musings | Change Is Hard

August 15, 2014
by dawnkinster 27 Comments

Wishing

I’ve been thinking a lot about retirement lately. To be honest I’ve been thinking a lot about retirement for years. And years. But I’m really considering it now. What it would mean to us financially, emotionally, as a couple, to me individually. It’s hard not to dream of the freedom that retirement advertises.

But I wonder.

Will it really be freedom? Or will it come with it’s own set of worries and frustrations? Perhaps the grass is greener. But am I sure?

Certainly there are folks in retirement wishing for a good job. One that would ease up the crush of bill paying, make giving gifts easier, allow them to donate to their favorite charities. But there are other retired folks who wake up happy every day choosing how to spend their waking hours. Work in the garden or cook? Take a nap in the middle of the afternoon? Stay up till midnight? Head out on an adventure and visit friends?

I think that’s what I’d want to do first, head out on an adventure. Pack up Katie and come visit some of you, explore a little, relax a little, see a little.

Smile. A lot.

July 29, 2014
by dawnkinster 26 Comments

What to think, whose side to support.

I can’t watch TV anymore.

Round the clock news is filled with plane crashes and carjackings and runaways and murder trials and even worse, war. Up close and personal reports of war and the ordinary people that seem to be paying the price for leadership failure. Nonstop footage of dead and dying children. Interviews with mothers and fathers – you don’t have to speak their language to know what they are saying. To feel their grief.

Last night Anderson Cooper asked an onsite reporter the question I wanted to ask; where do regular people go to get away from the falling bombs? Nowhere is safe was the response from the corespondent wearing his helmet and bullet proof vest, instinctively flinching as incoming missiles shake the earth and light up the sky behind him.

Nowhere is safe.

I know I am not educated enough in the history behind the Palestine/Israeli conflict. It is generations deep and I don’t understand where it all comes from. But I listen to the leaders on each side being interviewed and I don’t see how it can be resolved. Everyone is so entrenched in their opinion of who is right and who is wrong. No one seems to be willing to listen to the other side. The cease fires expire or are broken, more warning sirens scream, more illumination missiles are shot into the air above Gaza, more people flee. Some don’t get away in time.

And I post pictures of baby deer and Katie and walks in the park and flowers in the garden and try not to think about the reality of life 7 or 8 hours ahead of my own time zone. Because I don’t know what to think about all of it; I can’t even talk about it intelligently. But I can say that it feels wrong – wrong on both sides. And that innocent people are dying and maybe it’s not our problem but then again I think maybe it is.

Not watching TV feels wrong too.

I am conflicted myself, not sure if I want to understand more of something that seems so unresolvable, but thinking I should learn about something so important. And then feeling overwhelmed by all the important things in the world that I don’t understand.

Which brings me full circle. I don’t know what to think.

July 23, 2014
by dawnkinster 37 Comments

1500

I’ve been blogging a long time. Since September 2006. Some of you have actually read every entry, maybe even commented on most of them. Thank you for that, thank you if you’ve just read some of them.

The blog began when I quit my job and went back to school at age 50, working on a masters degree in Information Sciences, what used to be Library Science. I met a young man named Spike during my first semester. He was into technology and was putting together a host server. He asked me if I wanted to blog. I didn’t know what a blog was, but I like to write and I liked the idea of having a place to publish some thoughts. So he set me up.

It was kind of interesting and definitely fun to be back in school at my age with a bunch of 20 somethings. I felt both younger than my age and older, depending on the moment. I’d often forget I was so much older during discussions, but then someone would say something or do something and I’d realize I was old enough to be their parent. Perhaps their grandparent. In group projects I felt like their mother. I lent money to them to get home during stormy nights. I brought cake to the class with the snack break. I reminded them repeatedly that this or that assignment was not the end of the world, that there were bigger issues in real life. I told them often to enjoy the freedom that being in school affords. I luxuriated in that freedom myself, loving the public bus rides, the walks between classes, the work in public libraries where stories were always presenting themselves.

I especially like being in school at the university that both parents attended, graduated from, with most of my classes in the building my dad studied chemistry more than a half century previously. I liked walking the stairs he climbed. I said hello to them as I passed the house he grew up in. I thought about them when I wandered near the river.

