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.

Time's Fun When You're Having Flies

It's getting pretty scary how fast the days are flying by. For example, it's already Friday and I can't really account for what I did this week. Let's see, I read a couple of novels, mowed the grass, went to "town" on errands one day, went to Folkmoot...and today screwed around in the hayloft (the bonus room above the garage) much of the day. That's it other than sitting on the porch watching the hummingbird wars. As someone dear to me used to say, "I haven't accomplished much today."

But isn't that exactly what I'm enjoying about retirement? Yes. For too many years I had every day structured by work, family commitments, more work, and then work at home. Chores were onerous because they took away from what little free time I had, so I resented doing them. Now, it seems that chores get done when I feel like it so they aren't that big a deal. No, I don't love them and would still rather sit and read a book rather than clean house, but I don't resent doing them.

So...what bothers me about the days flying by? A sense of my mortality, I suppose. And my increasing awareness of the aging process. I've been at Ridgehaven seven weeks, which is hard to believe. That's almost two months...out of twelve...which is one-sixth of the year of total vacation I have given myself. I'm loving this stress-free, carefree life and would love to be able to keep doing this forever, but I will probably need to earn some money at the end of this vacation year. So part of the awareness of the passage of time is kind of like counting down the end of summer vacation, but I think there's more to it than that. Fear? Maybe. But fear of what? Increasing infirmity? Aging? Death? I keep telling myself to get in shape, to get the weight off, to decrease my chances of illness caused by lifestyle, but I haven't done much about it yet. Same old story.

Today I found out that a good friend of mine has a sister who is dying after a "routine" gall bladder surgery. She's only 72. And Carol has a cousin who is about to be taken off life support. He's in his 60's. I guess part of what I'm feeling is that I love my life so much at this point that I want it to stay this way forever. Silly, I know. Impossible, I know. But I just want to soak up these wonderful days and not feel as if I'm squandering them. I do believe that we can choose fear or choose love. I do not want to live in fear, so today..tonight...at this moment, I choose love. I choose to love my life today and not fear what tomorrow brings. I choose "the prayer that never fails"--thy will be done.

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men and other Tales

              ADVENTURES ADVENTURES ADVENTURES

This has been a weekend of adventures for us here at Ridgehaven.  Yesterday started off with our weekly visit to the Farmer's Market in Waynesville to buy fresh corn and peaches.  Then, since it was the first weekend of Folkmoot, we went downtown for a look at the visitors from foreign lands. Waynesville sponsors this event every July, when cultural exchange groups from a few countries come here to dance, sing, and display their wares.  I'm not sure how a small town in western North Carolina came to be this Folkmoot center, but it's a nice event.  We kept missing the performers we wanted to see, but our meanderings through the festival crowd made for a nice morning.

Last night, we were prepared to go see the HMS Pinafore in nearby Brevard, which houses a wonderful summer music center with very good young performers of high school and college age.  One of Carol's former students was the assistant director of the program and had graciously arranged for us to pick up some tickets and come see the performance.  Well, on our way out of Canton, we decided to take the short cut to I-40 (yes, I know...) we THOUGHT we had learned about last week from our neighbors Mike and Sue.  Long story short, we got on the wrong road.  We KNEW it was the wrong road but kept thinking that we would eventually feed us back on the road we needed to be on.  NOTE TO SELF:  roads in the mountains run through valleys and coves and not over major mountains.  Ok...so after we finally looked at my GPS on my iPhone, we decided we had to turn around and retrace our steps.  In case you're wondering, Dutch Cove is a very nice little area...but I don't recommend it if you're trying to get to Brevard.

We finally got back on the highway and made our way to Brevard, but we were running short on time and didn't get to eat at the restaurant we had wanted.  Instead, we ate at a place Carol had been to a short time ago, Mayberry's.  Across the road is the O.P. Taylor toy store...get the theme here?  After a hasty meal, we hightailed it to the Music Center, only to find that our tickets were not waiting for us at All Call.  However, Carol got us in, nice tickets, and we got seated with just minutes to spare before the performance.  But wait...why is a full orchestra on stage for a Gilbert and Sullivan opera?  Hmmm...Oops!! We were at the wrong venue!  The performance WE were looking for was a Brevard College!  Fortunately, Brevard is a small town and we weren't far from the college, so after a trek to the car and a hurried drive, we found the auditorium...so why were there no cars there?   Uhhhhhh...because after looking on my iPhone at the Music Center's website, we discovered that the performance had been at TWO o'clock and not 7:30!!!  Rats.  Carol felt awful that we had missed her friend's performance, especially after she had made special arrangements for us to have free tickets, and we were both disappointed not to be able to see Pinafore.  I gave my best rendition of "I am the Captain of the Pinafore and a right good captain too.  I'm very very good, and be it understood, I command a right good crew."  I especially like the line, "Bad language  or abuse I never never use, whatever the emergency.  Though 'bother it' I may occasionally say, I never use the big big D."  Some of you who know me may be asking, "What never?"  No, never.  "What never?"  Well, hardly ever!!  I completed my limited recollection from 8th grade choir with a few lines as Buttercup, but I think Carol was still wishing for more. 

