Idle Thoughts of a '49er'

Yes, I'm finally
A forty-niner!
But daughter's not a Clementine
She's got a gold feller,
Though he's not yeller,
Air Force chap
And mighty fine...
(Walk2Write's own verse sung to the tune of "Clementine.")


I can't say "nifty, nifty, look who's fifty" just yet. The verse above the first picture is the best I can do for now. No, 09/09/09 is not my 49th birthday. I wouldn't be that lucky. But I did celebrate sometime last week by walking with SAM at Arcadia Mill. We weren't sure if the non-boardwalk part of the trail would be passable with as much rain as we've had lately. Fortunately, we managed to stay reasonably dry, didn't endure too many insect bites, and managed to find some beautiful plants along the way. As far as I can tell from looking at various sites, the berries are the fruit of a Brazilian Peppertree, Schinus terebinthifolius Raddi. If I'm right, it's probably not something the forestry people like to see because it's considered extremely invasive.

The walk last week at the old mill site must have whetted my appetite for even more treasure, and I didn't have long to wait before it was satisfied. My sister, the supreme fabric genius of the family, and my mom ensured that this 49er could celebrate in style.

Sis calls her creation "If Fishes were Stars." It's quite an intricate design using the Stack n' Whack technique. Sis even thought to provide care instructions on the back as a quilt block: "Machine wash only when soiled, mild detergent, gentle cycle, no bleach. Dry flat. Avoid direct sunlight." Guess that means no hanging it outside on the clothesline? So far, I've managed to avoid soiling it because I remove it at night before bedtime. I haven't reached the point where I need adult diapers yet, but Daughter keeps reminding me that it won't be long....

We took the Gold Feller--Mr. T--and Daughter to the National Naval Aviation Museum on Labor Day. He's in the Air Force Reserves--active duty right now--and lived in this area before but had never been to the museum. I think he was pleasantly surprised by the displays, sheer size of it all, and historical significance of the place located in Pensacola NAS, the Cradle of Naval Aviation. He and Daughter have a history of their own. They've been friends for five years, keeping in touch by telephone (Daughter doesn't use e-mail very often). When Mr. T found out that Daughter had split with her latest beau, he wasted no time in getting back to town and making his move. Pity da fool!

He isn't a fool, really. I think he fits right in with the rest of this clan.

I'm happy to say that Mr. T is quite welcome here, and I hope he likes it better than he used to (he hates hot weather). Let's not be in any rush to have Daughter movin' out west, especially way up to Alaska, young Gold Feller!

All Hands on Deck--Saving Time at the National Naval Aviation Museum

As raindrops

Before us, Days fly by--

Catching Time with Micah and

Setting it free to dry--
Someone's Tear

An early morning rain shower and lingering clouds on Saturday, the first day of August, left us with few options for spending the day with Micah. We chose an indoor activity--the National Naval Aviation Museum--but wondered as we drove out to the Pensacola Naval Air Station whether we were making a big mistake. What would a two-year-0ld boy do among all those planes and people? Would he get bored in five minutes and throw a tantrum?

We needn't have worried. He didn't waste a single minute on tears and found plenty of things to occupy his mind and hands. There were planes to fly...

...and new horizons to scan. Someone has seen fit to add a play area designed for toddlers. It's surrounded by seats for weary adults to park themselves for a few minutes and watch boundless energy in motion. Museum volunteers ensure that the kids stay safe while playing.

SAM and I have been to the museum several times over the past few years, but this visit was special. We didn't have to try very hard to see things anew through the eyes of a two-year-old child.

Real men carry diaper bags if necessary and agree with requests to strike a pose--IMHO.

The Builders

All are architects of Fate,

Working in these walls of Time;

Some with massive deeds and great,

Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;

Each thing in its place is best;

And what seems but idle show

Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,

Time is with materials filled;

Our todays and yesterdays

Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;

Leave no yawning gaps between;

Think not, because no man sees,

Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art,

Builders wrought with greatest care

Each minute and unseen part;

For the gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,

Both the unseen and the seen;

Make the house where gods may dwell

Beautiful, entire, and clean.

