Letting go of who people used to be--wise words from Heidi Priebe

I saw this online today and it resonated with me, despite the sadness contained therein. Whether it's growing old(er), becoming ill, becoming tired, wanting to give up--it is a blessing if those roads that people end up going down are shared with those they love, if those who love them want to join them on their journeys. That is not always the case for all. And it might be good to remember that we ourselves can let go of the people we used to be. Sometimes we hang onto them for dear life, thinking that we have to remain a certain way, when in truth we do not. Sometimes the people we were no longer serve us. We do not have to be accountable to the people we were in our twenties, thirties, forties, and so on. We can let go of them and be who we are in the present. Best to come to terms with who we were in order to embrace who we are now. Because now is all we have. 

To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost.

But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness. 

~Heidi Priebe (from her book: This Is Me Letting You Go)

Odds and ends

We're watching The Rockford Files these days, one of the better American tv detective series from the 1970s that ran from 1974 to 1980. I remember watching it sporadically back then; my mother was a fan of the show and of James Garner who played private detective Jim Rockford, and sometimes I watched it with her. Here in Norway it's available for streaming on SkyShowtime. We're only seven episodes into the first season, and the guest stars have been Lindsey Wagner, Susan Strasberg, Sian Barbara Allen, Gretchen Corbett, Roger Davis, James Woods--all actresses and actors I remember well from the 1970s and 1980s. 

Last night we watched Where Eagles Dare, an action-packed WWII thriller from 1968 starring Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. I'd never seen it before, and it was well-worth watching. Pretty amazing scenes--fighting atop a cable car, climbing up the side of a castle--definitely not what you see everyday. It made me realize that some of the action films with Bruce Willis were definitely influenced by films such as this one. James Bond films as well. Enjoyable to watch, even though the body count in Where Eagles Dare was over the top. You don't forget for one minute that you're dealing with Nazi Germany and that the enemy has to be vanquished. 

I am drawn more and more to the older films and series, possibly because they are more enjoyable to watch than many of the newer films, even if they are less realistic. And if they deal with dark subject matter, they still manage not to sink into a morass of despair. I watch them and can then let them go after they're finished. I don't know if that's good or bad in the context of war films, but there are plenty of the latter that will leave you in a despairing frame of mind for a long time afterward. I watch them too, but it's hard to say I enjoy them. I can comment on them as quality films, well-acted films, etc. Realistic films. Where Eagles Dare is not a realistic film by any stretch of the imagination. In the same vein, we watched A Haunting in Venice two nights ago, Kenneth Branagh's new Agatha Christie film about Poirot who is now retired and living in Venice Italy. He is pulled out of retirement by an author friend of his to solve a presumed murder (that end up being multiple murders) in a spooky old house in Venice. Fun to watch, and again, the dark subject matter doesn't bring you down. I don't know how Agatha Christie did it, but she managed to write entertaining books about murders and murderers. Much like Dorothy Sayers. Both had a way of writing that drew you into the novels without burying you. 

Winter arrived early this past Monday. No one I know was ready for it psychologically. Too soon for snow and accumulation. Luckily most of the snow has melted due to the steady rain that we've had for the last twenty-four hours. But this has been the year for windiness. It seems like the wind has blown continually this year. I wish it would stop and I wish that the sun would shine more. But we're living in the era of climate change, so I'm not sure I can wish for anything of the sort.

Halloween was fun for the kids this year. But of course we always have the killjoys and the sourpusses, the ones who can't and won't let anyone off the hook for having a bit of fun. God forbid you should have some fun. How many articles I've read by young people/parents who criticize that 'American' Halloween has arrived in Norway and appears to have settled into the October repertoire. They resent having to spend money on costumes and candy. For the first, Halloween isn't originally an American holiday, but I'm not going to be bothered to get into that aspect of it. A young man I worked with years ago, who was studying to become a doctor, referred to some of his fellow students as people who walked around with rods up their rear ends. That's how I view some of the killjoys--stiff, uptight, unable to just 'let it go'. If they don't like it, no one else should, and by extension, no one else should be able to enjoy it.

Why can't more people just 'let it go' or 'live and let live?' Our society comments ad nauseam about everything under the sun. The more that gets criticized, the more I want to uphold and support all that gets criticized. I'm 'trassig' (defiant in English) that way. And I intend to remain defiant. 