So, what does one do with an unexpected night in Brevard?  If you're Carol and Donna, you beat it back downtown to the chocolate store, that's what!  Ah yes...there's nothing like dessert to soothe the sadness of a missed performance.

We decided to take the twisty-turny highway 276 back home, and after about an hour of intense driving, we returned to Ridgehaven, glad for our adventure but definitely devoid of culture.

       LOOKING FOR CATNESS AND DANIEL DAY LEWIS



Triple Falls



This morning, we decided it was time to get back to our pledge to hike once a week, so we embarked on our trip to Dupont State Forest, again heading to Brevard and then east.  We had read and heard about the great waterfalls there (Transylvania County is known for its many waterfalls), and Carol had planned for us to hike to three falls, all close to one another.  With a picnic basket, a small ice chest, and our hiking boots waterproofed and ready to go, we set out.  This time we had no false starts.  We found the very crowded parking area (note to self:  avoid Sundays during high tourist season), then hiked to Hooker Falls, Triple Falls (the site of many movie scenes, including The Hunger Games), and then on to High Falls.  We had hoped the day would be a bit cooler, but it wasn't too bad.  I'm sure many of the young girls we encountered were looking for Catness, but I still had my eyes peeled for Daniel Day Lewis.  I'll take Natty Bumppo any day!  Sadly, we saw neither of them, but we did have a nice hike.  Hungry by this time, we asked a Friend of Dupont State Forest volunteer for some suggested picnic sites.  We ended up at Fawn Lake, which frankly sounds nicer than it really was, but we got in another mile or so of hiking on the way in and out.

 



High Falls



On our way out of town, we stopped at a wonderful ice cream stand and treated ourselves, then headed home.   I promptly crashed for a couple of hours--glad once again to be back on the hill. 

Poems and Other Thoughts

                   THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS

This poem by Sara Teasdale  has a title which has always appealed to me.  Even though the poem is about how nature will survive and continue to flourish even if man destroys himself by war, the first part of the poem has always epitomized for me the loveliness of slow, gentle rain falling.  My high school senior English teacher, Dorothy Perkins, was the first to introduce me to "fine English mists."  Growing up in West Texas, I either knew about thunderstorms which produced downpours and floods and baseball sized hail, or I knew of drought.  But I have definitely come to love the soft rains of summer.  I appreciated the fact that Baton Rouge receives a good deal of rain, and like my sister-in-law who lives in Colorado, I love the Louisiana rains.  (Those of you living in BR would tell me enough is enough, however, since you've had quite a lot in recent days. If you saw the map on the network news tonight of all the states which are still suffering drought conditions, maybe you wouldn't mind the rain.)

Here at Ridgehaven, we have had a good bit of rain this past week as well.  For about three wonderful days, it rained slowly and softly and gently.  Mornings and evenings both, the ridges between us and Cold Mountain were heavy with fog and mist, which fascinates me to no end to just watch from my recliner on the porch.  We had about 2 1/2 inches of this kind of rain, which was much needed by the yard, the meadow, and the garden.  Sunday we had the hardest rain I've seen up here with over 2 inches falling within about 45 minutes.  Although I'm sure much of it rain off, I was glad to see it.

My sweet Gladys

My friends sometimes laugh at me because I watch the Weather Channel so much and am so interested in what the weather is going to do.  I guess that's the Bill and Gladys in me.  Although I grew up as a city girl, I suppose my fascination with weather is ingrained in me from all those years they spent on the farm.  Mom amazed me by always knowing what direction the wind was coming out of, no matter what town she was in.  "The wind is getting up out of the south, she'd tell me."  I am so directionally challenged I can barely tell what direction south is even looking at the compass in my truck, but she had an incredible sense of direction.  Mom, the farm woman, would also appreciate the garden Carol has put in.  We've enjoyed yellow squash, zucchini, radishes, and hopefully soon some wonderful tomatoes.  Carol grew up in the city too, but her dad was a farmer at heart and still loves his garden, and it makes me happy to see this long-time dream of hers, our own vegetable garden, coming to fruition (is that a mixed metaphor???).  In a few weeks when she goes out of town, it will be my responsibility to care for the garden, so I better start memorizing what plants are what.  I'm good with many of them, but not the carrots and onions and radishes.  I guess if something starts poking itself out of the ground, I'll pull it up and see what's there!!

