Earlier this week a friend sent me a review of a book entitled Not Quite What I Was Planning with a challenge to write my own six word memoir. I thought it sounded like fun and sent the challenge along to some friends. Only one of them, Naomi,took it up. I have received several efforts from her (Life's journal penned in disappearing ink., I didn't bargain for all this.) She's still playing with it. I imagine I'll be getting some more from her.
My first effort was: Sounds like fun; let me think.
I really like the idea of trying to condense parts of your life into such an economical statement. It's fun to try to find very few words to represent pieces of what you've experienced. Gail is leaving for Tacoma today for an interview. I can sum up these past few months of our lives, when we've been trying to decide whether to stay in Laramie or leave, with this: You're gone. I am here waiting.
I've written a lot about this winter but what I've written could be condensed into this: It's cold. Will summer ever come?
I know these are riffs on what the original book wanted to do which is take the themes of your life and put them into a few words. Here's another effort at that:
My life isn't what I expected. Which I think really gets at one of life's truths I've come to know.
I invite you to give it a try. See if you can come up with some. Put them in the comments section.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Frozen Fog
Last Saturday I drove from Laramie to Silverthorne, CO to visit my nephew and his family who had come out from Florida to do some skiing. I went the back way, over the Snowies through North Park to Walden then to Kremmling. From there I followed the Blue River valley to Silverthorne. It's about a 3 hour or so trip depending on the weather, of course.
We have had much more snow this year than any year since we have lived out here
(2001). This became very apparent as I got up the grade to the top of the mountains. The cabins along the road had two or three feet of snow on their roofs. Very picturesque. I want to stop and take a couple of shots, but there was no place to pull over. I continued into North Park and into monochromatic splendor. Everything was frosted white from the effects of frozen fog. The thick rime frost was on every surface, weeds, wires, bushes and trees. The sun had broken through, but the frost had not started to melt. Every bend in the road, the crest of every hill brought a new picture just begging me to take it. But there was all that snow, it lay deep across the fields clear up to the road where the plows had left high berms right up to the edge of the road. No place to pull off and I couldn't stop in the middle of the road. All this beauty and now way to capture it to share.
When I got to Muddy Pass which is where you turn north to go to Steamboat and south to go to Kremmling, there was finally a turn lane where I could safely stop. Here's what I saw.
I missed many wonderful shots because there just was no safe way to stop. Those shots are in my head. But here is one more. There were pull outs that had been plowed by a lake.
Still, while looking at these pictures, I know the limitations of photography and what I have pictures of is not what I saw.
We have had much more snow this year than any year since we have lived out here
(2001). This became very apparent as I got up the grade to the top of the mountains. The cabins along the road had two or three feet of snow on their roofs. Very picturesque. I want to stop and take a couple of shots, but there was no place to pull over. I continued into North Park and into monochromatic splendor. Everything was frosted white from the effects of frozen fog. The thick rime frost was on every surface, weeds, wires, bushes and trees. The sun had broken through, but the frost had not started to melt. Every bend in the road, the crest of every hill brought a new picture just begging me to take it. But there was all that snow, it lay deep across the fields clear up to the road where the plows had left high berms right up to the edge of the road. No place to pull off and I couldn't stop in the middle of the road. All this beauty and now way to capture it to share.
When I got to Muddy Pass which is where you turn north to go to Steamboat and south to go to Kremmling, there was finally a turn lane where I could safely stop. Here's what I saw.
I missed many wonderful shots because there just was no safe way to stop. Those shots are in my head. But here is one more. There were pull outs that had been plowed by a lake.
Still, while looking at these pictures, I know the limitations of photography and what I have pictures of is not what I saw.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Something for the gray days of February
I read in the paper this morning that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shawdow yesterday. Shoot, he should have been in Laramie. It was cold, gray and snowy all day. If he had managed to poke his nose out of the solidly frozen ground here, winter would be over soon. As it is we won't see spring until May.
