Author: Juliana Lightle

Grateful

/ Juliana Lightle / 2 Comments

Six days ago a huge storm struck, including eight inches of hail, a rain deluge, and high winds.  While the hail denuded many plants and bushes, the deluge made my drive a mess.

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Although it may be hard to determine the depth of the gravel and dirt and rocks from this photo, many of the rocks are bigger than the size of the fists of both my hands together, large enough to not want car tires to drive over them.  The gravel and dirt on the far side of the photo were at least eight inches deep.  Luckily I have a small tractor with a bucket and a helpful grandson.  He picked up the larger rocks and hauled all of them to the ditch created either side of the steep incline above the cement.  The rain had created a trench a foot deep in some places and exposed a pipe to the septic system. He filled parts of these trenches with the bigger rocks.

The next morning I used the tractor bucket to scoop up dirt and rocks and haul them to washed out places in the upper drive.  It was impossible to get it all with the bucket given some of the space is not very big or where it was possible to maneuver the tractor.  Therefore, I had to scoop it up and remove it with a shovel.  It took several tractor buckets full to get rid of what I had to shovel.  Finally, this morning I finished sweeping the rest of the fine sandstone off the cement.

After all this, why am I grateful?  There was no damage to my house.  The hail broke windows in some houses not far away, the wind blew light weight buildings into neighbors’ yards, and some people nearby had roof damage. I only have some tiny damage to the barn roof.  It could have been a lot worse.  I feel grateful to have escaped with just a messed up driveway.

Why do I feel even more grateful?  It occurred to me that I was able to clean up most of this except for my grandson’s help with the rocks–which I could have done but it was helpful.  I can still shovel gravel and dirt, a lot of it, lift and carry 50 pounds of horse feed from the vehicle across the barn–about 40 ft or more–and dump it in the container. I can work for hours doing this sort of stuff and feel fine afterwards. Yes, I feel grateful that I can continue to do all these things myself and what is more, usually enjoy doing them, feeling productive and independent.

When people ask me how I do all this, I usually tell them two things, yoga (as well as lots of other exercise mandatory if you live in the country and have animals) and heathy food.  My yoga practice began decades ago; I never stopped.  I practice it at least three times a week, sometimes more.  I stand on my head in the middle of the room several times a week.  My favorite foods are mostly vegetables.  The only carb I really like is rice. One of my dad’s sayings was, “You are what you eat.”  He still ran a farm at 90.  Yes, I admit, genes probably help, but without the exercise and self discipline, it probably is not enough.  I also meditate daily which does not require lots of time unless you want to spend lots of time doing it.  Even 15-30 minutes a day matter.  Exercise, yoga, healthy eating, meditating will all make for a happier person.  I promise.

 

Weekend Adventure

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This past weekend my family had to return to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to finish some family business.  While there, we decided to explore as well.  After completing what we needed to accomplish on Friday, we decided to check out the Tulsa Zoo located in Mohawk Park.  Tulsa Zoo contains lots of green, open spaces, and some extremely interesting architecture.  For example the Malayan tigers live in an area made to look like ancient, abandoned temples.

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Then there are animals I have never even heard of before like the siamangs.

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I was surprised to see komodo dragons.

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The intensity of the colors in the American flamingoes never cease to amaze.

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Apparently, the rest of my family liked them as well.

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The next day, Saturday, we decided to head east through the Cheyenne Nation to visit Natural Falls State Park. If we had known what it is really like, we would have taken a picnic.

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The area above where the falls drop off.

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Dripping Springs

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Just below the falls another stream enters and then flows down to a lake.

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The lake becomes larger as it flows farther.  It is a moderate to difficult hike getting to the lake.  Fishing is permitted here.  This park is also a good place to camp.

While gone, a giant thunderstorm arrived at my house with 8 inches of hail and three inches of rain in a short period.  Although the juniper trees look close to normal, most of the deciduous plants were denuded.  I have no idea whether they will recover.  A few of the small native flowers appear normal.  Luckily, my house was not damaged. However, this evening with my grandson’s help I will tackle the drive which is full of about 8 inches, in some places, of dirt, rocks, and gravel.  Luckily, after removing the larger rocks, I will get most of it with the tractor bucket and move it back to where it belongs.