And finally, I've switched off the ability to comment on my blog posts again due to a troll that leaves disturbing comments. Notice I refer to the troll as a 'that'. Not a 'who'. You never know these days. It could just be a robot or a non-human posing as a human. I thought I had set the filters correctly, perhaps I didn't. But if it's a human doing it, that person is an 'it' in my book. In any case, it's now a moot point. No more comments. 

Book review--The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3)

The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3) are books for pre-teens that don't disappoint in terms of their subject matter. Vainglorious egoist Ebenezer Tweezer has taken care of and served the huge beast in his attic with different kinds of food for over five hundred years. The beast has rewarded him with all of the material comforts one can think of as well with an elixir that keeps him young. But when the beast decides it wants to eat a child, Ebenezer finds himself in a bind, both morally and practically. Ebenezer goes on a search for a suitable child, and when he meets the bad-tempered orphan Bethany (that not even the orphanage wants), his dilemma is solved, or so he thinks. But when she comes to live with him, all hell breaks loose. A rude, destructive Bethany and an evil beast in the attic of Ebenezer's house can only lead to trouble. A lot of trouble. 

The author Jack Meggitt-Phillips has quite the imagination, and the books are easy to read, much as were JK Rowling's Harry Potter series of books. The pages just fly by. They are also surprising books given the world we live in at present; the beast decides it wants to eat a child after having developed a taste for humans. And before it gets around to Bethany, there are several humans that disappear down its gullet. But Bethany has other plans, once she finds out what's in store for her. Books 1-3 are a fun roller coaster ride into a strange world, where people (and parrots) travel via puddle portals, where rare parrots sing beautifully and lay eggs that contain all kinds of food, where material items vomited out by the beast have minds of their own. The author has been compared to Roald Dahl, which is apt, but I also found myself thinking of Neil Gaiman's books for children/young adults (The Ocean at the End of the Lane, Coraline). Book 4 remains, and from what I can judge of the ending for Book 3, we are moving toward a beast that has begun to develop a conscience after having spent time in prison and having its memory erased; it has begun to want to be a good beast. That will be an interesting ride. 

A good article that resonated with me

If you read one good article today, make it this one: Opinion | How to be Human - The New York Times (nytimes.com)  David Brooks, the author, writes about 'illuminators and diminishers', describing them in some detail in his article The Essential Skills for Being Human.      

The world sorely needs more illuminators and fewer diminishers. It needs more good listeners, more nurturers, more doers, and fewer narcissists and incessant talkers who never get around to doing anything at all. It needs more coaches who build others up, and fewer complainers and naggers who wear others down. It needs more people who care about others in the best way possible. 

You know when you've been in the presence of an illuminator. You feel energized (re-energized), hopeful, encouraged, and seen (as in recognized for who you are--validated). You feel as though a warm light, a warm ray of sunshine, has shone down upon you. You also know when you've been in the presence of a diminisher, because you feel de-energized, pessimistic, fearful, and invisible. Darkness has replaced the warm sunshine, and a cold wind blows. Diminishers are narcissists first; if you are looking for any type of validation from them, you can forget it. Your self-esteem around a diminisher will suffer a lot, which can be very detrimental for some people. 

Diminishers are controlling types, the type of people who say the following: 

• I wouldn't do it that way.  (in other words, Do it my way)
• I would never do that. You're wasting your time.  (I wouldn't waste my time)
• You shouldn't do that or feel that way.  (I don't do that or feel that way)
• It will never work out.  (So why bother? Don't waste your time)

Diminishers are only happy when others are fearful, or remain in a place of fear. Illuminators want to lift those around them out of fear into a place of light and peace. Illuminators compliment and build others up. Diminishers do the opposite. When you are happy about something, they are more likely to try to burst your balloon rather than let you be happy. They'll find a way to do it, to needle you, to get under your skin, to try to control you, to try and make you feel bad about yourself and what you do. They are invested in trying to bring you down. They try to control your choices, and when they realize that they cannot, they will try to whittle you 'down to size' if they are in the presence of someone strong enough to stand up to them. Why do diminishers behave the way they do? They diminish others because they suffer from envy, from dissatisfaction with their own lives, and from low self esteem, even if it seems the opposite is true when they are always talking about how great their own lives are. They are really focused on the lives of others, gossiping about them, complaining about them, trying to control them, competing with them in an unhealthy way, because their own lives border on unhappy or miserable. Does that mean we should have empathy for diminishers? Yes. But it does not mean that we should sacrifice our peace of mind and soul for them. Illuminators do not require your obedience, loyalty, servitude, or submissiveness. They understand what real love is, and they practice it.

