EASY LIKE SUNDAY MORNING...

               IT'S THE END OF AUGUST ALREADY?

This morning it's Sunday, August 26th.  I can't believe we've been here at Ridgehaven almost three months.  That's one-fourth of the year I've given myself for vacationing.  My goodness, how hard it would be if I had to go back to work full-time! I won't think about that today.  Right now, the weekdays meld into weekends...all of them are delicious.

It's hard to write this blog often because we don't DO much to write about, at least that would be remotely interesting to anyone else.  Friday, however, we went for a  hike.  Off the Blue Ridge Parkway is an easy trail we had been told about and decided to try.  (We're still looking for the hikes labeled "easy" or "moderate" since we're still trying to get in hiking shape.  I told Carol I want to hike Mt. Pisgah in the spring, to gauge my progress in hiking since I hiked it a few summers ago and was exhausted by the time I reached the top.  It didn't help any that my great nieces and nephews were scampering up and down the trail like little mountain goats while I was huffing and puffing.  So Mt. Pisgah is my personal measure of whether or not I've improved.) I do have good boots instead of tennis shoes this time around, and that helps a lot!

Anyway, this trail was Graveyard Fields at about 5100 feet.  It's an extremely popular hike, so much so that the parking lot was full of cars when we arrived.  And even with most area schools in session, there were still a large number of hikers on the trail.  I wanted to ask some of the kids why they weren't in school, but with all the home schooled kids these days, and with so many schools not starting until after Labor Day, I decided against it.  Besides, I'm not the Rule Enforcer anymore, so why do I care? 

One of the interesting things about this hike is that there are many wild blueberry bushes along the lower trail.  Most of the berries weren't ripe, but Carol found a spot where there were a fair number of ripe ones.  Always prepared, she pulled out a little plastic bag and began picking them.  She said they reminded her of the blueberries she and her daughter Laura had seen in Maine on their trip up there--the small kind you see in blueberry muffin tins.  She was also reminded of the book Blueberries for Sal, but fortunately Mama Bear never showed up with her baby.  As we were hiking out, another woman was picking berries and mentioned the same book, which she also read with her children.  We finally figured out why we saw so many little trails shooting off from the main one and realized that these were the trails that many blueberry pickers had made.

The trail itself was easy, the only real obstacles being wet patches which we had to circumnavigate.  We hiked to the upper falls through meadows filled with butterflies feeding on thistle, then shady groves of rhododendrons higher than our heads.  Along the path for much of the way was a small stream (maybe the Prong River??) which made me happy with its burbling murmur.  We saw the first inkling of fall color with red leaves on some of the bushes and red vines.  In our neighbor's yard we can see one or two trees turning golden.  Maybe, if we're very lucky, it will be a long, delicious fall!!  We can't wait!!!  I am trying to stop wishing my life away now that I am where I've wished to be, but I do love fall.

I took my pedometer with me, but I didn't trust its reading when it said we had hiked about a mile, but sure enough that was what the mile marker said when we reached a junction.  I think when we finished the hike, the pedometer said a little over four miles around the loop trail, but my legs are short and I'm not sure my pedometer is set correctly.  I think that's pretty close though.  At any rate, Carol and I were both tired when we returned home, and I rewarded myself with a doze in the hammock.

Yesterday was kind of a lazy day for me.  Carol went to "town" to the Wal-Mart and the farmer's market. She purchased some more local honey, which I honestly do think has helped with my allergies.  We had bought some darker blackberry honey before, which I really liked, but this time she bought some sourwood honey from the same guy.  It's much lighter and not as flavorful, but it's still quite tasty.   The bees that have been flocking to our yard are giving some bee keeper some good honey--I'm quite sure of it!

