My Mother is More Adventurous Than Me

I had a whole post-it note worth of things to write about today. I simply have to tell you about the play I saw this past weekend in Minneapolis. I have to tell you about the weekend. I should mention the two straight days of snow that will hit us tomorrow. But all that changed with a phone call this morning. Now I have to tell you my mother's story.

My sister called me this morning and the conversation went a little something like this.

Alissa: Have you talked to our mother recently?

Me: I haven't talked to her in about a week or so. Why? What's up?

Alissa: Mom's had a bit of an adventure.

Me: (worried) What type of adventure?

Alissa: Well she drove to Florida this week...by herself.

Me: Ah ah ah (that's the sound of me being speechless.

And the story only got better. My family had been down in the Turks and Caicos islands over the holidays and my mother had fallen in love with a wild little dog she found down there. She contacted the rescue league on the island and told them to keep an eye out for it. Well I guess last Monday they called her to tell her that they found the dog and were shipping it to Miami for her. Would she be able to pick it up?

So my mother did what any animal lover would do. Or maybe not. She jumped in the car and drove to Florida. By herself. She didn't take a cell phone or make any plans. She just jumped in the car and drove. After three days of 12 hours of driving, she arrived in Jupiter, Florida and picked up her new puppy. Then, without even much of a stop, she turned around and headed home.

Since my mother doesn't drink caffeine she simply didn't eat so she could stay awake, only eating when she reached her evening destination. She drove through Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and Iowa. In Illinois, at a rest stop, she found another straggler. A young kid looking to get to Minneapolis and she picked him up for the drive to Des Moines. My mother!!!! My mother picked up a hitchhiker. This is the same woman who has warned me for the last 30 years not to trust strangers. Not to talk too freely with odd people. And to never pick up hitchhikers. When I asked her about it, she says that he was such a sweet kid. When she dropped him at the rest stop in Ankeny she gave him a bit of money and her phone number with the promise that he would call her when he got home. She got her call at 8 that night.

As I talked with her this evening I had conflicting feelings. My mother is more adventurous than I am. And that makes me incredibly proud. She's normally very reserved and a bit suspicious. She's normally a stay at home person. And in the last week, she's broken all of my impressions. She's had the kind of adventure that only college kids tend to have.

And at the same time I'm furious with her... for acting so rashly. For putting herself in harms way. For being so much of an animal lover that she would do something this crazy. But what can I say, my mother may be becoming a vagabond. My mother!!! If you know her you'll be shocked by this story. Shocked and a bit awed. I'm just excited for her. She's had an incredible adventure and I could hear the pride in her voice. She'd done it by herself. She did it for all the right reasons and I couldn't be more proud of her.

Knitting Night Image

Have You Kissed Your Llama Today?

Can you tell I'm strapped for time this week? I'll try to write something longer tomorrow. Or on the weekend if we are in town. Until then, here is one of my offbeat images to get you through the day.

Poetry Tuesday

I was never much of a flirt until I got married. Suddenly I went from quiet shy introverted Cat to a much more outgoing version of myself. While I'm far from extroverted, I am willing to open up and put myself out there a bit more. I'm willing to step out of my comfort zone and meet people. And now I find myself thinking about all that time I wasted not flirting or talking. All that fear and uncertainty that was misplaced.

Andrew Marvell tries to talk his Mistress into bed in this bawdy poem. Like Robert Merrick's immortal call to "Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May" in his poem To The Virgins, To Make Much of Time, Marvell urges to seize the day (and the sheets). It's a good lesson for every part of life, not just sex. Time is short, make much of life.

To His Coy Mistress

by Andrew Marvell

Had we but World enough, and Time,
This coyness Lady were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges side.
Should'st Rubies find: I by the Tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood:
And you should if you please refuse
Till the Conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable Love should grow
Vaster then Empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine Eyes, and on thy Forehead Gaze.
Two hundred to adore each Breast.
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An Age at least to every part,
And the last Age should show your Heart.
For Lady you deserve this State;
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I alwaies hear
Times winged Charriot hurrying near:
And yonder all before us lye
Desarts of vast Eternity.
Thy Beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble Vault, shall sound
My ecchoing Song: then Worms shall try
That long preserv'd Virginity:
And your quaint Honour turn to durst;
And into ashes all my Lust.
The Grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hew
Sits on thy skin like morning glew,
And while thy willing Soul transpires
At every pore with instant Fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our Time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapt pow'r.
Let us roll all our Strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one Ball:
And tear our Pleasures with rough strife,
Thorough the Iron gates of Life.
Thus, though we cannot make our Sun

Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Into a Winter Wonderland

I'm not a winter fan. In fact I don't think it would be too much of a stretch to say that I hate winter. Hate it! I hate the snow and the ice and the cold. But since I live in the Midwest I have about five months of winter to deal with (November-March). It snows at least a little through these months. In the past I've been content to hide indoors and only go out when the snow has stopped flying. This year I'm trying something different.

