The Tulip Break

I'm reading a book, The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan, he is also the author of the The Omnivores Dilemma, another book I've referenced in previous posts.

The chapter I'm reading is all about the Tulip frenzy of the 1600's in Holland. A few things I noted are of particular interest, and relate to beauty.

The picture you see is of a "broken tulip." Most tulips are pure colors of yellow, red, purple, white and even black. When partial colors started to appear like brushstrokes of flamed hues, the European frenzy called, Tulipmania occured.

What they didn't know way back then, was that the cause of this color break was a virus spread by the peach potato aphid. Prior to this, Dutch farmers tried many different techniques to cause breaks to happen. Gardeners sprinkled colored paint on the base of the flower, others sprinkled plaster dust. Anyone who happened to grow a broken tulip was rewarded for their efforts.

One reason for the frenzy is because of how the broken tulip was viewed. "Beauty always takes place in the particular," writes Elaine Scarry, "and if there are no particulars, the chances of seeing it [beauty] go down." It's like when you go to the tulip fields and see a blanket of red tulips with one yellow tulip beckoning to be noticed. Beauty in the particular.

Isn't it interesting that the virus which caused the break, garnered more followers who planted more flowers, thus spreading the virus that would eventually kill the species? Is there something to learn from this now?

How about the way we eat? The way we tan our bodies? Our lack of exercise? I'm not preaching to you...I love Red Robin french fries, Snickerdoodles, Sugar cookies, laying out in the sun, oh and pizza...but I do want to make better choices about these things. A chocolate truffle looks so beautiful with its swirls of milky cocoa and yummy flavors, but am I supposed to eat them en masse while reading?

So, I am going to notice beauty in the particular, then take a closer look at the long-term benefits, or lack of benefits, and maybe just eat one tuffle...maybe two.

The Prime of Life

In this day and age, growing older is looked at much like that of a mouse on a running wheel: forever running but never getting away from time, aging and the future. If you've read previous posts you know my anti-aging remedy dilemmas and quest for something that will erase fine lines, wrinkles, age-spots and so on. But a couple of days ago, I learned a knew perspective that is helping me to see beyond those superficial things, and onward toward fullness of life and the splendor of gray hair (even if it's covered up with "Golden Amber" by Feria).

Eli was a priest of the Lord in Shiloh. Eli had two sons, Phinehas and Hophni who were wicked because they took the sacrificial meat before the fat portions were burned off. It was customary that when the people came to sacrifice, the priests were to get whatever a three-pronged forked brought up after it was plunged into the pot where the meat was boiling. Phinehas and Hophni wanted the raw meat so they could roast it. They wanted more than was their due as priests.

Because of this selfish act, Eli's family would be judged because he failed to restrain his sons and there would never be an old man in his family line. All Eli's descendants would die in the prime of their life.

This was interesting to me, because even though we cringe as birthdays roll around, and we start getting anxious as the years go by, at least we are living and able to see what has been. We will hopefully get to see our children's children, the passing of seasons, the way a maple tree grows over the years.

I consider myself in the prime of life, although that number seems to be going up...isn't it 60yrs. now? So, even though getting older seems dreadful, I'm going to try and look at things differently...I get to enjoy my children and watch them grow. I may still try a few tricks to spruce up the outer shell, but on the inside my heart is still beating, one beat, one day, one year at a time. I'm alive in my prime...!

Passion

I love watching people who are passionate about what they do. It makes me want to become more bold and intense about the passions in my life. The training and dedication it takes to be passionate is something many of us ignore, hoping to do a little here and a little there to reach a status-quo outcome. I would like to learn how to become more diligent in pursuing the passions in my life.

Recently on Orcas Island, my friends and I had the pleasure of listening to a violin duo play amazing music, at sunset during dinner. These young people were very talented and able to play at length for the hungry patrons. I was surprised that they played Hungarian Dances No. 5 by Brahms. This is one of my favorite pieces because it is varied between a loud crescendo and quiet adagio sounds. Just when you might be impressed with my musical knowledge, let me clarify that I know about this particular piece from watching Disney's Little Einsteins. There you go. Listen here... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKHQ36NOxzk

As I watched them, I saw the most amazing thing. They both had bruises from the violin on the side of their sweet faces. Now that is passion...not caring about the bruises it takes to do what you love. I'd never seen these violin "kisses" before and thought it was the neatest thing I'd seen so far on the island.

It made me remember times I've watched the lead singer of Coldplay, Chris Martin, and wonder what it would be like to see him in person. The way he plays the piano using his entire body, makes me appreciate his talent and passion even more. Take a look... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ful-M_MbL4

Of course, I tend to do many things at once, and none of it very well. I'll get excited about learning French or cooking difficult recipes, but soon the excitement falls away and becomes more of a longing, than a completion. So to see people living out even one of their passions in life, is very inspiring to me.

What is your passion? How do you go about it? I'm not sure what my passion is, but this weekend inspired me to hone in on one thing, and put myself into that until my body is marked by it in some way...bruises and all.

