Justice for All

 

Still images CBS news

Awful photography on my part

but wonderful outcome!   

Guilty!

Critical Analysis

,

Started the morning finishing an article in New Yorker on forever chemicals.  What has been done to mother earth and her inhabitants for the sake of corporate money is so very depressing to say the least. Sad, so very sad. Knowledge known and yet repressed. We humans can justify most anything, especially if there is money involved. 

Moving on, I read an article on liberalism through the lens of a number of books. Much was new to me and some hard to grasp. There was one passage, though, that took me back to my classroom. I would often say to students that I didn't always treat students equally, but fairly. I didn't apologize for it. I smiled this morning to see such thoughts coming back to me. 

And now, reading over the passage, for the life of me I'm not even sure that they're saying what I said. I tried to treat people fairly, which meant, sometimes, not equally. 

Who knew I was in the midst of a philosophical debate!

Instinctively Known

Some post script thoughts: I had a sheltered, small-town childhood. It was wonderful. So, too, my education and travel; it was not worldly. Going on to college, I grew and changed as a person, but not necessarily as an intellectual. And all of that is okay; as Popeye used to say, "I ams what I am."

But, I am thankful that now, and for years, I have had the chance to grow intellectually. So many of my friends are people who knew so much so many more years before I did. I don't feel inferior, just lucky to have the friends and reading to challenge me. The stable, happy, care-free life I came from has helped to shape me into the person I am today. 

That's it. No conclusion, just thoughts. 

Sunday Morning

 

Who'd have guessed? Away from the lake with not even a puddle in sight, there they were. 

Coming back from our walk, they, proudly taking a stroll, were moving out of the way as others passed, and then, out and about they came again.

Geese on the Trail

Contemporary Art

 A month ago today I took this photo

      I liked the line.      

               I liked the color. 

                        I just liked the look. 

I've purged my photos since then -

    often - keeping it each time. 

This morning, scrolling through, I saw the photo in anew.

Three forces: 

    history, 

       nature, 

          technology. 

Is that how art is conceived? 

    The vision, the simmering contemplation, the, then, revelation?

                                                             Or, just an indication: 

                                                                                                   enough coffee has been had. 

Just a Photo

Boxes

of light

and a cat

inside,

Outside

An Example

 

Of Finding a New Perspective

More

 

New Yorker as normalcy maker

Me

Well, Good

 

I'm Not That Bad

The Past

 

The window open

     cat leaves, calls come

     evoking another time.

The fog pinpoints the

     present 

     to the past.

In the Present

  

Fes - ta - vaaal!

What I saw: The return of a gentleman, working. Last year I saw it and thought, "What?!? Working at a fun event?!?" Then I came around to, "Wow! Working while enjoying!!" What a difference. Live and learn. 

I also noted (which most wouldn't, silly me) that porta potties are recyclable. Good, and hey, I say, when in the john read what is available. Sit and learn.

Finally, a musician who is a comedian or a comedian who is a musician? I love to laugh and I like good songs. We saw Aaron Raitiere last year and liked him even more this year, and he played twice. I borrowed a chair in the second row each day to truly get all I could out of his time. To hear collective laughter is a treat. To hear funny sometimes and truth telling other times in a song is a treat too. Also bought a sign Aaron made that sure seems to fit me. Look Out! (For what no one ever seems to know.)

Music Made: Every day began mellow, moving into Americana in the afternoon, with the night becoming high energy. This band from Friday has to stand in for all the nights as I enjoyed the music rather than the taking of photos. There seemed to be more collaboration between musicians this year too, which is unique and often wonderful. Jim Lauderdale of, for me, Grassroots, came out both nights to sing with the bands. 

The sunshine: Much like a lot of this trip, there was rain. Thunder and lightening rain, heavy rain, rain that created a pond where high ground should have been. No matter. The Minnie made room for me whenever I needed it. Saturday morning I was up and enjoying sunshine and warmth. Rain can come, but it can go too. 

