Monthly Archives: December 2012

Health, Weather +Climate

Negatory

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Samhain                                                                      Thanksgiving Moon

0.  The weather system says the temperature is 0.  That is, an absence of temperature.  A naught.  A negation of temperature.  Not really, though.  Just an arbitrary spot on a continuum from high molecular activity to low.  Significant.  Certainly.  Around here folks begin to notice a chill out.  We have our ways.  When it gets into the 90’s, we start complaining about the heat.  Lowdown, not until it gets well below zero and then only if there’s a wind.

Our body stays in the 98.6 degree range, has to for us to stay alive.  In the language of pharmaceuticals, we can stand excursions above and below that mark, but not much.  More down than up.  In a way.  Here’s aninteresting piece: clinically hypothermia occurs when the core temperature falls below 35°C (95°F) – that’s not much of a drop.  As this website says, we’re tropical creatures, we humans, not meant to be outside in the cold for long, or even short, periods of time.

Even so.  We can and do adapt.  Some of us to the point of finding pleasure in the cold; others merely learning to tolerate it.  A winter species here in Minnesota, the snowbird, leaves town when the harshest weather hits, often January and February.  Some leave just for February because that time, if you don’t enjoy it, it can make you barking mad.  Cabin fever sets in.

Kate and I are not among those folk.  On occasion when it gets hot we go north.  Sort of the opposite idea.

Weather +Climate

Snow There

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Samhain                                                       Thanksgiving Moon

The roads are clear.  Less than 24 hours after 16″ of snow.  We have great snow removal.  It’s a genuine and deserved source of pride.  Even yesterday, when the weather folks said no traveling except for emergencies, you would have been amazed at the apparent number of them.  So many folks on the road.  Weather does not keep Minnesotans at home, especially cold or snowy weather.

In the heart of the snow yesterday I saw several cars with trees tied to their tops, headed home for the start of Christmas decoration.  Not having a tree was, at least for some, emergency enough to justify a long trip to the tree farm.

This is a heavy snow that sits upon branches in curvilinear shapes formed by some combination of sticky flakes, branch shapes and wind.  It gives every view that Christmas post-card look.  It won’t last.  This kind of snow is early season snow.  Later on, the snow will become lighter, fluffy, what the skiers call powder.  It’s possible, if this winter follows the norm, which is a big if these days, that this snow will still be on the ground late into February.

We don’t have a lot of snow here, but what we do have often sticks around for the season because what we do have is cold.  The snow reinforces the cold since it has a high albedo, reflecting the sun’s warmth right back into the atmosphere.

Writing

Can Missing be Found?

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Samhain                                                         Thanksgiving Moon

As I proceed in the revision of Missing, which has grown to include a couple of more scenes imagined before going to sleep, I’m beginning to be excited about marketing it.  I can see using Facebook, this blog, my tumblr blog, other lists to get it out there.  Partly thinking about how to market Kate’s work has lead me to think about my own.

I’m going to need Beta readers within the month.  A Beta reader reads the novel still in draft form and provides comments:  what works.  what doesn’t.  pace.  grammar.  typos.  plot. characters.  anything.  I’ve got some ideas, but I’m open to others.  Missing is fantasy, not a literary novel.

Health

H.A.L.T.

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Samhain                                                             Thanksgiving Moon

Let myself get tired and hungry yesterday.  No lunch before the drive in for the Sunday afternoon tour, then working through the time period for my nap.  When I went through treatment for alcoholism, now over 35 years ago, the trainers taught us H.A.L.T.  Hungry. Angry. Late. Tired.  In recovery slips can happen and they would tend to happen, we were told, if any or more than one of these were present.  They can come in clusters.  Once hungry and tired, anger pops to the surface.  Or, being late can create short temper. Anger can lead to lack of sleep.  Being late can lead to skipped meals.

(When I found this graphic, I learned that I’d modified one word:  the L stands for lonely.  Loneliness doesn’t bother me and doesn’t happen to me too often, so I think I’ll let late stand.  For me.  I also was reminded that one other use of the acronym is to remind you what to do:  HALT.  Don’t do anything rash.  Just slow down and figure things out.)

