50+ and On The Run

Sunday Haiku XXI

2012-03-11T08:33:00.001-05:00

Hurrying, the earth

Garbs herself in springy green,

Kniving frost and drought

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A Sweeping Change

2012-03-07T13:25:00.000-06:00

O.K. -- some background:

1. My house is for sale.

2. I have two spectacular live oaks in my backyard, shading my deck.

3. Live oaks shed their leaves in March.

4. It is March.

Q.E.D.: I am sweeping. I am using the present progressive tense to indicate that this is now an ongoing activity. Maybe one day I will be able to say "I have swept," or "I was sweeping," but not until several hundred thousand more leaves commit botanical hari-kiri on my lovely, newly power-washed deck.

But it's o.k. The first day the house was on the market, I vigorously and enthusiastically swept every leaf off the porch, evenly littering the yard below. In fact, I went out there a couple of times that day. As a reward, I got a very impressive blister on my thumb.

Undaunted, I was no less enthusiastic the next morning. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping (really, I'm not making this up), and there was a light, but steady breeze. Ah, yes. The breeze.

Because of the blister, I wielded the broom considerably more gently -- and because of the wind, I adopted very goal-indifferent approach. I pretended I was a monk raking a sand garden, peacefully creating a pattern that would last only as long as nature allowed. For the monks, the raking serves as a moving meditation. The result, though beautiful, is not as important as the raking itself.

Well, I'm pretty terrible at seated meditation, and had no reason to suspect that I would be any better at the moving variety, but to my surprise, I was. Rhythmically and repetitively (and gingerly, honoring my thumb), I worked my way across the deck in patterns, grinning as more leaves fell with every stroke. Because I had absolutely no conviction that I would "finish," finishing ceased to matter, and I just enjoyed the activity.

A few hours later, I became a little restless and found myself pulled towards the broom, not thinking "Rats, I have to sweep," but rather " Yay, I get to sweep." Really.

Well, perhaps I'm nuts. But I'm going to try to stay nuts, at least until April.

More on bad meditation: Oh, I Can Do This!

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Sunday Haiku XX

2012-03-04T00:00:00.000-06:00

Damp with rain and tears,

Blue flowers and blue hours --

Shrouded from the sun

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Fiddle-dee-dee, it's Leap Day

2012-02-29T00:00:00.000-06:00

I've been restless all day today and haven't been able to determine why. Maybe because I have been stuck in the house for two weeks, cleaning and organizing and spending money I don't want to spend fixing up my house before it goes on the market. Maybe because I have no clue when or where I'll be moving when it does sell. Maybe because, even as I'm determinedly pushing forward, part of me is a teeny bit anxious and uncertain about -- well, everything. But it's unlike me to overthink these things; faced with uncertainty, I usually just have a cookie and, like Scarlett O'Hara, decide to think about it tomorrow.

Then, like a flash, it hit me. I'm not restless because of my house--I'm restless because it's Leap Day, and once again I have nothing planned. I don't know why, but Leap Day presents a challenge for me. All the other holidays come around reliably every year, and I know that if they're not special this year (I'm talking to you, Valentine's Day), I only have to wait 12 months before I get another chance to do better.

But Leap Day comes only once every four years, and if I blow it, it'll be 1,416 days before I get another chance. Should I make a special dinner? (what is traditional Leap Day food, anyway?) Should I light candles? Dance? Sing? (well, no, because I don't want to frighten the children). Stay up late? Go to bed early? Drink champagne? Wear a costume? (I'm thinking a tiara, 'cause why not?) Break some cascarones? (if you're not from San Antonio, you're gonna have to google that one).

Sigh. I just don't know. But I'm pretty sure that's why I was restless today. Guess I'll just have a cookie and think about it tomorrow.

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Sunday Haiku XIX

2012-02-26T10:50:00.000-06:00

Willingly naked

and shivering, the live oak

awaits her spring leaves.

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Happy Birthday, Dad!

2012-02-21T15:48:00.000-06:00

As today is my Dad's 87th birthday, I am rerunning "Now That's Inspiration," which has become my 3rd most popular post of all time. It's easy to see why -- he's a pretty great person and it's a pretty great story. Here is an updated photo, taken just a week ago at his youngest grandson's rugby game. Keep on keeping on, Dad!

