Tuesday, September 17, 2024

Story, Jo's Notes, Clotheslines

 

I love my clothes dryer.

I don't want to wash clothes by hand, either, so I love my washing machine too.

My electric company caused this machine love by suggesting I dry my clothes on an outside line to save electricity and money.

Really? Let's find electricity that is cheaper and safer for the environment.

I remember, though, the fragrance of fresh sheets dried outside. One summer, between school semesters, Neil and I drove back from Oklahoma to work for our old bosses in McMinnville, OR. There, we rented a little house with an outside clothesline. I washed our clothes that summer in a wringer washing machine and hung them on a line. A year later, I opened a box where I had stored a few bed sheets. They still held the fragrance of outside fresh air.

After that clothesline suggestion, I wondered what I would be willing to return to. Having clothing freeze on the line and taken into the house where they would stand on their own like paper dolls? Please no. (Eventually, those paper doll clothes would puddle on the floor.)

How about running outside to save the dried clothing from a sudden rainstorm?

Nada.

 I see there are advantages of thinking in decades and wondering if I have something to contribute to our present times. And what could we do to slow down climate change or reverse it?

(Is all the present unrest distracting us from thinking about our home—our planet—that it is heating up, (I see the hump-backed whales are suffering from water that is too warm.)

What could we do to slow the process to give us time to perhaps halt it. This distraction threatens our sanity, security, and way of living. Is it taking away our love, ability to cooperate, negotiate, have rational thought, and treat people kindly, especially those who think differently from us?)

Once, we burned our garbage in a large steel drum. My family lived on a farm for a while, and it was during a time when most everything we burned was paper. We didn't even carry home packages in plastic or cardboard, and there were no straws or plastic cups by the gross. If we bought a Sub sandwich at our local Hand Out—(They were great, by the way) it came wrapped in paper.

Our water came from a well, so there is no need to recycle plastic water bottles. 

Occasionally, we threw cans into the incinerator. The fire burnt off the labels and sterilized them, and we swept up the rusted cans after the fire was out and, about once a year, carried them to the dump. Our plastic was built into radios and TV’s—that is things we actually used for years.  

Our school or picnic sandwiches were wrapped in waxed paper—that worked fine.

Our meat, purchased from the butcher, was wrapped in brown waxed paper and tied up with twine. That worked, too. And I remember we rented a freezer in town, and the meat was wrapped in waxed paper. Do they have freezers like swimming pool lockers now?

I could go back to that.

I guess, instead of placing our produce in a plastic bag, we carried it home and put it in the "Freshener." (My husband calls it "the Rotter.”) But then, we had abundant fruit and fresh produce on a farm. Fruit was sold or canned. (Please, no canning. Oh, but I long for my mother's pickled crabapples. When mom had peaches canned at a cannery, that saved her and my hands. I hated washing the jars.).

Eggs were kept in" water glass." (A sodium silicate/water solution.). Preserved eggs will keep up to 18 months. The trouble with that egg preservation is the eggs need to be clean and unwashed. (Eggs have a natural cuticle or "bloom" that seals the shell from bacterial invasion. However, it is easily washed off. The result is that eggs don’t keep as long.)

See, I do like modern conveniences. However, I would be willing to go back to some of these ways. (Yet today, hypocrite that I am, I used plastic bags to bring home produce. But if plastic was not available, and paper bags were I would happily use them.

Our Christmas packages were beautifully wrapped using licked stickers (No cellophane tape until later.)  Mom tied our gifts up gloriously in pretty ribbon. Toys were hidden until Christmas Eve, then placed under the tree.  That worked. It was fun.

I could go back to that.

I could go back to a horse and carriage if my family lived close by, but they live about 29 miles away, which would take a day on horseback or carriage. It takes about 33 minutes by car.

Many families live across the country from each other, so a visit requires flying or a long trip by vehicle.  