Around noon our friend and neighbor Sue called and invited us to go apple picking.  It was one of those friend-of-a-friend kinds of deals, but we were thrilled to find a place to get free apples.  We met the owners of the property, who introduced us to their five horses and one pig.  We got plenty of apples too, all off two or three trees.  We're not 100% sure what kind they are, but we hope to slice some for cooking and to put up a lot of them for applesauce.  Our poor little refrigerator I brought from home is now crammed full of apples (to be processed when Carol returns from helping her daughter move to Kansas City since I've never done this).  We also have squash and cukes tomatoes from our own garden, which we hope will be decent to put in soups this winter.  We canned seven quart jars of tomatoes ( I DID help with that) and can't wait to use them in those winter stews and soups.  On our way home from apple picking, Sue showed us the home of Charles Frazier, the local writer who wrote Cold Mountain and a few other things.  I don't think he lives there now, but it was nice to see some local color--other than the pig, of course.

When we got home, we watched the John Travolta movie Phenomenon, which is a sweet little love story.  It was so nice having the time on a Saturday afternoon to relax and just chill, with no papers to grade and no chores that had to be done at that moment.  I think that's what I'm enjoying most of all--the time to find the pace of my own drummer and listen to that rhythm, however measured or far away. 

This morning was a slow wake-up day for me.  I slept until almost nine, which is sooooo much better than 5:15.  I have set an alarm only a few times since I retired, and those were for like 8:30!!  Carol was up bustling around, having already found plenty to do.  (She is currently, for the record, reclining on the sofa, so she DOES stop to rest, thank goodness.)  We had breakfast on the porch, watching the birds at the feeder and the hummers and butterflies in the butterfly bush.  Carol had made biscuits using a new recipe (it's a keeper) and we enjoyed some cina-pear preserves from Magnolia Kitchens, courtesy of our friends Jo Paula and Renee.  They were good ladies!!  I was also reminded of the thoughtfulness of my friend Faith, who sent me some lovely little rustic wind chimes which now hang proudly on the porch.

This afternoon we're going to the Haywood County Fair!!  I haven't been to a county fair in ages and ages, or a state fair for that matter, although some of Carol's favorite memories are going to the Wisconsin State Fair.  I did make it to the midway of the Texas State Fair a few times to see Big Tex, but not many.  Today is the last day and we're hoping to see some of the prize winners in the various competitions AND to catch a bluegrass group that is popular up here now, Balsam Range (I think that's the name).  Carol doesn't like bluegrass as much as I do, but these guys seem to be crossover, so maybe she will tolerate them!  That music is in my roots...not so hers.  I think her roots are more the polka beat as found in Milwaukee!

I must confess that the weather-watcher in me is a little concerned about Tropical Storm Isaac.  It feels odd to have a potential hurrican heading toward the Gulf and me not be there to observe first hand the preparations.  Of course, North Carolina got hammered last year, but the coast is clear across the state from here, so it's not quite the same threat.  Go away, Isaac!!

All in all, this new life is so very much appreciated on so many levels.  I think of Henry David Thoreau almost daily up here.  How could I not?

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

LOVING THE SIMPLE LIFE

                           A HEART FULL OF GRATITUDE

Maybe this happens to you.  You just wake up and know that it's a special day.  Not necessarily a day in which something special happens, but a special day nonetheless.  As a short cut, for those of you who understand, I'm going to call it a day in which you experience God's grace.  You didn't ask for it--that's what grace is--it's given.

This morning I woke up before six.  Now that's very unusual for me. I would probably sleep until nine every day if given the opportunity.  But I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went into the den to watch the sun rise.  It wasn't a spectacular one, but the morning was cool (in the low 50s to be exact), the dew was heavy, and the sky was almost clear.  I sat for a while drinking coffee and watching the streaks of light in the east.  I felt a sense of peace and contentment that is not uncommon for me as I'm observing nature. 

Later in the morning, I sat on the porch and watched birds for a while.  This also gives me a sense of serenity that other people may find in a church pew, but I again sensed the wonder of nature and the awesome power that created this world I gazed at.

Carol and I went for a walk around the neighborhood, all the while commenting on how spectacular the air felt.  I know it's supposed to be unseasonably cool right now, but it reminded us of the end of the way September feels in Baton Rouge.  You know what I mean...a hint of fall in the air and a promise that the oppressive heat of summer is over.  We noticed that a few of the plants are beginning to turn in anticipation of fall.  What a treat that will be!!  Fall in the Blue Ridge, from the first falling leaf  to the onset of winter.