Winter has been howling here. The roads west have been closed on and off for most of the last week due to white out conditions. WYDot has been trying to keep I 80 plowed, but the wind covers the pavement up almost as soon as the plows pass by.
The winds have been awful. Steady winds of 30 to 40 with gusts of 60+ have been blowing most days. Coupled with temperatures which haven't been above freezing and you have a really dangerous situation. The forecast is stuck on wind and blowing snow.
Everyone here is complaining about the gloomy weather and whining about how tired of winter they are. We have had more gray days than sunny ones which is unusual for here. Flu season has arrived and lots of people are sick.
I will spend the entire month grant writing which means long hours and working weekends. UGH
February has little to recommend itself except for one thing.
This is one of the amarylisses that I planted before Christmas. The other is like an reluctant groundhog and apparently doesn't want to poke its nose out. This one however, is glorious and well worth the wait.
Winter has been howling here. The roads west have been closed on and off for most of the last week due to white out conditions. WYDot has been trying to keep I 80 plowed, but the wind covers the pavement up almost as soon as the plows pass by.
The winds have been awful. Steady winds of 30 to 40 with gusts of 60+ have been blowing most days. Coupled with temperatures which haven't been above freezing and you have a really dangerous situation. The forecast is stuck on wind and blowing snow.
Everyone here is complaining about the gloomy weather and whining about how tired of winter they are. We have had more gray days than sunny ones which is unusual for here. Flu season has arrived and lots of people are sick.
I will spend the entire month grant writing which means long hours and working weekends. UGH
February has little to recommend itself except for one thing.
This is one of the amarylisses that I planted before Christmas. The other is like an reluctant groundhog and apparently doesn't want to poke its nose out. This one however, is glorious and well worth the wait.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Sunrise, sunset.
As I sit here watching the sunrise, it seems like a good metaphor for this entry. Or maybe it is just a good way to spend a little time early in the morning before the day really gets started. I thought this sunrise was going to be a spectacular one and it still may be. There are a few clouds in the east which had started to pink up, but they have faded back to gray and it is still a while before the sun crosses the horizon. I’ll keep you posted as I continue to write.
I have thought a lot about what I would like to do with all that time which may comprise the next phase of my life, retirement. I have a plan. I am smart enough to know that I do need to have some idea, some goals for myself, otherwise I will just fritter the time away in frustration, boredom and futility.
Ah, now this sunrise is showing some promise. The clouds have gotten rosy, deep rose at the bottom shading to a coral at the top. The colors area deepening steadily and now are all brightening as the sun approaches. Very nice. I think I’ll just watch for a few minutes. It’s wonderful how sunrises work. They start as a tiny patch of color and grow to fill the whole sky staining clouds you didn’t even know were there. It changes constantly. Blink, it’s different. Look away, look back, it’s changed.
One thing I do want to do is take more time to observe and think about things. My life to this point has been one of generalities and dabbling. I have rarely taken the time to really explore anything deeply. I knit a little, but not very well. I write a little, but not very well. I cook a bit, but am not expert. I want to take the time to get really, really good at a few things instead of being sort of good at a lot of things.
It’s really fading now. All the clouds are the lightest pink shading back to gray.
Monday, January 21, 2008
What are you going to do with yourself?
Sometimes, when I talk about retiring, people ask me what I am going to do with all that time. Because they seem to imply that retirement is a bad thing, I usually infer that these are people who so identify with their jobs that they see having no job as a condition to be avoided. I don’t think that way.
I grew up thinking that retirement was something to eagerly anticipate. My father talked about retiring early and going to Florida for as long as I can remember. That was his goal. He achieved it by retiring when he was 55 and moving to Florida. His father and mother had retired to Florida in the 1940’s. Their choice of a place to spend their “golden years” had a great influence on him and on me. Unlike many people, I had two generations of successful retirees as examples.
When I got my first “real job”, I was lucky enough to be approached by an agent who sold annuities for an insurance company. I made the decision to start investing in my retirement at that early age. I did this not because I was wise, but because of the examples of my father and grandfather. Retirement was something a long way off, but it was something I knew would eventually arrive. I steadily saved. Now I have the means to consider a life without a steady job and the income one provides.
