This Stick is Made for Walking

It was bound to happen. Eventually I knew there would be a day I'd want something – like a cane but not a cane – to be a little support when the old knees are particularly creaky. In fact, since I took a header last January and played smash-a-face on the front walk, I'd been looking at eBay and at craft shows for something with a bit of style. My husband beat me to it and found his own stick on eBay – the head/handle is a wonderful carving of a crouching panther with fangs bared. (His knees creak, too.) We left for vacation without me finding one of my own, but figuring that the fine craftspeople of New Hampshire might have something to offer.

The other day we walked into a local cigar shop so I could buy him the traditional vacation truly ugly cigars. They are very dark with one end tapered like a torpedo, and he smokes them outside on the porch. As I stood at the counter to pay for the ugly things, he pointed down to my left…and there it was. A walking stick of many layers of laminated wood, with a gentle twist and shaping to it, and a leather thong for the wrist. The wood was smooth and soft to the touch, and the compass in the top meant there would not be much excuse for getting lost. It was exactly right, and now it's mine!

A Playground for the Mind

Back in early June we had four delightful days in Cambridge, MA. It was Phil's mumbledy-fifth reunion at MIT, and the second time I've been able to be part of that stimulating company. While it's fun to see him reconnect with old friends, and to meet and appreciate them myself, one of the best part for me is what's known as Tech Day.

Every year as part of reunions and graduation weekend, Tech Day is presented by the MIT Alumni Association. On Saturday morning people file into Kresge Auditorium to hear about the latest work being done by Institute professors. The event is free and open to anyone who wants to stop in; if I lived in the area I'd be there every year.

This time the theme was, "Out of this World." After a welcome by MIT President Susan Hockfield, three professors held the audience in thrall.

First was Max Tegmark, Associate Professor of Physics, whose presentation was on Precision Cosmology. Starting from an aerial view of the auditorium where we sat, he drew us with him to outer space and the far reaches of the universe. Dr. Tegmark was an engaging speaker and illustrated his work with jaw-droppingly beautiful images and mind-bending representations of the size of the universe and our place as a tiny speck in an insignificant galaxy.

Still in space but closer to home, Dava Newman, Professor of Aeronautics and Astronautics and Engineering Systems was next. Dr. Newman's expertise is in human performance across the spectrum of gravity, and several of her experiments have flown on board shuttle missions and the Russian Mir space station. She is currently studying human adaptation to extreme environments including and advanced space suit design for extravehicular activity. Her BioSuit ™ won her recognition as a Best Inventor of 2007 by Time Magazine.

The final presentation began with a surprise celebrity introduction. The curtains parted and a toddler-sized creature with enormous, expressive eyes and a gentle voice rolled out to introduce her creator, Cynthia Breazeal. As Associate Professor of Media Arts and Science, Dr. Breazeal is a pioneer in social robotics and human-robot interaction. You might have seen Kismet, her appealing social robot in news stories. Her ongoing research includes developing socially intelligent robots that can interact with humans, work with people as peers, and learn from humans as apprentices.

It was only three hours out of a four-day weekend, but Tech Day alone would have been worth the trip. With such creative minds at work, I have renewed hope for the future of the human race.

Judy Collins...Still The Best

A couple of weeks ago we joined hundreds of others who remember the 1960's very clearly, thank you, in an auditorium in Columbia, MD. For more than two hours we were enchanted, charmed, and basically blown away by the wonder that is Judy Collins.

She sang the songs that we all wanted to hear, of course - "Send in the Clowns," "Both Sides Now," and my favorite, "Someday Soon." She sang a couple of Lennon/McCartney tunes, promoting her newest album. And she sang several that clearly were pieces she just loved, that told stories.

The audience of mostly gray heads clapped, whistled, and sang along. We laughed when she joked about her life; who knew she did stand-up, and did it well? She played the guitar and had only the accompaniment of a pianist. After the intermission she played the piano and sang, a virtuoso performance.

She looked as wonderful and ethereal as ever. She did not need or use over-amplified sound systems to make an impression. And what really blew us away was the clear, pure tone in her voice. It was as good as it was more than 40 years ago, if not even a bit richer and fuller. Amazing! This lady is almost 70 years old, and can out-sing, out-compose, out-play, and out-perform people half her age or less.

It was an evening of pure delight and and strong emotional "yeah!" for all of us who still have a lot to give and do in life despite our gray hair, creaky knees, and senior discounts.

If you EVER have a chance to see Judy Collins in concert - do it!

Photos from Judy Collin's Website

Cantata for Three Chainsaws

And even though I know it's just for today, and it's necessary, I'm worried. Scamp, our backyard rabbit is losing some of his hiding places. The birds are nowhere to be seen, and the squirrels have vamoosed for parts unknown.

It's the angry snarl of contrapuntal chainsaws that rips the air in our back yard this morning. Yes, we knew it was coming – they are clearing underbrush and small trees from the borders of the stream that runs through the area and eventually feeds into the Little Patuxent River and then to the Chesapeake Bay. They have to install some water control system and it will be better for all of us when it's done. Last year they met with homeowners and we walked the area as they explained what would be done and why. It all makes good sense. But oh, the noise!