Once, I rode my horse Boots from our farm to our best friend's house across the town of The Dalles for the adventure. It was ten or fifteen miles, and I spent the night with her, so it was a two-day trip. I had taken a less-traveled route across town and encountered little traffic. (I used a saddle, that McClellan saddle my dad thought was so great, but it was more pain than pleasure, but it made me look somewhat presentable.) My second mother-type friend took the picture in front of her house with her little dog and me on Boots. She sent it to me years later. It is the only picture I can find of Boots and me.

 

 

The other day, I saw an entire trainload of lumber wrapped in plastic. Is that necessary? As a kid, we regularly saw great flotillas of logs chained in their own corral of logs floating or tug-boated down the Columbia River. Logs are kept wet until they are cut into timber. Keeping them wet reduces bugs, keeps the logs from "checking" (splitting), reduces fungi, and makes them easier to cut. I suppose the plastic wrap comes after they have been kiln-dried. I wonder about the value of that. That seems extravagant while telling us to reduce our use of plastic.

Hay is sometimes wrapped up in plastic. That hay needs to be kept dry, or it will turn to silage. (Never serve those big bales to your horse; they sometimes spoil in the center. Bovines can handle it; horses can't.)

Great pallets of merchandise are wrapped in plastic, and the packaging of foods has become extreme for the ease of preserving, storing, and shelving them.

We tried eliminating plastic bags for carry-outs from the grocery store. Then we debated which harmed the environment less: creating plastic or cutting down trees. Do you have an answer to that?

We do recycle. We save glass. We are trying.

I saw a story about a woman who tried to shop plastic-free for a week. It was a challenge, and she said her meals were boring. Yogurt?—in plastic. Cheese?—in plastic. Meat—in plastic. Even the pasta box had a little plastic window. And why oh why oh do Kleenex boxes have a plastic pull-through space in their cardboard box? Our recycle pickup warns against mixing plastic with paper.

This could give city planners a challenge as many people live in apartments. Some apartment complexes have incorporated parks and playgrounds into their plan, some even with gardening spaces, so we don't all have to live on a farm.

Time for us to give our creativity a workout.

Wouldn't it be fun to do designing for housing units? Consider the possibilities.

I read once that in France (The Land of Milk), they had pastures and milk cows next to villages, and their cows were healthy, lived much longer, and produce milk for more years than American cows.

Let’s eliminate the crowding of cattle into stinking, filthy, disease infested feed lots. Animals do not like to stand in their own dung. If given a chance they will choose a restroom area.

I’ve mentioned this before, but I was so impressed with my two horses who used one side of their 24 x 12 foot run -in barn, that is three sided, and the size of two stalls. They had their hay on one side and used the other side for a bathroom. I cleaned it every morning.


 




 


Monday, September 2, 2024

Good News


This is tricky.

 

A fist-sized frog lives in an environment beneficial for its food supply but tricky for a home. His home is mobile, warm, and swarming with the frog’s favorite food—flies. The downside of this living arrangement is that he might suddenly feel an earthquake—the “land” beneath his feet lunging at a remarkable speed, or suddenly submerging into water. Water? Well,  that’s okay for a frog, but froggy dear, watch out for the mud.

The frog is living on the back of a Water Buffalo.

You know that the presence of frogs is one indicator of a healthy ecosystem. Scientists have found that when Water Buffalos move into abandoned areas, they bring with them, an abundance of frogs, bats, and plant life.

It is estimated that Water Buffalos number more than "200 million across 77 countries on five continents.” (BBC) These animals have long been used as plough animals and treasured for their nutritious milk. (Their milk is higher in protein and fat than that of dairy cattle.) Now, they are earning a reputation among conservationists as handy landscape managers.

For decades, local farmers have allowed their water buffalo to roam freely as they carve channels where fish, frogs, and other species enter. These, in turn, feed the wetlands migrating birds. 


