On and On

"The road goes ever on and on."
~ J.R.R. Tolkein

"It's your road and yours alone.  Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you."

Those are the quotes for today's bell work.  I asked my students to describe the road they are currently traveling--literally and figuratively.  Who is going with you?  Where are you going?  Where do you wish you were going?  Why?  I'll be interested to see their responses.
During the school year, I'm on a road kind of like many here in Arizona--a straight shot getting you fairly easily from one spot to the others.  When I first moved here, a friend I had known in Boston (a city not known for it's straight, logical roads) sat down with me and described the road system here and said "you'll love driving here.  It's so logical.  You'll always know where you are and where you're going."  Wrong!  I have never been more lost and confused within a mile or so from my house or work than in this state!  You can be driving along on a road and suddenly you will dead end into a neighborhood.  So, logically you'd think you could go left (or right) and then right (or left) and then left (or right) again and find yourself back on your original road.  But no.  You can't get around the neighborhood so easily.  Instead, you'll find yourself lost in a labyrynth of twists and turns that have you going in the complete opposite direction from where you started.  Drives.  Me.  Crazy.

Then there are the mountain roads--north and south of where I live.  I'm not very good at driving on roads I don't know and that do not give me a fair amount of distance views.  Roads that have a lot of twists and turns are slow roads for me because I don't want to miss a curve and lose control.  The first time I drove north to Sedona and beyond took quite a bit longer than I drive it now.  And I didn't offer once to drive the hairpin turns of the White Mountains on our road trip East this summer.  Once I know a road, though, I travel it easier.  And faster.

So much for the literal road I'm on.  Figuratively, I start my day on a winding road that I have no idea where or how it will end.  For some reason, that doesn't unnerve me the way the actual unknown road does.  Perhaps because I've gone into this unknown so many times before.  Coming to Arizona was one such big adventure. But every day has its own journey with its myriad opportunities to wonder about the day's mile posts.  But that's a whole other story.  I'll have to leave that for another day.

Crazy Enough

"The ones who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones that do."  Change the world.  Back in the 80s I thought I could change the world.  One person at a time.  I read Ann Kiemel's books...devoured them...about being just one, but that God and I, we'd change the world.  "You watch.  You wait.  You'll see."  That was my mantra.  I embraced the idea whole-heartedly.  I challenged my friends and my students to join me on my journey through change.  It was exciting and energizing to think about...and to make the effort.  I carried that energy with me through the 90s and loved it all, loved the idea that I could make a difference.  In all my thinking about change in my world, there came changes in me.  As I traveled the world, literally, I began to see things differently.  More globally.  I began to think outside my world...and realized it would take more than just me (and God) to effect some of the changes I saw.  That was a good place to start, but it couldn't stop there.  I would have to encourage others to effect change in their world, too, if we wanted to make a dent at all.

In recent years, I have started each of my classes with a 10-minute writing session.  Initially, it was just free-writing designed to wake their brains up, but for the past few years I've been more focused and intentional with what I want my students to think and write about.  This morning, I paired the above quote with another one about making a difference:  "You can't change it all at once.  It's gonna take multiple people at separate stages of people's lives taking and making a difference.  It's not just gonna take me."  I guess that's where I am now--realizing that where I am attempting to effect change in the lives of the young people around me, I am not in a vacuum.  Many came before and many more will come after.  This could be daunting and/or discouraging, and could possibly cause one to say "why bother then."  But there's also this:  "I can do all things through Christ." I am crazy enough to believe it is indeed possible to change my world after all.

Photos taken in Butterfly Wonderland in Phoenix, Arizona

The Remains of the Day

The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. 

Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it.  

~ The Remains of the Day

Sunset over Mooselookmeguntic Lake, Rangeley, Maine

Twice in the past few days The Remains of the Day has been on some obscure channel, way up the dial from the regulars that I peruse on any given day.  I've watched it both times, although I only caught the end each time.  I read the book when it first came out and loved it--reveled in the beautiful unveiling of character, the slow, deep contemplation of life.  Looking back on it, though, I don't think I really understood what Ishaguru was trying to say.  1989 was a long time ago.  A few lifetimes ago really.  Then, I had all the energy and ambition of a thirty-something single woman, devoted to her work and her family.  Most of my life was very focused on one geographic location.  I had no idea then how my life and my horizons would expand on almost every level within the next few years:

• 1991--quit my job, go back to school at UNH to work on my PhD, join NEYE (orchestra), begin to travel the world (China-Thailand-Singapore tour)
• 1992--move to Brunswick, Maine to be Kaitie and Christopher's nanny, continue to travel the world with NEYE (Egypt, South Africa, Jordan, Israel), play in Carnegie Hall numerous times
• 1993--move to Boston, take job at GBA
• 1996--continue world travels to England and Russia, begin work as recruiter/fundraiser
• 1998--go to Russia again
• 1999--take spontaneous long weekend trip to Paris
• 2002--take a Western Caribbean cruise
• 2004--take writing course in Aix-en-Provence
• 2005--explore Norway with family, become principal of GBA, take seniors to Peru on a mission trip
• 2010--move to Phoenix to "just" teach
• 2012--go to the Grand Canyon for the first of several times, take on administrative responsibilities at TAA
• 2013--go to Zambia for mission trip, take a cross-country road trip