I have been blessed in my own life to know many illuminators; I have wonderful longtime friends whom I love and who love me. My husband has been an illuminator for me and many people he's worked with--a true coach. But I also have experienced diminishers, and trust me, before you understand who and what they are, you will feel diminished by them. Less than your usual self. Until you regain your strength, your energy, your true sense of self. No one can destroy you once you know who you truly are. And sometimes being your true self is a lonely road when you're surrounded by diminishers. But it's a far better road, and in the end, you'll have outpaced them and left them behind in the dust. 

Saying goodbye to Gisele

My longtime friend since childhood, Gisele, passed away yesterday. She was sixty-six years old and had suffered with a degenerative neurological disease called multiple system atrophy for the past nine years. She was hospitalized this past weekend for Covid but in her weakened state due to her illness, was not able to recover from it. Since her diagnosis in 2014, we have tried to talk every Sunday, and for the most part, have managed to do so. We talked a lot about her situation and her feelings, my feelings and the feelings of friends and family. We talked about life, work, retirement, and traveling. She loved to travel and probably would have bought an apartment in Paris if she hadn't become ill. Her father was born in France and she had a special affinity for the country. 

Before she became ill, we traveled together and had fun together, with trips to Paris and Dublin among some of the more memorable trips. When her illness reached the point where it impaired her ability to drive, I would drive her around Westchester and we would revisit the haunts of our youth. She was an incredibly honest and open person and I learned a lot from her. Candid is the word I would use to describe her. She did not waste time, either hers or other's; her life and the lives of others mattered. She valued others. She chose her words and her advice carefully, but if something needed to be said, she could say it. I've known her for most of my life. We grew up together in the same neighborhood; she lived right around the corner. When we were teenagers, we hung out at her house after dinner during the summer months, talking and laughing and listening to WPLJ, the radio station with all the major pop and rock hits of the day. Her parents were welcoming and hospitable, much like mine. Her grandmother (father's mother) lived with them and had a black dog named Fluffy, who would go crazy with happiness when he met you at the door. Her father had a great sense of humor, which sometimes annoyed Gisele if his joking got too close for comfort. When I moved to Norway, he would sometimes greet me with 'How is it up there in Iceland'? He knew perfectly well where I lived, but he made me laugh, and she did too. How many times we talked about boyfriends, how many times we met in Manhattan to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, after which we would go to the museum restaurant to eat dessert and drink coffee. She and I had differing views about going to discos; I loved to go and dance, she did not. I know I dragged her to some discos a few times before she decided she didn't want to go anymore. As we got older, we talked about work problems (she was an elementary school teacher, I was a researcher). It was interesting that despite different work environments, many of the problems were the same--idiotic bosses, backbiting, gossiping colleagues. She never married or had children, mostly because she never met the right man with whom to have a family. We had our differences, but during a friendship that spanned over fifty years, one might expect that. She was honest about her own failings, even though it took some time to admit to them, as it does for us all. At her core she was a seeker of spiritual things, and I have some wonderful books that she gave me through the years that attest to that. I will miss her for always.  

My eulogy for Gisele: 

It’s been a long journey for Gisele, a journey into the mostly unknown. We who loved her joined her on that journey, offering support as best we could. Multiple system atrophy. MSA. No one had ever heard about it before or knew anything about it. But Gisele dealt with this new event in her life the way she dealt with most things—with courage and strength. She was brave and honest with herself and others. She was not afraid to talk about her illness, to research it, or to try different ways of tackling it. She knew that no ready cure for it existed, but she discovered that she could slow its progression if she made certain dietary adjustments, and she did and it worked for some time.

Today we have come to the end of one journey and the beginning of another. Gisele had faith, she prayed, and she believed in a heaven that existed for the faithful. During the past year, she told me that she was ready to meet God, and I know that she is with God and her parents now. There is so much I could say about her, about her love and loyalty and caring for others, about her sense of humor (inherited from her father) and her laugh. She was not her illness and she was adamant about that. She didn’t want to focus on what the illness had taken away from her, even though she grieved each loss while trying to accept them. But she lived in the present and chose not to focus on the past. She has a forever place in my heart.

