February 2021 – Earth and Midnight

A Stretch of the Imagination

A couple weeks ago, I did my taxes.

I’m always interested in hearing and learning about what other people are going through, what life is like according to people in different circumstances. It opens my mind to new ideas, new ways of behaving, and expands my worldview.

In this year’s tax form instructional booklet, I came across a few scenarios that gave me a little shock. It’s the surprise of realizing that a rule applies to enough people that the IRS created directions for it and typed it into this booklet intended for the general public, and the instance never occurred to me.

The most heartbreaking section I came across was on what filing status to choose if your child has been kidnapped. Can you imagine having to think about this?

When considering fringe benefits you need to include as part of your income, the IRS’s website gives the example of your employer gifting your spouse with a car due to services you performed. It sounds like something that might happen in the movies. I had never imagined anything like that happening in real life.

There’s a section about the amount of expenses whaling captains can deduct as charitable contributions. Never knew this was A Thing. Another portion detailed how much of a tax deduction you can take for donating taxidermy. I guess it must happen- nobody wants the stuffed raccoon Uncle Charlie shot 60 years ago. I just never thought about it.

You may have seen this at the end of the booklet- a warning to tax filers who owe money to the IRS: “No checks of $100 million or more accepted.” So, if you owe $180 million, you have to separate the amount into two checks. I realize that this would mostly apply to businesses, but it’s still hard for me to imagine this as an actual situation. If those were the taxes, with all of the business write offs, deductions, and loopholes, what was the total income?

It looks like I need to start dreaming bigger. Who knew that doing taxes would open up a while new world of imagination?

Perfect Timing

A lesson that kept recurring on my long road trip was: Do it while you have the chance.

You plan to hike later in the day, but it may rain later. The employee you were going to talk to in the afternoon may leave early. The attraction may be closed when you pass it on the way back. You only have one set of clean clothes left, and you may not be in the vicinity of a laundromat tomorrow. Your internet connection may go on the fritz tonight, and those websites you were going to look at may not load. So, write down those driving directions now. Pay that bill now. Look up that information now. Visit the attraction when you first come to it. Hike while the weather’s decent. Wash your clothes while you have the opportunity. Do it now, while you’ve got the chance.

Of course, I translate this into a major life lesson. Don’t wait. When is it going to feel like The Perfect Time to move, start a family, take up a new sport, go back to school, switch careers, take a vacation to Paris, or whatever else you want to do in life? Sometimes, never.

Heck, even if it is raining, if you want to get a hike in today, go for it! [One of my favorite lessons related to this topic is mentioned in this post about Badlands Petrified Gardens in Kadoka, SD.] You’re alive now, you’re here now, you have the chance right now. Even if the conditions don’t seem “perfect,” you’ll have an experience that shapes your life.

It’s Your Decision

Several years ago, I wanted to write more poetry. Luckily, I had a job where I could usually eat lunch while I was working at my desk. Then, on my half hour lunch break, I’d sit at a picnic table by a pond or at a table in the library and work on poems. To try and help keep me motivated, I entered a few poetry contests online. The prizes for these contests were publication and sometimes money. One submission was to a well-known [to those familiar with the genre] haiku magazine.

It seems normal to not get any response to a submission. Well, I got an email from the haiku magazine, where one of the editors figuratively hacked apart all my poems, threw them on the floor, and suggested I read some of their issues to get a sense of what they’re looking for (which, of course, I had done before I sent anything in). Some people may have appreciated an editor taking the time to give them feedback, but I didn’t. (My thinking is, art is subjective. If you like it, then print it; if you don’t, then don’t. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean the poem is bad or that I need to change it. I know- diva!)

I had been vaguely considering starting a blog for a while, although I hadn’t seriously looked into it. That incident became one of the stones in the bridge that eventually led me to create a blog. Why was I waiting for someone else to determine that my poetry was worth publishing? I would decide that it was worth publishing. That was (and is) an important lesson to take forward in life in general. If you want something, claim it and make it happen. [The poems that I submitted to magazines (plus more) have since been published on this blog.]

For anyone who has a fantasy of “being discovered” by someone with power or authority, just look in the mirror. Decide for yourself that you’re beautiful, talented, smart, strong, have a good idea that’s worth pursuing, have a skill that’s useful, or whatever else empowers you. And then live like you believe it.

Wisconsin Ivy League Adventures

My mom and I met a handful of times in the same area of Wisconsin for our Adventure Weekends. We usually stayed at the same cheap motel in the tiny town of Oxford because it was almost exactly halfway between us. We’d always end up driving around the area and exploring the towns, attractions, and countryside within about a forty-mile radius of the motel.

