Sneaking Around

On Wednesdays, since I work from home, I usually do a mtn bike ride at lunch over on the other side of the mountain.
Lately I've noticed some familiar faces out there doing various things. Sadly none of the familiar faces are riding single speeds or even bikes for that matter. Most of them are out there just running. But they're running at a pretty good clip and they're out there and they're training.
As I ride up behind them or as we are heading towards each other, we stare with a look of uncertainty until we realize that we know each other or that we've seen each other around somewhere.
Aha! I always say to them, if it's our first meeting. And we each call out the other's name or say something like hi "lulu's mom" and laugh as we pass by.
They are the mom's of kids who go to my kid's school.
Sometimes they'll point at me in an accusatory way like they've just discovered me cheating on someone.
And in a sense we are - all of us, sneaking away from our daily lives of work and kids and husbands and laundry and friends - just for an hour or two in the middle of the day. A break to be by ourselves, out there where we can breath deeply and freely and do what we love so much and feel good about it.

After a few more encounters we all settle in to the "nod" of knowing. Yes, I know you. You know me. We're both out here. It's good to see you again.
And at school, we all see each other. We stop to talk. We talk about why we're out there. What we're training for. What our favorite discipline is. How often we're out there, where we work. How we make the time, to sneak off.
It's nice. It's ours.
It's not about anyone else, but us.
It's about us and what we're doing.
Not about what our kids are doing or what our husband's are doing - those are nice things to talk about too, but not all of the time. Sometimes it's nice to talk about what you love to do on your own. The thing that defines you as a person. The thing that keeps you going as an individual so that you can have the energy and strength to do the other things.
And we like it that way. We like sneaking around in the middle of the day or before work or after dinner. And at school if we don't have time to stop and talk, we always nod and say have a good run today, or ride hard today - see you at the PTA meeting later tonight.

Aw, Nuts

Late on Monday afternoon I noticed that the passionvine that had been budded for Blooming Day had opened. I went back inside for about 20 minutes, then brought the camera out. As I turned the corner to walk toward the Passionflowers, something felt odd - where had those pecans on the fence come from? They hadn't been there 20 minutes ago!


I looked up to see a bend in one of the largest boughs - this year's rain has produced an unprecedented crop of nuts and the weight was apparently too much for the tree's structure. An enormous amount of branches and leaves were resting on the fence, tangled up in nearby shrubs, and in crepemyrtles and some young Arizona Ash trees on the other side of the fence. I called Philo out to look at what happened, and we tried to decide what to do. This job might well be too big for us to handle, but we also knew it was best to get the weight off the other trees and shrubs as quickly as possible.

We got out the loppers and pole pruner, thinking that if we cut away some of it, we could at least see what we'd be dealing with. As you all know, once a pruning job is started, with one small cut following another, it's almost impossible to stop. Pretty soon we had the ladder out, along with ropes, the chain saw, brown yard bags and twine for tying up brush.


Philo did the heaviest lifting and sawing, while I held onto ropes and hauled the boughs out to the center of the yard. He somehow hauled that enormous branch up over the top of the fence and away.

An hour later the shrubs were freed, battered but mostly intact, the crepe myrtles looked okay, and the flexible Arizona Ash tree was already straightening out. The fence is old and beat up already, so a few more nicks in the top are barely noticible.

We were impressed with the pile of debris, and set to reducing it, bundling up branches cut to the regulation 4 feet, with smaller stuff clipped so it would fit in bags. There were a few pieces that could be firewood, but pecans grow with many, many dense shorter branches. By 8 o'clock we were tired and hungry, and it was getting too dark to work safely. We thought we'd done pretty well for two people who get senior discounts at the movies - this was all that was left to be done the next the morning.

We're still wondering whether we'll ever get any edible nuts from these trees - whatever pecans were not eaten by squirrels each fall have been either hollow or wormy. Unfortunately the branch broke before the nuts were mature - the husks were still green and tight. And we've still got to saw that broken part smooth.

Aw, nuts.

Finally, Some Clouds

Finally, Some Clouds, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Clouds are a rarity for most of California during the summer. The climate just doesn't allow them to form...
...which is why I was excited to see a few cirrus cloud catching the light of the sunset the other day. The sky was beautiful, with much more color than usual. To all you Midwesterners and East Coasters, us Californians envy your clouds!

Thoughts in Solitude

I'm back! I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post. Lots of things have happened since then, but I'll save them for another day.
Today I wanted to share a quote from Thomas Merton from his book Thoughts in Solitude. He says, "If you want to have a spiritual life you must unify your life. A life is either all spiritual or not spiritual at all. No man can serve two masters. Your life is shaped by the end you live for. You are made in the image of what you desire."
I've been thinking a lot lately about the reasons why I do what I do. Why do I want to pursue photography? Why would I want a website showcasing my art? Why am I so weepy about Garrett leaving? God has really been shining a spotlight on my heart motives. I'm finding that motives have all kinds of things wrapped around them. It's like peeling an artichoke to find the center. The difference between my heart motives and an artichoke is that the artichoke is just an artichoke. You know what you'll find when you pull away the leaves. The leaves are pretty much all the same. Simple.
The heart though is wrapped up with pride, sin, lust, self-serving, anger, envy, etc. Thankfully, God peels back these wretched layers gently and slowly. Who could stand it otherwise? Our sin would overwhelm us.
I've gotten frustrated in the past about not being able to figure out my sense of unease over the art I try to produce. Other people seem to just be able to turn out piece after piece with nary an angstful thought. God's definitely trying to teach me something.
So I try to do those things I KNOW he's called me to do; take care of my home, love my husband and children, teach Darcie, be with my grandchildren, encourage my friends, be kind and patient to all, feed the hungry, etc. Then if there's any time left over, I try to do art. It's important but not as essential as the above listed things.
Lord, help me to be content with what you've called me to do. Forgive me when I envy others who seem to produce so effortlessly. Help my eyes focus on you, and if it be your will, provide me with opportunities to make beauty. May my motives be pure and my heart desire only what brings glory to You. Amen