Cycles of Life

Today my husband's grandmother was, how should I put this, gently nudged out of the retirement home she's been living in for close to a year. It seems this little octogenarian was too hard to handle...at least she's still got spunk.

She wandered off to the local grocery store, and it wasn't that she was disoriented and couldn't find her way back, she flat-out was not going back to that place! This is not a good situation from a safety standpoint, so she is now in a facility better equipped to handle her unique brand of huff-and-puffery...for the time being. We realize that she just wants a loved one around, and circumstances are changing to make this a reality for her.

It got me thinking about some earlier posts on sowing seeds and tending to our kiddos with love and attention...but the elderly are just as fragile. Over the past few years this southern Georgia peach has gone through some funny, interesting and sad changes.

The cycle of life is precious, fragile, frustrating and tender. Just when we retire from working for forty-five years, a mother needs our constant care; after raising kids for eighteen, they decide never to leave; when a mother sends her last one to school full-time, she discovers she doesn't know what to do with her life now. The unknowns of life are exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

So tonight I'll be thankful that although my mind is frazzled and forgetful much of the time, at least I'm aware of it and know where I am. Who knows that in fifty years, I may be escaping to Fred Meyer in hopes of finding someone who loves me and someone to love.

A Relaxing Getaway?

A common thread in life these days is the desire to enjoy our time. Our schedules are busy and we nearly melt into bed at night after each day's activities. I love days where I'm not on a time constraint, having to be somewhere at a certain time. I call these Halcyon days. So last year when the stress mounted, my husband arranged for me to go to Salish Lodge in Sammamish, Wa. overnight.

Usually, when I get to do something like this it is spur-of-the-moment. I hardly have enough time to pack, arrange for a spa treatment and dinner reservations (I have to eat). It's not as if he's kicking me out the door (I don't think), it's just that he may recognize that I might blow like Mt. Vesuvius. That wouldn't be pretty...so he sends me out for a break.

It was a beautiful day that day, and I just loved the drive out with all the Evergreen trees standing tall and yellow-washed from the sun's rays. I quickly checked in, changed and went to eat before my facial at 7pm. On my way to the restaurant there was a wedding reception going on, and I immediately missed my husband and kiddos, and this is why I go...I always come back filled up with love for them. Well, it's one reason anyway...onward to dinner.

When I dine alone, a book is my companion. I believe I was reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. I'm sure I had salmon for my main dish, but what I remember most was the Heirloom Tomato Salad. My grandfather grew tomatoes in pots on his porch in California, and you've never tasted a tomato until you've had one fresh from the vine. I used to get acid sores in my mouth from eating so many in my youth. So when the chance to have a tomato salad, heirloom no-less, I could not pass. Satiated from dinner, it was time for the spa.

I was told I could use the hot tub and steam room before or after my treatment, so I packed a bathingsuit. I planned on putting it under my dress, not wanting to be transported back to changing in a high-school locker room environment. But as I was shoving items in my overnight bag, I accidentally packed a bikini, it being black and the same texture as my one-piece. And it gets worse, somehow I acquired bottoms that must've belonged to an unknown friend I've travelled with in the last 12 years. I've travelled a lot with many friends and black is a common bathing suit color, and well, sometimes you acquire things that aren't yours. Even worse, I wore them.

The lady who did my facial, was no-nonsense and had a European accent...the accent, I thought, is why they hired her. I believe I whinced when she turned the bright light on to examine my face. She said my skin was dehydrated, sagging and in need of some extraction. I don't quite remember the wonderful aromas or the rich creamy slathering of product, I'm sure they were there, but I do remember the pain from extraction and a gentle slapping at the end. Well if I must endure the rigors of the spa, I shall.

So after my facial, I timidly ventured into the hot tub area to see if the coast was clear enough for my ensemble. I cased the place and noticed that in one hot tub (there were two), were two women who were very cozy, and a loud man and women, who I assumed had already been to a lengthy dinner. I didn't want to bother them...so off to the other one I went. Thankfully, it was empty so I quickly dipped myself in the large tub, but forgot about how clothing floats upwards when you get into water. My too-big bottoms gave a pull toward the sky, and I was so thankful nobody else was around! But soon more people entered the area, so I got out of there fast.

Next, It was finally time to relax in my room. I love to study, so I sleep on one side of the bed and the books sleep on the other. I called my husband to tell him about my experience so far, and how glad I was to be in my room. We laughed about the bathing suit, and I told him that I might start a fire in the fireplace. He said, "Be careful."

There is a reason for this. When we were first married, I was barbequeing and caught my shorts on fire. They were the kind of shorts with fringe on the bottom, I've always liked jeans with holes and tears, and these were the ones I donned for the evening. The fire was going pretty good, but as I was putting the lid back on, a giant flame shot out the side and caught my fringe on fire. I started screaming and calling for my husband, and by the time he got there I was working my way inside the house from the deck patting myself as I struggled to get my shorts off. The poor neighbors. So, the caution to be careful was warranted. I threw on a robe just in case I had to call the front desk for help...but all went well.

