Traveling along the southeast coast of England

We've always wanted to tour the southeast coast of England after having watched some tv shows that detailed different train trips along this coast, and decided to do the trip by car rather than train at the beginning of July. We planned it such that once we arrived in Portsmouth, we would travel along the coastal roads (basically route 259) to Brighton and Dover. Our start point was Oslo; we took the overnight car ferry from Oslo to Kiel, drove westward through Germany into the Netherlands (Holland) to Rotterdam, where we took the overnight car ferry from Hook of Holland (Stena Brittanica) to Harwich UK. From there we drove to Portsmouth where we stayed at the Red Lion inn/pub for three nights. We then drove onward to Brighton, where we stayed at the King's Hotel for two nights, and then we drove along the coastal road to Hastings where we stopped at the First In, Last Out pub for lunch. We then drove onward to Dover where we stayed at the Royal Oak inn/pub for two nights. Our trip back to Norway was via the Eurotunnel in Folkestone and then a long drive through Germany up to Kiel, where we took the overnight car ferry back to Oslo. 

We explored Portsmouth the first day we were there; our hotel location was right across the street from the bus connection to the downtown. Portsmouth is an old port city with a long naval history; it has been a major Royal Navy dockyard and base since the 12th century, and is known for the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard. We walked quite a bit around the downtown part of the city, as we always do when we come to new places, and then headed out toward the harbor area, where we ate lunch and walked along the harbor boardwalk. The ferries that travel to the Isle of Wight leave from this area, and we decided to take the catamaran out to the Isle of Wight on one of the days we were there. The Isle of Wight is such a beautiful place, well-worth visiting; we took a bus tour around a good portion of the island. On another day, we took a trip to Salisbury to see the old cathedral there, and then to Bath so that we could visit the Roman Baths (I've seen them but my husband had not). Unfortunately the city was inundated with tourists and the wait to get into the baths was around two hours, so we opted not to do the tour. But it was a gorgeous day in England so we weren't that disappointed. 

We then drove on to Brighton, where we stayed for two nights. The day we arrived, we walked for miles around the city, along the beachfront and then into the city itself. My husband took a swim in the ocean; the water was fairly warm. The beach is not composed of sand, but of fine water-worn pebbles. Unfortunately, it was extremely painful to walk on them (at least for me) as I discovered when I walked down to the water's edge, so I ended up sitting on the beach watching my husband swim. We ate lunch and dinner at Pinello's restaurant (very good Italian food), a restaurant very near the hotel. The following day we took a bus tour around the city, which was smart because it rained that day and we were inside the bus when the torrential rains hit. But they didn't last long and when we got off the bus we walked along the Brighton Palace Pier, which is a type of amusement park on the pier, with arcades, shops, casinos, rides, cafes and deck chairs. Fun to see, but mostly for the younger crowd. Again we ate dinner at Pinello's and met a young couple (Darren and Jasmine) and their three children. It was nice to talk to them and we traded contact info on the off chance that they visit Oslo at some point. 

The following day we drove along the coastal road to Hastings where we had a great pub lunch at the First In, Last Out pub (of Foyle's War fame according to my husband). We then drove on to Dover where we stayed two nights. The first day we walked around the area of Dover where the hotel was; there was a very lovely park/garden nearby called Kearsney Parks/Russell Gardens that we spent some time in walking around. The following day we visited Dover Castle and the White Cliffs of Dover, both of which were impressive in their own ways. 

I will post some photos of our trip in my next post. We very much enjoyed this trip and look forward to returning to England in a few years to visit Cornwall and the southwest coast. 

Here is the map of our travels: 

Time as a wheel with spokes

Time is a strange thing. We experience it as linear, as a continual forward progression, and in a major sense it is. But it also seems circular to me--like a wheel with spokes. My experience with time is that it can be all-encompassing; it surrounds me, as though I am in the center of a circle from which spokes radiate out. At the end of those spokes are specific experiences that envelope me. The straight lines that are those spokes are the chronological events leading to those ends. But they could just as well be wavy spokes, or spokes with spikes poking out every which way. The spikes could be detours along the way or interesting experiences in and of themselves, leading to the ends. I think more and more that time is circular; that the individual experiences of each individual person are connected, that they radiate out from a center (the person in question) but that they meet and form the wheel of time that defines one person's life. The spikes may stick out in all directions from the spokes; they may be long or short. In this way we can interact with others during our lives. 

