Journeys

"A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are for."

- Benazir Bhuto

I have to be up front: I borrowed/stole this quote from Pasadena Daily Photo, a blog belonging to Petrea Burchard. She has just completed her first novel. Having conceived of the idea, she wrote it, polished it and, rather than hide it away, she's sent it off in search of a publisher. The manuscript is now making the rounds of the editors, risking being sent back with a rejection slip. That takes courage. But she's doing it. She'll never know whether she might get to enjoy seeing her book published unless she's willing to risk its rejection.

I am working on my own book, struggling to put the words in the correct order, to clearly express my ideas. This writing stuff is hard. I research, take notes and try to shape the story in a way that is both compelling and interesting, so that the reader will just naturally want to do further reading beyond my own small book. It scares me. It's taking me away from the comfort zone of dreams into the real work of achieving a goal. I try to maintain the courage of my conviction, as stated in the above quote.

A friend and I had a saying, when talking about our own boat, that "there are two kinds of boat owners - floaters and boaters." Floaters kept their boat tied to the dock, maintained it, shared beer with their buddies and rarely took it for more than a short spin around their "pool," while boaters left the marinas for long trips. For years, we worked on our boat, upgrading it, repairing it, painting and scraping it (my job!), but it was never "ready." We were in danger of becoming another pair of the dreaded "floaters," until we realized the boat would never be ready, we'd just have to go. And so we did.

The picture is from one of those first trips. Along with several other sternwheel boats we traveled the Ohio River from Marietta, Ohio to Wheeling, West Virginia. It became an adventure, one that, for me, helped me to find a sense of confidence that's never left me, and helped me to realize that I could achieve far more than I'd ever thought possible.

I try to keep that in mind as I work on my book. Every day.

    

White Flowers

It rained all night and was gray all day. Ordinarily, that would make for a gloom-fest of high order, but it was such a relief after days of the sun's glare I was glad for the opportunity to take a long walk without being worried about dehydration.

For my efforts, I did get pictures of these nice, white flowers and one of a mama mallard, nibbling grass along the shaded creek bank with the remains of her brood.

Play Date

On Tuesday, teachers and counselors from the Hawthorne Community Center brought their small charges to Speedway's Meadowood Park. As you can see there were a lot of happy children climbing, swinging and clambering over the various slides, swings and walls. Sadly, this visit was a special event for the children, who do not have access to comparable facilities in their neighborhood.

Obviously, they were all using every possible moment from this excursion to try out the climbing walls and a contemporary version of the "monkey bars" I enjoyed when I was a kid, before climbing on the waiting school bus to return to their class rooms, then home.

As an adult, I found the best, most surprising part to be that tan pavement you can see in the third picture. When I stepped on it I was really startled because it felt as though I was standing on my bed; it is springy and cushioned to absorb the contact from stumbles and falls, I suppose like a gymnast's floor exercise mat. 

Just Because It's Pretty

It seems as though everybody who has a yard or a porch with planters has a hibiscus bush or two. I just happened on this one flower, reaching its perfect self towards the sun. Beautiful lines, beautiful light. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Pancake in the Creek

I went out today looking for one thing, but ended up with quite another. I saw kids playing at our neighborhood park, people doing yard work, and others toiling away at home improvement projects. But wouldn't ya know, the thing that struck my fancy was this little guy basking on a piece of stone. He's a spiny soft-shelled turtle, official name Apalone spinifera, that I first thought was a leaf, fallen on the stone in the middle of the creek.

The turtle I saw was about the same size as it appears on screen, which means he's probably immature; apparently they can become quite large, with females of the species living up to 50 years. Their shell is not hard, but flexible, especially at the edges. According to the information I read, they're really graceful in the water and like to eat such things as minnows and worms. They can lie submerged for hours, with just their snout above water, waiting for a juicy tidbit.

What I find odd is that I had gone looking for the common snapping turtle,  Chelydra serpentina, but found this little fella instead, which habituates the Mississippi River drainage area, including the Ohio and Allegheny Rivers. The urban creek where this guy resides is about 90 to 100 miles inland from the Ohio River. 

Hmm, more research and additional inquiries needed.

I just received an E-mail from Sarabeth Klueh, a herpetologist with the Indiana Department of Natural Resources, who identified the turtle as a spiny soft-shell, rather than a smooth soft-shell turtle. She said that projections can be seen just behind its head. I've changed the copy to reflect that information.

Welcome Mat

At first glance, I thought a wind gust from an overnight storm had blown a welcome mat from a neighbor's doorway onto the sidewalk. Instead, it was a manhole cover, it's grooves filled with little seed thing-ys from a nearby tree. In the morning light, the cover had taken on a tufted appearance, full of spring color.


Welcome to the neighborhood!

Face Time

Say "Hello" to Matt and Freddie, who between them have nearly 50 years' experience as sign painters. These men were spending their work day installing signage on a local business, which consisted of a lot of very large graphic decals. While the men are grateful for the work, they have watched over the years as their skills have become marginalized and unappreciated.

In a world where everything seems to be done by computer graphics programs, then printed both in large scale and large volume onto sticky-backed vinyl, their ability to limn a design onto a wall, then control the flow of paint from their brushes is becoming a lost art. Still, not just anyone can apply these graphics; their attention to detail, sense of proportion and design ensure that the job will be correct, all the pieces matched up, the bubbles smoothed out.


Say "Hello" to Matt and Freddie, not just guys sticking decals on a window, but craftsmen out of place, making a living, taking pride in a job well done.