My brother and his family were in town this weekend and we spent a ton of time hanging out with them. It was wonderful. But I was complaining to my very athletic brother that I wanted to start running but I didn't want to go running in the winter. We don't have a treadmill and the sidewalks are way too slick for fearless running. The conversation went a bit like this:

Me: I do want to start running but I'll probably wait until the spring.

John: Why?

Me: Well, I don't have a treadmill and I'm not going to run outside.

John: Why?

Me: The sidewalks scare me. I'm not comfortable on that kind of ice.

John: Where do you live?

Me: Huh, West Des Moines

John: And there are no fields out there?

Me: Run in a field?

John: Yep, go running in the snow. If you fall, who cares. It's soft. Find a nice snowy field and run. It doesn't matter where you run. As long as you have fun and get some benefit from it.

He's so smart! So I decided to try it. And I am happy to say that it works. I couldn't run for very long but I was able to run. I was in boots and jean and my Yaktraks but I was able to run. I'm excited to make it a regular exercise program. It was actually pretty exhilarating to be out in the cold air running, like when I was a kid. And I didn't worry about falling.

My other thing is that I've started pricing snowshoes. I want to trek out into the woods and I like the idea of using snowshoes. So far most of them have been in the $50 to $100 range but I'm going to keep looking a bit. I need to learn more about the difference. I'm excited that I'm starting to get out into the winter weather. Perhaps these months won't be quite so wasted after all.

Weird Wednesday

You all remember the Goat of Happiness. These are the Goats of Confusion. I took this picture this past summer at the Iowa State Fair. Yes the one in back doesn't have any ears. They had been cut off. I don't know why. I don't even pretend to understand why animal production is the way it is. But I thought these guys were cute (even without ears) and they were excited to have their picture taken. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself while they were trying to eat my camera.

It's Not an Obsession...

It's more of a compulsion.

I have a confession to make. I'm Cat and I am a journal addict. I just keep buying them. Jeff rolls his eyes whenever we pass a stationary store. He knows we're going in and that it will cost us a bit more money. I have almost an entire bookshelf filled with blank journals. And I just can't stop buying them. Every time I pass a cute journal I feel a need to have it.

I have probably well over 50 blank journals. I honestly haven't counted. I think I'm afraid to know. I've been slowly filling them but it's nowhere near the pace I purchase them at. The image above is just a very small selection. I buy all different kinds: spiral bound, leather bound, composition books.... I tend towards journals with fun images on the covers but I've been known to buy a nice plain one too. The awesome Know Your Zombies journal was a birthday gift from my little sister. She wanted something beautiful and timeless. So I got this. It's awesome. She even inscribed her favorite quotes on some of the pages. It is one of my favorite gifts ever. I cried while looking through it. That's hard to say that with a Know Your Zombies journal but it was really one of the best things I've ever received. I'm thinking of using it for quotes. Thanks Sis! I love it!

The journal with the keys on it is the one I'm working in now. It's so short that I'll probably fill it within the month. And I'm sure I'll find one that I simply can't live without this month. I apparently need to write more. Or find some good blinders.

Procrastination and Wanderlust

I should be working on a work project but instead I've spent most of the day reading and writing. I had the evening to myself last night so I poured myself the hottest bath I could stand and settled in with a book and a glass of wine. Apparently my book choice was good because the moment I opened my eyes this morning I started reading again. And didn't put it down until it was done.

I have wanted to read Desert Places by Robyn Davidson for a long time now. I'm a big travelogue fan but this one had a further irresistible draw. It was about nomads and the desert, two things that have drawn me since I was a tiny child. Ever since I was young I've been fascinated by the desert, those hard inhospitable places where you need your wits and a bit of luck to survive. I have devoured stories about Egypt and the Sahara but I was always the most interested with the nomad people who traveled the trade routes. Like the gypsies of Europe, the Berber people have filled me with a strange feeling of longing and wanderlust. I want to be a nomad. I want to travel and move. To constantly shift scenery. We've been living in our current house for five years now and I'm dying to move. Since college, I've never lived anywhere for longer than 5 years. I'm not a huge fan of setting down roots, at least not yet.