 

P.S. I chose the title The Frog’s Song for my non-fiction book published by Regal House Publishing. The subject isn’t about frogs, although Coqui frogs are in there, but because I read that symbolically, the frog calls the rain that settles the dust for our journey.

The Frog’s Song is a journey.

One day, my family of one husband, one daughter, one seven-month-old grandson, two dogs, and two cats, and this narrator took leave of their senses, put their house up for sale, and moved to a tropical island to live off the grid.

The journey is what life is about. And this was our journey. It left a sweet spot in my heart where our ten incredibly green acres once existed. 

 

To read more about The Frog’s Song, please go to my website: https://thefrogssong.com. (Read about our leaving. It isn’t in the book.)

Better yet, go the Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+Frog%3Bs+Song+by+Joyce+Davis&ref=nb_sb_noss.

I was hoping it was FREE on Kindle Unlimited, it sometimes is. Keep checking. I don’t know why the price varies. It’s like the weather.

 

And now...

 

 


41

 

Why is the Sky Blue?

 

 That question was my test for a potential husband. However, there were other prerequisites.

The man I married could answer my question, but he's a physicist. A young man I dated after high school could not. No disrespect, I couldn't either. This non-knowing about Blue Skies boyfriend, a sweet kid, a farm boy, was fun to be with—we went to movies and bowling, and he fit in well with my folks.

One day, while the boy was visiting, I started my period but found that we had no Kotex. I told Mom, and she told Mike, who volunteered to go to the store for me. Mike invited my boyfriend to go along with him. I was embarrassed to have two men buy Kotex for me, but that's life, right?

This boy left for a while for a job in California. Soon after, I got a call from the florist down the street from the dental office where I worked. I walked in to pick up my gift and found it to be a carload of flowers—so many that I was embarrassed again. It was too bad for the florist and me; we should have celebrated that marvelous event.

Shortly after that, the boy came back into my life from California. This time, he was driving a brand-new Buick, cream-colored and beautiful, half a block long as cars were then. He sat me in the car, pulled out a ring, and asked me to marry him.

I was dumbfounded and squeaked out, "I don't know you well enough to marry you."

To my shock, he cried, and I didn't see him after that.

I watched Oprah interview Jean Houston, where Huston asked Oprah what she wanted. Oprah isn't afraid to put it out there; she wants to make a difference in the world and has. She is fearless in interviewing spiritual teachers, talking about souls, and interviewing prominent people in those fields.

In her effort to ask the hard questions, she doesn't let timidity thwart her forward movement. She gave up her talk show and is now serving the greater good. She isn't afraid to say she follows her inner guidance and attributes it to Jesus. 

I want a piece of that sort of action. 

 

42

Did The Big Bang Bang?

 

I am a seeker, and since you are reading this book, I figure you might be one as well. Although you probably didn't know what you were getting into when you picked up this book—but then, I didn't know what I was getting into when I began writing it.

I've spent hours writing, and if you have read this far, you have spent hours reading it. Thank you for spending your time with me.

 So, I ask, dear one, do you believe in God? Do walk-ins exist? Are near-death experiences real? Do you think the Bible says it all, and that's it? Like the Bible said it, I believe it, that settles it? Are we everlasting souls? Do we reincarnate? Did all souls come into existence with the Big Bang? Was there a Big Bang? 

Did the Big Bang bang when there was no one there to hear it?

Did we always exist? Are there other planets like ours? Is life a common occurrence in the Universe, or is it rare? Are we unique or common? What do other human-like people look like? Have you ever thought we won the genetic lottery by being born, one egg, one sperm, and viola, us? 

Many of those questions are on par with "Prove there is a God." They are theoretical. But we are getting closer to the answers.

 

Wednesday, August 28, 2024

"Me, Me, Me, or You, You, You?"


 

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."-- Attributed to Abraham Lincoln. In reality, Lincoln never uttered or wrote those words or words to that effect. Instead, they were said about him.

