Step by arduous step 6 August 2015

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When summer began, my friend Elaine and I decided that we were going to climb Mt.Meeker. In order to be have a successful climb up this difficult 13,911 feet, we needed to do some other hiking. You don’t just decide one day when you get up: Hm, today I think I will conquer a mountain where there is much less oxygen. Just because I live in the flatlands-well, here we go! No, you prepare. 

The first few hikes were relatively easy, once we acclimated to hiking mode. We’ve gone progressively more difficult hiking to Finch Lake and then Twin Sisters, both of which are in the same neighborhood as Meeker, the belly of the “sleeping indian.” So, we done some difficult trails and some trails with good elevation gains. 2015-08-05 08.51.29

Then, we happened upon the website for the Manitou Incline near Manitou Springs.

“The Manitou Incline was originally built as a cable car to carry materials to build pipelines on Pikes Peak…This is considered an extreme trail and is an advanced hike! The Manitou Incline gains almost 2,000 feet of elevation over less than 1 mile.” 

The website recommends that you consult with your doctor before you attempt it. Part way up, we were thinking maybe we should have had this sort of consult, with a psychiatrist! You can’t even imagine what it’s like, and from the time you drive around the corner into Manitou Springs and see it having up on the side of Pikes Peak. I turned to Elaine, “Is that it?” Incredulous. 

2015-08-05 09.44.00The 2,744 steps, give or take, are made of railroad ties and the lengths are everywhere from a tiny baby step to more than knee-high. We’d read that there is a false summit, due to the incredible incline. If we hadn’t known and expected it, it would have been a huge blow. We went step by arduous step, sometimes kind of crawling over each step because it was stop steep. I could not look back and down, due to the terrible vertigo I get when looking over precipices, like the narrows on Longs Peak. I am very intimate with the backs of Elaine’s hiking boots. She is in charge of taking the pictures to show me later.

This is one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done. But, I say again, done. We did it. It took us two hours, but we sat at the top and had some trail mix and looked out over the world. We could see the tall trunks of the windmills way out east on I-70. It was a very toast day and there is no shade going up, and very little coming down the four mile trail which winds around the south side of the incline.

What were we trying to prove? Absolutely nothing, but we showed ourselves that we can 2015-08-05 10.14.52do more than we ever thought we could, that to persevere is a strong and active verb, that each of us has a role to play in seeing that we both reach our goals, that it is perfectly fine to stop and breathe and then push on, and that a thing worth doing is best done with a friend.

At the top, you have another choice: go back down the incline or take the four mile trail through the woods. Here is where I know the limits of my fear and my vertigo, and so does Elaine. I’m the let’s get going up person, and she is the we’ll make it down person. Monday next is Meeker Monday.

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Daydreaming 4 August 2015

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I’d say that about the only time I daydream is when either I’m riding my horse, driving my tractor, or just before falling to sleep. I daydream about having my novels made into movies, having a two-story writing space like a castle turret, and places I’ll go with Robert.

As a writer, I guess what I do as I think through character, plot and setting could be considered daydreaming. I used to daydream a lot more, sinking into various fantasies in my brain and kind of watching from a strange distance as my characters acted out their lives in that in-between world inside my head.  IMG_3584

I guess the real question is: do I live a “secret” life in my mind? Don’t we all? I think for the most part, it’s a healthy thing, because it gives us the space to think and to dream without judgement, to plan how to make life better or to escape from situations that cause pain.

I think daydreaming must be responsible for most creative thing like: good novels, flavored lattes, peach chutney, antibiotics, taming  & riding horses, campfire stories, foil dinners, s’mores, popcorn, fire crackers, bicycles, pudding, and whipped cream in a can.

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Tears 30 July 2015

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What makes me cry:

Love so strong that it holds through all things brings me to tears. I think that’s why Hallmark commercials bring my weep out; why the Folger’s commercial when the son comes home unannounced from war fills my eyes; why the two Zoulies saying, “See ya later” as they fold into their emergency shelters, caught in a fire storm, and live through it, only to come back together in scorched joy, sheds my tears. I feel emotions deeply.IMG_3671

Nothing could have prepared me for the grueling work of brining new life into this world. I spent those nine months growing precious existence: watching tiny feet move my rib cage, a round head pushing my belly button out, countless moments of awe and incredulity. To have this newly breathing baby, sleeping on my chest, was so sacred; just watching him lost IMG_3688in a world of new-born dreams, my heart beat thudding under him, so familiar from all those months of intimate being. Those moments with my babies, come back to me still-so real and so precious. They bring tears.