So I wrote about school, and life, and my folks. And when I graduated in 2008 I wondered if maybe I should just close the blog down. After all, I was no longer an interesting student. I was back in real life and it wasn’t all that exciting. But I still liked to write, and I had a few readers, and while I tried to figure out what the blog was, it was still a place for me to put thoughts. To get support on life’s challenges. To offer my own support to others. To explore ideas. To play with the dog. To express sadness and joy sometimes in the same post.

1500 posts later I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. And whether or not I will ever make a difference. And if any of it matters. Social media has changed. Now there’s Facebook and twitter and a whole lot more that I don’t even know about. And going into the future I suppose blogging will become even more old fashioned. On the other hand blogging allows people to express complex, more complete thoughts than Facebook or twitter. It slows people down for a bit longer, makes them think a bit more. It can be elegant. And thoughtful.

Or not.

So I’ve rambled enough. This post was supposed to be something significant, and here it is all nostalgic about my student life. But that was significant. And I’m glad I did it even though I didn’t get to work full time at a public library. I’m glad I did it for lots of reasons…

…one of which is because it led me to all of you.

June 24, 2014
by dawnkinster 22 Comments

Active retirement

A few weeks ago, while driving north for the Great Camping Adventure with Katie, I noticed a car. We passed each other a few times. It was the same make and model and even color as my car. But that’s not what made me notice it. What was special about the car was this:

Adventure mobile

Perched on the top were two kayaks, on the back hung two bicycles. It seemed to epitomize the kind of retirement I hope my husband and I have. The kind where you explore and enjoy and especially stay active.

I glanced at the couple in the car once when they passed me. Seemed to be people pretty much like myself. I wished them well and forgot about them. Until I pulled into a fast food drive through line and saw the car parked next door at another fast food restaurant. So once I got my taco I swung over there, parked, walked over and snapped the picture. Turning I realized the couple was sitting at an outdoor table looking alarmed.

So I walked over to them, smiling, and told them I wanted to be them when I grew up. Old enough to be retired, young enough to enjoy it and off on adventures every weekend with your life partner. She smiled, pointed at her companion and said “Him? We just met a few months ago!” Then we all had a good laugh.

But in my heart I still hope I get to have that kind of retirement. The kind with two kayaks on the roof, two bikes on the back, two voices laughing in the front seats.

Happy trails everyone.

Follow the road.

June 16, 2014
by dawnkinster 12 Comments

Safety update. And turtles

Who you lookin at?

Today was a busy day as volunteers, including some of you, made phone calls to Senators in Washington, asking them to consider safety before profits — to strike down the Collins Amendment that would gut the Hours of Service Rule just instituted last summer, and to watch out for amendments that would prohibit any attempt at raising trucking company’s minimum liability insurance requirements. And as the day went on some Senators stood up and voiced concern over trucking regulations. In particular there is now another amendment, the Booker-Menendez Amendment (both are Democratic Senators out of New Jersey) that would strike down the dangerous part of the Collins amendment; the part that would cause the hours truckers are allowed to work to increase back to 82 a week. The Booker-Menedez Amendment would allow a study of the ‘unintended effects of two consecutive nights off’ for drivers who work 70 hours or more a week but would not make changes in the rule until after that study was complete. Seems like a good compromise to me. I called my Senators again late this afternoon and asked them to cosponsor that amendment. We’ll see.

I’ll keep you posted. I truly appreciate all your support, in all its different manifestations, from calls to writing, to hugs, to concern. It’s all important. And the more you talk about it with friends the better chance we have of making our politicians understand the importance of not letting profits compromise safety.

Scoping the lay of the land.

Meanwhile. I came home to find a Blanding Turtle (no I didn’t know the name, but a friend on Facebook did!) in my driveway. You know those things can move pretty fast when they want to. By the time I got inside and hooked the dog up for a walk to the mailbox it was nowhere to be seen. But I knew where it was, under some shrubs along the edge of the driveway. Because Katie wanted to go over there really bad. But I wouldn’t let her and we high tailed it back inside. Almost instantly I noticed it had moved up to the garage and was looking around. I think she’s trying to decide where to lay eggs. I watched and took pictures through a tiny bit of beveled glass in the front door.

