greeting cards

My significant other rarely takes interest in holiday cards. For this reason, I've given up asking him to sign the card or write a note. Imagine my surprise this year, when he spied the stack of sealed, stamped cards and said "Oh, I didn't get to sign the cards." I still didn't think much of it, until later that day, he asked "So, do you mind if I take the cards to the woods so I can decorate them?" Of course I was hesitant (the woods and holiday greetings seems like a recipe for disaster), but I figured he'd forget them. He didn't. He took the entire stack of cards to the river and returned with them a few days later - the envelopes are a sight. Images of trees, rivers, critters, chimney smoke, and even the faces of the card's recipient. He decorated every single card he took with him.  I was disappointed that I had already mailed some of the cards before he discovered the stack.

I mailed his decorated envelopes and showed him that I had written a few more. That morning he sat happily at the table adding adornment to the remaining cards - giggling on occasion as he drew this or that. Who knew who much joy something so simple could bring?

Life's simple pleasures.

Sideshow continues.....

U. Florida’s University Gallery Featured Historical Circus Banners

one way shipping

In our little campus galleries, we don't often pay shippers to move art. Generally, we have staff rent a truck to move it or we hire art students. We have a teeny, tiny budget for the year and most of that money goes to receptions and print materials. Today, I requested a shipping quote for 20 pieces of art - 10 paintings and 10 sculptures - to come from NYC to FLA in April. The quote I received was $4662.00 - one way.

So, today we are discussing the possibility of canceling the show and I'm considering my new career as an art shipper.

A Heather in Wolf's Clothing

After an evening masquerading as a wolf, I decided I prefer to be a Heather.

Wolves are scary. Heathers, generally, are not.

"I thought you was a city girl!"

"I didn't know you was no country girl!" my friend, the art school janitor, yelled across the hall to me this morning. She wasn't heckling me; it was a statement of admiration and understanding (loud though it may have been)- and when she said it, I felt good.

She and I bumped into each other at Alachua County Farm and Feed about a month ago on a Saturday morning. She was buying collard starts, I was buying lettuce starts. She didn't recognize me in my pony tail and gardening clothes and apologized to me the next week when she saw me at the gallery, explaining that she was so surprised to see me there that she forgot my name. Since then, whenever I see her, she asks me about my garden and I ask about hers. We discuss what is working and what isn't, which bugs are the worst and how planting under the full moon was the best thing we could have done for our fall crop.

Today her smile and stories transformed my day and my attitude. Today I am proud to be a country girl.

Let me see your tongue

Each week for the past four, my physical therapist has given me this directive. "Let me see your tongue" So, I abide - not sticking it out and saying 'aaaahhh' for better tonsil viewing - she really just wants to see my actual tongue. Apparently, because she is a doctor of Chinese Medicine, she can determine how my entire body is functioning just by that one act. My tongue has been purple/ pink and not too shiny - it should be pinky/red & shiny. The purple tint indicates blockages and pain in the body - when it is more pale than shiny - that tells you the body is weakened or possibly anemic. She also looks at the coating and then the regions of  my tongue to get more info - she can tell if I have a cold or flu or other infection, if I've been having trouble sleeping, if I'm constipated, if I've been depressed. After I stick out my tongue, she asks me questions to confirm what she has learned.

My therapy has been for a strained rotator cuff, but we talk often about how an injured shoulder can only heal well if the body is in optimal condition to help it. So, she is using acupuncture, ultrasound, cold laser, and massage therapy to put my whole being back in order. Once a week, for an hour and a half, I feel pampered and  cared for by a doctor who has my best interest in mind. She doesn't rush me to heal, and, instead, encourages me to be patient and enjoy the healing process, because pain and suffering create awareness, and with healing is growth.

the circus is leaving town

For the past 6 weeks, I've been surrounded by the bearded lady, lobster boy, rubber boy, the tallest man, the smallest woman, the queen of tattoo, half rat/ half rabbit, Gaucho, the world's smallest horse - all ALIVE!!!! At least they were at one time, maybe not anymore. All are gigantic banner paintings of real people & animals who spent their lives on display in the sideshows that used to travel with circuses such as Ringling Bros, Barnum & Bailey and Hall & Christ.