I wondered if others have pondered this view of time, so I googled 'time as a wheel with spokes' and the first link that was returned was the 'Wheel of Time' on Wikipedia (Wheel of time - Wikipedia). Apparently a number of religions subscribe to the concept of time as cyclical, including Hinduism, Jainism, Sikhism, and Buddhism. But I didn't really find any discussion of spokes and spikes. It seems to me that as we age, we accumulate more spokes, so that eventually the spokes begin to interact with each other, begin to touch each other, begin to crowd each other. Perhaps the spikes from each spoke meet the spikes from the other spokes and form 'ladders'. Perhaps that explains the feeling of being enveloped, of being surrounded by multiple experiences. Perhaps this is what is meant by the feeling that we have coexistent 'parallel lives'; not lives at all, but parallel experiences that eventually interact with each other or join each other. In this way, time seems to be more fluid. At least it doesn't feel solid to me; I don't experience it that way. 

I am curious (and always have been) about time because sometimes I experience what I call  'the ache across time'. The ache across time is the knowledge that somewhere out there is an experience of time that has touched us deeply, that has passed, that will never come again, but one that we remember perfectly. It is an ache for what will never come again in exactly that way--be it times together with loved ones, the experience of the beauty of the natural world, or a book or song that touches us. The ache is a part of us, ingrained in our time memory. We remember those times and experiences as though they happened yesterday. The spikes on our wheel spokes have interacted with the spikes of other people, floating in the vast expanse of the universe. Perhaps our wheels have attached to them via the spikes and become entangled. 

I like this view of time. It's intensely personal but interpersonal as well. It can account for that feeling of parallel lives, and can be modified to suit different situations. I asked Bing's AI chatbot to draw me a wheel with spokes that have spikes, but it really didn't return a satisfactory drawing. It did return four actual photos of wheels with spokes, but no spikes attached to the spokes. I'll have to work on drawing one myself. I'm not sure how the people in my life view time or if they reflect on it at all; I've had some interesting discussions with my husband about time some years ago, but mostly in regard to how time is viewed according to the theory of general relativity, which is not at all my forte. I think it's interesting, but I hit the wall immediately when I tried to understand the mathematics underlying the principles of physics. I am more comfortable residing in the realm of sci-fi and fantasy where such things are concerned. 

Morning games

I have a certain daily routine that I follow for the most part when I get up each day. There's breakfast to be made and eaten and washing-up afterward, and all of the other odd household chores that nag at me for my attention. But when they're done and I have some time to myself, I sit down with my laptop and open Wordle; after Wordle come Spelling Bee, Digits, and finally Connections. These games are all found under the Games section of The New York Times, for which I have a digital subscription. I have become a devotee of these games and look forward to new ones each day. Wordle is an online word game in which players are given six attempts to guess a five-letter word. Everyone has heard about Wordle; Josh Wardle, who created it for his partner, sold it to The New York Times for a low-seven figure sum. There are Wordle chat forums and AI chatbots that will analyze your moves for you after you have finished. Spelling Bee is a word puzzle game that challenges players to form words using a set of seven letters; these letters are arranged in a honeycomb with the center letter highlighted in yellow. The center letter must be used in all words formed and all words must be four letters or more. The game offers Hints to players, informing them of how many total words there are for that day, how many pangrams, and what the first letters are for the words in question. It would be a much more difficult game without the Hints, but of course that's the challenge. Even with the Hints, it can be a tough nut to crack. So there is something about reaching the rank of 'Genius' in Spelling Bee that floats my boat, likewise for Digits, a daily math puzzle game where you can use any combination of numbers to reach the target number. There are five daily target numbers to reach. It's fun and challenging and not as easy as one might think. And finally there is the game Connections (currently in beta form); it presents players with sixteen words that have to be grouped into four groups according to similarity/commonality, e.g. names of colleges or types of vegetables. 

I've learned that the best thing to do when I get stuck at any point is to take a break and come back after an hour or so. For some reason that always helps. Apparently there are millions of people each day who play these games and I understand why. They're fun, and they draw on one's vocabulary and/or ability to be brain-flexible. Sometimes I find myself really 'reaching' to come up with words in Spelling Bee or Wordle, but that's the fun part--meeting the challenge. 

