Sharing Wonder

Posted by dkrashb on January 3, 2013

I think it was a Tulip Snail–whatever it was called, it was beautiful reflected against the glass

Why is it that going to the same old places seems like a special treat when sharing it with someone for the first time? While our friends were visiting after Christmas, we took them on a whirlwind tour of the Tennessee Aquarium.

These little guys are so fascinating to watch, I can’t imagine what soulless person could harvest them

The ever-changing colors of the seahorses as they move through the tank makes for great camouflage

I haven’t been to the aquarium for a few months now, but I really thought I’d seen everything there was to see there. Yet, seeing it with someone new always makes me look more closely. I go into the experience with nervous anticipation–I want my friends to be wowed. I want to feel the pride of a “native” about the really cool things my chosen town has to offer. I don’t know if this is because, in part, I feel guilty about having moved away and I want my friends to understand what is so attractive about this place. But, honestly, I felt the same way taking visitors to interesting places in Columbus. I don’t know what it is about a town that makes a person identify with it. Is it just the desire to show someone a good time? Or is there really some underlying insecurity that makes me feel like if they think the aquarium is lame, I’m also lame because I love it? I think about going out to eat with people who recommend a restaurant and choking down barely edible food with a smile because I like these people and I feel like it would somehow be a personal insult to them if I admitted that I hated food they loved. What I don’t quite get is why we care (excuse me for presuming I’m not the only one who does). Some people prefer chocolate ice cream while others prefer vanilla. It’s not a comment on someone’s value as a human being. Yet, it’s so much more fun to share something with someone when they really enjoy it than when they just fake it.

I don’t remember if these are pipe fish or not, but they were easy to walk by without noticing

I’m happy to report Georgia and George genuinely enjoyed the aquarium–they made it more fun for us, too. Their fascination with the floating jelly fishes made me appreciate the jellies all over again. Their enthusiasm about the river and ocean tanks made me see it like it was the first time. Georgia’s willingness to touch a sturgeon had me dipping my arm into the tank right along side her. They don’t have scales like other fish–they feel very smooth.

We also caught part of a Ranger Rick show that featured a bird I’ve never seen before–a Trumpeter Hornbill. For those of you who do not remember Ranger Rick, he was a cartoon raccoon and the name of a children’s magazine about nature. The aquarium has Ranger Rick shows for children, but I didn’t see many kids in the audience. The most amazing thing the Hornbill did was catch a grape in mid-air that was tossed just a few feet in front of it. They need better lighting for photos, but it was still pretty cool.

The Trumpeter Hornbill catches a grape in a mid-air maneuver that seems impossible

The Trumpeter Hornbill returns to its handler after flying across the room

Welcoming 2013

Posted by dkrashb on January 2, 2013

Interesting clouds over Chattanooga

Having embarrassed myself yet again by writing my blog post way too late at night, I thought I would try writing at a decent hour tonight.

In honor of the new year, it seems only appropriate to think about what I’d like 2013 to be like. As some of you may recall from last year, I am a bit of a resolution-phobe. But, it is always good to reflect on a year past and thinking about what things should come forward and which things I’d like to leave behind.

Unreleasable Prairie Falcon in Oregon

First, I have enjoyed exploring the world through a camera regularly over the past year and a half. I don’t think I’ve gone more than 2 weeks without shooting in 2012. This has provided me with a new way of looking at the world that I can only describe as a sense of careful observation combined with vast appreciation. I notice things I have not noticed in the past. I wait for things to unfold with a patience I have trouble finding without a camera. I work at getting better with both acceptance that I am imperfect and faith that I can improve. All in all, photography gives me joy and hope. This is something I want to keep in 2013.