Attitude

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Where I teach high school, my grandson attended basketball camp the last three mornings.  While I watched and read, I heard the coach give them a little lecture.  Apparently, some of the campers were dragging along, not even jogging as they moved across the court.  They kept pulling on their shorts, looking down, not listening or paying any attention to the instructions.  Coach got fed up, stopped everything, and pointed out their self defeating behaviors.

Basically, he told them that their actions appeared defeatist.  Act tired, lag behind, ignore instructions, and you set yourself up to lose. Your actions become who you are.  It seems these are also good pointers for all aspects of life.  Ability alone will not lead to accomplishment or even happiness.  Even the most talented musician, athlete, writer attains little without practice and determination.  Being the best a person can be takes work and a positive outlook.

San Jose, Costa Rica

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Two friends are headed to Costa Rica this summer.  While they will join a tour, they have a couple of days in San Jose before the tour begins.  I promised them I would suggest a few places they might enjoy, El Mercado, the downtown market,  the National Theatre, and the precolonial museum which is full of pre-Columbian gold and other ancient artifacts.  It remains my favorite but security there is tight.  To get in, you must surrender just about everything but your clothes.  You get a locker in which to place your valuables; the key to the locker is about all you can take with you.  As a consequence, no photos.  They do have a gift shop with quality items of all sorts including copies of many of the artifacts and jewelry.

Much of the downtown area is foot traffic only.  Vendors sell various goods on the street, you can wander El Mercado, in which various stalls for goods and food are located, and tour the National Theatre.  Inside the National Theatre next to the main lobby area is a lovely little restaurant, the perfect place for lunch.  The following are photos I took  in the National Theatre about one and one-half years ago.

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The first photo below is the highway from the airport into San Jose and the second shows a typical downtown pedestrian only area.

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I have been to Costa Rica in what in the US is summer and also at Christmastime.  Summer here is their rainy season so if you go then, be prepared for rain, sometimes a lot of it.  It is sort of a joke that on the east side of the main mountain chain, it is always the rainy season.  However, I have been there when it did not rain.  Take a sturdy, easy to lug around slicker with a hood because sooner or later it will rain.

The huge advantages of going this time of year are a lot fewer tourists and it is considerably cheaper.

 

 

Respect

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Because I teach high school, I am accustomed to teenagers, their loudness and capacity for rude behavior.  Nevertheless, because I live in ranching country with fences and gates, most know you do not go through another person’s fence or leave gates open.  The former is called trespassing.  The latter can thoughtlessly let out livestock and maybe get them killed.  If your neighbor’s dog keeps coming to your property and you call the sheriff’s office, they will simply tell you to shoot it.

Respect applies.  If you do not want people running over your property, obviously do not trespass on another’s.  Have respect for others as you would want them to respect you.

A big party full of teens started at my neighbor’s about five hours ago.  I watched them throwing rocks, running hither and yon,  like caged animals on the loose. A fence exists between my property and hers, a very obvious, country style fence with cedar and T-posts and five strands of wire.  It is not invisible.  I never installed no trespassing signs  because they would face her property and in some places exist at the edge of her back yard.  I would not be able to see them from my house or barn.  After this evening, I will reconsider.

Luckily, I was out feeding horses, doing chores, when several of the teens apparently decided to crawl through the fence and walk toward my house.  Because I was outside, I saw them and was able to tell them to get back across the fence.  If I had not been home, would they have kept walking, what might they have done?  Nothing, hopefully, but with 25 or perhaps more running around, who knows.  I kept thinking surely these young people know better.  Have they not been taught to respect others?  Where were the adults?  Did they even care?

This week I will go buy several no trespassing signs and install them at various places along the fence.  I feel sad to think I find this necessary.