Two weeks ago, I wrote that my sister, my good-spirited friend Milinda and I (along with 30,000 other people) finished the San Antonio Rock 'n Roll half-marathon. As none of us had ever even thought of participating in an event like that, I can tell you that we were pretty proud of ourselves (as were our families, who had harbored some serious doubts about the whole enterprise).

But, so you don't think we have swelled heads, you have to consider our role model. A few years ago, my dad--who had not participated in track since elementary school in the 1930s, nor ridden a bike since at least the 1950s--watched an 80-year old man running in the St. Petersburg "Meek and Mighty" triathlon. Dad's reaction was simply, "I could do that." So the next year, when he was 84, my dad entered and finished his first triathlon.

As he made the final turn, he heard the announcer tell the crowd to cheer for the winner of the 80+ age group. He took off his hat, broke into a run, and crossed the finish line smiling.

I don't know which was more palpable: my dad's excitement or my mom's relief that he had finished. The adrenaline was still flowing a few minutes later when he was interviewed by a camera crew from the local news station. Asked how he felt, my dad said, "It felt like I just hit the winning home run and my best girl was in the stands watching." Isn't that cool?

Oh, and by the way, he entered and won his age group the following year, at 85. So, until this blog becomes 80+ and on the Run, he remains the family champ.

Related post: Rock n' Roll is Here to Stay
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Sunday Haiku XVIII

2012-02-19T00:00:00.000-06:00

A few drops of rain

And the parched earth forgets that

Dry will come again

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Impatient in Argentina

2012-02-17T10:43:00.000-06:00

As excited as we were to arrive in Ushuaia, Argentina, we were more excited to leave. Not because there is anything wrong with this semi-quaint town at the tip of Tierra del Fuego, but because we were anxious to board the ship that would take us to our "real" destination, Antarctica.

Arriving Ushuaia from Buenos Aires (so excited)

Departing Ushuaia en route to Antarctica the next day (way more excited)

Now, I'm old enough to know that every part of a journey is...well, part of the journey; nonetheless, I probably didn't give Ushuaia a fair shot at the time. Looking back, though, I realize that our time there was pretty great. (More about that in a later post.)

We arrived on the afternoon of December 31st, so most of the shops and restaurants were closed or closing. But it was New Year's Eve, so we rushed to the liquor store and bought champagne for later. Then we found a little convenience store where we bought snacks--and where my son was given chicle (gum) instead of change!

Rushed, hungry, and tired of all the beef we'd had in Buenos Aires, we quickly found an open restaurant and ordered pasta, seafood and cold beer. Yep, an Irish pub at the southernmost tip of South America. Go figure.

Irish pub on Avenida San Martin

King crab cannelloni

King crab cocktail

Then we headed to our hotel, where we found this view:

So, really, who could complain?

More Antarctica

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Snow Angels

2012-02-13T19:45:00.001-06:00

On Sunday, my sister Susan and I participated in the St. Petersburg Rock 'n Roll Half-Marathon. It was soooo cold and windy at the start that we thought we had mistakenly entered a race in St. Petersburg, Russia, rather than St. Petersburg, Florida. (People keep telling me that Florida is warm and sunny in the winter, but I have yet to see evidence of this during my many, many visits.) Brrrrrr.

As my teeth were chattering, it occurred to me that exactly one month before, my boys and I were in Antarctica.

This was one of the only days we had snow. I swear it was warmer than in Florida this weekend. Warm enough for this sort of nonsense, anyway:

Snow Angels!

And Shirtlessness!

And--no kidding--swimming in 33 degree water studded with icebergs.

As I was too chicken to do the polar bear swim at Whaler's Bay, and otherwise kept my clothes on, I was not entitled to partake in the celebratory Jaegerbombs:

But I promise you this: if Susan and I ever agree to compete in another race as cold as the one we did this weekend, I will definitely buy us a round...or two.

More Antarctica

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Pictures I Wish I'd Taken

2012-02-11T00:00:00.000-06:00

One of my 2012 resolutions is to improve my photography.

Unfortunately, I haven't gotten very much past the resolving stage.

