nose for at least 20 years.

The walk was with Marie Viljoen, author of 66 Square Feet: a delicious life. If you haven’t yet visited her blog, I suggest you put on some sturdy walking shoes and head over.

After a night that was months in the planning, and then giving his all while on stage, our musician still had enough game to start the walk by picking some salad.

dandelion greens october

Dandelion greens. Photo by Marie Viljoen. Used with permission. 

It turns out that a lot of plants that have been encroaching on my garden and annoying the heck out of me are actually wild edibles.

For example,

violets

Young violet leaves (not older ones like these), which grow freely all over our yard and have a tendency to take over one of my gardens, combined with lamb’s quarters (below)  will make a lovely salad.

Lamb's Quarters

These pretty little pink plants, called smartweed, that also run rampant around our grounds, are a Thai coriander — just the thing to zip up a meal.

Smartweed

Blue flowers on long stems began popping up among the vinca and other ground cover in my back garden. I was on the fence about them: liked the blue, didn’t like how pushy they are. Marie set me straight. They are called commelina and their shoots, flowers, and seeds are all edible (again, apologies for the tired, unfocused photo).

Commelina

These gallant soldiers have young leaves that taste like sugar snap peas, and can be cooked like spinach. Exactly the kind of motivation I need to do a bit of “weeding.”

Gallant Soldiers

Then there’s goutweed, its leaves add a delicious, herbal taste to salads. Here it is back home mixing it up with my european ginger. I tried pulling the stuff up, but it’s nearly impossible to uproot. In addition, Marie says that breaking off the roots will encourage it to send out more.

Goutweed

I guess we’ll just have to eat it.

My “Talking Art” Column about Heather Robinson

09 Wednesday Oct 2013

Posted by in uncategorized

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One of the perks of hanging out online is that you can connect with interesting people all over the world. According to my bloglovin’ feed, I “follow” close to 40 blogs on topics that include travel, fashion, home design, food, politics, and writing.

In her blog,  “Lost in Arles,” Heather Robinson tackles all of the above and more — and she does it with an artist’s hand. Her work has inspired me in more ways than I can count.

I hope you will read and comment on my “Talking Art” column about Heather in the new issue of Talking Writing, which you will find here.

Nature Girl

21 Saturday Sep 2013

Posted by in adult children, aging, environment, inspiration, politics, writing

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Birches

Never mind what the dream was about. It could have been about so many things: my mother-in-law’s passing last month; my kids being far away; my own mortality, my husband’s, the dog’s… But in the moment of the dream I felt as deep and raw a sense of loss as I’ve ever experienced in waking life.

But then I woke up, and poof, the feeling evaporated. Soon after that, I realized that I haven’t heard the owl this summer. Usually I’ll hear him in the wee hours through the bathroom window, a muffled hoo, hoo, hoo, hoooo floating softly over the grass between our house and the woods.

His (her? their?) call has been a comfort these past 20 years. I first heard the owl a year after we’d moved in while I was in the midst of cancer treatments. That summer and fall, I found the nature here—the owl hooting from the woods, while I lay awake, feeling my poisoned blood pulsing in my abdomen, or a pheasant strolling across the lawn on a sunny afternoon when I was waiting for test results— to be comforting omens.

Being in nature grounds us. And, in fact, it’s good for writers. “Nothing coaxes jumbled thoughts into coherent sentences like sitting under a shade tree on a pleasant day,” writes Carol Kaufmann in last week’s New York Times, “With a slight breeze blowing, birds chirping melodies, wee bugs scurrying around me and a fully charged laptop or yellow legal pad at hand, I know I’ll produce my best work.”

I also heard writer and environmental activist Bill McKibben speak this week about why we must fight to prevent approval to complete the Keystone XL pipeline as one step in solving our climate crisis. He is so smart, so sensible, so inspiring, I hope everyone will join me in reading his new book, Oil and Honey: The education of an unlikely activist.

Nature is one of the things that truly matters to all of us, whether we know it or not. It is what binds us to this earth. We can’t live without it.

Now when I think back to that dream, I don’t worry about my mortality or my family’s — or even the owl’s, who if it was the same one, lived a good, long life.

No, I worry about the end of nature as we know it, and how little time we have to halt its decline. Not succeeding would be the greatest loss of all.

naturegirl

Meandering

31 Saturday Aug 2013

Posted by in art, environment, inspiration, meditation, pets, writing

≈ 1 Comment

crooked road

This summer I’ve begun numerous posts and articles – ideas that haven’t quite gelled. This week alone I started one post on lipstick and another about a news story that I read back in July. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who is good at finishing things, taking a project and seeing it through to the end. When it comes to writing for myself, however, it’s not so straightforward.