The Reluctant Valedictorian

When I was together with my high school friends at the beginning of June, the talk inevitably turned to our high school years and some of the memories we have from those times. For my part, I would say that high school was quite okay but not much more than that. I'm thankful that my friendships with Janet, Judy and Laura were strengthened during those years; we remain friends to this day and make an effort to talk to and visit each other. I spent most of my high school years observing what went on around me, perhaps in preparation for my career as a scientist, which involves a lot of observation. I was book smart but not very street smart, perhaps natural for that age. But it seemed to me that so many of my fellow students were much more street smart. That came later for me, once I was in college and got to experience the urban environment of Fordham University. 

Since I had the highest grades in my class, that led to my being the valedictorian. The privilege of being the valedictorian was that I got to deliver the valedictory--the farewell address to the graduating senior class. Suffice it to say that I did not look forward to holding this address at our graduation in front of hundreds of people--my classmates and their families. But I did it. One could say that I did it my way. I'm sure my speech irritated a number of parents who were politically conservative, since I chose to focus on Nixon and Watergate and the lack of ethics in politics. I said that I hoped that our graduating class would stand for ethical behavior in all we did in our future careers. I practiced that speech many times in front of my teachers, who were constructive in their criticism but who never told me that I couldn't say this or that. I'm glad that they allowed me to say what I wished to say, that I wasn't censored in any way. But still, I was reluctant to speak publicly--the reluctant valedictorian. 

The dislike of public speaking followed me throughout my scientific career. I got better at it, and some of my lectures were downright inspired. I always remembered the words of Eleanor Roosevelt: 'you must do the thing you think you cannot do'. So I did. I faced my fear of public speaking, but I never grew comfortable with it and I never grew to like it. I don't like having all eyes on me. I do best in one-on-one conversations and small meetings. I don't know when I changed, because in grammar school and the first two years of high school, I had no problems with talking in class and being the center of attention. Somewhere along the line, it all changed and I don't know why. Ultimately, I came to prefer writing and sharing my writing, an avocation that I have pursued to this day. Writing is what I enjoy most. It's a way of putting myself out there that makes me feel comfortable. When I write, I'm not worrying about how vulnerable I am. I know that those who want to read what I write will do so; those who don't will go elsewhere. I'm comfortable with that. 

 

The beauty of Colorado

After I visited Oregon, Judy and I flew to west Colorado to visit Janet, another high school friend (see my post from June 19th: A New Yorker in Oslo: I've been traveling (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). We did some walking in the vicinity of her home, and also took a day trip to Ouray. Here are some photos from Colorado: 

the creek behind my friend's house

irises growing in abundance along the walking path

facing east with the Rocky Mountains in the distance

the charming town of Ouray

Ouray

Ouray

the road leading away from Ouray

  

Update on my book: A Town and A Valley--Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley

My book, A Town and A Valley--Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley, was purchased by the Warner Library in Tarrytown and can be found in the Local History section. I visited the library recently and was pleased to find out that my book had been loaned out, according to the desk librarian who told me where it was to be found. It has also been purchased by the Historical Society in Tarrytown, which makes me quite happy. I know that my parents and my brother are rooting for its success, as are a number of people from my past who have contacted me to tell me that they love the book. 

For those readers who would like to know more about the area of New York State where I was born and where I grew up, the book might be of interest to you. It can be purchased on Amazon: 

A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9798842022946: Amazon.com: Books

and also on Barnes & Noble: 

A Town and A Valley: Growing Up in Tarrytown and the Hudson Valley by Paula Mary De Angelis, Paperback | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

The beauty of Oregon

It's been over three weeks since I visited my friends Judy and John in Oregon. I've had time to reflect on my trip and how wonderful it was to be together. A short two-day trip, but truly memorable. I realize that life offers us opportunities to be together that don't really come again, at least not in the same way. They visited us here in Oslo last June, and this June I was able to visit them where they live in west Oregon. We were gifted our time together and I am very grateful for the gift. Time moves us steadily onward; we get older and perhaps the chances to be together will be less in the coming years. I hope not, God willing, but no one really knows for sure. I know many people my age who can no longer travel due to health problems; there are no guarantees, so it's best to take advantage of the opportunities as they arise. 