She walked all the way up the driveway, along the garage door, then back past the front porch and under the car. Who knows where she went after that, but there’s a lot of garden for her to choose from. Katie and I went out on the deck to watch and listen to the birds. I fell asleep until the frogs began to sing. It would be a good night to camp out but sheer exhaustion precludes me from lugging the tent out and setting it up. Plus tomorrow is another day.

I hope Capital Hill sees fit to make the right decisions tomorrow. I hope they aren’t like my wandering turtle, just exploring and looking and ending up headed right back where they came from. Or hiding under a metaphoric car.

Wandering off to look for better places.

I’ll let you know. For tonight I’m pulling my head into my shell and getting some shuteye.

Katie says night too.

But Mama, I don’t want to go to bed yet!

May 7, 2014
by dawnkinster 23 Comments

Approaching Mother’s Day

Marsh marigold glow

Earlier this week the grocery store cashier offered me a coupon for wiring flowers to my mother. The offer shocked me, not because I’m adverse to discounts, but because I hadn’t realized Mother’s Day was coming up. And because of course no florist will wire flowers to heaven. I absently refused the coupon offer and walked out to the car with my groceries, thinking about flowers and Mom and the festive day coming up.

Most years of late I’ve been successful at blocking Mother’s Day out, ignoring the advertisements and the rows and rows of cards with pink envelopes. I can be genuinely happy for coworkers excitedly talking of brunches and gifts. Progress.

This year I recognize even more progress as I think without pain of the flowers we used to give my Mom for Mother’s Day. Every year we (or she, I don’t remember) picked out flats of petunias and called them our Mother’s Day gift to her.

And I remember other flowers too, the springs we dug up marsh marigolds from the swamp over in the woods and lugged them home in buckets to be planted along the lake shore at home. I don’t really know if she wanted marsh marigolds, or us covered in mud for that matter, but she always seemed happy to see them.

And then this morning I heard a radio commercial for chocolate covered strawberries that had to be ordered by tonight in order for delivery to Mom before Sunday. It was a long ad, filled with descriptions of juicy strawberries dipped in dark chocolate and sprinkled with nuts.

The commercial made the strawberries sound good, but it mostly reminded me of my Mom standing in the middle of a strawberry patch, and the way that first warm, ripe strawberry tasted right from the field. All the dark chocolate and nuts in the world will never make that advertised strawberry taste as good as the ones we ate under the hot summer sun with Mom all those years ago.

So as we approach this Mother’s Day I think of Mom, and how happy she was with petunias and marsh marigolds and strawberries warmed in the sun. I bet most mothers are the same. Show up with a handful of dandelions and they’d be happy.

To all the mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day. And to those of you with mothers still on this earth take a moment and thank them. A flat of petunias might be just the thing.

Miss you Mom.

April 1, 2014
by dawnkinster 20 Comments

Pick a note

Most of you know I play in a community band. We practice on Tuesday nights. Tonight I was feeling guilty for not practicing during the week, and tired from a crazy day at work. I was thinking that maybe this one time it would be OK not to go to band. But I had music my husband had pulled from the music library that the director had requested, and I couldn’t just drop that off and run. So I stayed.

And I have to say, this evening, like every Tuesday night, I was glad I stayed to play. I let the music pick up my spirits, enjoyed the challenge of getting a little bit better at the parts I should have practiced, heard new rhythms and underlying phrases of other sections, figured out how some of it went together. I always leave rehearsal feeling better than I did going in and there’s something worthwhile in that alone.

I’m so lucky to have this outlet, a place to let the rest of the world go and just have fun; I don’t think most adults can say they have something similar. Certainly as we get older we get fewer opportunities to do something that other people actually applaud for. Music does that for me and don’t think for a minute I don’t appreciate it. Even when our audience is small I appreciate the fact they come out and clap enthusiastically. It makes those of us playing feel young again, makes us smile, makes us glad we could share the fun we get to enjoy every Tuesday night.

Tonight she handed out a new piece of music, something unique, with sounds not classical or jazz or rag. It is called “Africa: Ceremony, Song and Ritual” composed by Robert W Smith. You can listen to it here. It’s almost 9 minutes but worth the time.