Keeping us fearful, keeping us divided

I am getting to the point where I almost loathe all television news channels, especially the ones that broadcast 24/7. Every time one of them is on in my house, the ire, the fury, the doom, the gloom (and sometimes the naivete) pervade the atmosphere. I would mostly choose not to watch them, and for the most part, I don't. But it's not always my choice. News channels are basically purveyors of fear. The interviewers and interviewees don't help matters. By the time a half-hour news show has come to an end, it is easy to conclude that the world is a complete mess. That the world is going to hell in a handbasket. That no one knows how to behave anymore with respect--for their fellow man, the elderly, the young--take your pick. That everything was better when we were young (some things were because we weren't inundated with garbage from tv and social media 24/7), but not all things. 

We don't have to watch the news. We can read about what is going on in the world in newspapers, where we can choose to read the articles we want. The key word is choose. The better newspapers still have fairly well-researched articles that give some background about world conflicts, key issues, etc. I would rather read one excellent article about a particular political conflict (in the NY Times or The New Yorker) than watch tv news shows give me their opinions ad nauseam on who is the transgressor or the aggressor, the victimizer or the victim. I just want the background and the facts and I'll make up my own mind. I don't want the opinions of the newscasters, I want the news, without all the interviews that don't shed any light on the issues at hand. I don't want tv newscasters lecturing to me or screaming at me in an effort to brainwash me. Yelling at me to 'think like me' or 'think like my tv station that is paying me millions of dollars to feed you untruths and garbage' (think Tucker Carlson). The more I am pummeled by such idiocy, the stronger my stance that it is such programming that is ruining the world--for ratings and for money. If there is a hell, I hope that the people who promote such programming end up there.  

My question is--what is gained by keeping us, the public, fearful and divided? Do we tune in more to these news shows because of fear? What is it we fear? The unknown? The darkness in humanity? Are we missing out on the latest atrocities, the latest who did what or said what to whom? Do we need to feel 'alive' by tuning in? Does that give people a thrill? Do we like conflict and division? Do we need to have an enemy? Do we need to feel fear in order to keep our lives from getting or being boring? I think for many people, the news is about 'what happens over there', 'outside my sphere'. So we can think, how horrible, what's going on over there. But it's not happening here, so I can relax. I can feel consoled. I can continue to live in my little bubble. I can't do anything about what is going on elsewhere except be a voyeur, a spectator (willing or not). Then I can turn the tv off and go about my life until the next time I sit down for my dose of appalling. Perhaps better not to tune in at all. Because we need to live, to go about our lives with the awareness that yes, bad things can happen, but we cannot live in paralyzing fear. We can choose to be aware of what we let into our minds, be aware of what is going on in the world without being brainwashed or intimidated, take the necessary precautions, and then choose to live. That is the healthier choice. 

Autumn poem

 

Joseph Campbell quotes

·        We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.

·        The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.

·        The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

·        A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.

·        The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.

·        When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness.

·        We're so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it is all about.

·        Is the system going to flatten you out and deny you your humanity, or are you going to be able to make use of the system to the attainment of human purposes?

·        What each must seek in his life never was on land or sea. It is something out of his own unique potentiality for experience, something that never has been and never could have been experienced by anyone else.

 

Pay it forward--a little prayer

When I was in New York at the beginning of September, I reconnected with a college friend whom I haven't seen in years. We met in Manhattan and spent two happy days visiting the JP Morgan library, eating well, and catching up. She is a former minister (now happily retired), and has always read inspirational literature that she likes to share with others. This time around she passed on a book to me entitled The Only Little Prayer You Need by Debra Landwehr Engle. She'd read it and wanted me to have it. I've always been fairly skeptical of books that promise happiness, abundance, and wealth, if only you do this or that. But I gave this one a try because my friend recommended it. It was an easy read and had some interesting points to make, among them that many of our thoughts during an average day are fear-based (rather than love-based), leading us to behave in ways that keep ourselves protected, but still scared. But the flip side of choosing that protection is to choose a fear-based life. In other words, we're not living our lives in the fullest way possible, because if we choose how we act out of fear, we limit ourselves. It really is that simple. So the little prayer she shares is the following: 'Please heal my fear-based thoughts'. 