We used a day to travel by car from west to east Oregon, driving from Portland to Mount Hood (about a fifty-mile drive), with a stop in Hood River to visit Paloma, who is the graphic designer for my books. While we were in Hood River, we also stopped and watched the kite surfers being whipped about by the wind on the Columbia River. We then drove on to Mount Hood and ate dinner at the Timberline Lodge that is located on the southern flank of Mount Hood. The lodge is a National Historic Landmark, and well it should be, after having watched the video about its construction. It was built between 1936 and 1938 as a WPA project during the Great Depression. One of its claims to fame is that Stanley Kubrick used outside views of the lodge in the supernatural horror film The Shining (1980). 

The following photos don't really do these places justice, but they give some glimpses of the beauty of Oregon. Enjoy!

the view from the backyard of my friends' house

view from The Vista

Rowena Crest area

view from Rowena Crest area 

Mount Hood 

I've been traveling

I've been traveling recently between several different time zones, and upon my return home, my body decided that it didn't know what time zone it was in, so it's been waking me up at 3 am to let me know that it's time to get up and start the day. The other night I had a long discussion with myself at 3 am about what electric bike I should buy, since I need a new one. Why my brain chose that time to ponder such a thing is beyond me. It got to the point where it suddenly felt extremely urgent that I make the decision right then and there. Of course when dawn arrived none of it seemed so urgent at all. I don't know why the middle of the night creates a sense of urgency out of nothing. It has happened many times before; I should make this or that plan, call this or that person, get done whatever needs to be done. The list is unbelievably long. There is something about the dark that inspires urgency. But when dawn arrives, and in the light of day, I'm more relaxed (thank God). I get what I need to get done, done. Just not at breakneck speed or with the feeling that I have a ton of weight on my shoulders. 

But despite its effects on my body, I wouldn't give up traveling for all the money in the world. Because there are travel experiences that money will never be able to buy--time spent with good friends, scenery that will take your breath away, visits to historic places. No amount of wealth or material goods can replace those experiences. As the old saying goes, you can't take it with you. True, that. I like to travel light, in my daily wanderings and when I'm out in the world. 

So where did I travel to this time? First, to Portland Oregon where my good friend Judy lives with her husband John and their sweet dog Coda. Portland is located in western Oregon; we drove into eastern Oregon one day, and the contrast between west and east is striking. Oregon is a beautiful state for sure, rich in forest tracts, mountains, valleys, rivers, gorges, and rolling hills, but also incredible desert plateaus. The Columbia River, known for its rough waters and high winds, runs through a gorge (canyon). Bounded on both sides by steep rocky walls, it creates its own weather. It's worth a trip there just to see the windsurfers and kite surfers (aka kiteboarders). The terminology may be confusing, but watching the surfers is pretty cool. Judy and I then traveled further on to Cedaredge Colorado where we visited with our friend Janet and her husband Richard. The original trip was planned as a reunion of four high school friends (the Fab Four as our English teacher used to call us), but one friend could not manage the trip, so the remaining three met and enjoyed our time together. We took a day trip to Ouray, which apparently is known as the 'Switzerland of America'. It is a charming, quaint, and historic mountain town bounded by canyons and mountains (the San Juan mountains). We ate lunch at the Goldbelt restaurant (very good food) and walked around the town, ending up at the Western Hotel (established in 1891) where we wandered around looking at the rooms, the dining room, and the saloon. It would have been lovely (and expensive) to stay there; perhaps on a future trip. In the 1870s, gold was found in the San Juan mountains, resulting in the establishment of small mining towns in the area. Ouray has the feel of a former mining town; it is now a tourist town that attracts visitors from all over the world. 

I'd like to visit my friends again in a few years and explore more of Oregon and Colorado with them. The USA never ceases to amaze me; its fifty states offer vast differences in climate and topography. Each state has something beautiful to offer. America the beautiful, indeed. It is. 

Navigators - Wall of Stone

Good song that was released in 2010 by the Norwegian band Navigators. Unfortunately they disbanded not long after. I'm including the lyrics:

Wall of Stone by Navigators 

You can find a new reason
to do the things you do
it's the end of the season
ain't nothing here for you
it's just a misunderstanding
another hole in the ground
the things you lost are all around you

another walk in the gutter
another weightless fall
another face in the mirror
it's just an endless crawl
and now you're stuck in the corner
ain't no easy way out

you're digging too deep
my friend
you're digging too deep

why don't you leave her all alone
you make a mess for everyone
why don't you leave her all alone
can't you see this wall of stone

and you can't go on much longer
it's just a question of time
it's just a misunderstanding
another downward climb
the circles keep getting smaller
and you go round and round

ain't nowhere left to turn
you're going underground

why don't you leave her all alone
you make a mess for everyone
why don't you leave her all alone
stuck behind your wall of stone

it really ain't no point in trying your wall without
sayin
goodbye to someone
you're holding on to all your fears
and all the things you'll never share with no one

in the night when he longs for the light he's gonna be
alright

why don't you leave her all alone
cause the road you're walking on
will never lead you home
why don't you leave her all alone
alone, alone
why don't you leave her all alone
you make a mess for everyone
why don't you leave her all alone
can't you see this wall of stone

you're digging too deep
my friend
you're digging too deep

The end result of laziness

I'm all for giving away second-hand/used clothing to charitable organizations that distribute it to those in need. I do it myself a couple of times a year. For example, the Salvation Army and the Red Cross do a wonderful job with organizing this. Their numerous clothing bins are distributed around the city, and it doesn't really matter which organization you support when you deposit bags of clothing in the bins belonging to one of these organizations. The goal is to help others and to reuse clothing. But there reaches a point when enough is enough; when people are lazy and don't walk the extra distance to place clothing in a bin that's not completely full. The other thing they don't do is place the clothing they're giving away in a bag and seal it before they try to dump it in the bin. I walked by this bin the other day and became irritated. I thought, how can people be so lazy? I mean really, what does it cost them to walk a few blocks further to deposit their bags of clothing in another bin? But they won't do that, nor will they place the clothing in a bag before they deposit it. They'd rather that the bins end up looking like this--see photo below. I have to say that I just don't get it. No wonder sloth is one of the seven deadly sins. There is an awful lot of sloth in society, and by that I mean, an aversion to making active, conscious decisions to better oneself and society. Every time you litter or dump clothing willy-nilly wherever it suits you, every time you don't do what you should do for the good of all, you are being slothful. If you behave in this way, you cannot tell me that you love the people around you or your country. Quite the opposite. You are saying, 'I don't care about my neighborhood or my country'. You are saying 'I'm entitled to do as I please. Someone else can pick up after me'. And that is what happens most of the time. In my book, you are selfish and spoiled, in addition to being lazy. Because when I see these bins, I think of garbage bins. That's what you're essentially depositing in these bins--your garbage. It doesn't help these organizations one bit that they have to use their time cleaning up after you and sorting through what is useful and what is not. And it is not their fault that people are so incredibly shameless and lazy. 

Bird tales

The arrival of spring means the return of birds to the garden, birds of all kinds. Sparrows, brown and black thrushes, crows, magpies, wagtails, robins (the European ones that are smaller than the American ones), ring-necked doves, and (Eurasian) blue tits. Sparrows are most prevalent and spend most of their time in one of two huge bushes in my garden, the kaiser bush and the red currant bush which are more or less opposite each other. When I am working in the garden I can hear them quarreling and chattering; they fly back and forth between both bushes, with stops at the birdbath to drink water and to take a communal bath. Watching them flap around together in the birdbath is a hoot. And when it's really been hot during past summers, they share the birdbath with the bees that line up on the rim to drink water. 

This year there is a large crow that saunters around the garden like he (she) owns the place. My garden neighbor calls her Clara, so we assume it's a female bird. Clara struts and shows off for us; she is not afraid of very much. It is the neighborhood cats that are scared of her; she has chased them out of the garden on numerous occasions. This year she has discovered my neighbor's small stone birdbath that has been placed at ground level. Clara and several of the magpies enjoy drinking water and plucking insects from this birdbath. It's amusing to watch them. She sometimes walks around my garden as do the brown thrushes, looking for insects (mostly earthworms) to eat. The brown thrushes remind me of little dinosaurs; I call them the little raptors. They have a menacing look in their eyes that strikes me as primeval.

As I walk to and from the garden, I pass Kiellands plass with its large pluming fountains whose water descends via small successive waterfalls into at least six small pools lined with smooth medium-sized stones (NLA - Alexander Kiellands plass (landskapsarkitektur.no). Oslo's birds have discovered these pools, sharing them with small dogs and toddlers who like to wander down to the water's edge. Sometimes the dogs take a dip, but mostly the birds have the pools to themselves. They include mallard ducks, pigeons, and seagulls for the most part, but also thrushes and smaller birds. This morning on my way to the garden, a mother duck crossed the sidewalk in front of me followed by her five little ducklings. The UPS driver who was delivering a package nearby stopped to watch them as well, and we commented how sweet it was to see them. Here we are in the middle of a large city, and the ducks are raising their families here. Nature adapts to all sorts of situations and seems to do so readily; that is definitely the case for mallard ducks. There must be a reason that the ducks stay put; one of them must be that people feed them bread. But there are also droves of insects surrounding the water pools that you can see in the late afternoon summer sunlight, flitting about in the warmth. There are probably also a lot of earthworms and other ground insects. The ducks also eat seeds and the nearby plant matter (roots and tubers) that abound.