Whoever was in charge of naming roads out there must have had a sick sense of humor. You’d find Evergreen Lane right near Evergreen Road and Evergreen Court. 18th Road was not far from 18th Lane, 18th Drive, and 18th Avenue. Elk Road was by Elk Court and Elk Lane. And those are just a few examples. It’s a good thing we were on vacation and weren’t in a time crunch.

Here are some of the adventures we enjoyed there:

We found a miniature horse farm and got out to take pictures and feed them grass through the fence. Another time, it was a herd of cows.

I had read online that during one of our visits, you’d be able to see the crane migration at dawn in a certain area. We got up super early and drove out to the area described online, but we didn’t see a big flock or other cars congregated in that area. At least we tried.

I had also seen a bison farm advertised online. We tried to find it a couple times before we ended up coming upon it accidentally in a new location. Man, did those bison bolt when I got out of the car, and those things can run!

We visited a native plant farm, walked through their display garden, and bought some seeds.

Once, we walked from our motel to a tiny local library, where we found a table heaped with magazines they were giving away for free. We each took a little stack and spent the evening paging through our finds.

We stopped at a few garage sales we saw along the road. One of the homeowners had chickens. At the time, my mom was considering getting backyard chickens, and the owner talked to us for a long time about raising them.

We ate at a couple mom & pop restaurants.

We ate picnics in a park across from a farm field, where we watched a pair of sandhill cranes feeding.

We walked along the boardwalk by a lake, lounged on a wooden porch-style swing, and crossed a curved bridge with petunias dripping from the railings.

After a couple attempts, we finally found a trail leading to the top of a hill that we had heard about. We hiked to the top and viewed the sunset from a cluster of giant boulders, then scurried back down through the woods before the light faded so we wouldn’t get lost.

We went to a local art fair in a city park.

We shopped at a flea market.

We stopped at antique stores and thrift stores, plus other shops that caught our attention: a garden center, a greenhouse, a global gift shop, a gift shop that supported local artists.

We made a pilgrimage to an Amish bakery in the middle of nowhere.

We visited a bunch of tiny, old-fashioned main streets. The town of Princeton’s main street included a small public garden with benches, a curved walking path, hanging baskets, antique-style garden art, and a cafe table and chairs under a gazebo [Megow Park].

One of the most surreal encounters (in my opinion) was walking from an ice cream shop to the city park in downtown Green Lake and passing a guy playing an upright piano on the front porch of a house. I’m not used to hearing live piano music, with its natural volume and resonance, played outside in public.

This is also the area where we found the Rubber Chicken Fling [see story here].

It was at one of the thrift shops in this area that I bought a two-disc CD set called Lifetime of Romance. I got it because I recognized and liked some of the songs: Etta James singing “At Last,” The Righteous Brothers’ cover of “Unchained Melody,” and Patsy Cline’s version of “Crazy.” I’m not sure if my definition of “romance” involves failed relationships, but at least you could argue that it deals with the topic of love. Bafflingly, the opening song on the second disc is Bobby Darin’s “Mack the Knife.” In case you aren’t familiar with the song, it’s about a serial killer. I still don’t understand how that song choice got rationalized into the compilation.

Anyway, this album introduced me to the song “Stranger on the Shore” performed by clarinetist Acker Bilk. Whenever I hear it now, it’s always infused with memories of these long weekends in Wisconsin. To me, this song embodies the feeling of Those Lazy Days of Summer, a Sunday drive with the windows down, green fields sprawling for miles, heavy air, nowhere you need to be, wanting it to last forever.

Garden Variety Heroes

When I was growing up, my grandparents grew a vegetable garden every year. Two, actually- one on either side of the driveway. In the small space left for flowers, my grandma planted zinnia and marigold seeds.

When I’d visit their house in summer, colorful bunches of zinnias in glass jars brightened the kitchen and living room.

I always assumed that my grandma really liked zinnias, but when I mentioned it one time, her response was basically, not really, but she planted them because they always grew well.

When I got into gardening in my teens, I saw what she meant. Whenever I planted a packet of zinnia seeds, at least some of them always sprouted, survived, and bloomed.

Now that I’m living in an apartment, my garden space has been downsized to one large pot on my patio. Last spring, I planted four different types of seeds in there- something edible (Swiss chard), a vine (morning glories) to hopefully grow up the patio railing, nasturtiums (because I have a special regard for nasturtiums), and flowers for cutting (zinnias). Although I did get one vine and some tiny chard leaves, the nasturtiums quickly took over the pot. I buried more nasturtium seeds into the bare patches of dirt and let them take over the show.

In case you aren’t familiar with nasturtiums, they do well in mild seasons, but fry in summer. By July, most of the nasturtium leaves had turned as dry and tan as potato chips. I dug out the nasturtium plants and replaced them with petunia plugs. I’ve grown petunias many times in the past, and they always seemed easy. These petunias lived and flowered, but they never got any bigger, and never vined or spilled over the edge of the pot. After a couple months, I stopped paying attention to the flower pot. A few weeds grew between the petunias. I hardly ever watered anymore. Eventually, a hard frost killed most everything. I cleaned the dead vegetation out of the flower pot.