Else our lives are incomplete,

Standing in these walls of Time,

Broken stairways, where the feet

Stumble, as they seek to climb.

Build today, then, strong and sure,

With a firm and ample base;

And ascending and secure

Shall tomorrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain

To those turrets, where the eye

Sees the world as one vast plain,

And one boundless reach of sky.

Blue Angels Among Us--Amen! We Agree!

"The goal is for all of them to become one heart and mind--"

--from The Message, John 17:21--

A certain kind of miracle occurs quite frequently at this time of year in Northwest Florida. It involves an exchange between a group of disciplined, highly trained pilots and their audiences at air show practices which take place behind the National Naval Aviation Museum. The toughest cookie in the jar might very well crumble after witnessing one of these practice sessions. It's not enough to just see the death-defying midair stunts the pilots perform. You have to hear the roar of the engines and the simultaneous gasps of wonder coming from hundreds of people sitting around you on the bleachers. And then there are the running commentaries from the volunteers on site. They keep you informed as to how many "G's" the pilots must overcome as they perform some of their maneuvers. Seven or eight, I heard someone say. And all of that overcoming doesn't come easy. Their workout schedule would put any professional sports player to shame. One of the volunteers said that in order to maintain control over the joystick (throttle?) of the jet, a pilot must be able to curl a 35-pound free weight and hold it in that curled position for five minutes. Or did she say 45 minutes? The more I watched and heard about these disciples of the air on this Maundy Thursday morning, the more I wanted to believe that it was the latter.

Smiling Faces and "Caret" Motives

Now that things appear to have changed for the better in this country, we may be expected to pick up the pace. I am talking about walking instead of driving, taking the stairs and not the elevator, drying clothes on the line, growing our own vegetables; i.e., we must be about the business of making our lives more "green." Does all of this carbon offsetting sound like a lot of work? You bet.



...Alice looked around her in great surprise. "Why, I do believe we've been under this tree the whole time! Everything's just as it was!"
"Of course it is," said the Queen. "What would you have it?"
"Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else--if you ran very fast for a long time as we've been doing."
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"



--from Through the Looking-Glass, Chapter II, "The Garden of Live Flowers," by Lewis Carroll--



On our recent trip to visit family in distant homes, we stopped on the way back to our home at a National Seashore site and wildlife refuge near Cape Canaveral. The alligator pictured above immediately attracted our attention, even though it never appeared to move at all. It might seem a little strange for wildlife to be sheltered so near a site laden with TCE (trichloroethylene) and its degradation products such as vinyl chloride. Hubby has been to the Cape before but not as a tourist. He once tracked contaminant plumes in the soil and groundwater there.

"Rockets' red glare" is still seen here occasionally when the shuttle blasts off into space. We may not be in a race with the Russians anymore, but there is much more work to be done in space. Since the economy is in such a meltdown, I wonder where the money will come from to pay for this work?

This building (above) looks a little like a condominium, but it serves a more important purpose than fattening the bank accounts of developers. Can you guess what it is?

We found another building with a lot of history as well as significance for the future close to home. The National Naval Aviation Museum has become a major tourist attraction for NW Florida and serves an important purpose in educating people about naval aviation. Admission is free, so it's a good place to take a large group. Children seem especially impressed with the vast collection of carefully disassembled, restored, and reassembled aircraft and aviation memorabilia.

This type of green-washing would never work for our daughter. Even with a low-flow showerhead, she consumes more water than you would think humanly possible. I wish I could somehow rig up a mandatory one-rain-barrel shower for her. Initiatives seldom seem to work with some consumers, but carefully enforced mandates just might do the trick.

I know these objects are just carets. You know, ^^, empty, lacking things like engines or people to make them fly.

Only imagination can truly take flight in this place. And it does, even for earthbound bloggers who like to walk and then write.

It takes a very large prop to move a ship, and, it appears, even larger props like "carbon offsets" and "RECs" (renewable energy credits) to move a movement. Empty of meaning or purpose, except maybe to enrich some savvy business owners--oops, I mean directors and stakeholders of nonprofit organizations--they have become the watchwords for a new generation of green optimists.