Parking lot in Portland, OR

Second, during some parts of 2012, I managed to strike a balance between the things I love to do and the things I have to do. I lost that balance and now I want it back. Taking time out to bike, row, hike, do yoga, and bird/teach keeps me feeling happy and makes me better at everything else I do. I don’t have to do any of them really well, I just have to set aside all the things worrying me and go enjoy some time on my bike, on the river, on the mountain, on the mat, or with the birds. It’s a simple formula that requires making room in my schedule. This is something I want to regain in 2013 and I don’t want to wait for the weather to get warmer.

Assisting at a Wings to Awareness educational program for 3rd graders

Third, I really enjoy the time we spend with family and friends. Living remotely from many of the folks in those categories makes that tough. For 2013, I’d like to have more contact with more people I feel close to whether it’s over the phone, in person, or via FaceTime, these are the people who keep me grounded.

Sharing Point Park with family last summer

Finally, I have occasionally written about finding peace and, through finding it internally, creating it externally. That’s really what the previous 3 things are about–creating a sense of internal peace that help contribute to more happiness in the world. It seems like a small contribution, but as the Dali Lama said: “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Besides, a small contribution towards happiness is better than a small contribution towards anguish. A compassionate, peaceful life. That’s what I look forward to in 2013.

Enjoying a well-earned view after a 5-mile hike on Lookout Mountain

Getting onto the water not quite gracefully

Winter at Point Park

Posted by dkrashb on December 31, 2012

We had the wonderful experience of having dear friends come down for a post-Christmas visit (a little more post than planned due to a blizzard hitting the midwest the day they were planning to leave).

We picked a couple of highlights to share since they only had a day and a half after the storm cleared out enough for them to come on down. Of course, we took them to Point Park.

It’s one of those places that meets many criteria for many different people. For those who want an outdoor adventure, there are dozens of hiking trails through the woods to spectacular overlooks. For those who want a nice easy stroll, there’s a ¼ mile paved loop around the top of the point that doesn’t even require climbing a step. And it still offers spectacular views. The list of increasingly challenging things to see goes on–basically, any level of physical activity or lack there of can be achieved and all levels are rewarded with amazing views of Chattanooga, Moccasin Bend, and even down into Georgia.

Pat and George pose for me in front of the overlook above Moccasin Bend

For the history buff, there are lots of Civil War memorials and information about some of the events of the Civil War related to this location. I’ve come to have a new respect for the Civil War living down here–I find myself growing more and more interested in the battles in the area.

Georgia, Paris, and Bonnie pause briefly in front of the memorial at Point Park

Our visiting friends included my bestie, Georgia, her equally wonderful husband George, (yes, George and Georgia) and two of their fur-kids, Paris and Bonnie. We were also sitting for Twiggy, and, we, of course, had Tisen. Having 4 dogs created a few logistical challenges, but it actually worked out quite well.

Twiggy and Tisen spent a day at doggy daycare together (which Tisen enjoys much more with his buddy Twiggy to play with) while Paris and Bonnie went exploring with us. Having 4 dogs and 4 humans in one mini-van just seemed like a bit much.

Remainders from the war, these canons still stand guard over Moccasin Bend

The last time we walked the loop at Point Park it was about 110 degrees. This time, it was in the 30’s, the sky was spitting at us, the wind was whipping us around, and the sun was no where to be seeing. I liked this weather better than the 110 degree day. But, with no umbrellas and the sky looking increasingly threatening, we walked quickly and skipped the jaunt out to the point. It was still beautiful–I never know if I like this park so much because of the views of because of the special people I’ve had the pleasure of taking there?

Returning to the car, we all had the same thought on our minds–we were uncomfortable in our high-tech winter coats with fleece and down and our warm, waterproof boots. We tried to imagine living through the war in wool coats and boots full of holes (if you had either).

I just like this image–the boys having fun together

We went home feeling more than a little spoiled.

Greasy Spoon Comfort Food

Posted by dkrashb on November 12, 2012

The Longhorn is a long-standing tradition. It’s not the steakhouse chain, although people show up with gift cards and expect to be able to use them there. I think if they’d ever been to the steakhouse chain, they would realize immediately that this place isn’t part of the same chain.