This life that I have been given is a great blessing, and today I am feeling, once again, such gratitude for it.  It's a simple life, boring by some people's standards, but amazingly satisfying.  The sheets on the line, the birds at the feeder, even the music on Pandora as I sit and read a magazine called Our State--all of these things emphasizing that this opportunity, at this time in my life, is something years ago I never dreamed possible.

Call it what you want.  Believe what you want.  Don't believe if you don't want.  But this is God's grace. This is God's gift.  I hope that I can continue to appreciate this gift and be worthy of it, every day, every season, every year.

BOOK REPORT...OLD HABITS LIKE YOU ARE HARD TO BREAK

                             READING HABITS

I've recently changed my reading habits slightly.  But only slightly. 

Like the rest of the world, I now find myself reading a few blogs, one primarily--rvsue and her canine crew.  This is a great blog written by a 60ish woman who retired from teaching last year and is full-timing in her Casita travel trailer (like mine!) with her two dogs.  She writes in an easy, smooth, entertaining style about her adventures, the sights she sees, etc.  Nothing too out of the ordinary, but it's one I like to read.  I had never followed a blog before, but I do like this one.

I have also found myself reading more forums.  I have followed the Casita travel trailer forum for several years.  It has wonderful information about the Casita, how it works, how to fix problems, etc.  The people on the forum are very friendly and they don't mind helping newbies figure out their trailer "issues".  I have learned a great deal about Dora, my Casita, but I have also spent money buying stuff as a result of reading the forum members' comments.  In the past week or so, I've begun reading forums about lawn mowing.  How exciting is that???  But I'm trying to figure out which new mower I should buy, and these guys who do it for a living have LOTS to say about mowers!!

I bought a Kindle a few years ago, and when I had more disposable income, I put lots of books on there.  E-readers are a great device for carrying lots of books with you, or for having everything at your finger tips.  I do love my Kindle, even though it's "only" second generation and doesn't have all the fancy bells and whistles.  (I also have an iPad, which is even better for reading except it's heavier.)

But mostly I love books.  Old fashioned books. The kind you actually get to hold in your hand and physically turn the pages.

Most of my family are avid readers, so I come by it naturally.  I remember wanting to learn to read when I was young.  I would look over the shoulder of my brother Glenn as he read the "funny papers" (isn't that a delightful phrase for comics?), and I think he was the first to teach me to read.  I don't remember much about learning how to read, but I do remember being  bored to tears in first grade with the reading circles and with the poor kids who could NOT read.  I guess I must have been reading before I went to school.  I have memories of my grand dad, Daddy's father, reading paperback westerns when we'd go visit them.  In his later years, when he retired, Daddy was a big reader too.  He ONLY read westerns or books about the west, so finding something new for him to like always put me on a quest.  He was a man of very simple pleasures, so if I could find a few new books for him to enjoy, it always made me happy.  One of my saddest memories of him is when he told me he couldn't concentrate enough to read any more. 

When I moved, one of the hardest things I had to do was to get rid of some of my books.  I got rid of diet and exercise  books (many of those), some cookbooks, and lots of novels I know I won't read again.  However, I did choose to save my collections of books from the authors I love.  I read a lot of I guess what you'd call mystery books.  Not Agatha Christy or stuff like that, but authors such as James Lee Burke, John Sandford, and Sue Grafton.  Those authors in particular, and several others who have continuing characters, are among my favorites.  I look forward to their new books with great anticipation.  John Sandford usually publishes a new Prey series book, "starring" Lucas Davenport, in May of every year, and one of my treats to myself for making it to the end of the school year was to go by Barnes and Noble and buy the newest one. 

