Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Monthly Archives: September 2018


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De-Politicizing. Is that a word?

Sunshine captured in fall petals.


Saturday morning I went out for my second shift of door-to-door canvassing, getting the word out about my chosen candidate for Congress. She’s closing the small gap that existed a few weeks ago between her and the incumbent. According to his polls he has a 2 point lead. According to her polls she has a 4 point lead.

I think neither team can claim victory yet.

Everything’s looking good at my park mama!

And so I and my canvassing partners hit the streets again. I hoped more people would be home on a Saturday morning versus the Sunday afternoon we worked last weekend. I was disappointed.

Lots of color at Katie’s park.

We knocked on 38 doors and talked to perhaps 10 or 12 people. But this time the people were more welcoming, more ready to listen to our story. And that made it a nicer day. Still, it wasn’t fun or comfortable.

Canvassing is definitely not something I want to do on a regular basis.

This little guy must have worked hard to get up on this big rock. We didn’t disturb him.

I don’t know how far we walked because my Fitbit died earlier this week, but it felt like a long, long way. The distance between houses was greater, the lots bigger, the roads had more hills.

Will pose for treats.

But it was a beautiful day, as many of the people we talked to mentioned. Most of them seemed to appreciate that we had given up a pretty morning to walk their neighborhood. A few people told us to have a good day as we left their porches. One wished us luck.

Standing tall.

And even the guy that opened his door with the statement “if this is political I don’t want to hear it.” laughed when I told him to remember the middle aged women slogging through his neighborhood when he was making up his mind at the polls on election day.

I think he’ll remember us. I hope he remembers us in a good way.

Pretty afternoon light makes me smile.

I’m pretty sure I got my 10,000 steps in on Saturday because as soon as I got home I hugged my dog and began the process of de-poiticizing my brain and body. Working the kinks out, relaxing the shoulders, stretching the aching calf muscles.

Mostly I de-politicized by bundling Katie into the car and immediately heading out to her park where we walked along her pond and sniffed the pee-mail left by other dogs.

Peaceful.

Well. She did the sniffing. I mostly took photos. As you’ve probably guessed, all the photos here are from our Saturday afternoon together.

But the strain of doing something so outside my sense of normal required me to take Katie to two parks Saturday afternoon. After visiting her local park we drove down to Kensington, my favorite park, for a short walk among tall trees and along the lake shore.

Still posing for treats.

Katie thought she was in heaven. Two parks in one afternoon! She couldn’t stop smiling even though it did mean her supper was late. She made me pay for that later, but I was just glad to be out there so it was all good.

Red and green working together. Congress should take note.

Katie-girl is very good at de-politicizing her mama.

Balancing reflections.

The work will continue, there’s no letting up now, but whether or not I will canvass again is a question I’ll have to answer once I’m home from our impending trip to DC.

Politics. I just can’t avoid it. Wish I could.

I’m here for you mama.


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2020 soup musings

I made soup yesterday, roasted tomato and basil.

The beginnings.

As I was opening a can of tomato paste I noticed the expiration date was in 2020.

March 2020 will probably be pretty interesting.

Given the political climate at the moment, I wonder what the world will look like in 2020.

Somehow I can’t quite imagine it.

The onions, pepper and potato work up a sweat while the tomatoes roast.

So I sighed and finished the soup.

Torn basil finishes it up.

It turned out really good.

I hope 2020 turns out really good too.

Yum. Soup and cheesy garlic bread.


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Happy Birthday Aunt Vi!

Today is Aunt Vi’s 103rd birthday.

At age 95.

It’s her first up in heaven with all her sisters and most of her brothers, plus her mom and dad who she talked about regularly and missed every day.

96th birthday

I’ve heard about some of the parties the family had when they were all younger. I can almost imagine the fun they’re having up there today, dancing and hugging, playing cards and softball and telling stories while they enjoy a huge potluck.

On her 100th birthday.

I’m sure everyone there is glad to have her back in the fold, but we sort of miss her back here.

101st birthday.

Still, I know her 103rd birthday is infinitely better than her 102nd was.

102nd birthday.

Happy Birthday Aunt Vi, now you’re young again and will be forever.

The light shines on her now.


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Way outside my comfort level

Politics. Not something I’m comfortable with, not something I’ve been particularly interested in, not something I really want to become involved with. But even I have come to realize that posting political memes on Facebook or tweeting my dissatisfaction with the way things currently are isn’t enough.

