Change is inevitable

Still producing...

Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

It was incongruous to pass through the open range land of the Oklahoma panhandle and northwest Texas and see windmills. Not just old fashion stock mills with their circle of vanes romantically catching the wind but the immense new wind generators claw their way slowly through the air.

There's a lot of abandoned homes when you're miles from a town or city. Life is tough.

Change is inevitable. The old windmill still pulls water up for the stock but now it shares a space with towering generators.  And don't you know that when those windmills were introduced, they were the latest and greatest thing.

Panorama of.... nothing. Welcome to the high plains desert. 

Colorado- without Mountains

Pictures from the previous blog that didn't have pictures

 of the spectacular flatness.

Truck coming- jump out of the way!

EMPTY road

Empty road AND crooked horizon-
trust me- it's really flat

Tree

Same Tree

Almost dark- still flat

See what you missed?

PS- I'm in Waco, Texas now- hills, trees, people.... tonight I blog.

Now... I lunch with a friend.


Life is good.

On the road again – South to Texas

I’ve visited all fifty states in the Union, except Vermont and New Hampshire. Most states seamlessly blend into the next.  It’d be hard to tell without the welcome signs whether you’re in southern Virginia or North Carolina.  Eastern Colorado just feels like more of western Kansas- flat and the mountains are still a long way away. 

Yesterday I left my sister in Parker, Colorado and only got as far as Colorado Springs, forty minutes south, before I stopped for breakfast and a visit with a good friend.  Starting out my trip east slow but starting out full of food and friendship.

I left interstate 25 and headed across southeastern Colorado. Past Rocky Ford, the land of the world’s best cantaloupe and, if you followed the news, the home of just one dirty packing house that sent contaminated loupes to the market killing a dozen and shutting down the industry for the entire region last year.  That’s a blow to a one-industry town.

But when I got south of Lamar, I can honestly say it was one of the most desolate places I’ve been on the planet. I remember driving in Andalusia, Spain and thinking that was empty but this is empty and desolate. And flat.  Completely flat. On I puttered, semis passing me and meeting me- on a two-lane road. Luckily the flat part was an advantage there.

I passed a sign “Don’t let the Army buy South Eastern Colorado”. Why not? It looks like a perfect bombing range to me.  The Spanish plain had quaint stone ruins; southern Colorado has broken down shacks, wood roofs collapsing into the concrete block foundations.  Not picturesque, just junky.

And finally I was in the Oklahoma panhandle. And a completely different look. Canyons break up the monotonous flat.  Sturdy wood trestles frame the setting sun as I dip lower than the parallel train tracks.  Windmills silhouette against the pink horizon.

Thank you, Ken Ziegenbein, for the photo.
It's Texas but looks like Oklahoma.

Scruffy trees, winter stripped of leaves, are transformed into a forest of black lacy fan coral with fingers tickling the sky’s failing light.

Random internet photo- the road was too narrow to stop
and I was ready to be done with the day of driving.

And radio.  Colorado, in that desolate spot, doesn’t even receive radio coverage.  Flat, silent, with fading light.  My spirit were sinking as the dark crept closer. No even a beautiful high desert sunset relieved my feeling of isolation and creeping fear about where I would spend the night.  Clearly this is not the land of tourist RV parks. And I would be crazy to drive in the dark with those aggressive truckers.

The lights of a town never looked so good.  Turns out I arrived from the ugly side- or at least, I’ll give Boise “City” the benefit of the doubt until I drive out the other end.  Because, I'm content. I spent a cozy night between two semis at the OK Love truck stop in Boise City, OK.

Friendly, safe, free wifi. So, as the sky softens to pink and my trucker neighbors wander in bleary eyed for coffee and a greasy breakfast, I’ll get in  line for the trek south. 

I'm in search of Texas, adventure and a Mac store for a new power cord so I can import my spectacular photos of flatness.

Wish me luck.   Off to find answers to life and computers. 