In early January, I was on my way to Antarctica packing a brand new camera and all sorts of good intentions. Intentions like "reading the manual." Oops. Well, I meant to read it.

In light of my modest effort, I was kind of pleased with this gull photo. The penguins were gracious enough to stand obligingly still and pose while I struggled with the settings, but the gulls, skuas and albatrosses just refused to cooperate and insisted on flying away while I was still fumbling with shutter speeds and apertures and ISOs. As you might expect, I came away with some almost-good photos.

But because I like my readers, and think you deserve better than that, I want to share some really great bird photos from Cathy, John, Oleg, Trevor and Scott of the wonderful expedition staff of the Corinthian II who shared the following shots with me. Hope you enjoy them!

Aren't these just spectacular?

More Antarctica

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Icebergs

2012-02-07T00:00:00.000-06:00

Like lots of people, I have trouble imagining distances. When I was little, I measured everything in "Daddys." I knew my Dad was six feet tall, so I just compared everything to him. I suppose I shouldn't admit it, but even now I estimate the size of a room by picturing a whole row of Daddys laying down end to end and multiplying by six. Hey, don't judge me -- it works. Still, the "Papa method" of measurement has its limitations: when I invented this method I had not yet grasped the concept of "area."

A 19-mile long crack in a glacier in Antarctica is expected to calve an iceberg measuring 350 square miles. To compare, Manhattan is about 23 square miles. San Francisco is less than 50 square miles. Cairo, one of the world's most populous cities, is just over 82 square miles. While interesting, these figures still aren't that helpful. Tell you what: go to Google Maps, locate your house and see what is 19 miles away in one direction, then go 19 miles in a perpendicular direction. Draw a square. That is how big this iceberg is expected to be. Yikes!

While you're worrying about that, here are some photos of the

comparatively tiny icebergs we saw on our recent trip to Antarctica.

They really are that color

These were relatively small ones, but they look huge compared to our little Zodiacs

Makes me want to go back. But maybe not when the giant one is calving.

More Antarctica

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Super Sunday Haiku

2012-02-05T00:00:00.000-06:00

No Bowl, no matter:

The Terrible Towel rocks

Any latitude

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In the Running

2012-02-03T00:00:00.000-06:00

I haven't yet decided which Antarctica photo is my favorite.

But this is definitely in the running.

More Antarctica

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Unendangered Species

2012-02-02T00:00:00.000-06:00

I'm a fairly terrible bird-watcher. This may be result of my first birding experience was when I was nine years old, on a salt marsh in coastal Maine. It was early, barely dawn. There had been no breakfast. It was chilly and there were approximately fifty bazillion mosquitoes. Oh, and some egrets. I wasn't that impressed. Although the blue heron was cool.

Subsequent experiences weren't much better. Mostly I just strained my neck swiveling my binoculars back and forth unsuccessfully looking for a glimpse of the golden-headed scarlet-breasted whatever that everyone else spotted with ease. I must have been the person for whom camouflage was invented, because I can never see anything.

That's why I really liked penguin watching. They are big. They hold still. They roost on the ground. They do not fly away while you study them. They are cooperative with photographers. AND...there are lots and lots of them. Lots and lots and LOTS.

Not only that, but it's easy to tell one species from another. They very thoughtfully developed such clearly different markings that even a rotten birder like me can identify each species at a glance. So if you want to take me with you on your next trip to Antarctica, I will happily go as your penguin guide. This little guy is helpfully named the Chinstrap penguin.

See the chinstrap marking?

The Gentoo (and only the Gentoo) has a strikingly bright orange beak. This allows you to identify them quickly and at a distance. Your friends will be so impressed with your ornithology skills.

And the Adelie penguin conveniently has neither a chinstrap nor an orange beak, so you can identify it at a glance simply by the process of elimination...

And if you're lucky, you can see a whole bunch of 'em playing on an iceberg.

More Antarctica
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One Down, Eleven to Go

2012-01-31T00:00:00.000-06:00

I looked at the calendar this morning and realized that January is over. At least it will be in a few hours. We are 1/12 of the way through 2012. By my calculation, we should all have completed a little over 8% of our resolutions (as usual, I've done the math for you).