Staying silent about certain issues I feel strongly about is also something that I’m not comfortable with.

Still, change is hard. I grew up as a pretty quiet kid. I’m an introvert by nature, and would be content to camp in the woods with my dog and let all the chaos, strife, rhetoric, and bad feelings of the current political climate stream past me, like a river splits for a rock in it’s path. But lately the river has become raging, and I’m no longer content to stay safe on my isolated rock.

Months ago when a retired Republican township official knocked on our door and talked about a Democrat who was running against our Republican Representative we were intrigued. A seasoned Republican was spreading the word about a young Democrat. A female Democrat who served in Iraq, volunteering after September 11th, who has worked in the White Houses of both Bush and Obama, a woman who refuses any PAC money and won’t take contributions from large corporations.

Interesting.

And as the rhetoric builds it becomes more and more impossible to stay silent.

So this past weekend I volunteered to canvas, door to door, for Elissa Slotkin who is challenging incumbent Representative Mike Bishop in my district. You see, Representative Bishop hasn’t welcomed me and my issues into his Washington office; he really doesn’t want to hear what I have to say about truck safety. We can’t get a meeting with his staff, and though they usually acknowledge us when we drop information off, nothing ever turns into a serious meeting. Slotkin, on the other hand, has given my husband and me over an hour of her time to learn about truck safety issues.

Perhaps if I had been able to have a similarly thoughtful meeting with Bishop’s staff I wouldn’t have been out stumping for Slotkin now.

I can’t say I enjoyed it. Knocking on strangers’ doors to talk politics is about as far away from what makes me happy as you can get. There wasn’t one moment when I felt comfortable. But there are only forty some days left until the election, and this race will be very tight. The absentee ballots are available and people can start voting now.

If I want change, and I do, then I have to do the hard work required to make it happen.

And, even more scary, I have to risk the friendships of many people who I know are much more conservative than I, people who might be offended to find out I don’t always agree with all conservative policy. But as I heard Willie Nelson express in an interview recently when he was challenged for backing a Democrat by some of his fans – “They have a right to their opinion, and I have a right to mine.”

I know that I can be friends with people who have differing political opinions. I just hope all my friends realize they can too. And I hope that after November 6th we’re all still friends.

No matter which side wins.


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Now she’s done it.

Katie here.

Well, mama’s gone and done it this time. She’s getting forgetful and she spends a lot of time looking for stuff. Like her keys and her glasses and her book. But now I think she’s slipped over the edge into something more ominous.

Aren’t these reed things cool?

This time she’s misplaced daddy.

I’ve looked and looked and I can’t find him anywhere! I’m worried that I’ll never see him again! Other times, when mama and I are off on adventures I know that daddy is home safe and sound. Eventually we go back and there he is and I get all wiggle-butt and happy and stuff.

Which is prettier mama? The asters or me?

But now we’re already at home and I can’t find my daddy.

Mama says it’s OK, she talks to him all the time and he’s just down south helping my uncle work on a project. But that doesn’t make any sense to me. Usually if my people are down south we’re all down there together. And here mama and I are up in Michigan. So I don’t know if I believe her.

Sometimes when I come in from a walk in the park I run in the house and down the hall just to say hi to my daddy and when he’s not there I get all disappointed. Mama tries to distract me with talk about supper and stuff, but I know the truth.

Hey mama! I’m sticking to you like glue!

My daddy is lost.

So I’m putting out the word. If you find him, please send him home to me and mama, OK? Meanwhile I’m sucking up to mama. I’ve lost one parent, I’m not letting the other one out of my sight! And she’s sucking up to me too. The images in this blog post are from a lovely walk we had in one of my parks yesterday.

Today I’m campaigning for another walk at a different park. I have to keep track of so much, my parks and my parents! It’s exhausting for a little sheltie-girl.

I think I’ll go take a nap. Got to be rested up when daddy comes home!

ZZZZZZZZZ….


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Responsible adult

The pull of the road is strong even though I just got back from a quick 5 day road trip to Minnesota.

The long and winding road.

I know I’ve been gone the majority of this summer, off to Alabama, or up north to camp or to DC for a meeting. Or somewhere.

The soybeans are turning yellow. There’s no time to lose!

If I was a responsible adult I’d buckle down and get some things done around here.

Little puffy clouds were starting to pop up.

If I was a responsible adult I’d work on weeding the gardens.

Hundreds of swallows were enjoying the warm sun.

I’d order more mulch and get it spread before we turn the corner toward winter.

