Ever feel like you're tied up in knots

Charlecote Park: Warwick CV35 9ER, UK

The library had a spring book display with the whimsical name of: The Cover Was Green, and from it I chose Geoff Nicholson's A Knot Garden.(By the way this link does not show the cover of the paperback edition that I got at the library.) This is a mystery story centering on the death of Richard Wisden a garden designer and minor TV celebrity. The biggest challenge in reading this story was that ever changing first person narration. A collection of characters who each tell their stories all interconnect to form the "knot" of the plot. Imagine a time when you have tried to pull apart a tangled necklace chain or wayward ball of yarn and just when you think you have got the right part to pull and unravel the whole mess you discover that you seem further from the solution than when you started. No spoilers here except to say that by the end all is revealed.

Knot garden as viewed
from the dining room.

I had the opportunity to visit in Warwickshire county at the end of April and visited the National Trust property of Charlecote Park. There in the rear of the property on the edge of the river Avon was a beautiful knot garden as pictured here glimpsed out of the dining room window. The grounds were lovely and everything was blooming. A far cry from the slow start to spring back home in New England.

Primroses in a container garden
lining the entryway. 

Thatched cottage outbuilding.

I'm feeling a little sheepish today

I've read memoirs written by women who have raised cows, chickens, children, vegetables, fruits, and lots of flowers so why not add sheep to the mix. Catherine Friend's sheepish: Two women, Fifty sheep & Enough Wool to Save the Planet was a can't put down read for me. Friend mixes lots of information about this animal, its history, its role in the environment, its role in businesses and products, and its role in her life. She hadn't meant to be a farmer but for the love of her partner she consented to running a farm and vineyard in Minnesota.

The challenges that these women face are various: weather, finding help during the busy shearing or lambing seasons, the chores, their health, and their relationship. For me I was fascinated with the idea that she was reevaluating her life as we all do during middle age. What was her passion? Part of it was her writing. She admitted that farming wasn't what she expected and not her passion but her partner's. She fantasized of selling up the farm, buying an RV and taking to the road. I had that fantasy once, then we rented an RV for a week's summer vacation and that cured me.

Friend wrote about fiber fanatics and how uncomfortable they made her. Yet as the book unfolds, she is slowly drawn into the world of fleece, yarn, dyeing, spinning, weaving, and even knitting. She reconnects with the sheep and the farm through a new appreciation for the way in which her sheep's wool can bring her into a colorful world. I can appreciate that myself as I am drawn to fabric for quilting, yarn for knitting (both of these things I've done in the past but not so much lately) and my all time favorite hobby - cross stitch. I love to see the patterns of color develop on what was once a blank canvas, almost like a photograph slowly developing.

I hate to admit I'm reaching middle age, but it is true. Even menopause is looming on the horizon. I'm grateful to Friend and her honest sharing of her struggles with "the change," with a long term relationship, and with trying to figure out what you want to do next with your life. As she wrote there may not be an answer in the latest self-help book or memoir but sometimes you can be inspired to keep going knowing that others are in the same place that you are.

The Ghost Map

It may seem strange to include Steven Johnson's The Ghost Map as one of my titles in this blog, but it has made me seriously think about how we live upon our planet. Johnson retells the story of how Dr. John Snow and Rev. Henry Whitehead teamed up to unraveled the mystery of the 1854 cholera outbreak in London. The struggles that science had to prove itself in that day and age when the intelligentsia and even the scientists couldn't expand their thinking to encompass the possibility of disease causing agents which were invisible to the naked eye are well documented. Today because of our technology we are aware of bacteria, with the electron microscope we see into the structure of viruses, and with ever improvements we are now visualizing atoms. Changing the way people see their world was the biggest challenge that Snow and Whitehead had to face.

Having grown up in the suburbs I can only imagine life in one. After marrying my husband, we settled into a community thirty miles or so outside of Boston in what some would call "the woods." We love it, and I can imagine living anywhere else especially not the city. I went to college in Worcester and as New England's second largest city, I didn't feel it to be all that big, not like Boston. With my son heading off to college, and most likely one in Boston, I will have to change my country mouse ways.