I’ve never asked why it’s called the Longhorn, but the building seems to have been architected to simulate longhorns with the roof. Who knows if the building or the name came first?

It’s been around since the 50’s and the minute you look at it, you know it. This is true both outside and in. It’s possible the counter and stools have not been replaced since the restaurant was originally opened.

But that’s part of its charm.

Its real charm, though, is the wait staff. It only took going in there twice in one week before they started looking up, smiling and saying, “Hey, Guys!” when we walked in the door. By our fourth visit, 2 servers had our “usual” pretty much down. There’s nothing like having someone remember you, look happy to see you, and manage to remember even part of what you like to eat considering how many people these ladies serve every day.

When you’re in the mood for a down-home, greasy-spoon, fill-you-up kind of breakfast, the Longhorn is top notch. If you’re trying to lose weight, don’t go there.

But, if you’re in the mood for eggs, they’ll be cooked to order perfectly (assuming you know what you’re ordering–I’ve heard people complain about over-easy eggs being runny, someday they’ll figure it out). The “scattered tatters” are crispy, traditional hash browns (shredded potatoes, fried) and are always tasty.

The bacon is usually perfect, but can be a little overly crispy if you get there at the wrong time. But whatever you order, prepare yourself for grease. There’s a lot of it.

Unless you order pancakes. The pancakes are awesome and not greasy. But don’t expect anything fancy like real butter or genuine maple syrup here–this is a place that pays tribute to its 50’s heritage with whipped margarine served in a cup and corn syrup with maple flavoring.

This is the kind of place you go when you feel like being low maintenance.

When you walk in the door and Sandy and Terry pause in the middle of slinging food because they’re genuinely glad to see you, you remember there are more important things in life than having real butter.

I love the food. For better or worse, it’s comfort food to me. But what keeps me coming faithfully back is the sense of belonging to a community of regulars. We update one another on weekend events, discuss what haircuts will look best on me, the server, or someone sitting down the counter. We trade barbs and tease one another. When people are waiting, we scoot down to make space.

It’s a nice place to eat.

Hair

Posted by dkrashb on September 22, 2012

I had this idea for a blog post. It started when I was flipping through a magazine at a hair salon. I was looking at some trashy rag on movie stars. They had an article that showed a movie star’s hairstyles over the years. I thought, “wouldn’t it be fun to compare how my hair has changed over the years”?

I forgot that I’m not often in front of the lens since I’m usually behind it. It was hard to find any pictures of myself and even harder to find ones that aren’t completely humiliating. I also didn’t realize how, no matter how much I change my hair, it always seems to look the same.

I don’t know too many women who are so content with their hair that they keep it exactly the same for their entire life. I know many men who may or may not be content with their hair, but haven’t changed their style since the day they were born or the day they first had enough hair to style, whichever came first. My father is one of them.

Hair has always been a bit of a struggle for me. When I was a child, I had a plastic bristle brush that pulled my thick hair, making it vaguely wavy. I had no idea I had curly hair. In fact, I started perming around 1980 and continued perming for about 10 years. It wasn’t until I switched to a short, straight cut and, after 2 years of no perms, wondered why I was still struggling to blow out my curls that I realized they were naturally occurring.

I’ve been switching between wearing my hair straight an curly ever since.

There seems to be a pattern: wear hair curly, wear hair straight, grow hair longer, wear hair curly, wear hair straight, cut hair shorter, wear hair curly, wear hair straight, grow hair longer. Sometimes, the cutting shorter might repeat a couple of rounds before the grow longer part kicks in.

Can you say you change your hair all the time if you always change it in the same ways?

Well, I really changed it this time. I made the decision to grow out my color and decided to pick a short cut to make that process shorter. I picked Sharon Stone’s current cut as the example for my hair stylist. Unfortunately, the stylist had never cut my hair before and didn’t realize it wasn’t going to behave like Sharon Stone’s hair. I guess I should have known by now.