A less happy story is what happened to the magpie nest outside our bedroom window. The magpie couple spent a lot of time earlier this spring enlarging last year's nest of twigs and branches. The nest seemed to double in size and looked to be spread over two levels. This pair of birds comes back every year to raise their young. Alas, this year it was not to be. Last Wednesday, I heard a crack and took a look out the window; I had already guessed that it had something to do with the branch. The branch holding the nest had cracked off and fallen to the ground. My best guess is that the nest was too heavy and that the birds had built it too far out on the limb. This year's addition to the nest certainly did not help. I felt so bad for them; they don't always assess the situation correctly and this year they lost out. We don't know if there were eggs in the nest, but if there were, they were destroyed along with the nest. The birds disappeared for a few days, but yesterday morning I heard them chattering in the yard again. They'll be back next year, but there won't be any baby magpies this year unless they overtake an abandoned nest. 

We are moving toward summer now--the season of sun, warmth, growth, new life, and easy days. I look forward to lounging in my garden and dozing off to the sound of bird chatter. It's a wonderful part of summer. 

Quasi friendships

I rarely cancel social plans that I've made with friends. Throughout my life, friends have been and are important to me. In other words, they are a priority in my life. For me to cancel plans with them, I have to be either sick or unable to keep my obligations due to a crisis of some sort, neither of which happens very often. I have never used school or work projects as an excuse to cancel plans; if anything, I didn't make social plans if I knew I had an exam on the near horizon or a crucial work project to finish, because I didn't want to cancel. I think carefully about what I promise, but once I promise something, I fulfill that promise. I don't promise what I can't deliver. 

I try to be available for get-togethers with friends and I look forward to them. But we live in a society now that worships work, and being busy at work is often used as an excuse for not getting together. I used to think it was purely an American trend--this obsession with work. But it's not. I recently tried to get together with some friends that I haven't seen since before Christmas--the end of November to be exact. We are a small group of women who meet and enjoy chatting for a couple of hours over dinner. My attempt to gather us together was rebuffed by one of them, who considers herself the busiest of us all. Granted, she has a demanding job, but I don't understand her priorities or her behavior. It wasn't that I was trying to plan a get-together for a week or two in the future; I was wondering if we could perhaps finalize a date at the end of June. Nail it down, so to speak. She wasn't having any of it; her excuse was that there might be upcoming work projects that would preclude her settling on a specific date for a get-together. Another woman in our group tried to get her to change her mind, but she ignored that attempt. What will happen is the following; at the end of June, the woman who won't meet us now will let us know that she is now available on such and such a day and would we like to get together. And usually we all fall in line to accommodate her schedule. Except that this time around I don't want to accommodate her. We've all done it for so long; she always calls the shots and it's always been that way. I'm not interested in continuing the pattern. 

I also don't understand another type of peculiar behavior where friends are concerned. Plans are made and everyone seems to look forward to getting together. But as the date approaches, one person backs out, then another, so that by the time we actually do meet, the number of joiners has been halved. I don't get it. It goes back to the idea of obligation; if you've said that you'll meet someone, you are obligated to do so unless there is a really good reason for not being able to do so. I can remember inviting four friends/colleagues to dinner (over fifteen years ago); all said they would come, but suddenly on the night in question, two canceled without a good explanation. I dealt with it then and can deal with such situations now, but it's downright rude to treat people this way. Imagine you had planned a big dinner party, had invited fifty people and half of them canceled at the last minute. People have also been known to do this at weddings; they are invited to the reception dinner and cancel at the last minute or don't commit to attending until the last minute. Are they waiting for a better offer? It's rude and selfish behavior. Besides the costs involved for the host, it's a downer for the host as well. It tells the host(s) that they are not a priority. I imagine that the invitees who behave this way think it's perfectly ok to do so. 