I got to thinking about the fears we live with each day. Mine often include worrying about some event several months in the future that I have planned or am planning, or to which I have been invited. I worry that I won't manage to get it all done, that something will happen to put a monkey wrench in the planning or execution, or that I won't really enjoy the show/party/dinner etc. to which I've been invited. There's a small little voice egging me on saying--stay home. I ignore it mostly, but it's there. Other fears include worrying about not having enough time to do the things I want to do, about my health issues or worrying about the health issues of loved ones, worrying that I'm not living up to my obligations, feeling guilty about that, or feeling guilty about a host of other things that I won't go into here, but that often have to do with what (I perceive) other people think and feel about something I'm doing (or not doing). Not being able to (or not really wanting to) live up to the expectations of others is a fear, a wholly irrational one, since I have been the dutiful child, student, employee, partner etc. for my entire life. I meet others' expectations and sometimes go beyond them, especially when I was working. I don't think I've ever been a slacker during my entire work life, or in my life generally. What surprises me is that the fear of not wanting to be a slacker has been a motivating and driving force my entire life. In that context, I wonder if I've ever really understood the word 'relaxation'. I have one friend who always tells me that I look so relaxed now that I've retired. I've never really thought about it, because in my mind, I retired from my job as a scientist, but I've filled my days with writing and other things that continue to drive me and to occupy my mind. The to-do list is long, even though I no longer work at a formal job. Sometimes I think, no wonder I'm tired half the time. I don't allow myself to really relax. I should, but I know it won't be easy to unlearn some ways of thinking. 

Engle lists some of the fear-based thoughts/feelings we all have and deal with--abandonment, feeling not good enough, guilt, judgment, conformity, control (not only over people but in terms of having to have things a certain way), need for power, jealousy, meanness, irritation, anger, pessimism, shame, scarcity--the list is long. She doesn't say that these thoughts/feelings are bad in and of themselves. It's when they get control over us that they become problematic. None of us are exempt from feeling them; it's part of the human condition. But they can interfere with having a peaceful and serene life--a happy life. Engle doesn't define happiness in terms of material wealth or the absence of pain and suffering. 

The key is to catch yourself having the fear-based thoughts. Once you can learn to be aware of them, you can begin the process of choosing thoughts that are rooted in love. Love-based thoughts/feelings as she describes them are acceptance, compassion, forgiveness, generosity, kindness, playfulness--among many others. But of course we're talking about a daily exercise--saying the prayer--and letting in the change we want in ourselves. I doubt it's easy. Since I finished her book, I've been trying to stay aware of my thoughts that are rooted in fear and saying the prayer in that moment. It's interesting to say the least. I am passing the book on to another woman whom I think might benefit from reading it. Pay it forward is a love-based thought (the recipient is free to read the book or not read it). Engle's overall point is that if all of us acted more on our love-based thoughts rather than fear-based thoughts, it would (perhaps) result in a better world, a more peaceful world. And given the current world situation, that might not be such a bad idea. 

Autumn garden update

Autumn is upon us. In truth, it was already upon us at the end of August in terms of how the garden behaved at that time. The pumpkins, potatoes, and tomatoes were finished growing by then. I've never had pumpkins turn orange that early; they were however quite small. I think the plants understood that there had been too much rain this summer and not enough warmth and sun. In order to grow in size, vegetable plants need warmth and sun. Not this summer.

The perennials and annuals did well, however. I'm not even sure why, because we had so much rain in July and August that I felt sure that there would be a lot of root rot, problems with mold, and other similar problems. There wasn't. Of course I'm very happy about that. The flowers grew quite high and seemed to do quite well. Go figure. Every time I think I understand how it all works, I understand that I don't. The old adage is true--you learn something new every day. 

Picking up the apples

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could. 

