Other items of interest

Shoulda been…

It is March and we have been in pandemic quarantine for a year.  For me, our world shifted on March 15.  I know others may mark a slightly earlier day of that same week, but I started counting on a “Sabbath Sunday”.  That first day when we stayed home with a Covid purpose, treating Sunday as if it was a snow day, without gathering at church but still creating quiet time for reflection and meditation.

Like others, I could not have envisioned I would be writing this post 365+ days later.  Our Covid journey has been varied.  Days when it simply felt right to be home and other times when anxiety took hold in my temporal lobe and I wondered would it ever be safe to be together.  Now, with the first vaccines in our systems and second doses coming next week, I am starting to think beyond our small Kutzky Park environ, especially today when we shoulda been celebrating John and Hannah’s wedding in person rather than online.  Maybe we will all gather for an anniversary party next year but, in the meantime, Lynn Ungar’s poem, written as we went into lockdown, still offers sustenance.

Pandemic
What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.
 
And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.
 
Promise this world your love–
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.
 
–Lynn Ungar 3/11/20

Other items of interest

Waffles + Mochi

Continuing her quest to encourage kids (and adults too) to explore and enjoy healthy food, Michelle Obama is launching a new adventure with her puppet friends Waffles + Mochi.  They will travel the world to find just the right ingredients and, along their way, meet new friends that viewers will certainly recognize — Chef José Andrés, Common, Jack Black and more.  Just a quick view of the promotional trailer will have you smiling and looking forward to meeting Waffles + Mochi on the March 16 Netflix debut. 

Other items of interest

Audi Q5 worth the 7 month wait

After months of car spec research, Richard determined the perfect combo of options for our new 2020 Audi Q5.  He placed a February order specifically timed for a spring delivery so we could enjoy driving at least one season with clear vision through a windshield without sand and salt micro-pits. 

After decades of silver vehicles we thought we’d whirl the color wheel and picked Azores Green only to learn that color had been discontinued just one week earlier.  Then came Covid.  Audi factories worldwide closed and our order for a Navarra Blue Q5 with Nougat Brown interior went into limbo.

Our excitement began building when Richard read factories were starting up.  Anticipation took a big leap when we learned our car was built on August 11, then grew a bit more when it arrived in Houston from Mexico on September 4  Needless to say I did a happy dance yesterday when we learned our new Audi was being prepped in Rochester for Saturday pick up.  With just 15 miles on the odometer, we have a future of driving fun starting with fall colors and nearby blue line twisty bits.

Racing · Travel

Spa

There are those iconic images that immediately alert the viewer to a special place, maybe a special time and memory as well:  Mount Rushmore when I was seven; the Matterhorn on an early September morning in 1991 or the Circuit de Spa Francorchamps, Stavelot, Belgium, 2018.

After decades of watching Formula 1 with Richard (free practice on Fridays, Saturday qualifying and Sunday’s race) and attending five race weekends[1] onsite, I recognize a number of international race tracks.  One of the most iconic with homage to a bygone era is Spa where we watched a somewhat less exciting race from the bleachers at La Source in 2018.  My travel journal reports:

Pit lane and the run down to Eau Rouge

As races go, this one was not the most exciting. All of the drama happened on lap one right in front of us. Hulkenberg hit the back of Alonso’s car as they accordioned into La Source, sending Fernando airborne over the top of Charles Leclerc. Very scary.  Race results:  Vettel, Hamilton, Verstappen

Today’s race was viewed in home comfort with large screen details and ongoing color commentary without any of the radical weather changes for which the Ardennes Forest is known.  And, without Flemish Frietes (thick cut, twice fried French fries served with gobs and gobs of mayo.) 2020 race results:  Hamilton, Bottas, Verstappen


[1]  Phoenix – 1989; Montreal – 2000 & 2014; Indianapolis – 2005; Spa – 2018

Other items of interest · Travel

Evening Flight

I can count on one hand the times I’ve flown in a small 2- or 4-seater plane and I don’t even need my thumb to complete the tally.  Last night’s flight, in a Beechcraft Bonanza, made four.  On a spectrum of summer evenings, this one was a definite top 10 with good company, cloudless skies and a rare spontaneous experience.  Our flight path took us northeast from Rochester to Red Wing, south over the Mississippi River nearly to Winona before heading back west.

Over the years, with countless trips from Hokah to Lonsdale, Vasa to Alden and all the libraries and bookmobile stops in between, I know the blue line highways curve through the rolling hills of our Driftless area.  But there is a missing link between knowing there are hills and only seeing our corner of Minnesota as a distant 2-dimensional view from the lightly scratched window of a Delta commercial flight.  From 3,000 feet the geological undulations are beyond beautiful. 

The evening sky had that early August haze and, while the groves of trees still held their verdant green color, the fields were twinged with late summer yellow, ripe for harvest.  It was evident that within weeks the landscape would shift from green to amber to rich fall browns.  

I always think of the Zumbro as more of a small stream than a real river but flying over the watershed showed an extensive network of creeks and a main channel that eventually winds its way east.  And then, almost to Red Wing, but not quite to Wisconsin, we banked right and so we could follow the mighty Mississippi past Wabasha, over Lake City (the home of waterskiing) and to Alma.  The bluffs on each side climb out of the river valley.  There was a small smattering of boat traffic, including one barge.  With the sun setting over my right shoulder, we made another sweeping right turn before engaging the instrument approach and landing.  After parking on the tarmac, we helped spray and wipe the leading edge of the wings and tail to remove the summer bug splats.

Our last single engine flight was in September 1991 when a Swiss cousin took Richard, Dad and me up for a view of the Alps around Luzerne.  While the landscape may have been more dramatic that day, this most recent flight was maybe even more memorable as it gave us a different view of our chosen home.

Other items of interest · Writing

Migrating

I have resurrected my long dormant WordPress skills to recreate this new personal website. While I have never been a real writer (unlike someone such as Elizabeth Klein who said that for her “writing is like breathing”), I tend to periodically dabble. In the immediate pre- and post- retirement days, I wrote to capture the swing of emotions as I left my professional days behind. And, since I preceeded a good friend into this next chapter of our working lives by six months, she had requested I share any insights. She claimed my musing were useful although I am still skeptical.

At the onset of our Covid-19 confinement as days merged totally undistinguishable into one another and spurred on by The Isolation Journals, I thought to capture some of the emotions of these unprecedented times. And it worked – sort of. But, never having taken a creative writing class, the daily exercises felt artificial. So another nonstarter.

But nagging at the back of my brain was the fact that my Raverly profile included a link to my long-abandoned Tumblr account, The Bead Working Librarian. This site was initially created in December 2013 as Thing 1 at the launch of 23 Mobile Things (the mobile edition of 23 Things on a Stick). As the title suggests, my artistic focus at the time was still on beads but the individual posts reflect my switch to fiber. My first thought was to simply migrate all the content to its own page within this new site so as to not loose the thread of my early knitting experiences. But, having gone through the painstaking work of migrating content several times for the SELCO website, my earlier writing simply did not merit that amount of time and work. Hence the content will stay at The Bead Working Librarian until Tumbr or this link disappears into cyberspace. What I will migrate from Tumblr is the crisp formatting that fits my writing style – – lots of pictures with short descriptive phrases to describe the current events in my life.