At about 46 seconds in you’ll hear a weird sound, hard to describe, sort of like a metal whistle but not. Our tympani player is a high school student, and this instrument was in his part but he didn’t know what it was. The director found it for him, and he asked how to play it. It’s a metal rectangle with a piece sticking up and a wire of some sort. I can’t say I got a good look at it. She told him how to play it, he tried it out and then he grinned from ear to ear the whole rest of the piece. It was so neat to see a high school student enthralled with learning something new. I talked to him about it at the break, as he was practicing different effects out in the hall. He said it was dangerous, you could get your finger caught in it. I said it was dangerous because if it got played at the wrong moment everyone would know. He started laughing and said that was true about everything he played. Good point.

But the part in my music that made me stop, almost made me laugh out loud in the middle of rehearsal was this. Do you see it? At measure 180?

It says ‘pick a note.’ This is what went through my mind the first time we got to this measure: “Pick a note? What note? Should it be in the key we’re in? Probably not, probably it should be something weird, totally out of character. What would that be?”

It took me so long to analyze those three words that I missed playing anything at all during the two measures. As did most of the band. We all sort of petered out as our minds tried to comprehend that we could choose any note we wanted. For two whole measures we were free, and what we ended up doing was nothing much at all. I’m sure by next week we will have all chosen our note and the sound will be…well…interesting. On the recording these two measures start at 8 minutes and 37 seconds. You can decide for yourselves how strange and/or cool it sounds.

See? This is the kind of fun we have on Tuesday nights. We get to do different things, interact with different people. I wish everyone could do something just for themselves once a week. The world would be a better place.

Indulge yourselves. Find your passion. Grow a little, learn a little, meet a few more interesting people. You won’t be sorry.

And I promise, if I can get there, I’ll come clap for you.

March 24, 2014
by dawnkinster 25 Comments

Of summer

Let’s talk of things summer now. Let’s skip right past the waylaid spring and move right into the hot muggy days of summer, when the frogs sing at night and the lightening bugs glow, when the grass is damp beneath bare feet and the windows stay open all day. Yes, let’s talk of summer. Of yellow gold finches and monarch butterflies and roses blooming and summer evenings that stretch into forever.

They are turning yellow!

One of my favorite things about summer is ice cream. What? You thought I was going to continue on about warm dark nights and low hanging stars? Heck no. This is about ice cream!

I’ve always said there is no bad ice cream. There is cheap ice cream and expensive ice cream, low fat, low sugar and the really good stuff made out on the farm where the cows live just yards away. But there’s no such thing as bad ice cream.

Last May I met an older gentleman in Washington DC who thought along the same lines as me when it came to ice cream. We were seated across from each other during the first meal of the conference, getting to know each other, sharing our stories. The meal came to an end and the waiter asked if anyone was having dessert. Normally I decline, but the gentleman across the table asked if they had any ice cream. As the waiter listed the meager options the elderly man said “There’s no such thing as bad ice cream, I’ll have the chocolate.” My head snapped up and I responded, “That’s what I always say!” We high-fived each other across the table and I ordered ice cream too.

I thought I’d always feel that way about ice cream. Until this week. This week I happened upon this at the grocery store, sitting innocently in the freezer next to other icy treats.

Looks yummy.

150 calories for the whole pint. “Huh” I thought. “There’s no such thing as bad ice cream, and 150 calories for the whole thing?” Into the cart it went. At home I doled out a measly couple of tablespoons because I was too excited to read the directions that said let it stand out for ten minutes before serving and it was rock hard. Chocolate peanut butter. No such thing as bad ice cream, yep, this was going to be good.

It tasted faintly of something. Perhaps chocolate, certainly not peanut butter. There was a memory of chocolate if you concentrated real hard, but in reality it tasted more like weak, cold dishwater. Distinctly soapy. I tried again the next night, another couple of table spoons, but I ended up tossing it and this post is my public service announcement. Hard as it is to believe, there can be bad ice cream. This is it.

Don’t waste your money.

Summer was meant to be enjoyed. Head out to the dairy farm for your ice cream. You won’t regret it.

We make good ice cream here.

March 3, 2014
by dawnkinster 11 Comments

Enough already! It’s March for pete’s sake!

One more time.