The effect on me yesterday?  I gave myself a drubbing on the way home because my tour group didn’t clap.  How silly in retrospect.  These folks stayed with me, asked questions, showed interest to the end.  The very definition, in my opinion, of a good tour.  Still, by the time I got home, I’d done poorly, might just drop the whole thing.  I was glad this morning, rested, calm, a good breakfast and up with plenty of time to get the day going, the very oppose of H.A.L.T.  I could see yesterday’s slump for what it was, a symptom, not a diagnosis.

Today’s got good stuff in it.  Again.

 

 

Weather +Climate

Winter. Yes.

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Samhain                                                                    Thanksgiving Moon

Sitting here, the gas stove burning away behind me, the weather system panel above showing 19 degrees outside.  The patio furniture has snow cover easily at the 14-16 inch level.  The patio umbrella, still outside to my surprise, has a conical hat that looks a lot like the pope’s bee hive crown.  The bees have formed themselves into balls, crawling over each other to keep the entire colony warm.

Outside the window here the view is now white and sculpted as opposed to yesterday’s green-brown and late fall dismal.  The world narrows now, down to the yard, the house.  Inside baking and writing and sewing and dogs sleeping.  Outside the world has become Arctic.

These are the days that people notice, those not living in a northern climate, and wonder, why do they live there?  It’s a fair question.  We wonder the same about Phoenix in September.  Florida in hurricane season.  Las Vegas and L.A. in a drought.  Yet we have our preferences, we humans.  Those of us who live here love the change, the magical transformation snow brings.  We know how to dress for the cold, to enjoy it.

If you want to see the north in its true dress, come visit in late December or January.  Then.  Then you’ll see us at our happiest.

Art and Culture, Asia

Sunday in the Snow

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Samhain                                                       Thanksgiving Moon

Drove in.  Plows had moved snow, but on all roads only one or two lanes were open.  The traffic, as a result, moved slow, but steady, somewhere between 30 and 45 mile an hour, mostly a function of congestion.

The Rav4, which has not had a lot of winter driving, performed well.  I felt safe as it shifted from 4D to 2D, from slip and slide stabilization to none.

The tour was good, had a lot of folks, maybe 20-30.  I thought they were attentive, stayed with me, but at the end just a thank you.  Not sure what it meant.  I thought we bonded along the way, maybe they were just undemonstrative.

An hour plus both ways, on what is a maximum 45 minutes and often less.  Shot the afternoon.  Back home.  Had stew, some bread.  Now to read a bit.  Sundays are slower than the other days.  Habit, I guess.

Weather +Climate

Winter. Of a Sudden.

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Samhain                                                        Thanksgiving Moon

From no snow to 8-15″, maybe more.  And I have to drive into the museum.  Not good.  Still.  Gotta do it.

I love the snow.  Kate and I just located a snow plower yesterday.  Now we’ll have our first push.  That’s the term the guy used.

Up till now the yard has been visible, brown and patchy.  Now, it’s gone, clad in white and buried.  The view out my window.  Winter.

Sport
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Samhain                                                            Thanksgiving Moon

Watched two documentary type movies:  The Go Master and First Saturday in May.  The first about a Chinese go master who lived in Japan during the years of World War II.  The second about the Kentucky Derby.

On the surface of course these movies were, quite literally, worlds apart.  The quiet, almost religious world of professional go, played in tatami matted rooms with exquisite stone gardens nearby.  Asian.  Filled with deferral.  Lots of tea.  On the other hand, the white steepled haunts of Churchill Downs in Louisville, Kentucky.  The long brass horns of the race track.  The equally brassy trainers and owners.  Big hats, sweet tea and Jack Daniels.  And, horses.  Large, muscled, fast.

Yes, those surface differences are there.  Surfaces matter of course, we all know they do.  Perception, as many political strategists say, is everything.

Yet.  The thoroughbred straining at the starting gate and the kimono clad go master gathering his first stones in his hand are the same.  A single focus.  To win the contest.  Rituals and traditions that surround both activities, though different in length of historical precedence. The time to prepare for excellence cannot be shortened.  Both represent central aspects of their particular cultures.

 

 

 

Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality

Remember

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Samhain                                                             Thanksgiving Moon

It is the first night of Hanukkah.  I recommend this op-ed piece in the NYT to clarify the roots of this most well known of Jewish holidays and perhaps its most misunderstood.  We celebrate Hanukkah here and by mail with the grandkids.  Dreidels and menorahs and the evening lighting of the candle.  Kate recites the prayers in Hebrew.  Sometimes I join in.