Cleaning up and moving out...

What is it about leaving a house behind?  My dear husband used to vacuum the family car... not often, he really expected "someone" else to see the dirt and vacuum the car.  But there was a time when it was his highest priority- right before every trip.

Why?  We're about to pile four kids and their stuff, our stuff like books on tape, extra blankets or towels depending on the season and ... snacks. Lots of snacks.  I'll confess a family "secret" -  once on a long trip to Texas, my son grabbed the nuts, pretzels and Chex mix by the wrong end of the bag and upended it in that empty space between the two front  seats of an old mini van.  It was early in the trip and yes, we carefully ate it off the floor for the rest of the trip.  We still refer to that particular mix as "floor food".  So why vacuum a car at the beginning of a trip? You could save time and aggravation by just using a leaf blower in the car when you return. Especially mini-vans, open those doors and let it rip.

But... it is perfectly rational for me to make myself crazy leaving the house perfectly neat.  After all, it's so nice to come home to a clean house- like four kids and two cranky parents aren't going to dump everything in the middle of the first room and run for a bathroom the minute they get home?  Well, it feels rational.

And now I live alone. I can come home and leave everything in the car and run - to my choice of three bathrooms.  But still, before I leave I clean those bathrooms. I wash the sheets ( and yes, I'll sleep on the outside of them....In my current home, also known as a free place to stay in the Black Hills, I've had lots of company when I'm not here. )  But I also straighten books, mop floors, dust- like that's going to last.  At least I'm leaving it behind clean.

If we're passing through life on our way to the great road trip in the sky, how are we leaving behind our earthly homes?  I will say there isn't anything I'd be embarrassed for a child or even my grown children to find.  Do we think about  our lives leaving  behind the legacy of purity?  And while the obvious comes to mind, purity also means singleness of heart, pure as in untainted- comprised of a single type, pure gold, pure silver.  These are precious metals because they have had the impurities driven out of them.  James says we're not to be buffeted by the wind and tossed to and fro in our doctrines, in our beliefs, in the values that shape our actions.

This afternoon it was 50+ degrees with sunshine and no wind while I loaded the camper. Tonight, as I write, it's 30 degrees, with blowing snow and wind gusts to 50 MPH.  Change happens fast.

I want to be pure - focused on what He's doing in my world, ready to join Him.  Faithful, single minded, not burdened down by my own agenda. An agenda that takes so much time I can't really do another thing or listen for that still small voice.  The voice that often says lay them down and do the ONE thing I'm calling you to... be be faithful - to rest, abide, listen.   The voice that sometimes says, "Lay it all down. Let it go. Move on."

So I clean my earthly house - just in case.  I pack up and try to leave behind a legacy of hospitality and open hands.  I set my  course steady and let the tide come.  I'm trust I'm a long way from my heavenly home and  I don't know what to expect when I arrive there, but this one thing I long to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

It was not a productive day.

I’m leaving in three days - oops, now it’s TWO days. I'm so not ready… finally tackled the $$, tax, number stuff. Mild panic resulted. I despise dealing with finances- I must find someone to teach me or DO it for me.  Maybe a husband isn’t such a bad idea.

The to-do list is as long as my arm. But Clyde, the wonder truck, wasn't starting in the mornings.  So last week, I begged for a place in the queue at the GMC dealer and arrived at ten yesterday morning.  And, of course, they were short on technicians. And there’s nothing like showing up to a garage with a ¾ ton pickup truck with a full size camper installed. “I wasn’t thinking it’d be that big…” Good luck there, big guy.

So, at two in the afternoon, I had cleaned computer files, sorted contact lists and read my email. The dealer had bad coffee but free wifi. When it was clear this was going to take even more time, they offered to take me to my chiropractor a mile away.

And I met a new chiropractor my usual office; gentle hands and adjusted my stubborn neck just right. Ahhh…. that’s better.  And he offered me a TENS unit- a little muscle electric stimulation thingy to help my tight back muscles endure the many thousand miles ahead on my road trip. Excellent.  I can feel them relaxing already.