As usual, winter weather teased the landscape, sometimes warming, sometimes frosting. In November, I looked out the window one day and saw pink. A zinnia bud in my flower pot was just starting to open. I watched over the next few weeks as the flower matured and another stem produced another bud. On Thanksgiving, I saw that a tiny rust orange zinnia flower had opened.

I have to give those zinnia seeds a lot of credit! After being crowded in spring, shaded out, tilled, planted over, and frozen, they took it all in stride, growing and flowering as if it were business as usual. Some of the “weeds” in the flowerbed turned out to be zinnias, outperforming the plants who got preferential treatment.

Zinnias didn’t start out being my favorite flowers, either. Possibly because they’re so common, and their look is coarser than other flowers. I was lured by the delicate, feminine appearance of other petals. It was only in time that I learned to appreciate the beauty in longevity and a strong constitution. These plants put me to shame. They don’t complain- the stems always stand strong, and the flowers are always colorful, always happy! Loyal soldiers, zinnias remind me to keep living and blossoming to the best of my ability in whatever circumstances I happen to be in.

I ran errands yesterday and saw that seed packets are back in stores. I bought only zinnia seeds for this year, short varieties suited for growing in pots. I picked them for the same reason that my grandma did: they work!

Seeing Stars

While I was on my year-long trip, I discovered something I like better than movies: planetarium shows.

It’s similar to a movie in that you buy a ticket, walk into a roomful of padded chairs, sit back, the lights are turned down, and all you have to do is watch and listen. Or space out (no pun intended).

The presentations that appeal to me most are the ones titled something like “Tonight’s Sky.” The shows weave together astronomy, history, ancient civilizations, mythology, chemistry, and other subjects. And I always learn something. The presenters point out a feature to locate after you leave the show, such as a planet, constellation, or meteor shower. So when you leave the planetarium, your involvement with astronomy isn’t over; you now have a task, which involves spending time outside and finding the item that was discussed.

Some presenters speak in soft, soothing voices that lull you into a relaxed, dreamlike state, which in itself is worth the price of admission. Others have rich dramatic voices that express the theatrics of the myths and the wonder of modern space exploration.

Because it’s live, each show is slightly different. There’s is also an immediacy from a live show that’s lacking in a recorded film.

I find the information and stories interesting, but at the same time, I don’t care enough about the topics to study and find all that information on my own. I appreciate that someone else has done the leg work and pieced the highlights together in a fascinating and entertaining way.

If or when public attractions open again, I’m looking forward to taking a journey to the stars.

Made in the Shade

I’m fair-skinned. Although I freckle, I had so far never tanned between freckles. One summer in junior high, my friend Kristen and I decided to get me tan. I have no idea how the subject came up, who took charge of the plan, and I can’t explain why it seemed like a good idea. My guess is pure optimism. Just because it’s never happened in the past doesn’t mean that it can’t ever happen- right? I ignored that little voice inside reminding me, You’ve gotten sunburned in the shade.

As far as I know, neither of us looked up directions on how to tan safely or consulted an expert on the most effective way to tan fair skin. I don’t know why I thought the results would be different from any other summer. We seemed to put our faith in tanning lotions.

I had a subscription to Teen magazine, a magazine geared toward pre-teen girls, packed with ads for the latest beauty products. Kristen proposed going in on a product together and sharing the bottle. I agreed. That summer, some of the compelling new sun-related products included a clear serum with flecks of blue glitter, and sunblock in a range of colors, apparently to be applied to the face in the style of either warpaint or clown makeup. I just looked on the internet, and both of these products (the concepts, if not the original brands) are available for purchase right now. I don’t know if they’ve made a comeback or if they’ve stuck around this whole time.

The product we ended up buying promised to expedite your tan. We both applied it on a trip to the lake with Kristen’s family. I can attest that the lotion did seem to accelerate the effect of the sun’s rays on the skin. I have never gotten such a horrible sunburn so fast. But that could easily be due to the fact that I lay in direct sun, and without coating myself in SPF 50 first- not my normal practice.

That evening, my skin had developed into a shade pretty accurately described as “rose.” It was the kind of burn where it hurts to go to sleep, because it hurts to lay down and have your skin to press against anything, even a blanket. I don’t think I even took note of Kristen’s outcome with the tanning lotion because I was too focused on my own suffering.

That was the first and last time I messed around with getting a tan. What is the lesson here? There’s a fine line between optimism and foolishness. The quietest voice-the one that only you can hear- is often the wisest voice in the room, and it would be wise to listen. Otherwise, you might get burned!