Judaism has always felt right to me.  I love the sonority of Hebrew, the unflinching demands for social justice, the beauty of the torah scrolls and the long unwinding of Jewish history that they represent.  Judaism has an authenticity rooted in its long, well-documented history and in its adherents who, whether observant or not, often not, still retain its cultural stamp.

You can do much worse than basing your life on the Exodus story, the patriarchs of Genesis and their powerful wives, the story of Deborah, driving tent spikes into the head of an enemy commander.  These are powerful stories, people shaping and people making.

The holocaust, of course, burns with the most intense heat in near time history.  Its memory, which could have been paralyzing or demoralizing, found Jews and their allies worldwide declaring, Never again.  Out of that awful moment came, after a difficult birth, the nation of Israel.

While I may have differences with Israeli policy and strategy concerning Palestine, and I do, I fully understand and celebrate the homeland for this wandering people; fated, it seemed to live only in diaspora.

Jewish or not, lift a cup of cheer and good will each time you see a menorah over the next few days.  Celebrate this people and their often surprising stories of survival against long odds.  Hanukkah is one such story.

Art and Culture, Faith and Spirituality, Humanities

The Humanities. Another post.

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Samhain                                                                        Thanksgiving Moon

I’ve spent my whole adult life within the ambit of the humanities.  At an early age, perhaps junior high, the notion of a liberal arts education took hold.  An education in disciplines for which an inner passion, a vocation, burns will produce the best person.  Not, necessarily the best job.  Just the best person.

Note, not a better person.  But, the best person possible.  Why?  Our passions call from us the sum totals of our powers, render them available and useful.  Therefore we might reach a peak of human potential, one described solely by our own history and our particular genetics.

Yes, this is a fuzzy idea, full of the wishy washy and the self-indulgent.  Yes, it seems to come down right beside the point of an education, at least today’s education.  Today it seems apparent to everyone that an education should enable you to get ahead.  Get going.  Start maximizing, not necessarily yourself, but your earning potential.

That is a far different thing from becoming the best person you can be.  This is the person as tool, as instrument, sharpened and lubed for the truest fit in the gears of our economy.  Not insignificant and a surprising number of people prefer to be tools, used by managers and companies, getting financial and status rewards along the way.  Even so, tools, like their machines, need to be guided, shaped, aimed.

What is an appropriate, healthful, just, socially useful aim?  Ah, now we have the entered the realm of the humanities.  Weighing the lessons of one historical era against another’s.  Investigating the variety of ways in which we can be human.  Reading the tales and legends and novels and poems of others, so that we might know ourselves.  No bomb will know where it should be dropped.  Or why.  Is the expansion of health care services to a population a wise, just act?  How can we decide whether to go further than our moon?  What brings beauty into our life?  Who creates it?

Should the state interfere with individual’s nutrition?  Exercise?  Only with careful and sustained study of the human story can we make these kind of decisions.  Ethical decisions. Aesthetic decisions.  Social policy decisions.  Even space exploration decisions.

Imagine.  How might we decide as a world to engage a mission to Mars.  Incredibly expensive.  Dangerous.  Exciting.  Adventurous.  I might begin with reading the diaries of Rogers and Clark.  The journals of James Cook.  Zeng He.  The navigation methods of Polynesian islanders.  Examining the archaeological record of human migration.  What do we need to know?  How have we come to know such things?  What are the unexpected results of exploration?  Are they cautions?

Of course, the politics and the economics of the day will press hard upon the answer, too.  Here, too, the historical record, political history and economic history of joint endeavors would prove instructive.

My point?  Neither the scientific feasibility, the economic practicality nor political realities can make us want to go.  Can make us search for a way through the inevitable difficulties and barriers.  Only decisions shaped by our common humanity, in the present and in the past, can guide us.  Can make us decide it’s worth it, no matter what.

I don’t know.  Perhaps this is all special pleading, the sentimental journey of one long committed to a life lived with books, ideas, art.  All I can say is that the ancientrail of the humanities has been a rich vein for me.  For my whole life.  And continues to be.