~Louise Erdrich  (from her book: The Painted Drum)

I am also literally reminded of how much fruit goes to waste in the community garden: apples, pears, plums, berries. There is bounty all around us, provided by nature, and so many people ignore it. Why? Why do we take these gifts for granted? I'll never understand it. It's hard work to pluck the fruit and to process it in different ways, but so rewarding when you take stock some weeks later of how much fruit you've managed to freeze down, make jams and jellies from, conserve (spiced pears come to mind, or plums in rum), or eat. Thanksgiving Day takes on a whole new meaning for me when I realize how much the early settlers depended on the bounty of the land for their survival. So while the analogy above is about apples as opportunities to live one's life in the most meaningful way possible, the actuality of picking up the apples also provides us with food to keep us alive. When you see how apples are produced, you will be less inclined to waste them by letting them lie on the ground or hang unpicked in the trees. And the reality of the bounty given to us will usher in new ways of looking at our life here on earth. So then we won't waste our lives or the bounty given us. 

Wise words about aging

It has become clear to me that aging itself does not bring wisdom. It often brings regression to childishness, dependency, and bitterness over lost opportunities. Only those who are still intellectually, emotionally, spiritually growing inherit the richness of aging. 

--James Hollis 

(excerpted from the book What Matters Most: Living a More Considered Life)

The freedom of the open road

I've been thinking about how good it felt to drive on the open highways of Pennsylvania and New York on my recent trip to the US. I normally don't enjoy driving too much anymore; I've done so much of it up through the years, and it was mostly stressful. I don't enjoy driving in Oslo at all, for so many reasons that I won't go into in this post. And driving into Manhattan from NJ during the 1980s in order to get to work was stomach-churning stress. Back then, there were no cell phones, so it was impossible to let anyone know where you were stuck in traffic or why you were going to be late. But that was then; now is another story. 

After visiting my sister in Milford PA, which is not far from Port Jervis NY, I left early in the morning, had toast and coffee for breakfast at a diner right outside Milford, and then got on the road in my little red Kia Soul. A great little car--solid, stable and comfortable to drive. It handled well and got good gas mileage. Driving early in the morning was a pleasant experience, especially on beautiful NY summer days like the one that I had the day I was driving. There are a lot of rolling hills and forested areas in that area of PA and NY. Very pretty, made more so by the early morning mist that was slowly driven away by the sun that was warming up the day. Blue skies, a few puffy clouds, and very few cars on the road at that time, at least on 84 and Route 6. By the time I merged onto 87, the traffic had picked up but the day was still lovely. But it didn't seem to matter, as I was relaxed. There was something about starting the driving day in that lovely corner of the world that made me feel free. Like the world was open for exploration. 

It was that feeling of freedom that has stayed with me since that early morning drive. It made me want to take a long cross-country trip, something I've never done. After high school, I went straight to college, and after college, to graduate school. From there, to work. I've never had or taken any sort of long break. I never felt the need to; I was too eager to start my career and to experience that part of life. And I did, over many years. I feel different now; I feel as though my life ahead is an open road, ready for exploration. It's a wonderful feeling. 

 

Back in the USA

Back in the USA during the first two weeks of September. My traveling plans this time around included visits with friends I haven’t seen in years. My first visit was with an old college friend, Cindy, whom I met many years ago in the modern dance class we took together. We became friends and ended up choreographing several dances for the end-of-year recitals that were open to the public. She and her husband have visited us in Oslo, but that’s a while ago now. We toured the JP Morgan library in Manhattan (she wanted to visit the library because she, like many tourists there the day we visited, had read the two recent books about Morgan's personal librarian, a woman named Belle da Costa Greene, who happened to be a black woman). After we visited the library, we walked to the High Line so that she could experience it, and then we went to see The Vessel, which is a unique and beautiful artistic structure located on the west side of Manhattan. We walked at least five miles that day in 93 degree F heat. It was good to get back to our hotel (the lovely Warwick Hotel) to relax and cool off. 

After I said goodbye to Cindy at Penn Station in Manhattan, I took an Amtrak train to Boston to visit my theology professor from Fordham University who just happens to be a (semi-retired from teaching but not from writing) Jesuit priest. He is in his early eighties, is living in the Boston suburbs at a retirement home, and is as intellectually active as ever. I stayed in a very pleasant guest room at the center (they have accommodations for guests), attended a 6:30 am mass in the center’s chapel together with many elderly priests (a very touching experience), and otherwise enjoyed some really rewarding conversations with my former teacher. I had so many questions for him, and surprisingly, he had some for me as well. I realized that there is more that unites us in this life than divides us. He chose a different path (no marriage and family) but an interesting one. As I get older, I am more curious about my faith, not less, and he answered some of my questions. It was good to see him after all these years. We have kept in touch by letters and emails for many years, but hadn’t seen each other until now, and I don’t know if I will see him again.

