And the Livin' Is Easy

So, summer is flying by and I can't help but wonder how it can already be almost the middle of July. Here in the mountains, we have only just begun to have any rain at all. The hiking trails have been very dusty, the wild flowers somewhat sparse. Now, that the rains seem to be sputtering to a start, I am looking forward to wild strawberries and raspberries on the edge of the trail.  There is nothing tastier!

We had a great 4th of July with family and friends, the fishing has been good for those who love to fish, the conversation at the end of the day has been lively with lots of laughter and memories of past summers and adventures. The dog has managed to catch a brook trout by the tail (briefly), have an encounter with a porcupine (unfortunately), and learn that baby calves' mothers are not to be trifled with (thankfully). She also caught a chipmunk and drowned it by dunking it repeatedly in the river when it refused to quit squirming. We have to call it The Circle of Life to keep from getting too maudlin around here.

I swear I am reading. I may not write about my book(s) until the end of the summer because aforementioned book(s) is/are extremely lengthy. I have also developed an addiction to playing Spider. For the uninitiated, Spider is a form of Solitaire available on IPad. It is a great way to end the day. It would probably be a great way to spend the day, but I am saved from that fate by the call of the outdoors and a dog who will only put up with a modicum of inactivity during daylight hours.

I am meeting one or two of my daughters in Aspen this weekend for a "girl trip." It is a chance for me to get haircut and color, go to great boutiques and restaurants with them, ride mountain bikes down to town from Maroon Bells, and just delight in the company of my precious girls.

Enjoy this summer with those you love. Play washers and pitch horseshoes, shoot targets at the gun range, fish and float some beautiful water, do jigsaw puzzles, play Bananagram, Scrabble, and Uno, climb a tree, build a fort or hide-out in the woods, hold hands and walk a road at sunset. Cook something new, invite friends over for homemade ice cream or watermelon. Wade in the creek, swim in a lake or river, ride a horse, play "Fetch" with a dog. Time is fleeting. Life is short. Savor every moment.

Summertime

   It might appear that I have been slacking off as far as reading goes. I can hardly believe that there hasn't been a new post on my website since March. I will give reasons (you might insert "excuses", if that suits you) for my lack of posting.

1. For the first 2 months, I didn't read anything I considered blog-worthy. Yes, I have been reading, but mostly very fluffy, uninteresting stuff. One of my biggest faults is an inability to close a book and walk away once I have started it, no matter how bad the book may be. What is the reason for such nonsense? Simply, I cannot imagine spending money on a Kindle download or an actual book and not finishing it. I am definitely a product of my VERY thrifty Scottish, Irish and German forebearers. Also, Hope Springs Eternal that the book will actually get better if I continue reading it. The number of times THAT has actually happened I can count on one hand!

2. I spent a few weeks in there recovering from hand and arm surgery. (Do I hear the sound of violins and soft, murmuring sighs and sobs?) I will not bore my readers with the details. Suffice it to say, it was follow-up surgery to remove scar tissue and plates from an unfortunate automobile  accident a couple of years ago. Typing was out-of-the-question for awhile is all I am saying. Excuse or reason? You be the judge.

3. I have migrated to the cabin in Creede. Now, that is not actually a reason  not to write all by itself. But, coming to the cabin  causes amazing physiological, psychological and spiritual changes. After the flurry of activity to "get settled", i.e., unpack, move around furniture, fill hummingbird feeders, wonder Why On Earth I brought so many clothes that I will not wear and forgot the pecans in the freezer, my Capo for my guitar, the right socks for hiking and my favorite sweater, it is TIME TO PLAY OUTSIDE. Playing Outside entails any number of activities depending on who is participating.  My husband,  Ed, considers fence-building, water-line laying, collecting river rocks for a fireplace,  transplanting willows, putting the boat together and fly-fishing as splendid ways to pass the time. I have a different approach. Hiking, hiking and hiking are on my daily agenda. With my dog, Babe, I can wander around these mountains for hours on end. Every hike holds the possibility of adventure, good and bad. We have been chased off the trail by coyotes, we have watched Canadian geese teach their babies to swim, we have been pelted with hail, rain, sleet and snow, and watched the sun set in a glory of pink, violet and orange. I have fallen into creeks on water crossings gone bad and shivered for the two
hour walk back to the car at the trailhead. I have learned to Be Still. I can sit on a rock by a stream and listen to the water until I am hypnotized by its sound, or climb up, up, up to an aspen grove that is a perfect place to have a picnic of peanut butter crackers and water that I share with my faithful Labrador.