One of the first things I did in this new house was to put out these old friends of mine on bookshelves in the nook upstairs.  Right now, right behind me, they remind me of the many hours of pleasure I have had from reading them.  Some of the authors I probably won't buy again, simply because I've lost interest in owning them or I've lost interest in their plot lines.  Unfortunately, Patricia Cornwell is one of them.  I used to really enjoy her episodes of Kay Scarpetta, but frankly she's gotten a little bit "around the bend."  I don't know if she ran out of plot material, but she's developed her characters into people I don't really like anymore.  And that's one o my criteria for continued reading:  I have to LIKE the characters.  (As an aside, we're not talking great literary fiction here with my favorites, but I also remember feeling the same way about Anne Tyler's books.  I admired her craft, but I didn't like the people in her novels.)  Others  I won't buy anymore are Jonathan and Faye Kellerman.  Again, I do like their ongoing characters, but not enough to spend retirement money on!  One of the saddest realizations in recent years is that the Nevada Barr series about Anna Pigeon is also not holding my attention.  Anna Pigeon was a character I LOVED, but Barr seems to be getting dark and almost psycho!!  Unless she turns back to the Anna I loved, Barr won't get any more money out of me.  A writer I truly enjoyed but won't be able to read any more of his novels is Tony Hillerman.  Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn were among my favorites, but Hillerman died and all we have left is his legacy.  And Sue Grafton...WHEN are we going to find out what the W book in your series is?  I realize how hard it must be to write this alphabet series, but come on!! You only have four more to go and you and Kinsey can hang it up.  I'm waiting!!

(I have to give a nod to Amy Tan, Jody Picoult and Barbara Kingsolver, who also have a place on my bookshelf.  They don't write continuing characters, and they aren't mystery writers, but I do love them.  I probably won't buy them anymore either, but they're like old friends, waiting for those winter days when I might choose to visit with them again.)

So...now that I'm retired and trying hard not to spend too much money, I have rediscovered perhaps the best old friend of all...the public library.  One of the first things Carol and I did was to get library cards for Haywood County.  I've been to two of the branches and like them both, but the one nearest the house is probably my favorite in terms of atmosphere. The Waynesville branch is always bustling with activity and patron, but the Canton branch seems quieter and more intimate.  We agreed that we could see ourselves here in the winter especially, catching up on magazines and newspapers.  I just read the new Elizabeth George on loan from the library.  She's an author I used to love, but she alienated me and a lot of other people when she killed off a major character.  My niece has sworn off of her completely, and I did too for a few years after that fiasco in plot development.  She's gradually earning her way back into my life, but I doubt I ever actually buy one of her books again.  What DO these authors think sometimes?

When I was a child, like many of my friends, the library provided hours and hours of entertainment.  I recall going to the library and checking out literally arm loads of books, going home and lying on the couch under the swamp cooler in the living room, and reading voraciously.  I couldn't drive myself to the library then, of course, so I had to wait impatiently for someone to take me and let me refill my load of books.  Many times I would finish my stack before I could get a ride, so I was bookless for a few days.  That's NEVER a good feeling.  In recent years, when two jobs took up most of my time, I couldn't read as often as I'd like. (I'm probably one of the few people on the planet who has not read the Harry Potter series...that's pretty bad for an English teacher...and I said I'd read them when I retired.  I still have time!!)  

As much as I love the library, they make you give the books back!!  As a special treat, however, yesterday I went to the little independent bookstore in town and bought the new James Lee Burke Dave Robicheaux novel.  Burke is one of my all-time favorites, and I will buy this series for as long as he writes it.  (I'm wondering, however, if Burke should just let Dave and Clete go.  He's getting darker and darker as Dave ages, and it's sad to see.)

So downstairs, Dave and Clete and their latest adventures in New Orleans and New Iberia are waiting for me.  I SHOULD set up my personal files and begin filing my bills instead of letting them pile up in my mail basket.  I SHOULD put the last of the books in the bookshelf in the hayloft (our bonus room).  I SHOULD do some laundry.

But heck, I'm going to do what I've dreamed of doing for many months, and that's just sit down and enjoy an afternoon of reading, guilt free.

This retirement gig ain't so bad so far!!

ALL BY MYSELF (DON'T WANT TO BE...)