The original version of the quotation came on Jan. 16, 1883, during a speech in Washington, D.C., by the prominent writer and orator Robert Ingersoll.

"If you" want to know the difference between an orator and a speaker, read the oration of Lincoln at Gettysburg and then read the speech of Everett at the same place. One came from the heart. The other was born only of the voice. Lincoln's speech will be remembered forever. Everett's no man will read. It was like plucked flowers."

 

From the Democratic National Convention came speeches we haven't heard the likes of in a while. No sound bites, full on speeches, given with conviction, truth, honesty, promises to lower taxes for the middle class, build more houses so the middle class can afford to buy one, preserve Medicare, and Social Security, feed the children, give teachers a living wage, maintain funding for schools, give our children an opportunity to be free of pollution and bullets, overturn Roe vs Wade to provide a reproductive freedom to women, give Americans hope again.

The American Dream raised its beautiful head again when two people from State Schools worked their way up the ranks; one was bussed to school, and the other who grew up on a farm could run for President and Vice President of the United States.

Remember when the strength of America lie in its strong middle class?

Yes, we had problems in the 60's, but we had the guts to protest wars, and march for civil rights, to change the dress code in schools--and champion men to grow facial hair.

Professor Robert Reich, former Secretary of Labor, now on Substack, helped me understand how Americans could vote for a tyrant.

Trump exploited their anger.

Americans, especially the working class, have been bullied.  They have been bullied by corporate executives, Wall Street, and upper-class urban professionals.

They're angry.

In Trump, they saw someone who they thought was different.

Except that Trump is a bully.

Trump used his wealth to gain power. He used his power to target people of color, harass and abuse women, lie, violate the law, and attempt to topple our Constitution. Instead of being a leader for the people, he became an advocate for himself. He was and still is vindictive against anyone who opposes him. And then he rages at anyone who calls him a bully. And he admires Hannibal Lector! What?! (Lector is fictitious character from the movie Silence of the Lambs, who eats people.)

Trump is a "me, me, me, person.

Kamala Harris said every day in court, she would say 5 words, "Kamala Harris for the People."

"Because," she says, "what happens to one of us happens to all."

"Kamala Harris is a You, you, you person." (Thanks, Bill Clinton.)

 

From Reich:

"We have learned that Trump cannot be beaten at his own game. He cannot be out-threatened. He cannot be shouted down. He is beyond shame or guilt. He emits lies at such volume and repetition they cannot be corrected.

"The only way to beat him is by playing an entirely different game that draws on qualities that are the opposite of his, that appeals to those aspects of the American character diametrically opposed to his.

"Lincoln spoke of the better angels of our nature. Those better angels are still there but have lain dormant since 2016. Biden tried reviving them, but he didn't have the energy or stamina to pull it off. Kamala Harris and Tim Walz do."

 

And why don't our adversaries trust women?




Women, we need to roar now to convince Americans to vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz.

Listen to Lady Gaga go against Trump. She  put it out there. (Trump lied with an ad stating that Gaga supported him.)

https://www.nbcnews.com/video/lady-gaga-slams-trump-at-biden-rally-in-pittsburgh-95211077945

"Vote to keep Trump out of the White House like your life depends on it, no, like your children's lives depend on it, because it does."—Lady Gaga.

And then listen to that Lady sing our National Anthem. Wow, those pipes of hers rang out over the U.S. Capitol and the Washington Memorial with the clarity of an angel.  

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/watch-lady-gaga-sings-the-star-spangled-banner-at-biden-inauguration

 


Sunday, August 4, 2024

The Good in Us. You Deserve to Thrive.

The Good in Us. We Deserve to Thrive.

Remember that song I Believe? It begins: “For every drop of rain…” We can’t print many words from song lyrics, so I trust you’ll remember that song. Hint, “a flower grows.”

It’s hard to maintain a positive attitude, isn’t it?

First on my list right now is this: "Keep the White House free of dictators living there."