From Boston, I traveled onward by bus to Albany NY where my friend Maria lives. Jean drove up from Westchester, and we spent the weekend together, hanging out, talking, and eating well. We managed a trip to Herkimer to take a boat trip on the Erie Canal, something that I’ve always wanted to do, especially after I watched the NY Adventure Club’s virtual lecture about the history of the canal. I’ve written about that in previous posts (A New Yorker in Oslo: The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible--a New York Adventure Club webinar (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com) and A New Yorker in Oslo: The film--The Farmer Takes A Wife, from 1935 (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). 

Jean and I returned to her house for a couple of days, which I always look forward to; her house is like my second home and she is like family to me. I met her two new grandchildren for the second time, which was very nice. She and I met up with a biology teacher from our high school who is in her early eighties and who has dyed her short close-cropped hair a muted shade of purple. I don’t remember her as being a funny woman, but she is. We met for lunch in NJ together with another friend, Stef, who also attended the same high school (Our Lady of Victory in Dobbs Ferry NY).

From there I drove onward to the Milford PA area to get together with my sister Renata and her husband Tim. We enjoyed some nice days together just relaxing, and then I drove back to the Westchester area to visit my friend Gisele for an afternoon. She is unfortunately quite ill and tires easily. But it was wonderful to see her.

This has been my traveling year; my hoped-for goal was to visit with friends whom I’ve not seen in a while, and I've managed to do that. In December, I will meet up with another friend, Haika, whom I haven’t seen since 2010. We're planning to meet in Dresden Germany in order to visit the Striezelmarkt Christmas market there. It’s apparently the oldest one in Europe (Dresdner Striezelmarkt (dresden.de). I'm looking forward to experiencing it with her, as she's wanted to visit this market for quite a long time. 

I'm enjoying my travels here and there and want to do more traveling in Europe as well as the USA. I’m always amazed by the vastness of the USA and how things really do function fairly well in spite of that vastness. Some people tell me they are now content to stay in one place and not travel. Perhaps I will say that in ten years or so, but not now. 

September update on the weather and the garden

Weatherwise, this summer will go down in history as one of the worst since I moved here. It started off well in June, with sunny days and warm temperatures. The garden needed to be watered nearly every day, and the vegetables that I planted (pumpkin, zucchini, carrots, tomatoes and string beans) got off to a good start. Then came July, when all it did was rain. It was as though a gray cloud of bad weather settled in over Oslo. The statistics speak for themselves; it rained 22 of the 31 days in July in Oslo, and the 9 dry days were overcast with the sun peeking through every now and then. August wasn't much different, unfortunately; I don't have the stats for how many days it rained in August, but it must have rivaled July.

Today, September 4th, was a real summer day, sunny and warm with temperatures close to 80 degrees F. It was the first day that I wore a summer dress and went bare-legged. It was a pleasure to feel the warm sun on my skin and to walk along the boardwalk on the fjord this evening. I looked out over the water and could see the warm haze in the distance. That's how summer should be. We ate dinner at a seafood restaurant called Solsiden (Solsiden Restaurant); it's open only for the summer season. It was a perfect evening to be there. 

The garden decided to call it quits in early August and started preparing for autumn. The pumpkins ended up being quite small; there were five of them but none of them were larger than about four to five pounds. They were turning orange already at the end of July. The string bean plants stopped producing beans at the end of July. The tomato and cucumber plants did not do well in all the rain; the cucumbers were deformed and most of the tomatoes rotted on the vines. The potatoes were fine, likewise the zucchinis, which didn't seem to mind the lack of sun and warmth. The carrots were stubby. But all the berry bushes produced a lot of berries this year, including the blackberry bush. So we have a freezer full of different berries--black currants, red currants, blackberries, raspberries, and gooseberries. The blueberry bushes however did not produce any berries this year, and I'm not sure why. 

Each year in the garden is a revelation and a surprise; you learn something new each year and you never quite know how the gardening season will develop. This year it started off well, plateaued early, and faded out early. I'm hoping for a better summer weatherwise next year.