Sunset outside my back patio

Now, today, I hardly know what it is like to come home at the end of the day and put my feet up.  That is until a couple of days ago when I purchased a rocker/recliner and was literally able to put my feet up at the end of the day.  It was an extraordinarily indulgent feeling, one I've not been familiar with, one I could grow accustomed to. Except that would mean my work is actually done at the end of a day...when in reality, it seems as if it's never done.  Even now, as I sit here writing this, there are so many other things I should be doing--including work.  And the question comes, can I really afford to indulge in what remains of the day?

Sunset over the South Rim of the Grand Canyon

One of my academy schoolmates passed away this morning.  I remember her as a quiet, gentle soul.  One who was so kind and soft-spoken.  It had been many years since I had seen her when I got a call from her a year or so after I moved to Phoenix.  Turns out her mother lived very near where I was teaching and she was here, visiting her.  We met at a school program and enjoyed some conversation.  We said we'd have to get together more often now that we were in the same area again.  I never saw her after that.  Life got busy for me and she got cancer.   And now she's gone.  The lights have gone down for her,  her work is done, and she has put up her feet and is resting.  I, on the other hand, have daylight remaining.  I am determined to make the most of it before I, too, put my feet up and enjoy the evening.

The Way Life Should Be

My road trip continued north after a brief respit with a friend in Laurel, Maryland (briefer than expected as I thought my plane left at 5 p.m. and instead it left at 6 a.m!).  After a quick plane trip that would have taken another 8 hours to drive, I landed in Boston and spent a few hours with my sister before she drove me north to our parents' home in Maine where I will remain for several weeks.

The slogan for this lovely far-northeastern state currently states that Maine is "Worth a Visit, Worth a Lifetime."  I prefer the older slogan that used to greet us when we crossed the border on route 95 from New Hampshire into Maine:  "The Way Life Should Be."  My blogging plan is to share the many reasons I agree with this slogan.  I'll start with my parents' back yard.  It is as beautiful as ever:

End of the Road Trip

We only had about 3 more hours to drive to get to where Linda and I parted ways.  My friend Lou Anne picked me up in White Oaks, MD and I went to spend the rest of the day and night with her.  Linda went on to the Eastern Shore to meet her husband.  Before the sun set, she had finished and defended her Master's Degree in Nursing!  Congratulations to her!

Our drive from Staunton north was rainy.  There is a tropical storm lurking around, bringing about the deluge.  It wasn't too heavy to drive in but it is affecting the entire east coast so that even today (a day later) it is still rainy and cool--in Boston, where I have since traveled.  My time in Maryland was brief.  I discovered that my plane left at 6 a.m. rather than 5 p.m., cutting my visit short by nearly 12 hours.  Still, I was glad for the time I did have.

Now, I have already covered (via plane) more territory in 1 hour as it took us to drive our first day.   I'll not complain, though.  There is no substitute for a good road trip.  This one certainly was!

Oh Shenandoah . . . I'm bound Away

This is actually the Tennessee River, flooded, but
I thought it worked with the lyrics of the
song :)

Oh Shenandoah, I hear you calling,

Hi-Ho, You rolling river.

Oh Shenandoah, I long to hear you, 
Hi-Ho, I'm bound Away.

~ Traditional American Folk Song, early 19th Century

Linda and I have been learning oh, so much on this trip!  Anytime we see something along the way and don't know about it, I look it up on my trusty iPhone and regale her with what is probably an overload of information.  We feel so smart when we're done, though!!!  So no, to answer anyone's question about whether or not we are bored, no.  Besides that, we have well over 100 years of stories between us to share, so it will be awhile before we run out of things to say.  And, we have made four more days of good stories to share . . .

This was in the bathroom at the
Whistle Stop Cafe where we
had lunch.  Except for the "brain's" part
(should be "brains") this
describes our trip so far :)

Today, we mostly just drove.  It was our second day of rainy weather, so stops were not as inviting.  Plus, we needed to cover ground.  Which we did.  More than 700 miles of ground.  Most of Tennessee and quite a bit of Virginia.  We will get to where we are going sometime tomorrow morning.  When we arrive depends on we leave (duh).  The hotel people have warned us that there is quite a bit of traffic between here (Staunton, VA) and D.C. so we are thinking about what to do about leaving.  We don't want to venture forth only to sit in traffic.  We will decide in the morning.