And it was a fabulous day in Rapid City, South Dakota- sunny as usual (I never get tired of saying that!) and about 50 degrees.  Lovely day for a walk so I set off for downtown and the car dealer.  Rapid has a pretty cool downtown. And you always see more when you’re walking. 

There’s a couple of really old, sandstone houses along the main road – I peeked into the windows and fantasized about owning a cute little stone house… move on, Kathryn.

Oh, that funky purple house is a spa- what a cool patio! I’ll have to check that out next summer.

I meandered into a artist studio/vintage clothing shop and got a business card for… next summer.  I passed up the hookah shop. Wow- and there’s a second one getting ready to open. Who knew…. in the sleepy Midwest? I got some excellent quiche at my new favorite Alternative Fuel coffee shop…and ministry center. Very cool. Picked up a regional magazine- my goal is to get published in it. Soon.

Time for a stroll back to the dealer- wow, I headed into the wind and a reminder that it was January.

Yep, a day “wasted” and expensive to boot. I had one sorta working battery instead of the two batteries Clyde needs. And turns out diesel batteries are expensive. But it pays to be nice; McKie GMC put on two wiper blades… for free.

So even a day that looks unproductive can be good. I met some nice people. I had two hours out in sunshine and fresh air, walking. My back’s in the right place for a few days, at least. I got advice and parts for Bonnie, the camper- about to be initiated by a non-mechanical owner.  And when I read my emails, I was blessed enough for any day. 

I had sent out a lazy version of a Christmas letter-first time I did an electronic one. And those words, sent out into the great cloud of data that surrounds us, connected me to old friends.  I say I just write for myself but that’s not completely honest.  I write for myself to figure out what’s going on inside me. I write so I can clearly hear God’s small voice in my busy head.  I write because I love words. I love to read a well- crafted story and I want to write a good story,too. And I publish to connect with the rest of the world. One person at a time.

So now it’s too late at night to figure out the spiritual truth in all of that… except a day that looks wasted never is. I didn’t accomplish a lot but my soul was fed by my friend’s response to my blog- thank you, Juanita, my kind, kind friend. I’m so glad we’re in touch again.  My spirit was lifted by being kind to a frazzled service department and I pray I was a blessing to them.  It was the kind of day where I could stop in the middle of all the complications and say, “It’s all good.” 

Wow- it was productive. Productive in a way that will last far longer than just cranking through a to-do list.  What does God want to produce in your days?  Peace, patience, long suffering- JOY!

Old Friends and the Long View

My dear friend came last week.  She boarded a plane in busy Philadelphia and arrived in busy Denver. She went to the VERY end of the Denver airport concourse, walked across the tarmac and boarded a much smaller plane to Rapid City.  Why was she surprised when she got off the plane, walked across the tarmac again and out onto the edge of the prairie... not busy Philadelphia?

Her 2PM flight was the last of the day in Rapid City. TSA employees said farewell to each other. The airport looks like a bus terminal anyway and it's being remodeled.  No coffee shop, no friend to pick her up- I had the time wrong and was on my way.

SO there she stood... and it was quiet. Still. Silent. Big and empty. Definitely not Philadelphia.

We are old friends - we had babies together when our husbands were young and invincible.  We've watched each other's children grow. We stayed at their home and they at ours. She and her husband drove down to see Bill as he was dying. The kind of friend that you don't have to spend much time with to pick up the conversation again.  A life-long friend.

Gee, where is all the usual tourist traffic?

Just around the corner from Mount Rushmore.  George himself. 

And as we drove around in a sepia world of  fresh snow on dark trees and pale stones, we talked. Life, kids, husbands.  New seasons and old.  Hopes and regrets.  What we hide from ourselves and from each other.  What we want to be when we grow up.  The questions of life to dig into with a friend for life.

The long view. 