All this doesn't address what I am going to do with myself. While I was teaching, I had three months in the summer of miniretirement. I often didn't do well with filling that time. I often found myself bored and grouchy. I've learned from those summers. One factor which contributed to the boreddom was often it was too hot and too humid in Kansas, where I lived at the time, to do much outside, so I had to contend with summertime cabin fever not unlike what I have been experiencing here in Laramie this winter. I realize now I have choices. I can find meaningful occupation when the weather is bad. I can bundle up and go out anyway. I can go elsewhere. Each of these options has merit. I suspect I will counter cabin fever with a combination of the three. The key is to avoid the mindset which beings on the funk of feeling trapped by the weather.
More the next post....
I grew up thinking that retirement was something to eagerly anticipate. My father talked about retiring early and going to Florida for as long as I can remember. That was his goal. He achieved it by retiring when he was 55 and moving to Florida. His father and mother had retired to Florida in the 1940’s. Their choice of a place to spend their “golden years” had a great influence on him and on me. Unlike many people, I had two generations of successful retirees as examples.
When I got my first “real job”, I was lucky enough to be approached by an agent who sold annuities for an insurance company. I made the decision to start investing in my retirement at that early age. I did this not because I was wise, but because of the examples of my father and grandfather. Retirement was something a long way off, but it was something I knew would eventually arrive. I steadily saved. Now I have the means to consider a life without a steady job and the income one provides.
All this doesn't address what I am going to do with myself. While I was teaching, I had three months in the summer of miniretirement. I often didn't do well with filling that time. I often found myself bored and grouchy. I've learned from those summers. One factor which contributed to the boreddom was often it was too hot and too humid in Kansas, where I lived at the time, to do much outside, so I had to contend with summertime cabin fever not unlike what I have been experiencing here in Laramie this winter. I realize now I have choices. I can find meaningful occupation when the weather is bad. I can bundle up and go out anyway. I can go elsewhere. Each of these options has merit. I suspect I will counter cabin fever with a combination of the three. The key is to avoid the mindset which beings on the funk of feeling trapped by the weather.
More the next post....
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Scary roads
Christmas has come and gone without much ado. We had snow and wind so the company we had hoped for used her head and stayed put in Denver. The many roads (6 highways) in and out of Laramie are notoriously treacherous when we have foul weather. I 80 runs east and west from here. The west bound lanes are the ones most often closed. The engineers who built the highway used expediency rather than good sense when plotting its route. Old highway 30 used to run several miles north of the northern most tip of the Snowy Range. This enabled the horrible blizzards that are generated out there to blow themselves out on the prairie a bit before reaching the road. In order to save a few miles on the route the interstate was built right up against the mountains. Now the frequent snows and howling winds make that part of the road impassable on a regular basis. Some argue that WYDOT should use more sense than the engineers and close the road more quickly when there are white outs or the winds are so strong they are blowing the big trucks over or off the road. There have been many wrecks on that stretch.
The eastbound intertstate has it's own set of problems. When you drive east from Laramie (7220 ft), you immediately begin to climb up to what is known as The Summit. Rising to an altitude of 8624 feet the Summit is the highest point on the whole east/west route of I80 and home of some really awful weather. What I haven't mentioned is that I80 is the main east/west truck route. There are many more trucks on this route than on any of the other routes. Some of the drivers of these rigs do not use good judgement when driving up to or down from The Summit. As a result, the stretch of road from the top to where the road levels out as it enters Laramie Valley accounts for the most wrecks in the state. WYDOT has made efforts, lighted and unligted signs, reducing the speed limit, etc., but many ignore the warnings and crash. If you make it up to The Summit and continue east the road runs along an open stretch were you can see the Front Range, the Medicine Bow Mountains and the Snowy Range just by swivling your head. The winds up there are fierce. The wind at Buford has been clocked at over 100 mph. Winds approaching 60mph are not unusual. When these winds pick up the light, dry snow and blow it around, the road disappears in white river of snow. It is very scary to try to drive on a road you cannot see.
