Pandemics and Sunflower Fields

There's nothing I love more than FaceTiming with our Royal Babies.  Seeing their innocent faces and bright smiles is all I need to lift my spirits sky high.  I never know where the conversation will go; the spontaneity of a child is inimitable.  Lately, though, I've noticed a common fork our conversations seem to take.  After catching up with school and being silly, we talk about how much we miss seeing each other.  They say they wish they could come to Denver. And they all say they wish this virus would just go away.  I say meeee toooo.

Because this virus.  It just won't stop.  And it's exhausting trying to stay ahead of it.  I'm doing my part; I'm following our state's guidelines and policies--wearing masks and socially distancing and washing my hands and staying put when possible.  I'm trying not to whine, not to deny, not to blame.  And, I'm just trying to stay sane.

One of my favorite sanity-saving things to do is just go for a simple drive. And so I planned a little half-day outing to my favorite sunflower field.  I set off with my Sonic Coke for refreshment, my phone for my camera, my mom and Sunshine for company, and a summer playlist for background music.  

As we approached the turnoff, I felt an almost-forgotten lightness.  I couldn't wait to see those happy, bright-yellow, flower faces.  Except, when we arrived, I wasn't seeing any yellow.  Anywhere.  Instead, I saw this

My heart sank. I was smack in the middle of Eliot's Waste Land, staring at "fear in a handful of dust." I was driving though Fitzgerald's Valley of Ashes, "where ashes grow like wheat." Nothing occupied this space but brown and gray, dirt and dust, shock and disappointment.

Last year, this field took my breath away:

I had a "that does it" moment right then and there.  I burst into tears. I whined. I blamed. I denied.  I hate this damn virus. How can we be in this situation? Why can't people just stay home or wear masks? We need leaders. I want to go shopping and travel to a beach and happy hour with friends. I MISS MY FAMILY!

Then I took a deep breath, dried my eyes, blew my nose, and turned my car around. I heard my little friend Chloe's voice on that drive home. Look for the good.  Look for the good. And there it was--goodness everywhere.  A sky so blue the ocean must surely be around the corner.  A sun so bright no shadows dared to loom anywhere. My mom so full of concern and love nothing else mattered.

Since that drive, I learned that sunflower fields need to rest every several years, giving them a chance to rejuvenate, replenish their oxygen and nitrogen supplies, hydrate, and rid themselves of pests.

I couldn't see the miracle hiding in that dusty sunflower field. I didn't hear its whispers.   My heart wasn't there.  But I hear it now, letting me in on its secret:

Our world is a tired sunflower field.

A pest has taken over its beauty.

It needs to rejuvenate, rehydrate, replenish

with oxygen and nitrogen

so it can breathe.

It needs to rest,

for a year, for two years.

And then,

refreshed,

it will bloom again.

Can't wait to see these four sisters next year.

Leon Russell in His Own Words: A Book Review

I got this book for my birthday in early November.  I finished it today, almost three months later.  Although I wanted to immediately read it, I found myself putting it off until things slowed down, and I had some uninterrupted time.  The holidays came and went, and still I couldn’t pick it up--not because I had other books I wanted to read or because I had a halfhearted interest in it.  No, I just didn’t want to reach the end.  Did I mention Leon Russell in His Own Words is a mere 119 pages long?  An average reader could easily read it in an hour or so. It took me three weeks once I began.  Because I didn’t want to reach the end, I read a chapter at a time. I then sat back and savored every single word, wanting to read more but still dreading that last page. Those words I lingered over are Leon’s own words, personally typed in a Word document and shared with one of the editors, Steve Todoroff.   

What I love most about this book is that I can hear Leon’s voice as I read. I got to see Leon in concert many times. He always mesmerized us with his music, but in addition, he entertained us with stories, about his music, about his history, about his life.  I looked forward to those stories as much as the music. That voice.  I heard it as I read his words in this book.  He had a somewhat dry sense of humor, and that comes through loud and clear in these pages.  In the chapter “On the Road to Xanadu” he describes the beginning of his foray into drugs (happily, Leon quit drugs and alcohol later in life!) When I read “Somewhere in the darkness of my past and quite contrary to the wishes of Nancy Reagan (who created the ‘Just Say No’ tagline . . .)  I would ‘Just Say Yes.’  In fact, I practically never said no.” I heard Leon’s voice as if he were sitting in the room with me, that deadpan, serious voice making me smile even now. 