Green

The sun badly messed up the above shot, but it took a lot of work to get there. Yesterday was one of those ultra-humid days that only happen in Queensland. It was a day in which you could cut the air with a knife if you could only find one sharp enough, a day on which breathing felt like swimming underwater. Some might scoff at the wisdom of cycling 238km on such a day, but since I was going to feel the same regardless, I decided I'd ride anyway.

I started off heading south, but taking detours, firstly along the Tweed River, followed by the Tweed Hinterland. This area really is very scenic, and a place I never get tired of riding. On the other hand, I probably didn't really need to accumulate over 1,000 metres of climbing by the time I reached Mullumbimby.

This was where the ride really started. A steep climb out of Mullumbimby led to another world that I hadn't realised existed previously. A world of rushing creeks flowing through forests, of mountains covered in a green carpet. It might have been stinking hot, but the surroundings compensated.

I also found a little cafe tucked away in the hills. For such an obscure place, the food was surprisingly good, and surprisingly filling. It's not often I order a meal I can't finish. In fact, the only time that's happened since childhood was a particularly bad Greek restaurant in Brisbane's Fortitude Valley (even then I ended up ordering a Pizza from somewhere else instead). This, on the other hand, was a genuinely good feed. I would need it going home.

Once I returned to Mullumbimby I realised I was going to get blasted by the northerly wind that made it so hot and humid in the first place. I took a hilly route home through Burringbar, Urliup and Bilambil (finishing the day with over 2,500 metres of climbing). That offered some protection, but for the most part it was just a case of trying to be the immovable object in the face of the unstoppable force. Stalemate.
Fortunately for me, I'm sufficiently boring to find Stalemate to be a remarkably invigorating concept, one that can keep me amused for hours. This is probably just as well, because my physical fitness isn't really what it should be right now, and it really DID take hours.
In that respect, I'm glad to have this ride behind me with the ASH Dash now just a week away. On the other hand, it's unlikely to be anywhere near as hot and/or humid as this in Hobart. I'll look for a bit more climbing through the week to finish off the preparation.

Off to the Smokies …

This year, the Phaeton is going to take us to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (GSMNP) for our spring motorhome vacation.

The only other time we were in the Smokies was in 1994.  It was a very fast 5-day trip that took us from Virginia to Tennessee and North Carolina.  From Gatlinburg to Asheville, we covered a lot during that trip — a day-drive through the Smokies; a tour of the Biltmore Estate; a hike to the top of Chimney Rock where scenes for The Last of the Mohicans (the Daniel Day-Lewis movie) were filmed; and a no-stops-along-the-way drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway on the way back home.

Clockwise from Top Left: Cable Mill in Cades Cove; Biltmore Estate, Asheville;
Chimney Rock Skyline Trail (can you find me in the Opera Box?); scenic overlook, GSMNP;
Chimney Rock (see if you can find Mui).

Our April trip to the Smokies will not be a whirlwind of activities.  Sure, we’ll go out and explore quite a bit, but we’ll do so in-depth and cover fewer places — the way we really like to do things.

We’re booked into the Tremont Outdoor Resort for the duration of our vacation; that’s in Townsend, TN — billed as the gateway to the ‘quiet side’ of the GSMNP.  Though we might consider a day-trip or two to Gatlinburg and other towns, our intent is to spend most of our time in the park itself.  Nope, not going to Dollywood!

So, why this post?  Well, we’re looking for ideas from all you RVers out there who’ve been to the Smokies.  What are your favorite hikes — especially those with entertainment (scenery) along the way or a reward (scenery) at the end?  What are the secret, not-to-be-missed spots in and outside the park?

Get those ideas rolling as we roll down I-81 tomorrow!

Spring Break

It was warm! It was dry! Very unusual for our winter this year. I was afraid we'd missed the bluebells coming up, since last year by this time they'd been budding for at least a week.
There was no sign of bluebells at all, though; not a single leaf was sprouting. It's been cold. Unceasingly, mind-numbingly, give-no-quarter cold.

We did find a few little decumbent trilliums poking up (Trillium decumbens).

There were very few of them. These individuals were on one of the warmer, sunnier slopes. I thought I heard one of them sqeak, "First!"

A single budding Toothwort was nearby.

I was sure we'd find a few Hepatica blooming, but we had to be satisfied with their lovely leaves.

We grilled some salmon, took a nap, went on this little hike, then lounged in the sun. It was nearly 70°F (21°C). It's been so cold and wet and dreary lately. It was wonderful to have a break from all that, even if it was just for one weekend.
We cleaned up in the garden a little, pulling dry vines off their supports. This had been maddening, gloppy work when they were wet. We didn't even care that we were probably popping off dozens of morning glory seeds straight into the garden soil. There are hundreds of them there already. No, probably more like thousands. They were in this dirt when it was brought in. Every spring, we pluck the sprouts with zeal, but by summer's end the morning glories have always won the battle. But on a weekend like this, we just didn't care.