I thought of George- up there on his mountain. Looking over a prairie landscape so unlike his native Virginia.   He has a long view from up there. 

And sometimes we have the long view for our friends.  And they for us.  Life is too hard to figure out alone, find a friend and see what their view is.  Be real and honest. Let them tell you, "You can't see the big forest because of all the trees right in your line of sight. But I can. I've been there too. It's ok. It's going to be ok"  The long view. 

The silence was good for my friend as it's good for me. The big empty spaces reminded us of the hardy pioneer women who walked here,  rode wagons, birthed babies, grew flowers and cattle.  Women who created a life in this fragile and yet, hostile climate. Women who lived with life and death,  abundance and want,  living a life that may or may not have had the long view.  Each generation must chose to lift up their heads and look. 

She told me she liked that I was making a new life, in a new place.  She saw the big picture in my life. That's what friends do- they point out the good things that are happening. They lift one another up. They gaze out at the distance and offer each other hope. 

Are you that life friend for someone?  Or do you long for one?  In a world that seems to focus on surviving, not thriving... we have this great wisdom from CS Lewis-  

C.S. Lewis Friendship Quotes

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.”

Read more: http://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/bible-verses-about-friendship-20-good-scripture-quotes/#ixzz1k2qIuaZJ

Let's thrive together- as friends! 

The adventure always includes friends......

It's FREEZING.....

Rest Of Tonight...Mostly clear. Lows 8 below to zero. Northwest winds 10 to 20 mph. Wind chill readings 20 below to 30 below zero. 
http://www.findlocalweather.com/pinpoint/us/sd/deerfield+lake+recreation+area/current50442.html



OK- got it. Thank you, Weather People.



Wow- yesterday it was 54 degrees and I was loading my camper. Today, it was 4 degrees when I pulled into my driveway. My car said, "It's really cold out here! Get me in the garage, woman."  Clyde doesn't like cold like this either - his battery keeps draining. 




But yesterday, I was the diligent ant, not the foolish grasshopper. Anyone else remember that tale?  The busy ant prepared for winter while the grasshopper fiddled and frittered away his time. 
(And the ant let him in and fed him during the freezing cold and enjoyed a winter fiddle concert.) 

Moral of the story - learn to play an instrument!

  But that ant did not lift logs the size of these puppies. 

This is wood my father cut at least ten years ago.
Nothing decomposes quickly out here!

These are the ones I left.

Not because they were too heavy- they were so dry, I  can lift them! 

I am woman, hear me roar!

But they don't fit into my enormous fireplaces's little fire box. 

And I don't do ax or wedge and sledgehammer suff.

I am a smart woman. 

  I'm keeping all my fingers and toes. 

Instead I  load lots of small stuff!
And Clyde is now  my temporary wood box.
This is DRY pine- burns fast and gives up less BTUs.

 Back in the fall,  I asked Larry, "So what do you burn out here?"

He stood silently and  looked at me.  Slowly he looked around,
"See anything but pine trees?"

Nope.  Just pines.

Okay... so out here, we burn pine. And clean our chimneys.
I burn cardboard too. It's piled in the garage and it's free.
And doesn't need an ax.

I thought this was some kindling.
It's mostly rocks but I had to get right up to it to see that.
Lots of shades of brown and gray here. Lots of rocks.
Do rocks give BTUs?

So the wind blows and the ground freezes. Animals tuck in for the winter.

 And so do I! 

This is just wishful thinking.... espresso from Italy

Ahhh.....

     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

And before our temperature dropped like a brick,
the newly restored steeple was replaced  back on
The Little White Church in Hill City.

They are diligent worker ants, too.   Just a bit more roofing to secure.
Too cold now!  And it's all volunteer labor.

If you're warm and dry and spending the winter nights indoors, be grateful.

 If you see someone who isn't, be kind.  

Maybe they provide Life's music. 

Single- It's Just a Word

It's winter in the northern hemisphere.  Dark too early. Dark too long.