I did this in early July. Losing about a pound of hair was awesome in July. And it’s so easy. But I had the realization that as the days get shorter, the humidity drops, and so does the temperature, I’m going to be cold this winter with no hair to keep my ears and neck warm.

Must be time to start letting it grow.

Fall Friends

Posted by dkrashb on September 17, 2012

Tisen and I have been discovering friends new and old on many of our walks of late. The other day, for example, we crossed the street to enter the park and found Tisen’s girlfriend Twiggy out for a stroll with her mom and dad.

Twiggy wasn’t up for romance, however. Today, her mind is all about the rampant rodent population living in the tall grasses growing on the hillside. It’s fall, after all, and the busy critters have been breeding all summer. Now, the entire population is fattening up for winter. From Twiggy’s perspective, it probably seems like a buffet.

In spite of Twiggy’s amazing leaps and bounds, she comes up empty mouthed. Tisen, however, looks at her with adoration like he can’t believe her athletic prowess and is imagining her bringing home venison for dinner.

We say our goodbyes and are soon greeted by deep purple flowers that I’m going to guess are some sort of variety of fall asters, although they look far more cultivated than the wild variety that used to grow in our garden up North.

They bob and curtsy at us as our friends the Goldfinches, who are not looking so gold these days, land and depart on the dried seed pods of nearby plants. I believe these were once our friends the purple coneflowers that have now shriveled into thin, brown mummies. The goldfinches continue visiting them and harvesting their seed, storing it as fat for their winter coat.

I am reminded of the lateness of the season by all of this activity. The days are shorter, the temperatures nearly tolerable, and the birds are far quieter. I pause for a moment and listen. A month ago, I would have heard a Titmouse, a Chickadee, a Cardinal, a Wren, a Towhee, a Robin, and an Indigo bunting in this park. Today, all I hear are the cicadas buzzing away with their strange song.

While Twiggy may be too busy hunting to think about romance, for me, this is always the most romantic time of year. A sense of nostalgia sets in along with the inevitable awareness of time passing that comes with it. Another year wrapping up. Autumn is more poignant than new year’s when it comes to reminding me of my own mortality. In the fall, everything seems to be moving on in one way or another. Perhaps as a nomad (at least in my imagination), I long for my own migration.

When Tisen and I encounter our next group of friends, the bees and butterflies, so dense on a brilliant white flower I don’t recognize that they’re sharing blossoms, I remember that this is migration season for the butterflies, too. While the bees will hole up for the winter, the butterflies will take to the winds and head for warmer climates. I look at these tiny, delicate insect-birds and wonder how they can possibly migrate a few dozen miles, let alone thousands. One of life’s many wonders.

Sunless in Seattle

Posted by dkrashb on September 7, 2012

I love flying over Seattle. There’s almost always clouds below the plane, blanketing the sky. Then, suddenly, the peak of a mountain pops through like a giant whitehead. Only an attractive one. Mt Rainier particularly stands out. Perhaps because it’s so rarely been visible from the ground on any of my trips to the area.

These photos are from the first time I went to Seattle, which wasn’t until 2004. We went to visit some friends who had moved out there from Columbus. We spent most of our time North of Seattle, but we decided to spend the last day of our trip downtown, exploring the city.

The Experience Music Project and Space Needle were two of the sites on our “must see” list. Since they were co-located, it was pretty easy to work them both into our schedule. As luck would have it, we had beautiful blue skies and sunshine that entire trip until the day we went into downtown Seattle. I don’t know if this is because there is some sort of vortex over Seattle and causes it to be cloudy and rainy there all the time or if the maximum number of sunny days had been reached and the clouds were turned back on.

As we approached the EMP Museum, it looked mostly like a sheen of gray against a gray sky, drenched in gray mist. We were happy to go inside.

