I mentioned to Susan awhile back that I was thinking a lot about materialism and its manifestations in parenting.  I've been thinking and procrastinating for some time now.  It's hard for me to get into discussions about parenting or childbirth with my current parent status, but I can still think. ;-)

One of my biggest fears all along hasn't been childbirth or being in charge of a helpless baby or miscarriage.  Nope, it's been accumulating too much stuff.  You can see where my priorities are.  Just kidding. :-P 

I know a lot of generous people.  They gave us a lifetime supply of bath towels when we were married and now they're poised to shop 'till they drop for our baby.  Am I ready for the onslaught of stuff?  I didn't have everything when I was little and now I am so glad--things just don't mean anything.

Now that we've found out that there's a little girl pumpkin in there, folks are even more anxious to scour their attics for baby goodies and pound the parking lot into the mall.  I've been struggling with a polite way to handle all of this.  Mom and I went through all of my old stuff a couple of months ago and did an inventory of what I'll really need when the time comes.  I made a list and plan to use this when well-meaning people ask what I can use for the baby.  It's all I can think to do.  Well, that, and assign sizes to people to ensure I get variety.  It's all a blessing, really, to be surrounded by people who want to take care of us.  I'm still petrified of receiving a thousand pink sleepers in 0-3 month size.

I've put this off for so long simply because I just don't know what else to say.  I've got a tiny house with three closets and an inaccessible attic.  I do, however, have the World's Driest Basement.  So far.  Ladies and gentlemen, keep your receipts.

Here are some links for the curious among you.  They show intriguing patterns in materialism for children and proof of what really matters at the end of the day.

• Berlin's Whimsy on The Stuff of Parents
• Parenting Inc. on NPR's Featured Books
• Jenni at Just Chicken Feed: This Stuff Matters

The word on the street is Americans are using a little less gas.  Finally!  I'm all for carpooling as much as you can.  I do it 85% of the time, but then again, I have Mike to entertain me.  It also helps that we live one block from a grocery store--perfect for when your pregnant wife simply must have blueberry juice or macaroni from the cardboard box.  :-D

that one of my favorite movie-musicals, Once, has won an Oscar and a Grammy!  I don't keep up with things like this, but when I saw this on the NPR website, I was so proud for the people who made this film.  The acting, done by amateurs, is wonderful.  I think musicians should act more often.  If you haven't seen it, please do.  Just Once.

Photo courtesy NPR.

My friend Catrina came over today to enjoy a small Thanksgiving with Mike and me--and to make her very first loaf of yeast bread.  The results were stunning.  She's a kitchen natural. . .

When I was young in the mountains and the other children were reading Goosebumps, I was checking out reference books at the library.  I was on a quest to learn about trees.  The Audubon guides were my constant companions as early as third grade, though I still believed that gnomes lived in the bases of the two old-growth oaks in our front yard.  When I found Richard Preston's The Wild Trees at the library a couple of weeks ago, I discovered that not much had changed for me.

It was an excellent, addicting read.  The book details the lives of those who came to discover and research the world's tallest trees and the seemingly random events that bring them together.  I learned that the canopy of the redwood forests is a hotspot for biodiversity, playing host to rare lichens, blueberry bushes, bonsai, salamanders and copepods.  I was enthralled.  Anything involving blueberry bushes at 350 feet in the air is enthralling.

It's called a story of passion and daring and I'd say that's pretty near true.  The people who study the trees become consumed with them, with their size, and with finding the largest one.  They're confounded to discover a new world at the tops of the trees, in a world where science had said there was nothing left to discover.  They get engaged and married in these trees and some inevitably fall hundreds of feet to their demise or severe injury. 

The author also details his journey to becoming a skywalker, learning to climb trees for a newspaper article, he soon develops skill that makes him worthy of scaling the giants with the best of the best.  His children learn to climb large trees and even enjoy picnics and campouts in the canopy of the forest near their home.  I learned about the Caledonian forest of Glen Affric and the mountain-ash forests of Tasmania. 

The book seemed all too short for me.  But, then again, I am pretty crazy about trees.

It's been strange this week--fast and slow.  I've wanted time to go by, and yet to linger so I can cross off items on my to-do list.

Monday was the dentist and fabric hunting in Abingdon.  Thanks to mom, I've come away with fabric for two dresses, notions to last a lifetime, and super-vintage patterns for me and my future Clover (please).  I also picked up some wonderful winter fabric to line my lunch basket and make a cover to keep out the snow (ever hopeful, still). 

Yesterday was Once, finally.  I'd been waiting six months to see this movie and it was wonderful.  The quality of the picture was horrible, but I blame that on the Cinemall.  I can't wait to see it on DVD, as I will.  Mike the songwriter and me the hopeless Scandinavian romantic found it to be everything the previews had made it out to be.  We also made our first pledge to NPR yesterday, in support of DemocracyNow!