When I was a kid I always felt like winter was half way over at Christmas. I know. It is not. But that’s the way I felt back then, a million years ago and light years away from this winter. Oh yes, by Christmas you were half way home, you only had to get through January, then it was February and February was short, right? And then it was March and everyone knows that March is spring! Sure it might snow a couple of times, but the sun shone and the snow melted and you got days and days of warmth creeping back into your bones.

Right.

The record snowfall in our area of Michigan is 93.6 inches set in 1881. No one around today would remember that snowy winter, and no one back then would be commuting to work in bumper to bumper traffic on a freeway in all that snow. No, this winter, though it will probably end up being the second snowiest winter, is plenty winter enough for me. People seem to hope we break the record – we’re only ten inches away now at 83.7 inches (that’s 212.60 centimeters for those of you outside the US). Wouldn’t that be cool, people say.

It’s pretty though.

What I say is that 83.7 inches is plenty enough of a record for me. It’s the most snow we’ve had here in my lifetime and I don’t need to experience ten more inches of snow this winter. In fact I’d be fine if this last snowfall, this last four or five inches received on Saturday night was it. Done. Finished. No more. No way. No how. I’m hoping that I’ve put the snowblower away for the last time this year, felt the last of the cold wet stuff fall down my neck in the middle of the night when I’m out with Katie, shoveled my last chunk of ice away from the mailbox. That’s what I’m hoping.

Even Katie thinks this is enough snow. It’s higher than she is tall. She can’t play in it, won’t squat in it, can’t chase a squirrel across it. There is no reason that either of us can think of to keep it around. So if it’s OK with all of you, we’d like to request that it begin to melt, slowly, starting tomorrow.

The only spot to play is the driveway!

Cause somewhere under all this are little buds of green things just waiting to show us their stuff, there are little peepers waiting to sing and fish waiting to be caught. Somewhere under all of this is spring, and it can’t get here soon enough to satisfy me.

How about you?

February 22, 2014
by dawnkinster 27 Comments

Reflections

Just last Saturday I was winging my way over snow packed fields toward sunshine and family. Katie was safe at the kennel, work was a memory. I enjoyed my time with family relaxing for a long weekend and we did a lot of fun stuff, some of which you’ve seen on Facebook; climbed the fire tower, went for a boat ride, ate, slept, read. It was lovely.

I knew this week would be a challenge; the combination of a dog home alone all day, a busy full time job and two community band concerts made for interesting logistics. I flew home Tuesday afternoon, landing at 5 which gave me just enough time to stop at the house, grab the clarinet and head off to our last rehearsal before the concert Friday night, followed by our big community band festival in a town an hour away Saturday morning.

I thought I had things all figured out. I had permission to leave work early on Wednesday to get Katie out of the kennel before they closed at 5 p.m. I had a dog walker scheduled to come to the house and play with her every workday. I had permission to leave work early on Friday so that I could go home, feed her, let her out and still make it back to town for our concert that evening. Yep. I’m a master at making lists and planning. And you know what they say about the best laid plans.

They say that I didn’t adequately factor in Katie. That’s what they say.

So let me tell you about the last four days. Settle in. This might take awhile.

Wednesday afternoon I picked Katie up from the kennel about 4:30. They said she was perfect, liked her food, didn’t mind her meds (she was finishing up antibiotics for an urinary tract infection), liked to go outside, liked attention. That’s my girl. I took her to the doggie bathroom before we drove home hoping to avoid a 30 minute howling session. She peed. We got in the car and she howled the whole way home in her voice hoarse from barking at the kennel for 6 straight days. At home she was a little terror, barking at me, running around checking stuff out, barking at me, wanting to go out, wanting to come in, barking at me, wanting to go out again but not doing anything while we were out. Did I mention barking at me? Wednesday night I was up and taking her out several times during the night. I was exhausted at work on Thursday.