Then you have the people who never seem to be able to find a time to get together no matter what. But they stay in touch by texting and often say that they hope they'll see you again soon, or that we should get together soon. If you take them at their word, you quickly find out that they are not truly interested in meeting in person. 

I'm not sure I can really call these type of people friends. Quasi friends is more like it. Perhaps many work friendships developed over the years, with socializing once or twice a year, fit this definition. Once you no longer work with people on a regular basis, the reason for being friends lessens. After all, many work friendships are based on complaining about work, and when one is no longer working, there is little to complain about.  

One thing is for certain; as time goes on, these types of people will fade from my life, and I will be the better for it. Life is about letting go--of the past, of certain mindsets, and of people. One can let people fade from one's life, or one can make the choice to let go of them. I tend toward the latter. I give many chances and make any number of attempts to get together, but at some point I make the decision to let go. And once I do, there is no going backward. That's ok really, since some friendships are relative in the sense that they fit a particular place and time and are not meant to last forever. I'm thankful for my true-blue lifelong friends, the ones who are always there for me, and I for them. They know who they are, and I'm lucky to have them in my life. 

Reflections on the role of women in the church

I wish I understood human behavior better. I draw my own conclusions when I see odd or quirky behavior, such as I have witnessed recently at Sunday mass the past few months. When communion time comes and lines form to go the the altar, the longest line is the one where the priest is dealing out communion. If there is a lay minister on the altar (usually a woman), her line is short, while the line to the priest is very long. Additionally I have also witnessed that people (usually elderly) who are sitting in pews on the left side of the church, for example, will walk across to the right side if the priest is dealing out communion on the right side of the altar. I wish I could tell you that there are only a few people who do this. Not the case. This past Sunday, the line for the priest extended from the altar down to the entrance doors, whereas the line for the female lay minister had about four or five people. The priest's line was made up of young and old alike. The priest should have motioned to those on his line to switch lines, but he didn't. I think it's about time it was brought up as a discussion point from the pulpit. 

I have concluded that this is reactionary and pathetic behavior, and it irritates me no end. I have received communion from female lay ministers for years in the USA and never gave it a second thought. It never bothered me and it never will. My feelings toward those who reject women in this way are less than Christian, I must admit. Their unchristian behavior is not even subtle, it's blatant. I feel like giving them a good dressing-down, because they deserve it for their reactionary and ignorant behavior. I feel like yelling at them during the mass--"wake up". I feel sorry for the female lay minister standing there wanting to do the job that the priest has given her. I make it a point to go to her and not to the priest. Are the hosts that the priest deals out of better quality than those the female lay minister deals out? Are they more blessed? No, they are not. The priest has already done that job before communion is dealt out. All hosts are equal. It's just that these ignorant people don't want to receive communion from a woman. It makes my blood boil. 

I'm glad when I see women on the altar, serving in some capacity. Why shouldn't they? As I've discussed in previous posts, what happens when or if there are no more male priests to do these jobs? What happens if vocations fall off to the point where there are no young men to take over for the old ones? What happens if only women are interested in doing the job of a priest at some future point? What will these reactionary parishioners do at that point? Boycott the church? Not likely. They will be forced to examine their behavior, and hopefully they will change. In the meantime, I will work on quieting my irritation at my fellow parishioners who are behaving in an unchristian way. But I will say that there still is a long way to go to eradicate the stupidity and ignorance that unfortunately exists where women are concerned in the Catholic church. I have decided that the next time the church wants me to donate more money for maintenance/upkeep, I am going to say no until this issue is discussed from the pulpit. 

The National (feat. Bon Iver) - Weird Goodbyes [Official Lyric Video]

I heard this song for the first time tonight, and I ended up really liking it. It's one of those (sad) songs that drags you in. If you want to read more about the group and the song, check out the following link: The National, Bon Iver Unite for New Song ‘Weird Goodbyes’ – Rolling Stone

Lyrics:

Memorize the bathwater, memorize the air

There'll come a time I'll wanna know I was here

Names on the doorframes, inches and ages

Handprints in concrete, at the softest stages

I don't know why I don't try harder

I feel like throwing towels into water

Get it down to nothing, everything that matters

Fever flashes, eyelashes and traffic patterns

Humidity, history, chemistry and panic

Swimsuits in windows of electric minivans

I don't know why I don't try harder

I've been going down some, some strange water

Move forward now, there's nothing to do

Can't turn around, I can't follow you

Your coat's in my car, I guess you forgot

It's crazy the things we let go of

It finally hits me, a mile's drive

The sky is leaking, my windshield's crying

I'm feeling sacred, my soul is stripped

Radio's painful, the words are clipped

The grief, it gets me, the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

What was I even leaving for

I keep going back and forth

I think now I'm about to see

Didn't know how sad it'd be

Memorize the bathwater, memorize the air

There'll come a time I'll wanna know I was here

Names on the doorframes, inches and ages

Handprints in concrete, at the softest stages

I don't know why I don't try harder

I feel like throwing towels into water

Move forward now, there's nothing to do

Can't turn around, and I can't follow you

Your coat's in my car, I guess you forgot

It's crazy the things we let go of

It finally hits me, a mile's drive

The sky is leaking, my windshield's crying

I'm feeling sacred, my soul is stripped

Radio's painful, the words are clipped

The grief, it gets me, and the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

The grief, it gets me, the weird goodbyes

My car is creepin', I think it's dying

I'm pullin' over until it heals

I'm on a shoulder of lemon fields

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Aaron Brooking Dessner / Matt Berninger

Weird Goodbyes lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing

Spring report from Oslo

It seems as if spring is finally here. Dare we hope? Each time that we've had a few consecutive days of nice warm weather, it's been followed by the return of winter's cold, as was the case for the past week. I read the weather forecasts religiously now, because having a garden makes one more attentive to the weather (and lack of good weather). My fellow gardeners and I share our frustrations about the lousy spring we've had so far; the only spring flowers that have bloomed are the snowdrops, crocuses and violets, and they didn't bloom until mid-April. The tulips are in wait modus, and even the forsythia has not bloomed. The one plant that has grown and will bloom soon is the Helleborus Snow Rose, which has lovely flowers as I remember. The grass lawn is another story. A thick layer of snow topped by ice covered the garden until mid-April, compacting the grass to the point where I am unsure if it will grow back during this season. Time will tell. I am prepared to reseed the small area of lawn that I have in my garden. 

It's pointless to be irritated at a season, I know, but I have been so irritated that winter just keeps hanging on. It won't let go this year. Weather is the main topic of conversation in the garden; questions arise about global warming. We are worried that the growing season will be too short this year. The joke is that we'd love for there to be more global warming in Oslo so that we had shorter winters and longer summers. The reality of course is that global warming will lead to cooling in some parts of the world due to the changes in weather patterns caused by the melting of the polar ice caps. Who knows where it will all lead or end? As one of my friends in the garden says, we can talk about all the problems in the world, and there are a lot of them, but in the end, she looks forward to going home to google 'how to prune a rose bush'. That's her way of relaxing. Mine is similar; I love looking at online garden catalogs and some of the ones that arrive in the mail. I love going into garden stores to wander around. Sometimes I have specific plans about what to buy, other times no. And I do google a lot of garden-related issues; right now I'm reading about how to aerate a lawn and how important it is to do that.  

Today is one of those lovely sunny days in Oslo that foretell the imminent arrival of summer. But again, I, like the tulips, am in a wait-and-see modus. In some parts of the country south of Oslo, where there are often two growing seasons for the farmers (e.g. grains), it snowed yesterday. Luckily it didn't snow in Oslo, it only rained. The garden needs water, so I won't complain. But it seems odd to me that I leave the garden after a few hours work, come home and make myself a cup of hot chocolate--a winter drink if ever there was one. I worked for two hours cleaning and cleaning out the greenhouse yesterday, throwing away old baskets and plant containers, since it was too chilly to do anything else. I noticed that there is a different type of spider that has taken up residence in the greenhouse; these spiders look like tiny brown crabs scuttling across the floor of the greenhouse when they scurry for cover. There are not a lot of them. The usual spiders are the larger white ones with spindly legs that remind me of daddy-longlegs; they run away at the slightest sign of trouble. There are also the pill bugs that spend most of their time hiding; you find them in the compost bin if you turn the contents, but also under watering cans and the like in the greenhouse. They eat decaying plant matter, which is a good thing. I've also begun to turn the earth in the planting beds; there are a lot of big earthworms this year. During the few warm days we've had, the bumblebees and honeybees were out foraging for pollen. The insects are doing their jobs, and the garden underground is teeming with life. The garden is just waiting for the 'go' signal so that the plants can bloom and do their jobs.