Today, another doctor visit (all routine), knitting time with Phyllis at Fiber 4 Ewe and a really loooong afternoon.  Tonight?  Well, maybe it will rain.  I hope to do some more sewing or felting--I'm overwhelmed  with choices and Mike will ready his photos for the Apple Festival.

Tomorrow we'll enter our items before supper and cross our fingers that the judges love my felted hat and Mike's images of apple buttering at Raccoon Branch campground.  This weekend we'll have two festivals to attend--the Fall Festival at Grayson Highlands and the Apple Festival in Chilhowie.  So much to do in this week.  I suppose these are the times where living peacefully will be put to good use.  Fall is such a busy time.

Oh yeah, and the Friends are treating the last round of Forest Service volunteers to dinner at the Sugar Grove Diner on Monday.  So much to do. . .

Because NPR will never cease to amaze me with its variety of content, I present rock bands devoted totally to Harry Potter.

A nerdy new subculture emerged from the masses of Harry Potter fans--rock bands that travel the library circuit around the world singing songs whose content is all Harry, all the time.  With names like Harry and the Potters,  Draco and the Malfoys, The Whomping Willows, The Remus Lupins and a metal band called "Voldemort," these bands bring Harry's fantasy world to life in a way the books and movies never did.  Harry and the Potters, the most popular, offer songs like " Save Ginny Weasley," "Follow the Spiders," "Platform 9 and 3/4,"  and "The Wrath of Hermione."  Some people even prefer the albums by these bands to the books!

Librarians, especially, love them!  So there you go, gannet, looks like you're going to have to start lobbying for a stage and some sound equipment.  ;-)

 

When I was young in the mountains there were two large oaks in our front yard.  One was a red oak and the other a white oak.  When it was fall in the mountains I got to be sad that the leaves on the two big trees only seemed to turn a dull brown and fall to the ground.  I often wondered if gnomes lived in the massive trunks, but I never did see the tiny brightly painted doors I'd hoped for. 

When I was a little older in the mountains, one of the majestic oaks split in a storm from a hurricane.  One half fell on the house during lunch.  The sound was a big crack and then a soft thump.  At supper with Grandma Lois and Grandad, the other half fell on the road.  I could look out the front door and see one of the most beautiful scenes I've ever witnessed.  It was a tunnel of green leaves, lush from every angle.

Soon, the insurance people came and assessed the damage, and then the chainsaw men and the roofers.  They brought the biggest saws I'd ever seen and worked for days removing both old trees.  The men said the trees were four and five hundred years old.  After it was all over, we were left with stumps about the size of a supper table, four or five feet in diameter.  I would visit the stumps and sit on them, mystified by their size.  I don't remember feeling sad at the time, but now the death of those proud beings hurts my heart.

When I heard "Reaching the Tops of the World's Tallest Trees" on NPR, I was immediately captivated.  Richard Preston has written a book called The Wild Trees: A Story of Passion and Daring, where he tells about happening upon a school that taught tree climbing and his quest to the Pacific Northwest to learn more about the world's tallest trees. 

I had been in the presence of immensely old life.  I had watched my dad use his rock climbing and caving gear to scale the white oak and sit in the hollow of its branches.  I had watched the family cat do the same thing in those wild, frisky hours before sunset.  This story told of epic trees that were not only old, but also made up California's Redwood rainforest.   These trees are home to whole ecosystems within their canopies.  Blueberry bushes, tiny trees, massive mosses and adventurous people who study them.  These forests possess many unnamed gifts and inspire a sense of wonder in me that I have not felt in some time. 

An exerpt from the book, a chapter called "The Fall of Telperion" tells of being in a hammock in the canopy during a storm and witnessing the demise of one of these giants.  The sounds that came from the tree and the motion it made were very powerful just to hear told in a story.  I cannot imagine what it must have been like to witness.

When I was older still in the mountains, I walked in the winter night to the mailbox at the old Davis Homeplace.  The wind blew and a child of the old red oak creaked in the silence.


The author, Richard Preston, and his daughter climbing a three hundred year old Caledonian Pine in Scotland. 
Photo by Robert Lewis

I'm not a movie person, but when I saw the review for this one on NPR, I was hooked, totally.

Back to Basics: Kingsolver Clan Lives off Land 

Weekend Edition Sunday, April 29, 2007 · In her newest book, Barbara Kingsolver departs from the route taken in popular works of fiction like The Poisonwood Bible and The Bean Trees, to tell the true story of going back to her roots in Appalachia.

In Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, Kingsolver and her family conduct an experiment in what she calls learning to "eat deliberately." That means eating only seasonal local foods, or food they've gown themselves.

The family leaves their home in Tucson, Ariz., and heads to Kingsolver's family farm in Virginia to live off the land. The clan grows a large garden and spends the summer storing food, jarring tomatoes, braiding garlic and stuffing turkey sausage.

Along the way, the family discovers the pleasures of eating naturally raised meat.

Kingsolver's family did more than live the story; they also contributed to the book. Her husband, Steven Hopp, writes about industrial agriculture and ecology, and her daughter, Camille, adds flavorful recipes.