Davidson's book follows the Raika or Rabari people of India, a camel/sheep herding nomad group who are facing challenges to their way of life. Like nomads worldwide, land is become scarce and herders tends to be driven out by the farmers and agriculturalists. Davidson decides to document the people by traveling with a family on their migration. She goes to India to find a group and instead finds a number of false starts. It requires greasing the right palms and plenty of timing to find a family willing to take her. She discusses buying her own camels, living communally, the devastating poverty of India, and the beauty of the nomad people she spends time with. It was an honest and fascinating book. And after finishing it, I'm filled with wanderlust. I want to be like Robyn and set off to explore the world. I want to see more of the planet than my tiny corner. And I want to be an adventurer.

I've become caught up in work and earning money. I've become more sedentary and afraid. I've become complacent. All that disappeared today. I want to wander and explore and see what there is to see. The book brought out the nomad in me. And while I won't be changing home anytime soon, I will be venturing further afield from home and seeing more of the world. It was a great day for procrastinating. Tomorrow will be a day for adventuring.

Work is Killing Me

I'm in full work mode for the next couple days. Hopefully after the weekend things will settle down but until they do you'll have to content yourself with this odd picture while I head back for the second part of my exceptionally full work day (12 hours and counting).

These are my two beautiful and wonderful sisters standing in front of Albert the Bull who stands on the outskits of Audubon, Iowa. This was taken during our girls weekend to Omaha this past July.

I wish it was nice enough for short sleeves.

TV Series

Netflix is a mixed blessing. I find myself wasting tons of time watching old television shows, movies I never got around to watching, and new series. This week I've picked up two new series to watch and boy are they the opposite ends of the spectrum.

I'm a huge fan of Wallace and Gromit so I've been looking to find other Aardman Films to watch on Netflix. That lead me to a little animated series called Shaun the Sheep. The series is based around Shaun, a sheep character from Wallace and Gromit's "A Close Shave". After the film, the character was quite literally put out to pasture. He lives in an English countryside home surrounded by many other sheep, a nonchalant sheepdog, and a blind and almost incompetent farmer. The sheepdog practically runs the place (with the help of Shaun) and the barnyard gets into plenty of trouble. From alien encounters to sheep ordering (and picking up) take out pizza, each 7 to 8 minute episode is jam packed with laughs and silliness. There is no real dialogue and the characters speak only in mumbles and grunts. But we don't need words to follow along. Sometimes the slapstick says more than witty dialogue ever could. Silly and cute.

The other series I've become fascinated with is the exact opposite of silly and cute. Jeff started watching season one of Dexter and has slowly drawn me in to the creepy series about a serial killer who works for the Miami Police Department. This series is filled with witty dialogue, a great narration, and enough creepiness to keep me on the edge of my seat. Dexter, played brilliantly by Michael C. Hall, is a serial killer who focuses his powers for "good", killing people who literally get away with murder. He kills people who have been brought to trial but get off on some type of technicality. But even with his "altruistic" streak, he's being hunted. By his own coworkers. His coworkers don't know he's a killer, they just know that he's really good at figuring out blood splatter marks. Dexter keeps up a narration through the whole series so we get a chance to hear what he says and what he's actually thinking. That provides a lot of the humor which is dark and dry, my favorite. It's a creepy show and it's not for the squeamish. But if you can stomach the blood, the writing makes it well worth it.

Like I said, these are about as polar opposite as you can get. So when I'm not watching people get sliced and diced by one of the most oddly sympathetic serial killers you'll ever meet, I'm watching a fluffy sheep save the day with the help of his sheep buddies and one poor sheepdog. I might need therapy after these two series.

The Full Spectrum

I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that I'm coveting a set of books. Not just any books but one of the most incredible series filled with fantasy art ever created. The first Spectrum book came out in 1994 and the series now includes 17 titles. Spectrum, the brainchild of Cathy and Arnie Fenner, works on a call for entries basis and the results are judged by a jury of fantasy artists. The best entries are then published in book form. Gorgeous book form, crammed full of great work. I pulled this quote from the Spectrum website and I think it sums up the books beautifully.

"Spectrum doesn't exist to categorize or define fantastic art; rather, it exists to honor the imaginations of very special artists who delight in helping us see the world in a wonderfully different light. It's our job to help them reach a wider appreciative audience."