While love can be painful, it is still joy. It’s never the big things, but it is those quiet moments, often going by without conscience notice, where love flourishes and yes, brings the fullness that can flow over as tears when the cup is brimming that it cannot contain it. It’s seeing Indian and Oreo sillouetted  in moonlight when I drive in at night and giving thanks to God for the blessing. IMG_3673It’s hiking up that mountain trail with a friend and giving thanks for the communion and for the Creator. It’s hearing his voice on the phone each night when he’s been traveling all week, and leaving each other to sleep with, “I love you.” It’s sitting around the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and laughing at all those stories. It’s that song playing on the radio and everyone singing along. And it’s the whisper of the cool breeze on my cheek and the collective breath of all humanity.

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Fabrication 28 July 2015

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I did a writing prompt with my students which was simple: write about a lie. I remember sitting there, pen in hand, and the blank page in front me was getting longer and longer. I finally began with the prompt and took off from there.

Write about a lie. Hm, okay, people lie all the time to themselves and to others:Scenic003 (1)

about who they are or who they want to be, about their habits and family, about relationships, about how fast they are, how much weight they can lift, how good a shot they are, how many times they’ve done something, how virtuous or moral they are, how much they like or don’t like someone, how healthy they are, how old they are.

They lie to hide: who they’re seeing, conversations they’ve had, how much money they make, how much cake they ate, why they’re late, or why something isn’t done.

It must be hard to remember all those lies. Wouldn’t it be easier, simpler, to just own the truth and take the consequences? The repercussions come one way or another.

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Horses 23 July 2015

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I fell in love with horses at birth as far as I know. That is the only explanation for my lifelong obsession with my equine friends. I don’t know the first time I ever saw a horse up close and personal, but I knew love at that moment.

Those sleek powerful muscles propelling that brown and shite pain body over grasses with mane and tail flying out in rhythm. Scan 131780035That warm breath on my palm from those soft black nostrils. The whiskers around a gentle muzzle tickling the bare skin on my arms, and those big ears that perk up, swiveling toward the sound of my voice as I pour out my heart to this powerful steady giant.

My students used to ask me if I actually owned any horses and I always replied, “No, but every horse I see is mine.” There is no question of ownership-at least not with papers of any kind. Souls connect and that is a much more substantial kind of ‘ownership’ for human and horse. I love to walk out into the pasture, find a good spot to sit, and simply wait. Grazing horses wander over to see what I’m up to and I

Scan 131780000give them a friendly scratch, and then they settle around me to continue to fill their never-empty bellies. It’s communion- just being.

I’m not sure there is any better companionship to be found, than in that of a horse. When you are in the darkest corner or the fiercest storm, overcome with grief or rising in joy, that horse will see you home every time.

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Waverly 21 July 2015

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On this grey, rainy morning, I remember the bright blue skies of the antique power show at Waverly and meeting up with good friends again. And enjoying a walk through the past with family. And those chocolate malts! I wonder at the ingenuity of those who designed left-hand plows and oscillating straw blowers, multiple gear pump jacks and butter churns- all those little things that made life easier for the early pioneer farmers and their families. And the artistry evident in the colors and the differing patterns of pin-striping. IMG_3643

The crowd wanders the grounds: the older folks reminiscing about which tractors they worked or how they managed their butter and their milk or how they rebuilt a certain piece in order to fit the needs on their farm; the young children wide-eyed at this so physical world, having fun running ears of dried corn through a hand sheller, watching the wheat threshed from the heads coming out one auger while the chaff and straw are blown out another.

And then there are all the hard-working people who put the show on, who work all year to keep up the equipment and keep these traditions alive and real for so many who will never experience this world anywhere else. They work to make this show special for the thousands of people who come to experience it. Everyone from the antique tractor owners, the gas engine owners, the threshing crews, the bread and butter makers, the corn shellers, the Boy Scout troop with cold water, the food vendors, toy venders, the swap meet sellers, the horse demonstration folks, the tack collection man, the antique crane operators (think Mike Mulligan), to the volunteers all over the grounds are there to make this a fun experience for all the families who come to IMG_3649see what it’s all about.

People who “do” antique farming-and I mean everything I listed-are some of the friendliest, most generous, and darn right fun people you’ll ever have been blessed to know. A work ethic oozes from their pours and there is always a ready smile and a helping hand. We’ve gone to this particular show in Waverly, Nebraska for many years, and it is like coming home when we pull in to the show grounds and we both look wistfully into the rear-view when we have to leave.