Thursday night after work I was settling in for the evening, glad I was home after a drive through sleet on icy roads. Thankful I didn’t have any reason to go out in that weather again. Then I noticed Katie standing still, head up against a wall panting. Not normal. I took her out, but nothing. I figured maybe she was tired from her stressful week. Well, so was I. Maybe we’d take a nap. I carried her into the bedroom and she lay on my pillow slowly, as though it pained her to lay down. Then she got up and walked carefully to the end of the bed and gingerly lowered herself again. Then she got up and tried a new spot, walking stiffly, inching her way down. This was not normal. I picked her up and noticed the whole back end of her was trembling. Out on the sofa and she sat on a pillow leaning against the back of the sofa staring at me. Now her whole body was trembling. Not good. So we went to the emergency vet, a long way away, through the sleet on ice covered roads.

The vet was busy, with two critical dogs coming in after us. We waited a few hours, with Katie panting next to me on the bench, moving as little as possible. Finally they took her back and had someone look at her, drew blood, did xrays and gave her pain meds. After the pain meds kicked in she was a sleepy but happy camper. None of the tests were entirely conclusive so I left her there overnight for an ultrasound in the morning and drove home on the ice covered roads, making it to bed close to 1 a.m.

Friday I went to work thinking they’d be releasing her to me sometime in the afternoon. I had a concert to do that evening and I didn’t know how I was going to go get her, get her home and settled and then leave her to go perform. But I figured it would all work out. Turns out they wanted to keep her all afternoon, so I arranged to stop by after the concert (love these 24 hour emergency clinics!) to see if she was being released or not and to discuss the ultrasound findings. The concert went well, the ultrasound findings were not particularly conclusive. But there was evidence of a slightly inflamed pancreas and in combination with high white blood cells they figured it was pancreatitis. They had sent out another blood sample to an outside lab to confirm, but I could take her home.

Katie was very happy to be home and it took awhile to settle her down. Actually she never really settled down and we were up and down all night. At one point I put her in her crate at the other end of the house, went back to bed and closed the bedroom door. I lay down and I could feel my heart beating, not just in my chest but I was aware of the pulse at the ends of my fingers and toes and the intense overall exhaustion in my legs, neck arms and shoulders. I lay there and wondered if a person could just get so tired that their heart burst. I was OK if it did. Katie howled from her crate for an hour.

Eventually I just got up and got ready for the Saturday morning concert. She seemed normal but I didn’t trust her enough to leave her loose in the house. I hadn’t been able to get her to pee for several hours. Her path through the snow was covered in ice and she didn’t like it. Being a princess she just decided to hold it until there were better conditions in which to pee. Unfortunately the snow in the yard is higher than my knees, so the path is all there is for her. So we were at loggerheads.

Finally I started packing the car with concert stuff, instrument, music, clothes, purse…she watched me with narrowed eyes. She’d already been packed away in the car and delivered to a kennel, then a hospital. You could see the wheels in her head turning. I turned to her, planning to put her into her crate since she hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet. She backed up. No way was she getting in that car with her Mama. She didn’t know what hellish place I might be taking her this time! So I just said “Katie! Crate!” and she joyfully trotted in, sat on her pillow and all but told me “Have a nice day Mama, I’ll wait for you right here!” And so she did.

Our concert this morning went great, it was wonderful, such a relief to immerse myself in something that didn’t have dog hair, blood tests, or poop involved. We played a slow piece, “Seal Lullaby” by Eric Whitacre that just about had me in tears. The lyrics:

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.

Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas

I just thought about Katie waiting in her crate and all the stress and emotion we’d been through in the last two days, and that hopefully we were almost through with the bad stuff. Our band played this beautifully, as beautifully as the link above. Give it a listen. I think our conductor had tears in her eyes too as the last notes slipped away. Those are amazing moments, when they happen, musical moments to treasure. I would have stayed and listened to other bands as I know people in several of them from across the state, but Katie needed me so I hurried home. As I merged onto the freeway a bright orange truck was going the other way. “Hey Dad” I thought and smiled. Then I turned up the radio and sang all the way home.

She was all happy face and crazy tail when I got home, none the worse for wear for spending a few hours in her crate napping. I called the vet and her test results for pancreatitis came back so low that we can’t really say she has that problem. Though seriously she had some sort of problem Thursday night. So there is more detective work to be done, but for now she’s happy. But boy do I need a nap. A good long nap. I guess I’ll play Seal Lullaby again and see if she and I can get some shuteye.

She doesn’t seem to be in the mood. Princesses are like that you know.

Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: musings