Each Friday at noon, we've had performances to celebrate the excitement and daring of the circus. Aerial dancers, mod dancers, jazz ensembles, and even a sword swallower entertained us.

The show and performances brought people who have never been to the gallery - including circus animal trainers and retired performers. All with memories and a great love of the big top.

Bittersweet to say goodbye to the banners and their stories. Until next time the circus comes to town.....

momentum

A previous student, Salisu, emailed me this week. He asked about my life and I brought him up to speed.  His question to me was "Why are you are working at the University again? I thought you returned to Florida to follow your dream." "My dream?" I wondered to myself. What was my dream?
Isn't it- wasn't it - hasn't it always been - to explore, to learn, to teach, to eat, to share, to laugh, to love, to be loved, to play, to give, to take, to hope, to win, to fail, to always always keep keeping on????
What I know about me and what I guess I failed to explain clearly to my dear friend is that my dream is always to dream bigger, to do more - differently, each time than what I've done before.
This, unfortunately, isn't measurable and doesn't fit into a five year plan.
My dream is to move forward, to know more people, to have more experiences, to make a small difference in the world every single day.
I figure, if I'm going to dream - why not dream big?

Back in Gainesville, back to work, back to school, back, back, back.

senior envy

For a mere $10, a person or couple aged 62 or over, who happen to travel the US in the same car, can own a Golden Age Pass. This magic card not only has a pretty picture, but it grants you unlimited entry to US National Parks and Federal Recreational areas - for the rest of your life. For a one-time fee of $10, a senior citizen can see the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Smoky Mountains National Park, Yellowstone, Crater Lake, and so much more - and you can put up to 3 other adults your car(these adults don't have to be 62).  The whole US is at your fingertips, seniors, so -  GO - pay the equivalent of one dinner at Shoney's and see this amazing country.

For those of us 62 and under, we can purchase a pass for $80 per year. Still an unbelievable deal when individual park entries range from $20 - $30 per car.

sometimes you walk

james and i have gone approximately 80 miles by foot in the past month. never a strenuous journey - never running - never carrying a heavy load. just casually walking through the forests of tennessee, kentucky, virginia and north carolina. just to see what is there. just to hear the birds and sit in waterfalls. the more we walk the more we realize that we can never walk enough, we can never see enough, we never be outside enough. we need our time to be quiet, to reflect, to exercise, and to energize. we need it so that we can continue being normal every other day that we live and breathe. we need it like we need food and air and water. we need to be outside, we need to walk. we think other people must also need it, yet, mostly on our walks, we see no other person or people.

we walk to live. to cope. to be normal. we invite all others to walk outside for the same reasons.

tired feet - happy heart

Today was filled with my favorite things.....Lazy morning, Indian buffet at Mela in Asheville, hiking with good friends in Pisgah Forest (once again a longer hike than anticipated, followed by a double scoop ice cream cone (one scoop Moose Tracks, one scoop coffee) at Dolly's Dairy Bar. Now I'm sleepy and watching my friends make dinner. I love summer vacation.