Seeing the collections of guitars was pretty exciting to my husband. A little less so to me. But, the tornado of guitars was pretty impressive. In truth, there could have been absolutely nothing inside that building and I could have spent the entire day trying to figure out how to shoot its strange curves and intersecting angles. Armed only with my PowerShot G3 at the time, I struggled with the lighting conditions for starters. But more than that, trying to find a logical edge to decide on what to include and exclude from the frame seemed impossible as each shape flowed into the next. Each attempt at framing a shot seemed like I was cutting off the flow. Most of my shots are not even interesting enough to include with this post.

After exploring the interactive exhibits in the EMP, we made our way over to the Space Needle. In spite of he rain, the view was pretty impressive. We looked straight down on the EMP and got to look at the shape of tis exterior. We also got a clearer view of how colorful the exterior really is.

The Space Needle also afforded some great looks at the ports below. Down in the park below, a group of kids were playing with giant water canons permanently mounted there. I found it amusing that they were squirting each other with water while it was raining.

By the time we’d stood out on the observation deck for 10 minutes, we were both looking like drowned rats.

Drive-by Shooting

Posted by dkrashb on August 17, 2012

Sometimes, I ignore what I’ve learned and regress to just snapping pictures. They say the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions and expecting different results. I’m not insane. I just sometimes decide the awful results I know I’ll get are OK.

Sometimes, I just want to take snap shots.

That said, there is something fundamentally wrong about pulling out a Canon 5D Mark III with a 24-17mm f/2.8 lens on it and shooting from the passenger side of a shuttle van through the windows while moving at speeds up to 55 MPH. I believe it violates the 11th commandment: Thou Shalt Not Waste a Really Great Camera by Using it Poorly!

It’s times like these I wish I had one of those little compact point-and-shoots that you can pull out of your pocket and look like a typical tourist.

On the flip side, I hauled 17 pounds of photography equipment with me through 3 airports to get this far and I sure as heck was not going to fail to use my camera. Unfortunately, when I look at these images, I can’t say I’m glad I did.

What does one do with crappy vacation photos that are too ugly to use for anything but too evocative of memories to get rid of? If you’re like me, you probably have thousands of pictures that you can no longer identify what the subject of the photo was supposed to be or the subject is obvious but completely blurred or has a street sign coming out of its head or is underexposed, but it’s the only photo you got of that really great subject, so you hang onto it for dear life.

Sometimes, it’s better just to delete.

I’ve written before about the joy of an uncluttered life. And how that includes an uncluttered hard drive. So, this is my pledge: I’m deleting all of these photos. Well, I might keep the Psychic Gallery one. And the one of the ski runs. And maybe the church. Why is it so hard just to hit the delete key?

But, I digress.

Continuing my travel story from two days ago, having safely arrived at the Rutland, Vermont airport, we were greeted by our driver, Terry, from Gramps Shuttle. (I’m pretty sure there’s a joke in there somewhere.) He knew our names, he greeted us like friends, we laughed all the way to the hotel.

Along the way, I shot anything and everything that was even semi-interesting. The sign for a Psychic Gallery really threw me. I pictured an art gallery that displayed psychic events instead of art. Or perhaps performance art installations involving levitation or telekinesis. Or maybe just a collection of fortunes from Chinese fortune cookies. Terry enjoyed contemplating what it was, but he didn’t offer to stop to find out.

It was just as well–it would only have resulted in more bad pictures.

Getting There

Posted by dkrashb on August 15, 2012

When I was single, I went on a trip with a girlfriend once. It was a ski club trip to Teluride, Colorado and there were about 50 of us on the trip. I can’t recall ever getting on a plane to go on a get away with a girlfriend at any other time in my life. Until now.

When one of my neglected friends back in Columbus decided it was high time for her to take a little time to have a fun for herself given that she’s spent about 30 years dedicating herself to making sure everyone else in her life was having fun, we decided to meet somewhere.

She suggested a spa. I said, “Ahh!” My friend suggested the “New Life Hiking Spa.”