I bought Spectrum 9 about six months and was instantly hooked. Jeff and I drove to Omaha this weekend and I picked up 10 and I'm slowly adding books to my collection. My goal is to have all 17 books. They are one of the best collections of fantasy art that I've found. I love that there are so many divergent styles and artists. Each page offers a treasure trove of artistic talent. I'm excited to find that I can recognize some artists now based entirely on their styles. And some of my favorites are present: Kei Acedera, Bobby Chiu, Peter de Seve, Rick Berry, Shaun Tan, Dan Dos Santos, Rebecca Guay, Dave McKean, Brom...to name a few. And a slew of other artists. The series doesn't just include the great masters who have already established themselves, but is open to all artists.

For fans of art, these books are must haves. I will be picking up 16 and 17 soon. They are both available in the stores. The older editions will be a little more difficult to pick up. But I love the thrill of the hunt. And these books are well worth it.

Bird Books

Over the last couple years I've become a birder. It started innocently enough when I began reading the Birdchick's blog and learning more about birds. I've always wanted to take nature photos and loved her images. But after reading for only a couple weeks I started noticing the birds around me. I bought a bird guide, which eventually became three or four bird guides. I bought a cheap bird feeder and have gradually moved up to good feeders. I can now recognize all the birds that come to my feeder. And I'm starting to venture farther afield to find more birds. I've become a birder.

So it's no surprise that I've started buying nonfiction titles about birds. This past week has been bird book week. I started with Hope is the Thing With Feathers by Christopher Cokinos. Cokinos tells the fascinating and tragic tale of six bird species that have gone extinct: the Carolina Parakeet, Passenger Pigeons, the Ivory Billed Woodpecker, the Labrador Duck, the Great Auk, and the Heath Hen. I was well aware of the Passenger Pigeon but knew very little about many of the other birds. Cokinos points out that Passenger Pigeons were described in the early 1800s as wonderfully prolific. Within 50 years, they were extinct. An amazing reminder of how fast a species can go from populous to gone. Cokinos includes history of the birds, speculation about their extinction, and his own personal journey to recapture the essence of these birds. Many of the birds have been extinct for a hundred years but Cokinos tracks down old specimens, old environments, and personal descriptions written by the people who actually saw them. An amazing book, sad but inspiring.

After the difficulty of extinction, I wanted something a bit more uplifting. Tim Gallagher's In Search of Birds and Wild Places fit the bill. Gallagher is a falconer, a photographer, a birder, and an adventurer. Tim takes the reader along on some amazing journeys to some of the more remote places on earth. He describes traveling in Iceland and Greenland, searching for gyrfalcons and peregrine falcons. He describes hanging off cliffs in icy weather, boating past icebergs, and trekking in places that few people have every walked through. He describes the beauty of North Padre Island, Texas and Churchill, Manitoba. He visits California to try to save the California Condor and Alberta Canada to watch Prairie Falcons. These stories made me want to get out exploring. I want to photograph birds and nature and spend time in places that no one else have visiting. A fast read that inspired.

My next book is A Year on the Wing by Tim Dee. I've heard good things about this one and am excited to start it. I wonder if I should branch out into other types of books. I figure eventually I'll hit bird overload. But for right now I'm enjoying the birds.

Healing

A year ago today I was laying on the downstairs couch with my leg wrapped in a plaster cast, sucking down percocets like they were going out of style. I was broken and in pain. I was also completely helpless. I couldn't bring myself water, I couldn't make myself food. Standing for any length of time was horribly tiring. And more than anything I was depressed.

So this New Years I'm celebrating my wholeness. I can walk and stand and run and even crouch. I'm pain free and healthy. The amount of healing I've done over the course of the year is amazing to me. I'm still in awe that the human body can heal bones. I've been blessed with a family who pushed me to get better. I was lucky to have a great physical therapist. And I'm even more blessed to have a husband who taught me the meaning of courage.

My goal for the new year is to become more fearless. To be more willing to take a chance, in all aspects of my life. I've been broken and I healed. I've been in pain and I lived through it. I couldn't walk and now I can. I was always afraid of breaking bones and while the experience was awful, I've lived through it. And that, has given me courage. I'm ready to go out and live a bit more. I'll still be careful on the ice but I think I'm ready to venture out a bit more.

I hope your new year is adventurous. I hope you do things you've never done before. I hope you use this year to the best of your ability and that when you look back, you are proud. I hope 2011 is the best year of your life.