One of the things that has amused us no end is the odd names to places along the way.  I've been keeping a list of the more preposterous SMH ones (shaking my head): Bucksnort, TN (a town), Pigtail Creek, Mouse tail Camp, Magazine Mountain, Frozen Head State Park (yes!), Cross-eyed Cricket Campground, Hungry Mother State Park, Route 666/Hog Back Road, Scrooges Restaurant, among others.  We thought "Frozen Head" might have an interesting story, but it only referred to the snowy mountain top near the park.  Kind of disappointing.  I did find an account of 18 frozen heads that were discovered in a container at an airport, though.  And something about the Ted Williams cryogenics controversy.

We've been collecting interesting road signs.
This one warns motorcycle riders of
grooved pavement.

Our room is at the back of the hotel, next to railroad tracks.  Linda had to sign a waiver about the noise of the "unscheduled trains" saying we understood there were no refunds for the possibly noisy room.  We didn't know what that could mean, but have just experienced the first train...and it is noisy and does shake the room a bit.  We are hoping to sleep through the next one :)

Yet another series of favorite pictures from the day:

It was extremely foggy in the mountains much of
the day.

The VW van in front of the Whistle
Stop Cafe (our place for lunch in the
town of Baxter, TN)

We saw at least four of these giant crosses
in front of churches in both TN and VA.  They
were all the same--huge and overpowering.

There are quite a few similar museums
along the way in TN and VA.  Too bad
we had no time for them today.

My favorite road-side photo.

Seventh-day Adventist Church in VA (don't recall
what city).  This is the 4th SDA Church we've
seen along the roadside.

Joe Bear enjoying the picturesque VA rest stop.

The VW van is to the left of the second sign.

This cute rubber ducky and note were on our
bathtub at tonight's Best Western!

We've seen several similar signs questioning our
destiny (we also saw a lot advertising "adult"
entertainment!  Strange juxtaposition of
values!!!).

In the Land of the Delta Blues

View of Memphis from the Arkansas side of the
Mississippi River

"Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues In the middle of the pouring rain." ~ Marc Cohen, Walking in Memphis

Kellogg's sign just outside of
Fort Smith--where the Kellogg side
of my family lived 70 years ago!

We are spending the night on the east side of Memphis, having driven a more productive number of miles today, thanks mostly to the rain and all the trees.  The rain because we didn't want to get out in it, the trees because we cannot see all the interesting things there might possibly could be just waiting for us off the interstate!  It's beautiful, and we are loving the lush velvety grass and leafed-out trees...except for the limited effect they have on our side-tripping experience :)  Perhaps it's just as well.  We certainly do have miles to go before this trip is finished.  Some 912 miles to be exact, more or less, perhaps, if we don't get lost.  Or side-tracked.

Welcome sign as we went into the historic part
of Fort Smith

Today did have its moments, though.  Our first slight detour took us into the town of Fort Smith, just over the border of Oklahoma into Arkansas.  My mother and at least some of her family lived there some 70 years ago.  I remember hearing stories of how they road their horse Jubilee bare-footed and bare-backed (the horse, not the girls).  Mama taught school here for a time.  We spent some time exploring the Catholic Church in the historica part of town.  It was quite beautiful.  [We have discovered at least three Adventist Churches along the way, too, lest you think we are only interested in Catholic ones!]  And open, so we went in for some pictures and discovered one of the priests training some children to help with Communion Service.  We enjoyed watching for awhile.

The Swiss restaurant we ate in was originally the
hand-dug underground home the family lived in when
they first came to this country.  They then built a
cabin on top of this dugout, which then became
a restaurant.

Our next major stop was for lunch in a town of 46 people, many of them related.  It was a restaurant at a winery and we thought we might find some tasty food, but ended up with just a baked potato and tossed salad.  Everything else we could not eat.  The atmosphere was kind of cool, but the food a little disappointing. 

Road-sign for the Trail of Tears,
route 70 in Arkansas, not far from the
Tennessee border.

The rest of the time we were driving and driving, mostly keeping ahead of the rain (once we got out of it this morning).  When we stopped for supper at about 8, after having crossed the very full Mississippi River and gone around and out of Memphis, rain and thunder and lightening were in the air.  Linda talked the hotel clerk into giving us one of their last rooms to us at a much-reduced rate.  It's a suit, but we just one bed, so I'm on the pull-out couch.  Feels just fine.  We're tired enough to not care. 

We whiled the time away by researching some of the places we drove through (or by) and talking about books and other oh-so-fascinating things about our lives and our interests.  And once we got off the interstate and took a parallel "red" road in the hopes of finding something interesting...and found the historic Trail of Tears, which we followed until we got to Memphis.  Such a sad page in our history that is :(...

Here are a few more favorite shots from our trip today:

  

Historic part of Fort Smith with the Immaculate
Conception Catholic Church at the center.

Linda at lunch.

Rondi at lunch.