                            ON MY OWN THIS WEEK

For years I've lived alone.  I haven't had a house mate, except for a very short time and if you don't count Mom, since I was in college.  And that was a LONG time ago. Having Mom live with me was different because I was her caretaker and she could not share any of the responsibilities.  But since we moved to Ridgehaven, Carol (who has also lived alone for a decade) and I have shared this lovely house and the responsibilites that go with it.  We were both a bit curious about how we would deal with the need to have time to ourselves, but so far that really hasn't been a problem.  We have two living areas and a bonus room, a large yard with a hammock, and of course the porch.  When I feel the need to take a nap or to have some serious alone time, I have found that the guest room is the perfect place.  I can turn on the fans for white noise (or the window unit AC if I need to), close the door, and read/sleep/doze/repeat the cycle, without interfering with Carol's normal activities. 

Napping is precious to me.  I could be a professional napper, if there were such a thing.  I am a pro.  I really don't understand people who don't nap.  My friend Annie never takes a nap unless she is sick.  When I was working, napping was how I coped.  I would come home from work, nap for a couple of hours, then be able to stay up late grading those stacks and stacks of papers. I'm not much of a couch napper either.  I prefer the bed...for serious naps.  Couch napping usually qualifies as dozing to me and really is not in the same league as true napping.  I would say there is a genetic factor to this love of napping since many members of my family enjoy it as well, but my oldest brother doesn't seem to fit the pattern.  He's more energetic than the rest of us in many other ways, and I do feel that his wife influenced him early on since she is always on the go. My niece Laurie is among the best of the nappers. She's in the same league as me, but now that she's in law school, I bet she values those naps even more.  Her brother, Greg, is the center of a family story about napping in the bathtub.  Once his father was a little concerned about how long Greg had been in the bathtub, so he peeked in on Greg and discovered that he had gone "cypress" with only his knees showing.  (Maybe you have to be from Louisiana to see the humor in that story.)

One of my favorite childhood memories is of taking a nap with my mom.  She did like to nap, and I'm sure that the time she had to rest was limited considering how hard she worked.  But you really had to be still to nap with her or you'd get scolded.  "Be still!!" she'd command.  But I also remember those precious times when I would tell her, "Hold my hand" and she'd reach over as we spooned and take my hand.  Somehow it was much easier for me to go to sleep then.  (This picture reminds me of that image in my mind.) Not many years ago when Mom was living with me and had begun to be ravaged by age and dementia, I cherished those moments when we would lie down together and nap, just like when I was a child.  Only then I felt that I was the one comforting her so that she could relax and go to sleep. Some of the ugly images that are still in my head are of the last days when she was in the nursing home and could not sleep but instead talked incessantly to some unknown people only she could see.  Those disturbing images are fading, but I suspect they will be with me always.   I miss you, Mom.

I used to hate it when my students would nap in class and would really give them a hard time about it.  I considered it a personal insult that they did not find my class scintillating enough to keep them wide-eyed and eager for the next words of wisdom coming from my mouth.  But I also envied them the ability to just nod off sitting straight up (I wouldn't let them put their heads down AT ALL).  As much as I love to nap, the conditions have to be right for me to be able to get to sleep, but some of them could drop off to sleep at at any time, anywhere.  I guess sitting in a classroom for 90 minutes at a time is more conducive to that than standing up and pacing the classroom, as I usually did.  Maybe it's a feat only young people can manage.

So...what am I doing this week now that I'm "all by myself"?  It's been less than 48 hours, so I'm not climbing the walls out of boredom or anything.  The Olympics are on, but I'm tiring of watching off-beat sports.  I've told myself I'd read, but I haven't done much of that either.  Instead, I spend most of yesterday web surfing, which can be an incredibly time-wasting activity.  I'm looking for the perfect walk-behind lawnmower to handle the heavily sloped part of the meadow that I don't feel comfortable mowing on my riding mower.  There is no such thing, of course, but I certainly have done my best to try and find one that will suit our needs.  Actually MY needs, since I am the designated mower.  And I do take my job seriously and want the entire yard and meadow to look good without risking life and limb. But I'm also learning to live on a limited budget since I retired, AND I'm learning that I should consult Carol about major purchases, neither of which I am used to doing.  She is much more frugal than I am while I've too frequently been an impulse buyer, but I do want to be informed about the purchase of our next mower. 

Which reminds me...that's what I'm supposed to be doing today...going into town to talk to some professional mower guys.  Guess I'd better shut this rambling down and get moving!!