This morning, Karina and I went for a walk at Mount Misery. As we wandered down its broad trails, we met a friendly, apricot-colored Cockapoo named Goldie. A little later we heard something big running through the trees. It was a white-tailed deer and Karina gave chase. I called and called, until she finally returned to my side.

A minute later, I heard the loud patter of rain hitting the  leaves above. Under their shelter, only a few cooling drops made it to the back of my neck.

The rain changed the look of the trail and for a few moments, I wasn’t sure which turn to take.  We backtracked, and then I realized we were on the right path after all. That slight change in the light and resulting misstep reminded me that meandering, both in life and in writing, is important—essential, actually.

Those unfinished pieces and half-baked ideas have not been a waste of time. You have to keep working, even when you feel as though you are going nowhere. Regular practice provides us with more opportunities to get lost and then pay attention when we find ourselves on the edge of new territory.

One of the projects I’ve been working on this summer is a piece about an artist I admire. I have learned much from her and her work. Among other things, she has reminded me that making mistakes and following false leads can force you to explore unexpected places. Meandering, wandering, starting and stopping: all good.

Eventually, something will take hold, and you’ll find your way home.

straight road

Summer Vacation

19 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in environment, friendship, health, inspiration

≈ 11 Comments

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Mainemorning

Summer vacation: those two little words convey freedom and release with undertones of adventure;  a break from a routine that is beginning to feel like a rut. The opportunity to read in bed before breakfast, without the usual sense of urgency to get moving. The chance to let loose, be daring — to strip off one’s clothes and dive into the waves lapping against a fogged-in and deserted beach, for instance, or to climb a small mountain and surrender oneself to a rocky, green fairyland.

Cairns

green rocks mosspools mosspools2 mossyrocks rockwall woodsyladder

To vacate that routine, let go, and just wander. Take notice of what it means to live on an island, where discarded stuff eventually gets swallowed by the landscape. 

nestledJeep

Jeep2

Paul and I spent last week with friends in a big house on a small island in Maine. It was a loose, undemanding group. We were able to arrange activities so that everyone got to spend their time the way they liked — including the children, who were happy to hike with any adult willing to take the hardest, scariest climb that day.

We cooked and ate beautiful food, had a front row seat to this year’s perseid meteor showers, and collected treasures from the island’s rocky beaches.

I arrived home refreshed, and, at long last, fully seduced by summer’s glow. I’ll hang onto that whiff of freedom for as long as I can. It’ll come in handy when summer’s light fades and the sea monsters of winter begin their yearly descent.

sea monster_cropped

These Skies Are Meant for Dreaming

09 Friday Aug 2013

Posted by in friendship, inspiration, marriage, mid-life transition, travel

≈ 6 Comments

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Now that the weather has settled down a bit, we’ve been spending a lot of time out on our deck. During the last heat wave, I read out there in the evenings. The sky was amazing.

PinkClouds 1 PinkClouds2 PinkClouds3

A few days later, the humidity blew out and we were treated to a series of cartoon clouds.

Cartoon1 cartoon2 Cartoon4We are also cooking and eating some terrific meals on this deck. Paul has become expert at baking food on the grill that would normally go in the oven — the eggs on top of this shakshuka, for example.

Shakshuka

Last June, I posted a piece that was sparked by a meal on this deck. In it, I shared our dreams of moving on to a different kind of life in a new place. I had forgotten about that post until a couple of weeks ago when I was contacted by an editor at betterafter50.com. They have reprinted the post under the title, “Should We Sell the House?” 

I think we should sell the house. And though it feels like our progress toward that end has been glacial, it has been steady, and we both enjoy the conversations about ‘what-if’ and ‘where.’

We’ll get there, I’m sure. It’s going to take a lot of work and careful planning. In the meantime, though, our head-in-the-clouds dreaming is, as one of my dinner guests from the June post would say, “luscious.”

The sun was bright, the woods were deep….

05 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by in environment, inspiration, meditation, pets

≈ 4 Comments

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heading in

The morning walk is sacred in our house. We go every day without fail unless there’s something falling from the sky that makes it too dangerous. No worries about that on this day. It was a beautiful summer morning.

The sun shot through the rows of trees, lighting up the mossy rocks and stumps. It can be hard to get the camera to see things the way you do. (You’ll see more if you click on the photos to enlarge them.)

woods1 woods2-moss woods3-soldiers

But sometimes a snapshot captures the moment perfectly.

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And other times, your patience is rewarded.

circles