              GOOD FENCES MAKE GOOD NEIGHBORS

There's another poem I think most people misunderstand about neighbors.  Contrary to popular belief, Robert Frost was not advocating walling out one's neighbor, I don't think.  Instead, he seemed to be quoting the popular saying where he lived.  Fortunately for us, we don't have a fence  between ourselves and our wonderful neighbors.  In fact, fences would completely ruin the view we have from our porch.  Each of the four houses in this...what...subdivision...has anywhere from 2-4 acres, with all the yards blending into one giant meadow.  So we can each see the others' property pretty easily, and actually see into the others' lives as well.  One family, with teenage children, have a pool, and the laughter of kids at play is always a good sound.  Another neighbor is very project oriented, and we love to observe the progress he makes on his landscaping.  Yet another neighbor and his wife are also retired, and we enjoy their company very much too.  They developed this little cove with the four houses, and although we once wondered how picky they would be, we have found them to be wonderful neighbors who are generous, kind, and funny.  We enjoyed going to Asheville yesterday with them to see a movie, and we hope we will continue these shared adventures.  Finally, we have a lovely lady and her mother who live in the cabin above us, and although we don't see them as often, we know they are there and appreciate how they watch over our place when we are gone.  We can see their cabin from our upstairs window, and it is comforting to know that yet another good neighbor is close by.  One of the things I enjoy most about Ridgehaven is that it feels rural but not isolated.  Six miles out of Waynesville, twenty or so miles from Asheville, but a world away from the hectic life we left behind.  Yes, we are blessed with good neighbors.  We are still the new kids on the block so to speak, and when we walk in the neighborhood behind us, we still get looks that say, "I wonder who those people are and where they live."  Soon, hopefully, we will know those neighbors as well.

after the rain

My life at Ridgehaven is quite boring by some people's standards, I'm quite sure.  But I'm loving it!!

Welcome to Our Porch

               This Porch is More Than Just a Porch

When you come to Ridgehaven, you will undoubtedly be introduced to The Porch.  Our porch is...special.  It is an extension of the house, yes, but it also is a symbol of all that Ridgehaven means to us:  peace, natural beauty, quiet, contemplation, dreams fulfilled.  We hope our visitors who seek comfort find these same pleasures here.  We both put in years of hard work and effort to be able to enjoy its wonders on a daily basis. And enjoy it we do!

RIDGEHAVEN

Our house is situated at the top of a hill (hence the name) and faces south and east toward the Pisgah National Forest.  Prominent in our view from the porch is Cold Mountain, of book and movie fame, and Mt. Pisgah.  The sun rises over Mt. Pisgah (not that I have seen many sunrises yet), but for the past few days the ridges between us and the Blue Ridge have been wrapped in clouds and mist.  I would have used the word "shrouded", but that is much too dismal and sad a word for what we see.  Wisps of clouds are magical and ephemeral, lending a fantasy-like atmosphere.

We dine on the porch; we recline on the porch; we read on the porch; we watch birds on the porch.  But mostly we just enjoy the ambiance of it all.  A little hummer aptly named Ruby stakes out a tree in the yard and is ever vigilant of her territory, chasing away those who come to invade.  Unlike Ruby, we enjoy sharing our porch with everyone.  We are quite self-satisfied with the additions we have recently made to our decor.  Our house is still in something of a mess since we moved in permanently only a few weeks ago, but the porch is all dolled up, waiting for us to enjoy it.

Oh yes...what do we SEE from the porch?   I'm sure you'll see this view in all its glory throughout the seasons.  It may get boring to you to see the same view over and over again, but not for us.

Welcome to Ridgehaven.  Welcome to The Porch.

 

And so it begins...

Ok.  I'm really gonna do this.  I have promised myself that I will start a blog to chronicle this wonderful thing called retirement, so I'm going to begin today.  I'm not sure what all I will include in these daily ramblings, but I will make an effort to record this adventure for myself and for anyone who's interested in reading it.

I did have a blog for a while years ago, but I've forgotten pretty much everything about how to post pictures and stuff, so be patient.  I WILL get better.