The mountains are a spiritual stronghold for me. I can let go of all the trappings and complications of my life and revel in this place of indescribable beauty and grandeur. The smaller I am in my surroundings, the greater the significance of each labored breath as I climb.  The gratitude I feel for being right here, in each step, is profound. I understand why John Muir wrote "The mountains are calling, and I must go." The summons cannot be ignored and the rewards afforded by the solitude and struggle fill my soul and heart completely. I am at peace.

So, I have wandered around for the past couple of weeks on my favorite trails and re-acclimated (somewhat) to the thin air and the rocky paths I follow. But, I am reading, too. I will relate my latest discovery in literature when I finish it. In the meantime, I urge you to go play outside- alone or with friends and family. You will not be sorry.

North, To Alaska

   I have to confess to being quite overwhelmed by the current media obsession with All-Things- Alaska. It seems that there is suddenly a plethora of reality television shows devoted to our 49th state. On any given day, one can view Deadliest Catch, Ice Truckers, Flying Wild Alaska, Gold Rush, and Sarah Palin's Alaska. Every single show fascinates me- perhaps, because I became enamored with Alaska when my husband and I visited several years ago. In fact, we became such fans of Southeast Alaska's Tongass Wilderness, that we try to return ever year to hike, kayak, fly-fish, watch whales, bears, birds and just revel in the glory of old-growth forests in the largest temperate rainforest in the world.

   The beauty, wildness and lure of Alaska cannot  be overstated. Although HD television goes a long way in showing the breath-taking panoramas and natural vistas, as well as the dangerous remoteness of much of the state, visiting Alaska is far superior to an armchair tour by remote control. The state is extreme in every way imaginable- the temperature fluctuations, the sheer number of species of flora and fauna, the vastness of the land relative the number of people who inhabit it, the natural resources that bless the land above and below the surface. It only stands to reason that a place this unusual, this far away geographically, must have an extraordinary history.

   On our first Alaskan eco-adventure, Ed and I were fortunate to be with a group of very learned and respected students of Southeast's geography, geology, ecology and history. A book that kept coming up in lectures and conversation was Where the Sea Breaks Its Back, by Corey Ford. As the cover states, it is "The Epic Story of Early Naturalist Georg Steller and the Russian Exploration of Alaska." Prior to our visit, I was completely ignorant of Georg Steller, the young German naturalist, scientist, botanist, and physician who accompanied Vitus Bering on his ill-fated expedition to the Aleutian Islands. Steller was a brilliant, tenacious, complicated man. He discovered, on his brief trip ashore, Steller's Jay, Steller's Eider, Steller's Eagle, and Steller's White Raven.  In the ocean, Steller's Sea Cow, Steller's Sea Monkey, and Steller's Greenling are all credited to him, as well as the first recordings of flora and fauna of the new land discovered in the far reaches of the North Pacific. The path that led to the Aleutian Islands was tortured for the men who made the voyage with Bering and Steller. The return to Russia was even more perilous, and the member's of the expedition aboard the St. Peter suffered some of the most horrific experiences of Arctic exploration. Where the Sea Breaks Its Back is a story that explores the personalities, politics, and plans that led to the Bering expedition's sputtering start and tragic ending. It is a riveting tale of the race among nations to find a new way to the New World and claim the resources there.