So naturally, I have to ask you a question: How are you doing with your resolutions? You know the ones I mean--the ones I encouraged you to make way back in early December.

I'm happy to report that I'm about on track. My first resolution was to take a great trip. So in January, I took the two coolest people on the planet to the coldest place on the planet. Bingo! Resolution 1 completed.

Now, one of those cool people suggested that I was cheating by making a resolution that I had already planned to do. Not at all. I like to make fun, achievable resolutions--it exponentially increases my chances of actually completing them. Take, for example, 2009, when I resolved to drink more wine (see Resolutions You Can Keep).

Even if you haven't even started working on a single resolution, don't panic; it's not too late. If none of your resolutions can be completed in one day, just add a new one to the list (see So Much Time, So Little to Do). It can be anything at all (maybe clean out the trunk of your car--it only takes one big trash bag and 20 minutes--and that long only if you really do have a lot of junk in your trunk!). There is no rule that you can't add resolutions as you go along. For instance, doing Warrior II on a glacier was not on my original list, but I added it after the fact. Yay! Another success!

So relax, think of something you ought to do that you can absolutely, definitely finish before bedtime, do it, and then add it to your list of resolutions. See? Problem solved. Although you'd better get started on February--it's a short month.

Related posts: Oh, I Can Do This!
More Antarctica

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Sunday Haiku XVI

2012-01-29T07:35:00.001-06:00

Drowsy on warm rays

Lupines dream not of winter

But of summer's breeze

More Haiku

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Soup For You!

2012-01-27T00:00:00.000-06:00

The other day, for no reason that I can explain, I decided to make split pea soup. This is odd, because in the past 52 years, I have never made split pea soup, nor, to the best of my recollection, have I ever eaten split pea soup.

Still--the urge was there, so what could I do but go to the grocery store and buy...split peas?

I got home, cobbled together a couple of different recipes, and an hour later, this is what I had:

Yum!

My Completely Made-Up Recipe for Split Pea Soup

4 C chicken stock
2 C water
1 pound dried split peas, rinsed
1 onion, coarsely chopped
half a bag of baby carrots, coarsely chopped
1 bay leaf
3 T olive oil
1 T butter
salt, pepper and dried thyme, to taste

Heat butter and oil in deep soup pot, add onions and saute on medium heat till softened. Add stock and water, split peas, carrots, salt and bay leaf. Simmer, covered, for about 35 minutes (peas should be soft but not mushy). Remove bay leaf and puree about 3/4 of the soup using immersion blender or food processor, and return to pot. Add a pinch of thyme and more salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Soup will thicken on standing--add more stock or water if needed.

Serve excruciatingly hot with a crispy roll and your favorite wine.
Or you can go to the Internet--I hear they have recipes there!

Other Recipes I Pretty Much Made Up
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They Call Me "The Procrastinator"

2012-01-25T12:53:00.000-06:00

Since my return from the frozen South, I have been in what, for me, is a frenzy of cleaning, organizing, straightening, re-pairing, re-placing, re-locating and re-cycling. What I have not been doing much is "re-laxing." So I guess I can forgive myself for the other morning, when, after reading the newspaper, I went back through and read it all over again, in case I had missed something. (I hadn't).

Then I made another cup of coffee and nursed it while I did the New York Times crossword puzzle, the San Antonio Express-News crossword puzzle, the Sudoku, the Jumble AND the Cryptoquip. And I don't even like doing the Cryptoquip. The Cryptoquip is essentially the Everest of comic page word games--I had to do it because it was there. And because I didn't want to start a new project.

I did eventually shower, though, so at least there's that...

Related posts: Oh, I Can Do This
So Much Time, So Little to Do
Resolutions You Can Keep

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Sunday Haiku XV

2012-01-22T00:00:00.000-06:00

Sleepless colossus,

Sovereign of icy seas,

Rests at last on land

More Haiku

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A Journey I'm (Probably) Never Going to Take

2012-01-19T08:04:00.000-06:00

As I have mentioned before, I daydream a lot. Whether I'm driving or showering or doing laundry or shopping, my mind is generally elsewhere, having some fun on its own. I don't actually consider this a problem at all--it's like getting to live two lives without having to deal with the problems of multiple personality disorder or the inconveniences of reality.