More stories like these fill up the pages along with added explanatory notes where needed by the editors.  They’re filled with Leon’s relationships with other musicians.  From Jerry Lee Lewis to Ricky Nelson to Elvis and Sonny and Cher, all the way to The Beatles and Waylon and Willie and Elton John, Leon’s influence reaches far and wide. So much history unfolds in these 119 pages. The last chapter, “Willie and Me,” ends abruptly with Leon’s distaste for California and his decision to move to Nashville in the 80s.   

The only stories we have after that Willie chapter are those he shared verbally with family and friends or with us lucky enough to hear Leon’s voice at one of his shows. His sudden death in 2016 quashed the hope that we would hear more from him. Todoroff and Wooley dedicate Leon Russell in His Own Words to “the LeonLifers.”  I can now say that I have a book dedicated to me. 

p.s. Todoroff and Wooley also include, in the final pages, a list the names of those who donated to the Leon Russell Monument Fund.  I sobbed when I saw my name on page 118.  What a gift. I am forever grateful. 

Why I Write

I had a wonderful English teacher my sophomore year of high school.  Although we didn’t always appreciate it, her expectations for us as writers were sky high—organization, clarity, voice, grammar and syntax needed to be near perfect.  Comma splices, dangling modifiers, and subjects that didn’t agree with their verbs did not amuse Mrs. Petersen.  Her red pen could scare the writing out of many students, but that wasn’t the case with me.  I learned so much from her and fell in love with writing because of the grammar, the usage, the mechanics, and the language.  I aimed for that perfect essay, returned to me with no red whatsoever splashed on the pages. I coveted earning an A from Mrs. Petersen.  When she called me in for a conference at the end of that year to tell me I was a good writer, I almost cried.  I carried those words of encouragement throughout college and my career as an English teacher.  Then and now, I write because of Mrs. Petersen.   

I’ve never forgotten how intimidating writing assignments can be.  The purpose for writing might seem unclear; the directions might lack specificity; the genre might be unfamiliar.  All these uncertainties can discourage students from picking up that pen or opening that laptop.  As a teacher, I recognized the many obstacles facing students when given a new writing assignment.  In order to alleviate anxiety and encourage writing, I wrote along with my students.  Whether doing a writing demo on a smart board or facilitating a small group at a conference table, I let my struggles and triumphs show as I worked through my process.  Most of my students appreciated this approach and to this day send me updates from colleges and careers celebrating how they use writing in their lives.  Nothing makes me happier than knowing they have carried their learning into their adult lives. Then and now, I write because of my students. 

I’ve heard all the excuses in the world to avoid writing—from students and from me as well.  I don’t have time.  I don’t know what to write about.  I’m not good at writing.  Now that I’m retired, most of those excuses are just silly.  I do have a blog, but it’s quite undeveloped.  I post a few articles from time to time, but I’m seldom thrilled with the final product.  Until my retirement, I relied on the old excuses and just let the blog amble along.  Not anymore.  I have time.  I have tons to write about. I can write.  Developing my blog is now my number one goal for this new year, this new decade.  I enjoy writing, and I’m so grateful to finally have time to focus on topics of my choice.   

I still hear Mrs. Petersen’s encouraging words, and so I write for her even now.  I hold tight in my heart those students and as they find their way in their new lives, and I write for them.  And now, finally, I can say I write because of me. 

Year's End, Decade's End: Bring on the Twenties

Why isn't there more fanfare about this decade coming to an end?  I haven't heard that much hype about it.  Am I just missing all the coverage?  I mean, this should be a big deal.  We're getting ready to enter the twenties, after all!  I think about the Roaring Twenties with F. Scott Fitzgerald and The Great Gatsby and flappers and parties and all that pizazz.  Can this new decade, a hundred years later,  possibly bring as much glitz?  We shall see.