The classic red barns in yellow fields of soybeans.

If I was a responsible adult I’d unpack Katie’s luggage and put it all away so that I can find her stuff again when she has to go back to camp.

A lonely white barn sits with a bit of attitude on a small hill.

In fact, I’d clean out her cupboard in the laundry room where years of stuff she no longer uses are stored in sloppy piles.

There was a barn around every corner.

If I was a responsible adult I’d empty out the freezer and toss out all that frost covered unidentifiable stuff hiding in the back.

I loved the green stripes in this plowed field, combined with the wildflowers up front and the clouds above.

If I was a responsible adult I’d sort through the camping gear and toss the stuff that is old, broken, moldy or never used.

Then there was this field, full of dark green sugar beet foliage, followed by the yellow of soybeans and the barn off in the distance.

Then I’d rearrange it on the shelves in the basement so I knew what I had before next season comes around.

Barns closeup are interesting too.

If I was a responsible adult I’d do the same for the pantry. You don’t even want to know what old, broken, moldy or never used stuff is in there.

So many old barns.

If I was a responsible adult I’d clean out the oriole bird feeder and put it away for the season. The hummingbird feeders need some attention too.

A touch of red among the yellow, blue and white.

But I haven’t done any of that. Instead I heeded the call of the road and went in search of barns.

It was a good afternoon for photography.

And I don’t feel guilty one bit.

A spectacular late summer day on the farm.


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Magic

Saturday night was the Ann Arbor Symphony’s first concert of the new season. If you weren’t there you missed something pretty special.

Beautiful music in a beautiful venue.

It started out with the premiere playing of Ann Arbor Saturday, by composer William Bolcom. The piece was commissioned for the symphony and depicted Ann Arbor on a football game day, from the initial flow of cars coming into the quiet town to the intense game itself, with the University of Michigan finally coming out on top. Of course.

Along the way it pays homage to other universities with bits of their fight songs woven into the main themes. The audience, most staunch supporters of University of Michigan football got all the jokes and nuances. Being a Michigan State graduate myself, I guessed at some of them, but thoroughly enjoyed the music.

And we heard Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 (in honor of the symphony’s 90 anniversary), “From the New World.” It was accompanied by visuals, shown on a huge screen hanging above the musicians, of landscape photographs and videos depicting the natural beauty of this country.

There are four movements. My favorite, musically, is movement number two, the Largo. The spiritual “Going Home” was adapted from this movement and every time I hear it I get teary thinking about my parents and wishing they were coming home even though I know they are, now, truly home.

At the end of the piece there was a long moment of silence as the maestro and his symphony orchestra shared that connection of a piece well done. Then they stirred and the audience stood and applauded to acknowledge the beauty of the entire experience.

But the biggest, most magical moments of the evening occurred during Aaron Diehl‘s performance of two Gershwin pieces, “I Got Rhythm” Variations and Rhapsody in Blue. He’s a jazz pianist who improvised during the cadenzas, those parts of the music where only the piano played. Maestro Lipsky said, during the lecture prior to the performance, that his blood pressure was higher than normal during rehearsals of this piece because “I have no idea when or how Aaron is going to come out of the cadenzas. Each rehearsal has been different.” And as the music unfurled above us, rollicking, bouncing off the walls and ceiling of Hill Auditorium, you could see both Lipsky and members of the orchestra listening intently, waiting for the cue to come back in as Diehl’s fingers flew over the piano keys.

I was lucky enough to have a seat in the hall where I could see the artist’s face as well as his hands. He exuded pure, sweet joy that manifested itself into magic that flowed from his fingers and into all our hearts. His hands moved so fast it’s a wonder that, by the end of Rhapsody, the keys hadn’t all but melted. And speaking of Rhapsody – be still my heart – the clarinet in the beginning of the piece almost made me swoon.

Both pieces were extraordinary. And as the second one was coming to an end you could feel the anticipation building in the audience. We were on our feet cheering before he lifted his hands from the keyboard, before the last note had a chance to fade. The sound from the audience exploded with a noise so loud I’m surprised we didn’t make the evening news. You’d have thought someone had just kicked the winning field goal in a championship football game.

So I guess Ann Arbor won twice yesterday. The football team did, in fact, win their game. And music lovers who were lucky enough to be sitting in Hill Auditorium won too. Thanks Ann Arbor Symphony, for giving us, yet again, a wonderful gift.

I haven’t stopped smiling.

A little night glow.