   No matter what you have read about the early history of Alaska and the vast numbers of fur-bearing animals that inhabited it, this book will astound and shock you. The wholesale slaughter of sea otters that led them to the brink of extinction is sickening. The treatment and slavery that was endured by the native people is heart-breaking.  This story is a cautionary tale that presents a rational, historical argument for good stewardship of the land and waters that is Alaska. No matter how peculiar and difficult Steller was, he was, first and foremost, a brilliant  scientist and naturalist. Surely, no one else could have recorded so faithfully and accurately  observations of a land so strange and wonderful. Sadly, some of his discoveries were extinct within only a few years of his voyage and we have only his sketches and descriptions of these lost species.

   If you enjoy adventure,  real and historical, then Ford's book is a must-read. If you are just interested in channel-surfing, I understand a new series on Alaska taxidermy begins in April. Either way, Alaska and its ongoing evolution is compelling. I urge anyone who has the slightest desire to see what all the fuss is about to book a trip as soon as possible.

The Game's Afoot!

   Who doesn't love Sherlock Holmes?  The razor- sharp intellect, ascerbic wit, aching melancholy and mystery of his personality- I adore the character created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I loved all the Holmes stories, and still enjoy watching the old Sherlock Holmes movies starring Basil Rathbone, the Young Sherlock Holmes movie, and the latest Holmes incarnation featuring Robert Downey, Jr. Yes, there have been many different actors playing Holmes and Watson, and I have enjoyed watching most of them.

   I do, however, often take exception when writers attempt to ride the coat tails of highly successful authors of iconic books and characters. Everyone has read sequels to long-standing classics written years later that are grievously disappointing. Most attempts to extend the stories of beloved heroes and heroines fall very flat.

   There are, happily, exceptions to these botched attempts.  Laurie R. King has taken the beloved Mr. Holmes, Watson and others into their respective futures and done a commendable job of it. What if Sherlock Holmes were to meet and fall in love with a young (very young) woman who is as complicated and intelligent he is? Enter, Mary Russell, in Ms. King's book, The Bee Keeper's Apprentice. Mary Russell and Holmes meet under very interesting circumstances at a low point in each of their lives. They develop a mentor- student relationship which, over time, blossoms into a delightful and totally plausible romance given their shared interests, individual quirks, eccentricities and intelligence. And, perhaps best of all, THIS IS A SERIES! As I have written before, I hate coming to the end of a rollicking good tale with well-developed characters. It is just depressing to finish a book and wonder, "But then what happened to them? I am invested in these people, dammit!" Not to worry with Mary and Sherlock- there are quite a few books after the first one and they are fun to read. Ms. King gives little history lessons along the way, and many of the people to cross paths with Sherlock and Mary are straight out of the early 20th century. You've got to love it!

   Purists, give this series a chance, I implore you. I, too, was skeptical of the concept, but these books have good characters, great atmosphere and plot development, and are not even slightly cheesy or silly.

   I am told that some followers of this blog (do I actually have followers?!?!) are perusing it for possible book club selections. The Bee Keeper's Apprentice would be a perfect choice for group discussion.

   But, that is, "Elementary, my dear Watson."

 

Unbroken- A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience and Redemption

   Any books about World War II are very likely to hold my attention. My uncle, Brigadier General David Lee"Tex" Hill was one of the most highly decorated naval aviators of American military history flying as one of Claire Chennault's original Flying Tigers in the American Volunteer Group.  His story, which has been the subject of many books and even a movie starring John Wayne was familiar to me from the time I was a very young child. Having the opportunity to meet other heroes of that era was an incredible privilege and honor. These friends  of my uncle were invariably kind, interesting and, in my eyes, incredibly glamorous and brave. Some of them had been POWs during WW II or the Vietnam War. Colonel Bud Day, the most highly decorated military man since General Douglas MacArthur was my mother's lawyer and a close friend of Uncle David's. He is a remarkable man and I cannot fathom how he was able to survive the torture and degradation he was subjected to during his five years and seven months in a North Vietnam prison camp. His story has been recorded in several books and is definitely worth reading.