Prior to my latest adventure in Argentina and Antarctica, I never once daydreamed about traveling the Pan-American Highway, which runs from Prudhoe Bay in Alaska to Tierra del Fuego at the southern tip of South America. It is 17,848 kilometers or about 11,100 miles* (don't you appreciate how I always convert the metric system for you?). Now I find that lots of people make that journey--some by automobile, a surprising number by bicycle and some on foot (really).

Even when I'm power daydreaming, I don't really imagine myself walking 11,100 miles through mountains and jungles and swamps and deserts and forests. (O.K., I did imagine it, but my fictional self quickly dismissed the idea as too hard for my real self).

Still, if I had, this is what I would have seen at the end of the journey.

Prettier than I could have daydreamed.

*estimates of the "real" road distance of the Pan-American highway vary so widely that I just used the as-the-crow-flies distance from the sign. If I wasn't just daydreaming, I would have to be more accurate.

Related posts: Antarctica and Argentina

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Really? Betty White?

2012-01-17T00:00:00.000-06:00

Every so often, something occurs in the universe that simply cannot be explained. No scientist, no historian, no philosopher can say how or why certain things happen. One of those things happened to me this evening, and to say I am surprised would be a monumental understatement. And yet, it happened: I somehow watched Betty White's 90th Birthday: a Celebration of America's Golden Girl. All of it. Every minute.

Now, I am not without discernment, and I do know how to use the power button on the remote. Earlier in the week, I did not watch the Miss America Pageant. Just yesterday, I did not watch the Golden Globe Awards. Still, tonight I watched.

As a result, my heart is so utterly full of sweetness and charity and warmth that my brain is unable to focus on writing a wry or witty post. So I am taking the easy route and simply posting flower photos. Here's to you, Betty.

Adjacent to the pier in Ushuaia, Argentina is a small public remembrance garden. On New Year's Day, anxious to board the ship to Antarctica, but forced to wait ashore, I wandered over to the garden and shot these photos of poppies.

Not bad, eh?

More Antarctica
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Sunday Haiku XIV

2012-01-15T08:28:00.000-06:00

Fluffy gentoo chicks

Innocent of killing winds

'Till their turn to roost

More Haiku

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Sunset, Sunrise

2012-01-13T00:00:00.000-06:00

Yesterday in San Antonio, the sun rose at 7:30 in the morning and I totally missed it. After a long, long, long return trip from the Antarctic peninsula, I peeled off my traveling clothes, took a hot shower and fell blissfully into my own bed, where I slept undisturbed for an uncharacteristically wonderful 9 hours.

But 10 days ago, while our ship was crossing the Drake Passage and after an equally long, long, long trip from Texas, Florida, Buenos Aires and Ushuaia, I was not at all ready to sleep when the sun was setting at nearly 11:00 p.m. Instead, I put on my big red parka, grabbed my new camera (thanks, boys!) and ventured out on deck to capture the sunset.

Although the views were amazing, I finally forced myself to return to the cabin and get some sleep. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I was a little careless when closing the blackout curtains, and was awakened just a bit over 4 hours later by the light streaming in. So what could I do but put on my big red parka, grab my camera and go out on deck to see the sunrise?

Pretty cool, huh? (And just so you know, these photos are completely unretouched.)

More Antarctica

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We're Back!

2012-01-11T18:13:00.000-06:00

Nearly 72 straight hours of travel

by land, sea and air from here to home...

Lots and lots of photos and stories to come--after laundry and sleep!

More Antarctica

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Ready for a Word Problem?

2011-12-27T21:28:00.000-06:00

If the plane leaves in 11.5 hours to travel 5102.3 miles (8211.4 km), and factoring in 2 layovers of 1.5 and 3.0 hours each, and with an anticipated arrival time of 6:45 am (ART) + 1 day, and 2/3 of the travelers are 99% packed and the other one is at Wal-Mart "getting some stuff," answer the following:

a) will actual smoke emerge from the mother's ears? and
b) will that increase or decrease the likelihood of future frostbite?

Show your work.

Related posts: I Love Penguins
Yep, She's Going to Antarctica

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