The rest of the stay went on without incident. I returned home thankful for family and a little laughter. My travel tips: make sure you have the right bathingsuit, plan ahead and store up funny little moments for those days when things aren't that funny. Oh, and try not to schedule the last facial of the day...it might be painful.

Cracks, Sags & Dimwits

The title to this blog is actually a book title I found on my husband's shelf. Being the mid-thirties woman that I am, my thoughts immediately acquired an anti-aging slant, and so I took it off his shelf thinking it had been one of my misplaced books. I quickly realized it was a book for builders and contractors, my husband the handy-man has all sorts of these. But it got me thinking about cracks and sags...

Recently, I discovered a pesky forehead crack that seems to keep getting deeper with days gone by. It is no wonder since my face is either contorted with furrowed brows toward daily conundrums, or into an attentive pose with eyebrows raised (as if I can hear better this way.) Lately, I've tried mentally telling myself to relax my forehead, but it's still there and I fear it will turn into a mocking smile.

And last year my kind husband, recognizing that I needed a break from reality, sent me to a spa. That trip is a blog all its own, but one incident fits here. My "technician" was a very-thorough and tell-it-like-it-is woman with a European accent, and I was her last facial of the day. Among other things, she noticed that my face had taken to sagging and began to slap me under my chin. I tried not to laugh at the oxymoron of my "relaxing" getaway...being slapped was not what I had in mind, but if it helps...

It is hard to know if anything peddled out there for anti-aging really works. I ran into an advertisement for Caracoal Cream, which has "snail extract" and apparently many of the top-rated spas use products with this extract in them. I don't know about you, but anything I've ever seen come out of a snail is not something I would put on my face. And what a disgusting job someone has to deliver this "special" product to us. Eeeeu (sp?).

If you know of something that really works, let me know. And if you see me without a facial expression, just know I'm not angry, I'm just trying to relax my forehead. Hopefully it won't get to a point where I start slapping myself. If you see this please stop me.

Zoom, Zoom, Zoom

This blog is about growth and transformation and so here is an update on what I'm learning to nurture this growing process, but remember before you read on...baby steps.

Yesterday was a doozy of a day, one that I wondered how I was going to make it when all I wanted to do was sleep...I'm good at this. The night before I had a minor medical situation because of some stones in my kidneys, nothing too drastic but annoying none-the-less. Anyway, I was up way past my 9:00pm bedtime dealing with that, which made yesterday a day I greeted very low on the energy radar. And so it began.

My husband had to wake me up because my new phone (actually a new replacement phone because my other one would only allow me to talk on speaker) would not let me sign in to set my alarm. So, at 6:45am I decided to "live chat" Tmobile to see if there was a solution to this problem. It turns out that I "need" data services which will let me connect to the Tmobile server at a rate of $25 per month. After much pecking away on the typewriter with the "live chat" person, Randy, Tmobile would not allow me temporary access to sign in and use a phone that I paid for. They would also not be reimbursing me for the phone that I can't use. I chatted back, "ridiculous," and clicked off at 6:50am.

Next, I had to wake the kids for school, a job in-and-of itself, while using my old phone on speaker to talk to a real person at Tmobile. Maureen said she would allow me access at a prorated rate, so I can sign in and use my phone. The Tmobile G1 is a great phone, and works without Internet access (I actually had the data services (Internet on phone) originally, but my husband said it was a bit much, and so here we are.) What I learned from that experience is that I'm much nicer talking on the phone to a person, than chatting "live." And that I will be having to write a letter to Tmobile for this ridiculous policy...what if I had an emergency and couldn't use my phone? Also, I like the word, "ridiculous."

After the phone fiasco, it was time to head out to the car. I could here all of my children laughing in the garage when they were supposed to be putting on their shoes, so I opened the door to check in on them and to my great frustration, there was a ginormous pile of, how shall I say...elimination, which they thought was the funniest thing they've ever seen. We have two dogs, a Vizsla and just a few weeks ago we acquired my sister-in-law's dog, a yellow lab. I could tell it was the job of the new lab, and sweet as she is, she looked at me as if to say, "I'm sorry. Will you please forgive me?" I learned from that experience to supervise dog feedings when three children think it is a novelty.

Now I'm at the doctor's office at 9:20am and saw a man sneeze into the bend of his elbow, give a curious look at his sleeve afterwards, and I then held my breath as I walked past him. While checking into my department, I glanced back and saw said man walking back to his seat while using a tissue to wipe his sleeve. I learned that I don't like going to the doctor's office.

Well, I know it's not much, but I told you in the beginning, baby steps. At the end of the day I always learn that I love my family more than I did yesterday, and through it all I look forward to what tomorrow will bring and pray for the grace to get through it. Even when the zoom of life gets "ridiculous."