ready or not

sometimes you do things that you are ready for. you go to the grocery and you have your list. you go to school and you have completed your homework. you go to cut your grass and your lawnmower has fuel. it's simple. you have advance notice of your task - and you do it.
sometimes you do things that you aren't so prepped to complete. you show up at the grocery and you don't really know what what you need. you go to work and you forgot to finish that excel spreadsheet. or - like James and me - you go on a hike - thinking that you were ready for 2. 5 miles - you are stretched  - you have food - you have energy - you are good to go - yet... the hike is longer, higher, harder, and it never seems to end. You stop for snacks underneath a giant old oak and you talk about the fact that you've been walking for 3 hours yet you seem to be nowhere near the end... you walk a bit more and you stop and drink some water and take another look at the sad little campground map... you walk another half hour past that and you resist the urge to sit on the rock and instead keep walking almost vertically - up - to the next point - "I'm sure it was supposed to take two - three hours."  Finally, you admit that you don't know where you are, where you've been or what might happen next and you turn around. Maybe you are defeated a bit, because you didn't finish the hike, the journey, the goal. But the reality is, you tried, you did something, you made the effort, you went outside, you were alive - today. So, who cares how high, how far, how hard you went? You went - that's all that matters.

avoid'n the rain

when all that sits between you and a potluck is a violent rainstorm... you might miss the potluck.

today has been worth a million bucks.
farm tour 2010 has been our motivation. firefly farm our destination.
for the past two days - we've counted visitors, shared info about the farm, played with puppies, told stories, heard a few, gone for a swim in the south toe river, picked some greens, made a salad.
life is good. we're sleepy.
and as the rain finally falls, we're sure glad we're the ones on the porch.

mountain retreat

James and I headed north last Tuesday. Our plans keep changing, so we weren't sure where our first stop would be. We drove through Georgia without even a brief hesitation and ended up in southeastern Tennessee before ever blinking an eye. Though we didn't know we were going there, when we arrived in Cherokee National Forest in the Chilhowee Campground, we both knew we'd stay for a few days at least.
Our last visit to the campground was two years ago during a forced evacuation from New Orleans for Hurricane Gustav. We ended up therequite accidentally after spending a few days in Alabama with our good friends Jill and Pinky. We couldn't return to NOLA yet and knew we needed to retreat to nature, so we headed northeast toward the NC mountains. We arrived in TN, saw the Ocoee River, and I (in a rare moment of bossiness:) demanded a cabin by the water. Alas, no cabins were available, yet the nice park ranger pointed toward the mountain and told us to head 7 miles north. We followed his instructions - drove to camp spot C12 and stayed there for the next four days. We couldn't remember what we did during that time, but we knew there were trails and a waterfall.

So, on Tuesday when we arrived, we were surprised at how much we remembered and didn't remember of that journey. We followed the trail that wound its way to Benton Falls and we sat at the top of the falls the first day. The next day we returned again and sat at the bottom of the falls. Other people came and went. We watched them and we watched the water. We took walks, smelled the green of the forest, and the reddish brown dirt, we read a little, talked a little, and felt amazingly complete and content. Some places in the world are meant for healing and recharging - this one serves that purpose for us.

ticks and giggles

goats and chiggers.... all is well in florida's swampy santa fe river. i have counted 24 chiggers bites acquired in the four days that i have been adventuring around. 5 ticks have made attempts at implantation in my legs and arms. 3 goats have roamed freely and without invitation on martha's land. we have chased them away 4 times and encountered evidence of their visits on seven different occasions. we have canoed twice, kayaked once, and gone swimming in 3 springs. we have grilled out and made pizzas, one time each. 5 friends have come to visit and we've spent time - just the two of us. life is itchy. but, sometimes, itchy is good.

driving the shuttle

riding on the shuttle this a.m. i sat up front close to the driver - a woman who was ready to tell a story. over the roar of the engine and the chatter of those around - she shared her adventures as a bus driver. Lakers fans dressed from head to toe in bright purple and yellow, couples who arrived with no pants, parties that never stopped and people falling in and out of the bus, nephews and nieces embarrassed to be seen with their parents, aunts and uncles.... she talked and talked and laughed and laughed and in the end as i left, she told me that she loved her job. so far, she is my favorite part of this day.

sharing stories

I met Julia Alvarez at the American Association of Museums Conference today. She was the keynote speaker. I missed her talk. I was on a tour of the Southwestern Museum of the American Indian and didn't get back in time. However, I went to her book signing. I waited in line and I talked with people - they hadn't read her books but they loved her talk.