FOR DEAR OLD BATON ROUGE HIGH

                       MIXED FEELINGS THIS WEEK

Although the words are not exactly accurate, I've been singing "Maggie May" to myself this week.  You remember the line, "it's late September and I really should be back at school"? Well, for me it's early August and a big part of me is feeling as if I too should be back at school.

My former colleagues at Baton Rouge Magnet High are back at school--in the brand spanking newly renovated Castle on Government Street.  From all accounts, it is an amazing place.  I've enjoyed videos, pictures, and Facebook postings sharing the awe and wonder and excitment of the new building.  I can't wait to see it, and a part of me feels as if I should be there to share the emotions with them.  When I announced my retirement, a huge number of people asked me, "Don't you want to wait ONE more year so that you can at least teach in the new building?"  My answer was always "no", and I haven't changed my mind, but it still feels a bit funny NOT being there to share the opening of school with them.

I have never taught in a new school, so I probably wouldn't know how to act.  My first teaching position was in Plainview, Texas, and the old 7th grade only school was in bad shape.  They build a new one shortly after I left.  Then I taught in Hondo, New Mexico in a decent but older school that burned not too many years after I left.  They built a new one, obviously, but I missed out on that.  Then in Baton Rouge I was at McKinley for five years.  It was older too although not in bad shape at that time.  Then I was blessed enought to teach at Baton Rouge High for twenty-five years.  That lovely old edifice became my home away from  home and captured my heart.  Unfortunately, the powers that be betrayed her, and BRHS became run down and pretty embarrassing when prospective students came to view her.  Then we spent two transitional years at Lee High, which is not in great shape but was no worse than my room at BRHS.  And as of this year...the old girl has been spiffed up and is now, once again, taking her rightful place as a landmark.

Of course, the building is not what makes up a school.  It's the students and the teachers and the administration and the staff.  Mostly the students.  The administration is key if they are bad, but most good administrators lead by getting out of the way and letting good teachers teach.  I have been privileged to teach some of the most incrediblely talented and intelligent young people during the course of my career.  I hope I never took them for granted. I don't think I did, but I'm quite sure I never told them often enough how amazing they were. 

Today's Waynesville paper had an article about how well the local school district has performed in recent years, raising the graduation rate and improving on the state mandated standardized tests.  They should be proud because their scores are usually higher than the state as a whole, and North Carolina is no slacker when it comes to education.  But while they are happy with a graduation rate in the 80% range, I recall that at BRHS virtually every student graduated.  Someone recently reported that we had over 20% of our senior class making a 4.0 or higher.  I know my own AP scores were always quite impressive.  (I've sometimes wondered what the scores are like for the two high schools here; maybe someday I'll be able to find that out first hand, if I sub in one of the schools.)  At any rate, I'm sure the kids here, although they are probably above average, are NOT the quality of BRHS students.  On a side note, I have been distressed to read about three or four high school students here who were arrested for burning a cross in a bi-racial girl's yard recently.  I know prejudice exists at BRHS, but I can't imagine someone doing something like that.  The diverse cultural population at that school was one of the things I liked most about it, and even though there were cliques like in any school, I don't think bullying really existed.  Maybe I'm wrong about that, but most of our kids seemed to pride themselves on how well all the different groups co-existed.  Maybe that's because BRHS is one of the schools where it's not only ok and acceptable to be smart, but it's also encouraged.

                                                                

                    I'LL GET OVER IT--SOON I BET!!

So...I knew this would probably happen.  I suspected that when school started, I would begin to wonder who the NEW Donna Parker would be since I would no longer be a Baton Rouge High English teacher.  I betcha, however, that it won't be long before I get over this feeling of being a fish out of water.  I'll continue to mow the grass, feed the birds, read those books, and catch up on all the TV series I've missed out on because I was so busy.  (We're loving Doc Martin, by the way, as well as Downtown Abbey.  Better late than never!)  I'll continue to sleep until I feel like getting up, stay up as late as I want (or go to bed as early as I want), plan trips in my little house on wheels, and just ...be.  That sounds like a pretty good trade off to me.