The third major Laramie route goes south from here. The stretch ofUS Highway 287 from Laramie to Ft. Collins, CO is one of the countries most beautiful highways in the west. It is also deadly when the weather is bad. Miles of windswept roads turn to sheets of ice when the sun, wind and snow mix. Even so, I prefer this route when I have to go to Colorado because there is little truck traffic.
The other routes out of town are mostly for local traffic and people trying to reach the mountains to hunt,ski or snowmobile. Most are hardy types and used to driving in horrible condiitons.
We hope for snow because a good snowpack provides us with adequate water during the summer months. The price we pay is having to stay put or very scary driving conditions.
The eastbound intertstate has it's own set of problems. When you drive east from Laramie (7220 ft), you immediately begin to climb up to what is known as The Summit. Rising to an altitude of 8624 feet the Summit is the highest point on the whole east/west route of I80 and home of some really awful weather. What I haven't mentioned is that I80 is the main east/west truck route. There are many more trucks on this route than on any of the other routes. Some of the drivers of these rigs do not use good judgement when driving up to or down from The Summit. As a result, the stretch of road from the top to where the road levels out as it enters Laramie Valley accounts for the most wrecks in the state. WYDOT has made efforts, lighted and unligted signs, reducing the speed limit, etc., but many ignore the warnings and crash. If you make it up to The Summit and continue east the road runs along an open stretch were you can see the Front Range, the Medicine Bow Mountains and the Snowy Range just by swivling your head. The winds up there are fierce. The wind at Buford has been clocked at over 100 mph. Winds approaching 60mph are not unusual. When these winds pick up the light, dry snow and blow it around, the road disappears in white river of snow. It is very scary to try to drive on a road you cannot see.
The third major Laramie route goes south from here. The stretch ofUS Highway 287 from Laramie to Ft. Collins, CO is one of the countries most beautiful highways in the west. It is also deadly when the weather is bad. Miles of windswept roads turn to sheets of ice when the sun, wind and snow mix. Even so, I prefer this route when I have to go to Colorado because there is little truck traffic.
The other routes out of town are mostly for local traffic and people trying to reach the mountains to hunt,ski or snowmobile. Most are hardy types and used to driving in horrible condiitons.
We hope for snow because a good snowpack provides us with adequate water during the summer months. The price we pay is having to stay put or very scary driving conditions.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Winter Gardener
I've started my garden. Oh, I know it's only a few days from the winter solstice and it was -15 yesterday morning, but it's time. It's time.
I got a book on interlibrary loan entitled The Way We Garden Now by Katherine Whiteside. The subtitle is 41 pick and choose projects for planting you paradise large or small. It's a low key, practical guide to gardening. Whiteside banishes perfectionism. Just what I need for my winter garden imagination.
I've already imagined enlarging the flower beds in the front yard, building the compost heap containerwe've been putting off doing, and thought about what tools I need to acquire or replace. I've worried about imaginary weeds and bugs, then read what to do to rid my space of them. I've planned an imaginary watering strategy for the desert conditions here on the high plains. What will be next? I have no idea, but it sure is fun thinking about the warm days of summer here in the heart of winter.
I got a book on interlibrary loan entitled The Way We Garden Now by Katherine Whiteside. The subtitle is 41 pick and choose projects for planting you paradise large or small. It's a low key, practical guide to gardening. Whiteside banishes perfectionism. Just what I need for my winter garden imagination.
I've already imagined enlarging the flower beds in the front yard, building the compost heap containerwe've been putting off doing, and thought about what tools I need to acquire or replace. I've worried about imaginary weeds and bugs, then read what to do to rid my space of them. I've planned an imaginary watering strategy for the desert conditions here on the high plains. What will be next? I have no idea, but it sure is fun thinking about the warm days of summer here in the heart of winter.
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