Lynn Neary speaks with Kingsolver and Hopp about their experiences.

Skip on over and take a listen!

All Things Considered, April 16, 2007 · Historic preservationists can be passionate about keeping the wrecking ball from beloved buildings. But how many would lay down their lives?

One man did: Architecture photographer Richard Nickel spent years with his camera, documenting — and arguing against — the demolition of buildings in Chicago. Thirty-five years ago this month, Nickel died trying to document the demise of a building designed by Louis Sullivan, whose architecture helped define the Chicago cityscape.

In the '60s and early '70s, Nickel watched the demolition of so many of Sullivan's buildings — and buildings created by other turn-of-the-century masters — that he wrote, "I look forward to the day when I never have to enter a wet, charred, smoky building again."

I just don't know what to say about this.

by Wayne Coyne 

Morning Edition, February 26, 2007 · I believe we have the power to create our own happiness. I believe the real magic in the world is done by humans. I believe normal life is extraordinary.

I was sitting in my car at a stoplight intersection listening to the radio. I was, I guess, lost in the moment, thinking how happy I was to be inside my nice warm car. It was cold and windy outside, and I thought, "Life is good."

Now, this was a long light. As I waited, I noticed two people huddled together at the bus stop. To my eyes, they looked uncomfortable; they looked cold and they looked poor. Their coats looked like they came from a thrift store. They weren't wearing stuff from The Gap. I knew it because I'd been there.

The couple seemed to be doing their best to keep warm. They were huddled together, and I thought to myself, "Oh, those poor people in that punishing wind."

But then I saw their faces. Yes, they were huddling, but they were also laughing. They looked to be sharing a good joke, and suddenly, instead of pitying them, I envied them. I thought, "Huh, what's so funny?" They didn't notice the wind. They weren't worried about their clothes. They weren't looking at my car thinking, "I wish I had that."

You know when a single moment feels like an hour? Well, in that moment, I realized I had assumed this couple needed my pity, but they didn't. I assumed things were all bad for them, but they weren't. And I understood we all have the power to make moments of happiness happen.

Now, maybe that's easy for me to say. I feel lucky to have fans around the world, a house with a roof and a wife who puts up with me. But I felt this way even when I was working at Long John Silver's. I worked there for 11 years as a fry cook. When you work at a place that long, you see teenagers coming in on their first dates; then they're married; then they're bringing in their kids. You witness whole sections of people's lives.

In the beginning, it seemed like a dead end job. But at least I had a job. And frankly, it was easy. After two weeks, I knew all I needed to know, and it freed my mind. The job allowed me to dream about what my life could become.

The first year I worked there, we got robbed. I lay on the floor. I thought I was going to die. I didn't think I stood a chance. But everything turned out all right. A lot of people look at life as a series of miserable tasks, but after that, I didn't.

I believe this is something all of us can do: Try to be happy within the context of the life we are actually living. Happiness is not a situation to be longed for or a convergence of lucky happenstance. Through the power of our own minds, we can help ourselves. This I believe.

 

Peter said to Paul
"All those words that we wrote
Are just the rules of the game and the rules are the first to go"
But now talkin' to God is Laurel beggin' Hardy for a gun
I gotta girl in the war, man I wonder what it is we done

Paul said to Petey
"You gotta rock yourself a little harder;
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire"
And I got a girl in the war, Paul the only thing I know to do
Is turn up the music and pray that she makes it through

Because the keys to the kingdom got locked inside the kingdom
And the angels fly around in there, but we can't see them
And I gotta girl in the war, Paul I know that they can hear me yell
If they can't find a way to help, they can go to Hell
If they can't find a way to help her, they can go to Hell

Paul to Petey "you gotta rock yourself a little harder;
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire"
But I gotta girl in the war, Paul her eyes are like champagne
They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain
Sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain
They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain

This story from NPR (Soldiers Say Army Ignores, Punishes Mental Anguish) shows what fighting of any kind can do to a person.  It destroys you--slowly from a dispute with a friend or family member, or quickly and shockingly from life in a land steeped in hatred and conflict.

Sometimes I don't know what to think.  I'm still thinking this story over in my head.  My cousin Michael is in Iraq.  We've never been close, unfortunately, but when I saw him on July 4th, I could see the pain and fear.  My uncle Craig said that he was paranoid, checking for his gun all the time, unaccustomed to feeling safe.  He seemed angry to me.

Even the young man in the story who feels that some people are weak, later admits his own emotional problems and seeks help.  

Jobs of any kind are not for one personal entertainment and the variety in the life of a soldier described by one young man in the story is vile.

And to think that these people feel and in some cases, know, they have nowhere to turn for help, and that the army will "eliminate" them if they do.

One of the comments read:

Time for Real Change

PTSD is a normal human response to witnessing or experiencing violence and feeling intense fear, horror, and helplessness. War is condoned violence. If everyone condoned peace, we could rid this world of war.

These soldiers need support from their government, not denial and punishment. It's time for real change.

-- Mary Ann Reynolds, Austin, Texas