   So, obviously, I am deeply moved by the stories I read about the men who served our country during the 2nd World War or any conflict in which our country has been involved. Over the past few months, many of my friends have told me that I had to read Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. I read Seabiscuit by Ms Hillenbrand some years ago and was impressed by the depth of her research and the incredible detail she provided about the lives of the jockeys, trainers and horses during the 1930s. I knew, from that book and from the rave reviews of my friends, that Unbroken was equally well-researched. The author had the added advantage of spending many hours with Louie Zamperini to talk with him personally about his life.

   I believe we all need heroes. If I have to look back 60 years to find those who I can really look up to, so be it. At least, thanks to Laura Hillenbrand, I have a new story of courage and grace to ponder.

   Louie Zamperini grew up in Torrance, California, the son of Italian immigrants. From an early age, Louie was incorrigible. He was completely uncontrollable and, in present time, would undoubtedly be a prime candidate for any number of drugs to control his behavior. Eventually, Louie's brother, Pete, introduces him to the sport of running, and Louie Zamperini became one of the most famous collegiate and amateur runners of the time competing in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin and smashing records wherever he ran. When the war started, Louis left USC for the service and ended up a bombardier in the Pacific theatre. His plane was shot down, he and two others drifted thousands of miles on a life raft  only to be captured by the Japanese. The torture and humiliation Louie and his fellow prisoners are subjected to is horrific. As I read the account, I was struck by two things- 1) How indomitable the human spirit is, and, 2) Man's inhumanity to man. Reading about the indoctrination of the Japanese people from earliest childhood to hate anyone who was not ethnically pure (read: Japanese), is appalling. Of course, the same sort of indoctrination was concurrently being applied to the German people.  How, I wonder, do we continue to repeat this incredible, ugly sin of prejudice and bigotry? What is in the darkest part of ourselves,  that longs to feel superior to others because of our skin color or the circumstances and place of birth?

   Louie survives his incarceration, returns to the United States and tries to pick up his life again. Please read this book. It is incredibly well-researched, beautifully written and will give the reader much to ponder for quite a long time. What happens to Louie Zamperini after the war is a powerful testament to love, grace and forgiveness.

I Am Woman, Hear Me...

   Back in the day, when Men Were Men and women were generally more retiring and not as adventurous as they are today, there were Those Women who scandalized, intrigued and caught the imagination of the world by their daring and brave forays into untamed lands and wilderness. I have read biographies and autobiographies of these women and I am fascinated by their achievements and bravery. Many people have seen Out of Africa, based on the book of the same title by Karen Blixen, aka Isak Dinesen. Another book that I  found fascinating is West with the Night, by Beryl Markham.

   Beryl Markham arrived in East Africa in 1906 at the age of four. Her mother beat a hasty retreat to England, leaving her daughter in the care of her husband, a horse-breeder and trainer. Beryl grew up a child of Africa, spending time with the native children and living in  the benign neglect that led to self-reliance that would stand her in good stead in the years to come. Her autobiography is a beautifully written story of her life in East Africa, of the people she encountered and befriended, and of a life filled with adventure and challenge. There is some controversy surrounding the authorship of West with the Night. Markham's third husband claimed to have ghost-written the book, but, no matter, it is still a great read. Anyway, I prefer to think he was jealous of all the attention his ex-wife received upon the book's publication. Friends and lovers abound in the pages and the danger of living in a place over-run with wild animals is never discounted. Her love for Africa and its people is apparent, as well as her acceptance of the inherent risk of living in such a place. Beryl Markham was a very glamorous and accomplished woman, but her life was filled with much sadness and tragedy. Reading West with the Night is a  great opportunity to revel in the glorious Africa of a bygone era when so much opportunity existed for those brave enough to face an untamed and unspoiled land. It also gives the reader a chance to reflect on the "what ifs" that hind-sight affords the student of history.