When it was my turn to have a book signed, she began writing my name and signing my copy. I began speaking without knowing what I would say. I told her that I read 'In the Time of Butterflies' durning a period of great tragedy in my life - I had just experienced the death of one of my dearest friends - a nurse, a wife, a young mother. I carried Ms. Alvarez's book with me on the plane, to the funeral, and in the month's following. I read it slowly and with an aching heart - I needed to share the pain of loss and life with someone who wouldn't try to make me feel better, but who would let me take the time I needed to understand what had happened.  Her writing helped me mourn the loss of my friend and to cope with continuing to live without this important person in my life.

To this day I cannot think of Julia Alvarez without thinking of her role in my life. Ms. Alvarez sat quietly as I told her why I came to see her today - calmly, simply, without tears. When I finished she handed me my book and thanked me for sharing just a little of my story. I, in turn, thanked her for writing.

grapes for the table - grapes for the glass

Photos by Kathy A. McDonald


Attended a locavore dinner featuring foods and wines from within 110 miles of Santa Barbara last night. After being in transit from FLA for most of the day, I was pleasantly surprised to be seated next to a warm and welcoming organic farmer, Tom Shepherd, and his wife, Susan. In the third course, carrots from their farm were served as a side to grilled sea bass, paired with a lovely Cimarone 2009 Sauvignon Blanc, and were the most delightful vegetable of the evening.

The Shepherds lease land a 40-acre farm, Shepherd Farms, in Carpinteria. The farm grows gorgeous red strawberries that were provided as a gift at the end of the dinner and many other vegetables, including table grapes. Tom has been a farmer leasing land since 1973 (my birth year:), and has farmed over 20 different properties, moving on as leases end or become more expensive. He is concerned that land in southern California is so costly, that though the soil is rich and the climate is perfect for farming, those trying to make a living as farmers won't be able to afford to do so. Much of his time and energy is spent educating both adults and children about food, farming, and the importance of creating farms that can sustain themselves.

Though times have been tough, they are hopeful. In recent years, interest in food production has grown, people are more concerned with where their food comes from and how it is cared for. The Shepherds receive frequent requests for farm tours and are always happily oblige. Volunteers are eager and often numerous and, this year, Shepherd Farms has its first farm apprentice.

Tom and Susan have taken their love of farm and food to another level and are working to write a book teaching children to grow food.  Susan, an artist and art historian, is providing the painted illustrations, Tom is providing the text. Together, they will share their knowledge and appreciation with the next generation of farmers.

Giving stuff

This morning, while reading an article at the Chronicle of Philanthropy, I came across One Million Jasons - an article about the problems caused by giving stuff internationally. Not necessarily used stuff - just giving things rather than money to a country not necessarily in need of or equipped to deal with the particular thing you want to send.

While in Guatemala, James and I were amazed at the countless stores selling second-hand clothes from the U.S. Every other shop in the town of Coban offered - "Ropa Americana" - American Clothes. Inside, piles and piles of clothes, shoes, belts, hats, toys, anything and everything you find in America's thrift stores and yard sales were piled high. We rarely saw anyone actually purchase anything. At first, we joked about it, but the more stores we encountered in even the smallest of Guatemalan towns, the more concerned we became.

Why are we, the U.S.ians, casting off so much stuff? We know the amount of unwanted items mounding up in trashpiles, storage facilities, and resale stores throughout our own country. Now we are aware of how much the small, Latin American country of Guatemala is receiving. How much more stuff is sent to the various other nooks and crannies of the world?

Perhaps instead of buying so much for ourselves and then donating it when we decide we don't want it, can't use it, don't like it anymore - we should not buy that something that seems like such a good deal - and, instead, send the money we saved to someone in need - let them decide whether they'd rather have a used t-shirt from Target or, perhaps, breakfast that day....