I don't do well in winter.  My mother's words are deep in my soul, "You are the moodiest child...."  Growing up in Alaska, I  probably was depressed, even as a child. Alaska winters tend to drive adults to drink or Hawaii. I didn't have the funds for Hawaii.

So the holidays are over - the anticipation and festivities drift away and I'm settling into dread.  And I'm single.

Suddenly, that matters. Old sourdoughs in Alaska hibernated alone in isolated cabins, maybe with a dog or two. I don't want a dog. I don't even want an old sourdough to share the cabin. But I get lonely.

If I had a big screen television or cable or even streaming video on my laptop, I'd hibernate in true American fashion. With cookies. And feel single, alone, solitary, a lone soul.
In the dark. with cookies. ( hear sad violin music....)

Instead, last night I checked out events in Rapid City, my closest, consistent source of culture, and found a Native Americana concert at the Dahl art center. Excellent!  Live music, Native culture, and a free night at the art museum.   That's all it takes to get me off the couch and into make-up and some cute clothes.  Amazing I won't do that for just me.... well, actually that was just for me.

So off thirty miles to Rapid City, largest town in a hundred miles radius, population fifty thousand or so.  Seventy-five of us almost filled an appropriately dark room with white washed branches throwing patterned shadows from the spotlights. A small stage.  And two acts.  Native. Americana.  I missed the "a" on the end of America.

Our perky MC said, "No leathers and feathers tonight. We want to showcase Natives in contemporary music."  Leathers and feathers. Hadn't heard that but it rings true. I assumed native drums, which I love, and maybe Lakota keening, which takes some getting used to and for me, a little goes a long way.  Like listening to any foreign language, you feel like a bit of an idiot sitting there and missing the point.  It's about the words, you know. And I missed the word Americana.

 Scatter Their Own from the Pine Ridge Reservation brought acoustic and bass guitars. A man and a woman. And it was great. He sang Native inspired lyrics AND covered Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix.  A symphony of notes trilled from his hands.What creativity, what fun for us who shared the room. Then a member of the Crow nation produced his acoustic blues with some reggae, rock, whatever. Cary Morin's an amazing musician.  His hands flew. His voice crooned. It was live music and it was good.


So.... my perceptions changed a bit last night. Native doesn't always mean leathers and feathers. And single doesn't always mean alone-

n. legal definitions for interpersonal status, a single person is someone who is not in a relationship or is "unmarried"


only one in number, one only,
lone, solitary or sole 


or


unique- distinct from other things
pertaining to or suitable for one person
singled out- to pick or chose, distinquish by separation

I like that- unique, distinct, suitable for one person, 

singled out, chosen. 

So on dark Dakota nights  I can feel like the only one in the world or I can meet, mingle, have my perceptions broadened-  by choices in music, by choices in words. 






http://scattertheirownband.tumblr.com/

http://carymorin.com/
.

A Word for 2012

"Create"- 

Bring (something) into existence Cause (something) to happen as a result of one's actions
	make - produce - originate - generate - form - cause

Tall orders to issue to yourself!  But that's my word for this new year.  I have some "empty" time this winter and I intend to be creative and to be creative means to create. I'll write about this more in the months ahead but for now, I have some simple goals. Simple things to create.

 

I'm creating better health- I go to physical therapy and do the exercises I'm given. Simple. It just requires discipline- only God can say, "And let there be... " and it appears.

 I can and do speak health to myself but I also must lay on the floor and stretch my muscles.  Hmm.. I'd rather just speak it into existence. 

Creativity takes discipline and obedience to the truth you've been given. 

I'm creating order- again, no pronouncements into the cosmos and the stars automatically align. Nope, I'm sorting paper work and building files, preparing for taxes. That's not creative!  I'd rather be painting or writing or almost anything. 

But if God used His words and His energy to create order from cosmic chaos - why shouldn't my world reflect the creativity of order?  Why shouldn't my energy be expended to bring order and its resulting peace into the small corner of the world I've been entrusted with?  