Johnson's book, especially the last chapter made me rethink cities. Over the past two weeks, my ecology class has been studying human population and its growth. We've discussed the pressures that an ever growing population has on its immediate environment and the planet as a whole. Johnson makes an excellent argument for urban living. The footprint of the high numbers of urban dwellers is in fact smaller than us suburbanites. With more and more of us moving to urban areas will this in fact be a way to be better to our planet? I hadn't thought so, but it comes with the caveat that we will have to provide an infrastructure to protect the public health such as London did all those years ago by finally building a sewer system that removed animal and human waste and protected the purity of the public drinking water supply.

In the end this book has changed my life as it has caused me to rethink how I live and how I teach. I'm not just ready to sell my house and move to the city, but I will respect that cities have an important role to play in helping to "green" our planet.

The Sound of Butterflies

Cecropia moth

Thankfully November is over and with it my second successful year with NaNoWriMo. I spent much of my free time writing my 50,000 words which somehow assembled itself into a novel. A very rough one at that by as Anne Lamott writes in her book on writing and life, Bird by bird, you've got to write a sh@#%y first draft before you can get to the polished one. Where this nascent novel will go is anybody's guess at this point.

All writers know that in order to write better you must be an avid reader. Even though I might have spent hours jotting notes down on paper or sitting in front of the computer typing, I could not quite give up reading. As long as there is breath in me I will be reading. To that end I read Rachel King's The Sound of Butterflies during the month. I enjoyed the book for its description of a naturalist's life pursuing his passion, in this case in the form of lepidoptery, in the Amazon at the turn of the 20th Century. In the jungle this amateur naturalist learns about science, the brutality of nature within the jungle, and the dangerous behavior of man.

The photo above depicts a Cecropia moth which had been found one early morning last June outside the school building in which I work. One of my colleagues brought it into the classroom and our students were fascinated by it. As the day progressed, the moth must have warmed and once we took it out of the container in which we had it in, it slowly began to beat its wings and eventually took flight. It was drawn to the window which we opened in order to let it back outdoors. For a short time we were able to enjoy its beauty. Now on a cold December day, looking at this photo I am reminded of that warm spring day and look forward to the Winter Solstice knowing that the days will eventually begin to have longer periods of sunlight and eventually there will be a return of warm temperatures.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween - ceramic pumpkins and my cross-stitch
ornaments.

One of my favorite things to do is to read holiday themed stories around Christmas-time, but I don't usually think to read Halloween stories at this time of the year. However, I couldn't resist re-reading one of my all time favorites, Agatha Christie's Hallowe'en Party featuring Hercule Piorot and Ariadne Oliver.  A murder is committed at a children's party where the victim, one of the girls at the party, is drowned in the bobbing for apples bucket. I never was a fan of bobbing for apples and now I have a really good excuse not to like it.

Isn't romantic?

My wedding cake topper (Llardo),
my grandparents wedding photo,
and Galt Niederhoffer's novel
 

 The Romantics by Galt Niederhoffer, takes the reader off to the Maine coast for the August wedding of Lila and Tom. The happy couple were college sweethearts. Well they became sweethearts only after Tom stopped dating Laura, Lila's roommate. Laura is to be maid-of-honor at the wedding having stayed friends with Lila and Tom. We are then introduced to the rest of their gang of friends who have convened for the wedding. This clique of friends formed when they were all at Yale. Fellow students called the clique The Romantics as a result of their intermingling relationships.



My grandmother as a
flower girl.

To be honest, I really didn't care much for this bunch of people and Niederhoffer makes them out to be very pretentious and superficial. They certainly don't take friendship or marriage very seriously. Overall those of them that made it to the altar are very unhappy and even Tom and Lila don't seem to be well suited for each other. Marriage is depicted as a social status and a rite of passage more than the sacrament that it is meant to be. No one seems to be working hard at their relationships. And those of us who are married know that it is no picnic and requires lots of patience, endurance, compromise, desire, and love.
The story line takes place over a 24-hour time period including the arrival of the wedding party, the rehearsal dinner, the morning of the wedding, and the big moment. I won't spoil the ending. Let's just say I was a little bit surprised by it, and it lived up to the title.