   Where do I begin to write about The Lady and the Panda? I suppose I begin with the book's complete title, The Lady and the Panda: The True Adventure of the First American Explorer to Bring Back China's Most Exotic Animal. Whew! Henceforth, I will use the abbreviated title. I had no idea, previous to reading this book, that the first giant panda was brought to America in the arms of Ruth Harkness, a fashion designer and socialite. Harkness was determined to find, capture and bring home a panda after her husband, Bill Harkness, died of throat cancer in Shanghai before he could accomplish the task. This story is absolutely amazing. Besides giving a great description of life in China in the 1930's for expatriates and adventurers, it details the incredible expeditions into the wilderness and mountains to find, kill and/or capture all types of wildlife. Granted, it was a different time and people were blissfully ignorant of the folly of wholesale slaughter of exotic species, but it is chilling to read the documentation of these hunting trips. Please understand, I come from a family of sportsmen and hunters. I am not opposed to hunting. I am, however, horrified at the slaughter of wildlife just for the glory of killing. I am also not a big fan of most zoo and animal exhibits. But this story is fascinating. It is, warts and all, a heroic tale of a woman determined to see a task through to the end. Ruth Harkness was a strong and resourceful woman who did what no man had been able to accomplish- to bring a healthy, giant panda out of the wilds of the Chinese mountains and cut through the nightmare of bureaucracy to transport the animal safely to the United States. The methods she used to get from A to Z make a terrific story.

   Read The Lady and the Panda,  by Vicki Croke. Perhaps you will come to the logical conclusion that I did concerning why it "took a woman to do a man's job." In my opinion, this was NEVER a man's job! Let me know what you think.

 

Music For Chameleons

   For some reason, I really have had a difficult time deciding what book to cover this time. I had finally narrowed it down to two autobiographies. I was researching the authors, about to flip a coin, and decided to take a break to string some beads at my studio. Upon returning home I was spinning my revolving bookcase and my eyes fell upon Music for Chameleons by Truman Capote.

   I have always loved Capote's literary style. I read A Christmas Memory when I was in my early teens and I was hooked. The author had a distinctly southern point-of-view and a sweet melancholy that was heart-breaking in its simplicity. My family has deep roots in the South and I could relate to the characters and the landscape painted so beautifully in this slim volume.

   Truman Capote was extremely complicated. Just read Breakfast at Tiffany's, In Cold Blood, The Grass Harp, -his range was unbelievable. I must confess, I find some of  Capote's writing uneven. But, with all that has been written about his tumultuous life, that is to be expected. He was certainly a creative genius and, like so many gifted artists, tortured and self-destructive.

   A few years ago, when my mother was nearing the end of what is euphemistically referred to in our family as "the fourth quarter," I spent a a great deal of time trying to find books to engage her mind and divert her attention from the constant pain she was experiencing. Laura Paige and I were reading lots of Truman Capote books and comparing notes, when we came across Music For Chameleons, a collection of short stories. Now, I rarely read short stories because, well, they are "short." As I stated in an earlier blog, I am always sad to come to the end of a good book. With that in mind, why would I want to invest myself emotionally in a plot and characters that leave me high-and -dry after less than an hour? But, because of my great love for Truman Capote's work, and for my mother's comfort, I read the book. My mother adored Truman Capote and always stated that, given a chance to have a anyone in the world sitting next to her at a dinner party, she would pick him.

   Well, reading Music for Chameleons may have been the next best thing. The stories are as wide-ranging and entertaining as, well, as I imagine a conversation with Truman Capote would have been. He writes of his friendship with Marilyn Monroe in A Beautiful Child. Who, better, to explore the emotional torment of a gifted, misunderstood soul, than another gifted, misunderstood soul? Handcarved Coffins is a lengthy and fascinating true-crime story in the style of In Cold Blood. But my favorite story is Music for Chameleons. The descriptive, beautiful prose takes you to a place and  time far removed from the present. How much of the story is true, and how much is a product of the author's imagination is not important. It is a lovely story in brilliant colors and images.

   My mother was delighted with the book. We had some wonderful conversations about the stories and our impressions. What a gift great writing and good literature are to those who read! Not only are individual readers blessed by what is read, the opportunity to share a treasured story with loved ones and discuss one another's reactions and thoughts is a way to connect when other avenues are closed. Generations are bridged, differences are put aside and conversation can take place on common ground- a love of the printed page.