From Greer to Alexandria: a visit with family to finish the trip. Dinner at a new, now-favorite brewery with a wonderful burger in the hand on toasted gluten-free bread, fries, good talk and a beer, and then in the morning homemade bread - delicious! - with bird watching and a walk with Moose to get... 

Coffee: The fuel for fun. With Millie Miles as my guide, I fell in love with my car. 2300 plus miles and I'm still standing. Who says an old dog can't learn new tricks? This dog is ready to do lots more road trips! 

 Last leg of the trip: Skunkfest and DC

Then

At Greer last year; at Tybee this year:

Meet Hugo, as in "You go."

And Now

Wandering

From Wedding 

To Beach

Wonderful!

What Fun, cont.

 

Friday's word.a.day: asymptote

Now, love.

In Geometry

History in a Street

In Lexington, we made time to go around the corner to Stonewall Jackson's home.  I was looking forward to it the night before because, as a teen I had read a biography on Andrew Jackson,* and while history's view of him has certainly changed - and should have, he stays in my mind for the 'kitchen cabinet' that Jackson had and also for the fact that it was our young who explained to me why he has been so discredited. I love the editing of history to take in not just white man's take on it, but the diverse and more truthful look.

But, of course, me being me, had confused Andrew with Stonewall. Ah well, we would go anyway, and did, where I was reminded that he died of, in today's language, 'friendly fire,' a so very weird phrase. Remembering that from my history lessons, I had something to connect him to.

But then, at the home with an able guide who shared stories with us, the best wasn't about the man, but about the house. In 1851, the town decided to lower the road.... 5 feet!! The steepness of the hills made for difficult, if not impossible, travel in buggies and carts into the young town. Imagine that - five feet dug down by hand, and, again, of course, slavery hands. 

Top left: Love the irreverent plaque of history.

The narrow alley shows, on the right, a close-up of the house's foundation.

Top right: explanation of "accidentally wounded by his own men."

Looking at the photos, bottom left, the original stone foundation changing to brick is the old level of ground. Glancing to the photo next to it, the amount of land moved on the side continues with foundation even more exposed.** 

The door was moved to the center and steps added for their entrance. Quite steep, at a 90 degree angle to the house, and narrow, I'd wondered at them. Mystery solved but amazement added.

Edited and Revised

*from a Reader's Digest condensed version. They came 4 times a year. Along with other books and the encyclopedias we had, they sat on the built-in shelves at the end of the living room in the home Dad built. I'm every thankful for the love of knowledge and reading I was raised with.

** This photo is from 1890, much later than when the Jacksons were there. In disrepair, it's the only one I had that showed how much the road had been lowered. The house, now, as a museum, has been restored to the beauty it was when Stonewall and wife lived there.

Tulips and Time

The first spring at our house - so many years ago - I planted tulips, one hundred tulips, a small grove of them. Back home, my mom had numerous perennials beds and petunias down the front walk (where we played hopscotch). Tulips, roses, honeysuckle, sweet peas, iris and petunias. My mother in flowers. I have them all, but for the petunias. Oh, back in the day, I tried. Too delicate and taking too much effort, I still, every once in a while, bought the purple ones in a hanging basket. The smell was worth it. 

The other morning, seeing the lone tulip, I realized it had come back to bloom. One of a hundred, but enough, 40 years on, to make me stop and remember.

Memories Bloom

Me

From wordsmith.org yesterday: the word for the day, tangent,

There I am, out on the blue line, enjoying myself,

clueless to everyone's confusion.

and the quote,

"It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do. Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one. Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen." 

                                                                ~  Jerome K. Jerome, humorist and playwright (2 May 1859-1927)

In Life and Leisure

What We Find

 

Like the centuries old working well we found in the middle of our boutique hotel in Spain, last night we came to another hotel in the middle of another town, and found this:

History and beauty.

When We Look