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25 Friday May 2012

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Almost finished with the school year (a subject for another post). Just a few more tasks remaining: clean the classroom, turn in keys, submit grades, and collect the end-of-year check. By this time tomorrow, I will be free (at least for a few weeks until the summer job begins).

As I’ve graded the essay exams and worked through the end-of-semester tasks (which, in the past, had consumed my every waking moment), I’ve moved into my space. Each night, I unpacked a few more boxes; I still cannot locate the remote control or my favorite ring that I bought in Santa Fe 10 years ago.

But I am home. At least for a year. And I am at peace.

Lately, I’ve been disappointed with the images I’ve taken and am itching to get “out there” and shoot. To scratch that itch, I did a little night shooting with the 50mm lens with the ISO boosted way high.

Night shot of the bougainvillea outside my front door

My front door

Look closely. You can see the moving boxes inside, waiting for my attention. They can wait. Tomorrow is another day.

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Learn how to love life that is lived alone

19 Saturday May 2012

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“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”  T.S. Eliot

I have rarely gotten personal on this blog, but I make an exception today. It’s moving day. Throughout the day I operated on adrenaline and caffeine; as nighttime settles in, I’m indulging in a bit of Absolut with Andrew Lloyd Webber on iTunes. Currently “Learn to be Lonely” is playing.  It is absolutely perfect for me at this moment, as I have not moved into a space alone since 1975; I was 25. Today, at 61, I am learning how to be alone and strong. (I wonder which box contains the remote and coax cables.)

Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Who will be there for you
Comfort and care for you
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you?
You’ve always known
Your heart was on its own
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone.

I like that: Life can be lived / Life can be loved / Alone.

“Chinese poets also use lotus flowers to inspire people to continue striving through difficulties and to show their best part to the outside world, no matter how bad the circumstances may be.” (http://platinumlotus.com/lotus_legend.html)

I shot this flower (I think it’s a lotus) at the Botanical Gardens last week and it seems to fit my mood tonight. “…striving through difficulties…show…best part to the outside world”

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Happy Mother’s Day, Martha Ann Fromme Howard

13 Sunday May 2012

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In my father’s handwriting on the back of this photo: “This is why I fell in love with Martha Ann Fromme.”

Martha Ann Fromme before she married my father

Stephen and Martha Howard on their honeymoon

Stephen and Martha Howard 62 years later

My parents sired 10 children. They are pictured here with their children, grandchildren and great-grandchild.

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What 4th Grade Looks Like

12 Saturday May 2012

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Have you ever seen Gregory Peck’s remarkable portrayal of Atticus Finch in the film version of Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird?

Mary Badham’s Scout is just as I’d imagined her to be when I read the novel.

Take a look at her hairstyle, which mirrors mine when I was a kid — brown, straight, with bangs — frequently messy.

However, for special occasions (school picture day, for example), Mother would cut it, perm it, curl it (bobby pins in my hair overnight … much more comfortable than the enormous cylinders I wore each night during high school … but I digress.)

The picture below shows me in 4th grade, the year of my first bad experiences in elementary school. Prior to this, I was blessed to be taught by three sweet women,  Sister Mary Jerome, Sister Rita, and Mrs. Buechlein, who praised and encouraged everything I did; I blossomed as a student.

On the first day of 4th grade, Sister Mary Jerome yelled at me. During her introductory speech / lecture, she asked if there were any questions. I raised my hand, stood up (the law at the time), and happily announced that Mother had given birth to my brother Andy the night before. She crossly told me that such a comment does not belong in the classroom and to save it for recess. I withered, and the tone was set for the entire year. I did not bloom again until I survived out of her class.

I find it appropriate that my one physical memento of that year is this picture which reveals the horrific hairstyling techniques of my well-meaning mother.

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“We’ll eat you up — we love you so!”

09 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by in Musings, Other's Work

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This article celebrates one of my favorite authors, Maurice Sendak, who left our world yesterday…. I read Max’s tale to my sons (each one both Max and “wild thing”) countless times. The book, with the edges of its spine chewed by a long-gone cocker spaniel, still sits on my bookcase, waiting for my next “wild thing” to snuggle up and listen to Max’s story. Don’t we all want “to be where someone love[s] [us] best of all”?

“We’ll eat you up — we love you so!”

Didn’t get it!

06 Sunday May 2012

Posted by in Nature, Photos

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Last night I hiked to the top of the mountain to get the fantastic shot of the year. Hmm … that didn’t happen. After I got over my self-congratulations at making it to the top (really, it was a hefty hike with my photo backpack & small bottle of water), I casually wondered how I would get off the mountain in the dark. While waiting for the moon to rise, I enjoyed the expanse of the valley of houses below me and the glorious colors as the sun set in the desert. Around 7:10 PM the highly anticipated moon began to rise. On the top of the mountain, I was not able to move my tripod to a position to get the shot I wanted. In this shot below, we see the rising moon next to one of the mountains. You can see the homes in the foothills.

I wasn’t satisfied and tried to get a closer shot.

By this time, I was thinking “Holy Cow, how am I gonna get off this mountain without falling, breaking my leg, hitting my head on a boulder, and lying here all night?” (Actually my language was much more colorful … remember? I teach teenagers who are comfortable emitting gutter language and I have found the trashy words flying out of my mouth.) Just to cover my bases, I had texted my son who can track my cell phone and call out the calvary if needed.

With the help of my tiny flashlight that I keep in my photo backpack, I made it safely to the base of the mountain. I waited. I waited. I sat on a lawn chair. I ate an apple. I ate some chocolate. Still that moon did not rise above the mountain … the one I’d just descended.

I decided that this was ridiculous, got in my pretend SUV and headed out of the mountain park. As soon as I passed the gate (“Do not back up! Your tires will be punctured!”) I saw THE MOON peaking around the edge of the mountain.

I parked illegally (totally out of character for me) and pulled out the tripod & Nikon.

And now you have it: My adventures with the moon on the mountain. But, to my dismay, I did not get that award-winning shot of the orange-tinged moon rising over the horizon. So, to soothe my bruised ego, I finished the night with a juicy hamburger topped with corned beef and swiss cheese, accompanied by a cooling dark beer. Good Night Moon.

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