Think of it this way:

The Republican Presidential Candidate got his trial sentencing delayed until after the election. If he wins, he will have Presidential immunity. When his term of office is over he will be up for grabs again regarding sentencing. Do you think he would let that happen? There are words in the wind say he wants to be President FOR LIFE. (And according to the Rolling Stone Magazine, he has his people at strategic positions in the swing states. Hum. What do you suppose that means?)

That's a dictator folks!

I don’t care where you are on the abortion issue (Well, I do care, but I’m keeping my mouth shut). Vote for Kamala Harris to keep a dictator out of the white house, then address the abortion issue.

Do you think a woman has a right to her own body, or should the government decide?

Do you like the way the Supreme Court is set up?

Do you think the US ought to send any military equipment into wars outside the US? Remember the Vietnam War? Great protest movements helped grind that to a halt.

Remember the Iraq war? We ended that after 20 years.

Do you believe that we should support our NATO allies?

Do you think it’s OK to insult people who do not have children?

Do you think it’s OK to insult people who have a different Faith than yours?

What happened to the separation of church and state? Is it all right with you to let that go?

Should we argue over climate change or work together to see that everything within our powers is done TO KEEP THE EARTH INHABITABLE TO HUMANS?

Do you think the ones with the money ought to run our country or that people without children should NOT run for office?

Do you think that childless people don’t care about the future?

Do you want internment camps?

Do you think it’s OK for a man who is running for President to say that women are fat and ugly—but he wants their vote?

Do you think it’s alright for a man who is running for President to believe it’s his right to grab the women he considers pretty by their private parts?

Remember the Divine Right of Kings?

Do you think it’s OK to place a man in the white house who wants to abolish our two-term Presidential system? What about the ones who come after him? That edict would still be in place.  Our Republican Candidate won’t live forever—unless he knows something we don’t know.

Do you think our Republican Presidential candidate is a Messiah? (I’ve heard of a more loving one.)

Are we OK with our country being run by corporations and that the rich can run the show, or that one man can throw millions into a Presidential campaign to help determine the it's outcome?

Is money speaking for us?

Do you believe that we the people have a voice?

Keep the Present Republican Candidate out of the White House and then address those concerns individually.

We can do it.

This Candidate must win by a landslide, or he will never believe he lost.

If you can’t stand Kamala Harris, grit your teeth and vote for her anyway. WE DO NOT WANT A DICTATOR IN THE WHITE HOUSE.

We are good people. We deserve to thrive.

Do we remember that we have the power to make changes, advance civilization, and get along with each other?

I think so.

"Never doubt that a group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, its the only thing that every has."--Margaret Mead

WE CAN DO IT--PEACEFULLY.

 

"My wife's cat," says one reader.

 

 

And now dear ones, from an earlier time when the living was easier and the air was fresher, the sun brighter, and the heart lighter—like 14 years ago. It’s an excerpt from my book.

Thank you for reading so far. I love all my readers.

 It’s strange, I am getting a good number of hits on this site, however most are from out of the U.S. I guess they don’t like me so well here in my homeland. It must have been something I said.

  

 


 34

 On the Road

 When Daughter Dear was on maternity leave and her son was two months old, we set out for an eight-state road trip.

We rented a van and loaded Bear into the back and Peaches in the front. The baby had the seat behind us, and thus we took off—limited only by the needs of a two-month-old. It was the best vacation of my life—to do what we wanted, when we wanted, and stop when we felt like it. 

I had heart palpitations after going up and down a Colorado mountain too fast, coupled with an area in New Mexico that held both a mental institution and a Prison. Both DD and I felt odd, and my chest hurt all night. Don't ask me to explain it; it seemed like something was in the air, something negative. A person at our hotel told us that area wasn’t good.

Both DD and I felt similar negativity in some areas of Hawaii, one of the reasons we wanted to leave. No heart palpitations there, though. I don't tend to get too woo-woo, but when woo-woo strikes, I pay attention.