Religion and Politics

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The two things some of us were taught never to discuss in social situations.  Reading The Silk Roads, A New History of the World, simply reaffirms why those who wrote the United States Constitution insisted on separating religion and politics.  Mixing the two leads to tyranny, war, misunderstanding, and a host of other ills. When did this mixture start?  Prehistory or at least the early recorded history.

Constantine, the Roman emperor,  converted for political purposes.  The Persians tolerated a wide variety of religions until it was no longer politically expedient; then they decided to persecute Christians and declare Zoastrianism as official.  When the barbarian hoards from the steppes started to overrun both the Roman and Persian Empires, they decided to cooperate–a huge change–and actually built a wall between the Black and Caspian Seas to stop the uncivilized.  Roman soldiers guarded the wall.  This helped Rome little, however, because the Visigoths sacked Rome.  The barbarians won.

And then there was Constantine’s Counsel of Nicea, held in 410, 420, 424.  The “eastern” bishops were not invited.  Therefore, the results applied only to what later became known as Roman Catholicism. Infighting among bishops, arguments over who was right and wrong continued, and on and on.  Eastern bishops saw the western teachings as heresy. The arguments mainly centered on the divinity, or lack thereof, of Jesus.

The western church focused on rooting out unofficial religious views, while the east focused on missionary activity.  The king of Yemen even became a Christian. Rulers converted, shifted allegiances, persecuted or tolerated, according to political expediency.

Little seems to have changed in 1500 years.

 

Bedtime Reading

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A habit I acquired years ago, perhaps even during my childhood, is reading just before I go to sleep.  Picking the right books remains key unless you want to stay up half the night either reading or thinking about something horrifying or depressing you’ve read. Lately, my reading has not been conducive to sweet dreams.  Earlier this week I finished Among the Ruins, an Iranian mystery of sorts, by Ausma Zehanat Khan.  It’s fiction but one of the characters writes letters from prison which are anything but cheery.  Now I am reading the Pulitzer Prize winner, The Return.  Since Hisham Matar never saw his father again after he was captured and hauled off to a Libyan prison, sleep inducing it is not.  Last night I decided perhaps for bedtime I needed to find something not exactly boring but somewhat less stimulating.  It may take me all summer given that The Silk Roads, A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan is 505 pages.  If I get bored with that, I can go back to two books I reread off and on and save for bedtime reading, When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams and Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, Selected Works translated by Edith Grossman.  Both inspire reflection and contemplation.  For those who do not know Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, she lived in Mexico in the 1600s.  She became famous for her intellectual capacity, her poetry, and was referred to as “the Phoenix of Mexico” when women rarely rose to such heights.

What are you reading this summer?

 

Hazy, Lazy Days

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The words and tune to this old song float through my brain.  Summer.  Early morning yoga, coffee, horses fed, flowers watered, a lazy lunch:  salad with feta, black beans with caramelized onions.  Slouched, reading a book (The Return, Hasham Matar) on the sofa, feet crossed on edge of coffee table, patio doors open, I hear birdsong, the whir of black fans in the ceiling sea of white.  Summer. Nap time.  Awaken slowly, eyes watching cotton candy clouds barely move across an azure sky.  Summer.

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Two Kinds of People

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The novel I finished yesterday described one of the characters as “the kind of man who would find his place anywhere because of how he interpreted the world.”  He was the kind of man who saw the world not as a system of barriers but rather a place of common ground, a man with an openness to the world, an openness to the unfamiliar, a man who welcomed the unknown.

This made me think of people I know and how they react, to where they want to travel, if at all, to what they desire to explore, to know.  Many of my friends travel little and rarely, if ever, outside the United States.  Others, like me, desire to visit places and cultures totally different, unfamiliar, to “know” the unknown.

This lead me to question how these two different types of people come to be.  In my case perhaps it started with family road trips, the earliest of which occurred when I was three and my dad drove from northwest Missouri all the way to Monterey, Mexico, and back.  I still love road trips.

Which kind of person are you?  Why?  Is it upbringing, heredity, environment?