Inside the house, Kira is hiding beneath my feet, and Pipsqueak has retired to the front of the house away from the noise. The robin parents who have been faithfully flying feeding missions to their nest under our deck are having trouble finding the right rafter to land on. Who knew that sound would disturb their directional system so? But after a few misdirections, they seem to have adapted and their two bobble-headed babies have their squirmy breakfasts.

I can see from my desk that three agile young men are clambering about, and already I have a clearer view of the townhomes behind us. Not that I want it, but there it is. I trust that they know what they are doing and will take only the necessary brush and trees away. But just in case, I'm keeping an eye on two of my favorite trees. And when they leave this afternoon, I'll be looking for Scamp and the squirrels who entertain Kira and me as we work.

The Whole Cat & Caboodle

Do you have previous lives? I mean the kind that many of us who have been around for mumbledy-four years have…where you've had a different career, a different focus, and put your heart and soul into a venture for a while?

For me that was Cat & Caboodle. For once I was ahead of the game, but I should have waited a few years. What I did was start a business to sell handcrafted items for cat lovers. There were no imports, no manufactured pieces – everything was hand made by a skilled American artisan. I found people who made jewelry, pottery, fiber art, and stained glass (that last one was me.) Had I waited for the Internet, I could have set up a site, had great photographs of the pieces, and reached thousands of people.

But it was 1993 and I didn't wait. Instead I created a newsletter/catalog. I wrote the copy, used scissors and rubber cement to paste up a master, trundled to the local print shop, had the issues printed on recycled paper, got a bulk-mailing permit, addressed and bundled each issue, and schlepped them to the post office. Whew! It was fun and exhilarating…and not profitable.

So after a while, Cat & Caboodle wound down. But the dream persisted of going back to it one day. And so when I started collecting domain names (doesn't everyone own several dozen???), I also bought CatAndCaboodle.com and CatNCaboodle.com as well as the .net versions of them both.

And that was it, until…

A few weeks ago I had a phone call from a delightful lady in Washington State. She had a question for me: was I interested in selling the Cat & Caboodle domain names? Hmmm. Had to think about that. I still love cats, still love fine handcrafts. But did I still want to make that a business? Honestly…yes, I would like to make it a business. But was there any chance of that happening? No. Now that I write full time, and have started a publishing company, there is exactly zero chance of me going back into handcrafts.

So yes, I would sell the domain name, and yes, we came to an agreement. In the process, I've met a new friend, and I see a name that I treasure put to good and loving use. Cat & Caboodle lives on as Cat and Caboodle.com, The Cat Lover's Gift Shop. Take a look…if you love cats, she has something you won't be able to resist.

Having Way Too Much Fun by Design

I love to learn. Almost any subject will do, too. For years after I got my college degree I found reasons to take courses in a variety of art subjects. In fact, when I took stained glass I got so hooked on the beauty of colored, textured glass, that I made it into a business for a few years. But that's another story.

A couple of weeks ago I took a basic course on InDesign, Adobe's desktop publishing program. InDesign is part of the Creative Suite that includes Photoshop and other fun stuff. I took the course because of my foray into publishing, and wanting to learn all the nitty gritty details that make a book something to be proud of. When I decided to start publishing, I was determined that any book that comes from The Silloway Press will be well written, and professionally designed, edited, and printed so that it will stand up against anything that Random House or Houghton Mifflin might publish. The hitch, of course, is that there are hundreds of years of knowledge and tradition in printing, and figuring out the most important things to learn is tough when you don't know enough to know what you don't know...y'know?

How a book looks on the inside is, I think, the third most important factor in its success, right after the title and cover design. (Yes, I know good marketing is essential, but I'm talking about the book itself here.) If you pick up a book and open it, your eyes need to feel comfortable with the margins, the font style, the size of the text, how the pages are numbered, and all the other things you don't even notice specifically but that create a positive or negative emotion. And all that designing is one of the many things you can do with InDesign. Even if I don't end up doing the book design, I wanted to understand what's involved.

Well, the course was exactly what I wanted. We had a small group and a terrific teacher - Chrissy Waldron - and the hours of the two days were packed with useful learning. I was exhausted at the end and absolutely couldn't wait to play some more. When the second level course runs later this summer, I'll be there.

Now, of course, my dilemma is that I have a new toy and want to play. But I also want to have hours to bill at the end of the month, so I'm having to control my desire to poke around and try all the cool tools in the program. Designing a marketing postcard for Real Estate the Rome Way was a good excuse to get in there and see how much I remembered.

A couple of days later I designed business cards for the publishing company for more practice...what do you think?

The Predicted Blizzard Arrived

It happens every year. In spring, just as the daffodils are fading and the tulips are nodding toward the sun, the pink blizzard arrives. It was forecast. We knew it would come. It did not disappoint us.
This year has seen particularly deep drifts among the flower beds with accumulations of up to an inch on the sidewalk. The grass is almost covered, and like the winter white stuff, we track it into the house on our shoes. Every morning we clear the walk and by evening it has drifted over. We stamp our feet and drag our shoes across the door mat trying to dislodge the sticky bits, then give up and just walk in leaving tiny pink puddles behind.


Now there's another forecast: high winds and turbulence. That would be the vacuum cleaner picking up those bits of pink. We don't mind at all.