Clearly, I have an altitude problem. That trip up and down the mountain showed me. Altitude, not attitude. Well, that, too.

 A young woman Neil knew from Nikon Inc. told me that if I had walked that mountain instead of driving it, I wouldn't have had a problem. 

That woman, a slight person who looked like a runner, climbed Mt Everest to the base Camp. Yes, she did. I was astounded. She said, "You climb high and sleep low." You climb higher than where you plan to sleep and then return to your campsite. That will help acclimate you to the altitude. 

While driving in Santa Fe, New Mexico, I declared, "I want to find one of those pottery shops…”

“Like that one?” DD pointed.

Directly beside us was the best pottery shop I had ever seen. It had rows of pottery, beautiful glazes and designs, dishes, pots, wall hangings, and those chocolate tiles Nina bought, carried to Hawaii, and left as the countertop of a bar in her Hawaiian Tiki Room.  


Coming home from that trip, we found ourselves 100 miles from Disneyland, DD's favorite place on the planet. Being that close, we had to go. We found a hotel with a shaded parking lot, and as we had a large van, we left the windows slightly ajar for the dogs, walked a couple of blocks to Disneyland, and partied hardy. At night the dogs came into the room with us.

After that Colorado Mountain High, I breathed a sigh of relief upon entering Disneyland, where I noticed a sign at the train station stating the elevation. I thought it said one foot. But when I checked the Internet to verify the elevation, a sign on the train station read 138 feet. Either way, I was comfortable.

 Little Boy Darling's first visit to Disneyland, at two-months old, was fun, and he liked the submarine ride where he watched fishes swimming past the port hole window.

We skipped all scary rides.

Once, for the heck of it, way before our grandson was a glint in anyone's eye, and after reading that the Cavalia Horse Show featuring exquisite white horses, a Cirque du Soleil sort of event, was being performed in Dallas, Texas, DD, and I flew there. A pond appeared in the sand on the floor of their mammoth white tent. After their horses had raced through it, splattering water and clearly getting wet, the water disappeared beneath the sand.  

Witnessing the love expressed between the horses and the trainer was worth the ticket price, and the girl who came racing into the arena at breakneck speed riding two horses, Roman style, almost had me on the floor.

After we had accrued numerous frequent-flyer miles and often asked to be bumped from a flight on purpose so we could earn more, DD and I used them to go as far as we could. That was to Niagara Falls, where a humongous amount of water separates the US and Canada.

We took the Maid of the Mist boat into the tumultuous mist on the American side. At that time, we didn't need a passport to cross the border, so we drove to Canada across the river to see the Niagara River fall from a different country.  On the Canadian side, we ate the best chocolate-covered pretzels at the Hersey factory and, by chance, saw that Madonna was performing that night at the Ontario Sports Arena. 

We had to attend that concert.

Our tickets were in the nosebleed section behind a column. From our perspective, we could see Madonna rise from beneath the stage. On giant TVs, we watched that woman sing while doing a handstand, and nary a muscle quivered from the strain of it.

Our seat companion, a young, enthusiastic fellow, had flown from Texas especially to see Madonna's performance, so the three of us were flying high. 

We fell in love with Canada—the people and their attitude. They gently suggest wearing seat belts: "Be protected, not projected." They also have "Traffic calming zones" in the city where drivers can pull over and calm down. Some ads alongside the road presented exquisite lawn plantings with the vendor's name spelled out in flowers. 

It was strange driving up to the falls; we traveled over the flat country following the Niagara River until, WHAP, an abyss. I had expected to hear a roar before arriving but only heard it when we were practically upon it. A good thing a native, not knowing the falls were there, didn't come along riding his horse at breakneck speed. 

But then the horse would have heard it.

💕 

 

       joshappytrails@gmail.com (copy and paste)

A long time ago we used to drink champagne and eat Oreo cookies in the hot tub. I wish we could do it again. (And with you.)