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Faith 16 July 2015

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I have faith in the turning of the seasons, in the wind and in the rising and setting of the sun. I have faith in things seen and unseen, laughter and joy, angels and the Holy Spirit. I have faith in what is routine and predictable: waking up and falling into sleep, our going out and our coming in. I have faith in those who do and them that don’t.

I have faith in surprise and spontaneous: a proposal to be man and wife, or a pre-dawn decision to head off somewhere to see IMG_1625something new. To make a phone call to friends and meet up for supper and conversation, or driving in to check cattle and finding ourselves at the kitchen table sharing a cup of coffee and our lives.

I have faith in God, the Creator and Sustainer who loved us enough to call us into being so that we may be blessed and loved by Him.

I have faith that DSCN0823God guides me, sending me on my way each day with good things in store for me on my path, and with those whom I can touch with His love. I have faith that God wraps me in arms of love each night as I lie to rest to let me know that everything will be okay. The mistakes I made are forgiven and a whole new day awaits the coming of the dawn.

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Change 15 July 2015

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Generally, I hate change. I go into change kicking and screaming. I know this is not the healthiest way to evolve, but it is my way. I do come around, after some time has passed, and then either love it and wonder why it hasn’t always been this way, or adapt to it and end up loving the new system.

For example: my friend Gary removed some old tree trunks from the horse corral without saying anything to me, the riding director. We used those trunks to tie horses, and after he removed them (we were gone on an all day ride), I had to rethink shady-spot spacing for twenty-five horses. Adapt.

Each time we had a new program director,AllPics 721 I had to explain my vision of horse camp and its mission. I really liked all of them, with one exception. This one would not advocate for the horse program, and worse, had that sickly sweet smile spewing all the right words out, but that is all they were. A thriving horse program giving hundreds of kids confidence and faith was killed there-driven into the dirt. Leave.

AllPics 1027Moving. Moving is so difficult because you have to leave behind friends, spaces, familiarity, and that piece of earth you’ve come to love to go bluntly into the unknown and alien. Exposed and vulnerable, it takes time to fit in, to find those new running paths, to discover beauty and new people. To figure out where to get your groceries and who has good coffee. Adapt and love.

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A Perfect Friend 14 July 2015

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My perfect friend knows me, know all of my faults and loves me still. Knows all of my annoying habits and loves me still. Knows my deepest secrets and judges not. Knows my odd little quirks and laughs at them. No matter how much time we are apart, we can pick up right where we left off.

My perfect friend takes one look at me and accepts me for who I am with no expectations that I’ll change. My perfect friend sings John Denver with me on long road trips, listens when I need to pour my heart out, sends boxes of my favorite treats when she can’t be here with me in my hurt. Celebrates my triumph and joys as I do hers. IMG_3574

My perfect friend is never cruel and goes the extra mile to help me find my feet again after I’ve taken a fall. Listens to my hair-brained ideas, nodding and smiling no matter how far-fetched. Pushes me to be my best, laboring with me to see me through. Teaches me, gently, other ways I can be. Shares s’mores with me, even if we have to cook the mallows over the stove.

Just knowing that my perfect friend is there, gives me confidence to go out and be what I need to be, because if I fail, I know my perfect friend will be there to help sweep up the pieces and put them back together for another try.

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Numbers 8 July 2015

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I don’t think numbers have special powers, but certain numbers do have meaning, like the date of your birth, anniversaries, the death of one you loved, or dates of great accomplishments. Many of these give us reason to celebrate or remember, to gather in community, and of course, to eat cake!

There are plentiful saying involving numbers:

third times a charm, lucky seven, click you heels together three times, a picture is worth a thousand words, a stitch in time saves nine, back to square one, baker’s dozen, catch 22, I’m on cloud nine, double whammy, dressed to the nines, fifteen minutes of fame, goody two-shoes, the nth degree, the whole nine yards, the third degree, three sheets to the wind, twenty-three skidoo, two cents worth,  and two head are better than one. IMG_3590

I’m sure it must because numbers show the passing of time, and time is precious to us. I don’t know why it is that sometimes I feel time going by so fast and sometimes it drags. I much prefer the drag. It seems like the school year just ended and I had the whole summer before me with lists of things I wanted to get done. Right. Suddenly it is July and my list has gotten longer. I’ve been busy, no doubt, but not necessarily with the things I had in mind to be busy with.
IMG_3617There is much still to do before brick and mortar school begins again in five weeks, and I’ve set my mind to get them done. Today, clouds and cold rain, is a good day to begin again. I’m back to square one and ready to accomplish a double whammy to the nth degree with shouts of twenty-three skidoo, just because.

 

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