Creativity means using my energy to do tasks I'd rather not do. 

I'm creating a book. There I said it. My goal is to publish and to publish, you have to have written material. Edited and rewritten material.  Edited, rewritten and aimed at an audience not just blogged out into space.   I'm in a great writing group and I've discovered I'm a sloppy writer. Ouch.  Yes, I can create a lyrical phrase, I can be a tad amusing. And I can be a mess to follow.  

God gave clear directions to His people. He told them how to make a tabernacle, then a temple. He gave commandments in stone. And finally, he came as a man and spoke in simple  stories and parables that his intended audience usually understood.  He took time to make his message known. I'm not writing Scripture but I want my words to be life affirming, life transforming. 

Creativity means laying myself aside and crafting for eternal purposes. 

So in this year of 2012, I'm learning a new vocabulary for creativity. I'd rather creativity be "lock myself in a fun studio, ignore the world and chaos around me,  and produce wonderful works of art and literature". 

 But instead it looks like I need to "cause (something) to happen as a result of one's actions" - work on discipline for my body, tackle some chores with a new outlook,  keep an eternal mindset for my chosen craft. 

Sounds creative to me! May you also find creativity in unexpected places this year.  

Word of the Year...

I love words.  Word of the Day... expand your vocabulary, impress your boss, etc.  Or just savor a new word.

For the last few years I have meditated on a word for the year.  Last year I confidently chose "Confident". Not because I have much but because I knew this - For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus Phil 1:6    Turns out you gain confidence not by having knowledge of a great Bible verse but by stepping out boldly and falling on your face. Repeatedly. 


2011 was my year of dealing with professionals who knew way more than I did- did, I've gained some valuable knowledge. I bought a car, actually a very large pickup truck.  And a camper. Clyde, the wonder truck, and Bonnie. The camper. I know, it's not too original but Clyde is for big Clydesdale horses and Bonnie is a, well, Clyde's partner. Not in crime. 


I've learned a bit about preparing a house for the sale market. I learned about dealing with realtors, painters, stagers,  tree trimmers, electricians, deck builders, county inspectors, VA appraisers, loan officers, title company administrators, etc.  I hoped to never need this information again but I am also learning to never say never!


I learned that I cannot commit to long term agreements with people who dominate me. I've learned not to make decisions when I'm exhausted - unless there's blood involved, there's no need to rush.  I learned that when you don't understand something, no one minds questions but no one thinks to volunteer the information you need. Looking stupid is less painful than actually being ignorant.  


I learned to insist on a job well done or repeated until right.  I learned people respond better to direct praise or criticism than to hear it from a third party.  Confrontation is hard and I naturally prefer to have people like me than to confront them.  Turns out, not standing up for myself backfires - eventually the stress of ignoring conflicts blows my cork. When I blow my cork, it usually hits someone else.  Someone I was afraid to confront.


So I learned that when my cork blows up and smacks people, they don't like me anyway.  Like the lawyer asked me, "So how's that working for you?" That's a first - getting legal advice for a conflict. In the process, I've learned that a good contract trumps assumed intent every time.  That may prove useful.   


So where does that leave me? Still confident that He is perfecting a good work in me. And confident that I cannot do this on my own. Philippians says He'll complete the WORK He began.  Work, not magic.  I'm still not a naturally confrontational person - that's not a prime goal in my life anyway. But a bit wiser, a bit sadder - isn't an easier way to grow up?  Who knew it would take this long to figure out life?


But at the end of the day and the end of 2011,  I sold a house, I dismantled a life, I moved across the country, I started a new life. Hey, should have built some confidence!  Confident that He is doing a work in me and I don't have to know what the end will look like. Confident that no matter how horrible a trial is, God created our memories to block most of it. Confident that people generally want to help and I have great friends.  Confident that I'll keep falling on my face but only if I step out boldly.  Look out 2012, here I come !