I didn’t need to think it over–anything with the words “hiking” and “spa” in their name was too tempting to miss. Plus, it’s in Vermont–one of the 12 states I’d never been to before.

The hardest part of getting our trip planned was finding time when we could both get on the phone. We must have traded hundreds of emails and text messages trying to figure out an itinerary that would get us both to the Boston airport in time for a final flight to Rutland, Vermont so we could share a shuttle ride from there to Killington, our final destination.

When we called to make a reservation at the spa, the guy on the phone suggested we might find all the travel wasn’t worth it for a 3 night stay given where we were coming from. He didn’t understand that it wasn’t about the destination.

I’ve never much believed in miracles, but I flew from Chattanooga to Atlanta to Boston while my friend flew from Columbus to Philly to Boston and we arrived within 30 minutes of each other with no lost luggage.

We had plenty of time to get to the Cape Air ticketing counter tucked amongst hundreds of JetBlue podiums and kiosks in Terminal C. I can’t recall ever being asked how much I weigh when I checked in before. They weighed everything I was carrying–I don’t know why they didn’t just have me stand on the scale, too, that way they would know I wasn’t lying and I wouldn’t have had to say my weight out loud while others were listening.

When we eventually got on the plane, it seated 9. One passenger rode co-pilot.

I managed to take a few iPhone shots before having to shutdown my phone for the duration, but I longed for my 5D Mark III as we made our way over the mountains in the tiny Cessna with huge windows made for shooting. I can’t recall ever being on a commuter flight that felt like a tour before.

In spite of a little turbulence and the great scenery, I managed to nod off, awakening just in time to see the mountains around Rutland. It may have been my best travel day ever.

Kittens and a Year of Blogging

Posted by dkrashb on August 11, 2012

This is my 366th consecutive, daily post. Since it was leap year, I figured I had to get to 366 to say I’d completed a year of posts. 🙂

Collectively, I’ve written over 250,000 words in the course of blogging for one year. That’s over 1000 pages worth of words. If I would have said I wanted to write 1000 pages, I probably would have quit after the first 100 or so.

Here are my lessons from a year of blogging:

In the end, it’s about people. I didn’t expect to meet people through blogging, but I have. I keep writing because all of you keep reading. I look for you, I watch for regulars, I peak at your blogs when I have a few minutes. You matter to me. Please come back.
I can only write one day at a time–one word at a time. Thinking about the collective volume is fun after the fact, but not the goal.
The delete key is my friend. I went from an average of 1200 words a post to setting a limit of 500 words. Although it initially took me much longer to write 500 than 1200 words, I think we’re all happier.
Sometimes, you do have to think about more than one day at a time. Scheduling posts ahead of time when I’m traveling has kept me going. Had I not figured out how to do this, I would have given up on my goal of one post a day about a month into blogging when we spent 2 weeks in Germany.
Every post can’t be my best post ever. I started with the expectation that every post would be an improvement over the last. What’s “best” depends on the subject and what people are interested in. Sometimes I have the need to think about the meaning of life. Sometimes I have the need to improve my photography skills. Which one is better?
Some days, I’m writing right before bed, falling asleep as I write, trying to get the morning post scheduled before I pass out on my keyboard. Those aren’t going to be my best posts. For each post to be my best ever, I’d need to quit my day job and do this full time. I don’t love blogging enough to give up food and shelter, so I’ll just apologize for those posts now. For me, it’s more about establishing the discipline of meeting my commitment to post about 500 words a day every day.
At some point, I will have to consider the possibility that I’ve said enough in this forum and it’s time to move on to the next. For now, I’m content to keep posting.
Kittens are irresistible. And since these kittens are indirectly responsible for Tisen coming into our lives (they are foster kittens–my sister-in-law inspired me to foster dogs), I thought they would be a good photographic subject to celebrate the completion of this milestone.

It’s been a good year–thanks!

nomadicmainstream

Combining living on the road with a mainstream lifestyle

Category Archives: Friends