Right now, though, I'm sitting here with my mom and my New Year's champagne,  Born in 1928, Mom lived a year and four months during those Roaring Twenties.  Think about that for a minute.  She has witnessed 11 decades ending and beginning!  What an amazing life she has had.  When I ran this by her for confirmation (not a math person here 😃), she said, "I'm old"!  Oh, Mom 💛 I am grateful beyond words to be able to welcome in these twenties with her. 

I find myself, as I always do, thinking about what a great year this has been.  Although not as jammed packed as some years, so many highlights stand out.  Those highlights spark memories from the past decade, and my heart is full thinking about . . .

TRAVELING

My travels didn't take me to the far ends of the world this year, but they did take me to where my heart desires the most.  I got to see Christmas Lake and my sister's family during the spring when the lake was still frozen.  It was gorgeous. 

 I also traveled back to Nebraska three times, to Kearney (oh dear Lord that trip--see below), to Alliance, and to Lincoln.  All three trips are unforgettable, for different reasons.  The Alliance trip was bittersweet.  We sold our family home, and Mom and I went back to help with the final clearing out. 

The Lincoln trip was planned to meet the newest Royal Baby, Violet.  We got to meet her when she was two weeks old, tiny and new. Violet is the 11th Royal Baby joining our family this decade.  In fact, when the decade began in 2010, there were zero Royal Babies!  I can't even imagine what that was like.

And that Kearney trip, that's a story all its own, which brings me to

THAT FLOOD THING

Our Kearney trip to see family ended up being a lesson in faith, strength, and patience--for all of us.  You can read about it here, but going through a flood is no joke.  This trip goes down as the scariest experience of the year.  And decade.  

These travel adventures definitely highlighted my year.  Best trips of the decade have to include my two trips to Maui and San Diego and my first ever trip to New York City!  Unforgettable.

This year has also been highlighted with lots of visitors. Maybe that's why I didn't travel as much.  My house was full of family and friends throughout the year.  Lucy got to come to Denver twice, with her mom in May and with Bean in December.  She was the best early Christmas present ever.  Sister Peg and niece Micki and her kids visited three times this year! They visited in August, in November, and a quick stop on Christmas day on their way to ski.  I love having them here.  Sister Kerri visited twice--on Valentine's Day and in December.  She always has an agenda, whether that means cooking up a storm or working in the yard.  We were able to just relax on her December trip--a nice change of pace.  My friend Ann Lowe visited in the fall.  I hadn't seen her since last decade.  This visit was long overdue and so wonderful.

Other highlights of this year include reveling in nature with sunflowers and roses and trees and mountains and Harvest Moons

and meeting The Pioneer Woman who was gorgeous and adorable.

But nothing could top my meet and greet of the decade--meeting The Boss in 2016 has to be the highlight of all highlights!  He called me darling, in case you don't know, and HE KSSED ME!!

HIGHLIGHT OF THE DECADE!

Still, the #1 highlight of any year is always and forever my family--Mom, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, and the Royal Babies.  I got to see everyone several times this year, and countless times throughout the decade.  I am so grateful.

Not to end on a sad note, but every year has low points.  As hard as those lows are, they're part of the balance in life.  This year I watched my best friend say goodbye to her dad.  Clarence was a wonderful and loving husband, father, grandfather, and friend.  He is missed horribly by Eileen and her mom and the entire Czapla family, the town of Genoa, and me.  

Over the decade, there have been many lows.  Most recent and still heartbreaking  was losing my Jewel.  Almost two years have gone by yet I still feel her presence, still see her face, and still miss her energy, I know she's chasing those elusive rabbits across that rainbow bridge!  💔

Forever Juliet

The ball is almost ready to drop (New York time--that's the best I can do).  As this year and decade come to an end, my glass is full of champagne, my table is full of new books (I can't wait to dive in and read!!) , and my heart is full of love.  

Here's to you and those you love.  May your New Year and New Decade be blessed with good health, good friends, and a loving family.  Nothing can top that.