The depiction of the rehearsal dinner got me to remembering my own. I will admit I was nervous, a bride wants everything to go well. When we arrived, the church was cold (married in early November in New England) and my dad was obviously worried about getting the place nice and warm in the morning in plenty of time before the guests arrived. Speaking of arrival, my in-laws were late and I was getting a little panicked and peeved. Once everyone showed up the rehearsal itself went fine. Off to dinner we went.

Now by the time we arrived at the restaurant my stomach was a little queasy. I chalked it up to being hungry as we were running behind and it had been some time since lunch. A little dinner roll and some salad should help I thought. Next thing I know I need to head to the ladies room. It was awful, before I knew it I'm vomiting and feeling miserable and every female guest knows it. I'm embarrassed because they must think it's my nerves and I know it isn't. There is something seriously wrong with me. I don't remember much more of the dinner except that I said good night to my future husband and drove home. Shortly after midnight I stopped vomiting and I knew it was over.

I managed to get a couple hours of sleep. I showered, ate a piece of toast and went to have my hair done. I came home, had another piece of toast, did my makeup and was dressed in time for the photographer's arrival. The wedding went off without a hitch. The reception was fantastic. Stopped in at home for the after party, and made our farewells to the family and took a limo to the airport hotel to spend the night before an early flight to our honeymoon cruise. Now here's the funny part, in the middle of the night I wake up all alone in bed, my new spouse is puking up his guts in the bathroom. "Okay it wasn't your nerves," he says. Of course it wasn't.  It was a fast moving stomach bug and I made sure everyone knew that fact when we got back home. I can happily say that 23 years later it's still a fun story to tell.

Nature Wars IV - last post on this topic

I promise, this is the last post on this topic. It's amazing what a reader can get from one book. Chapter Ten of Jim Sterba's Nature Wars is all about Roadkill. He begins by introducing the reader to Brewster Bartlett whose nickname is Dr. Splat because as a high school teacher looking for a way to use the fledgling Internet and e-mail system to help communicate the findings of a research project, he decided to have his students keep track of the roadkill on the roads around town. Ghoulish you might think but as a high school teacher myself I can appreciate that students especially some of the young guys would think this was a cool project.

I myself heard Bartlett speak at the New Hampshire Environmental Educators spring conference a couple of years ago. As an educator I am amazed to discover how little my students know about the world around them. Very often they are surprised when I tell them about plant life and the food that they eat. "EWWWW, fruit is the ripened ovary of the flower?" "I'm allergic to plant sperm (aka pollen)?"  I get a sense of gratification when they look through the microscope and see the beauty of cells that make up a leaf. Author, Richard Louv, in his book The Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder, makes an argument for reconnecting our children with the natural world. They spend way too much time indoors. The shame of it is, children don't get to play and explore outdoors often. After school care, living in areas that may not be deemed safe, over scheduled lives, and time spent in front of the TV or computer screen keep kids from experiencing nature.

Much of Sterba's book focused on how disconnected we all have become from Nature. We want to protect it and yet we still carry out behaviors that places the environment at risk mostly through our overwhelming consumption of resources. In the Epilogue, he points out that here in America we have an abundance of natural resources many of which we take for granted. From our abundance we wear blinders that prevent us from realizing how much we spend on repairs to damaged cars (deer and other animal strikes), replacing landscaping or crop damage, the cost of cleaning up playing fields and golf courses (geese feces), and the damage from flooding caused by beaver dams. If we were to find ourselves unable to pay for these repairs we certainly would have to change our world view. In fact I try to remind my students that when we talk about environmentalism we must realize we speak from our own cultural experiences and that for other people around the world their concept of nature is much different from our own. We've saved our own forests here in the US but if we purchase products that result in the damage or deforestation of someone else's land then shame on us. It may be time for us all to take a good look at our role in the ecosystem because we are not separate from it, we are part of the biotic factors that make it up and our possessions and lifestyles create many of the harmful abiotic factors that we all have to live with.