Week 5 (June 11 - 18) Moving Right Along

The rendering of a daily account of activities following retirement has been an interesting exercise.  It has revealed patterns which have been subject to review.  Already last week I was aiming to simply take a rest day from exercise because of a growing concern of fatigue for no really good reason.  Also, friend John kindly loaned a set of Band of Brothers (HBO series from 2001 on Blu-Ray) which bedazzled both Jen and me, and took us out of commission for two days.  After "Saving Private Ryan" I didn't think a war narrative could get much more realistic, but this series surely did.  I couldn't get the Peloponnesian War out of my mind, comparing the fate of both sets of military men.  We've changed so little as a species.

I've gone my exercise routine one better -- I've started alternating days to do my situps/crunches and heavy weight work with the expanded time on the elliptical, but doing stretches and warm ups for both.  That certainly makes me feel better, and not nearly so tired.  I continue to lurk around 169, so changes haven't done me in quite yet!

Thursday and Friday last week (June 13 and 14) I spent in Lansing, attending a retreat for the Michigan Library Association Board of Directors, and the final board meeting, on Friday.  It was a bittersweet meeting, my three years' commitment (actually a little more like 3 1/2 since I filled an unexpired term of another director before I was elected), at an end.  The retreat gave us a chance to visit with the new MLA board members, and our new president-elect, Asante Cain.  At the conclusion of the retreat, a photo was snapped showing the four MLA presidents who were present:

Richard Cochran_Lance Werner _Kathy Wolford_Asante Cain -- June 12, 2013

I am the departing past-president, Lance assumes that role at the next board meeting; Kathy will lead the organization in 2013-2014, and newly elected Asante Cain ("president elect") will be head honcho in 2014-2015.

It was also good getting to talk with other new board meetings, including Kay Schwartz, director of the Flint district library, whom I was seated with for dinner on Thursday night.  She mentioned she and her family are "Trekkies" and her daughter was married in a true Star Trek wedding this year, which was held at the Flint Planetarium:

 

Kay said she and her daughter sewed all the costumes -- very complicated patterns -- which took them 6 months to finish.  I guess Scotty couldn't beam up a few for the wedding party!

Friday, following the board meeting I drove over to the Library of Michigan/Michigan State Archives complex in Lansing and conducted some research which was quite productive.  Afterwards, I had made arrangements with my old Wayne State University classmate, Mary Zimmeth, with whom I studied in 1978/79, and we went out to dinner.  Mary has been employed as an archivist with the Michigan State Archives for around 20 years.  She was, and remains a good colleague.

***

This week I got back to the work of the Big Rapids Historic District Study Group which I've previously mentioned in this blog.  Spent all day Monday and Tuesday (June 17 and 18), tracing the changes in ownership of houses within the city boundaries I've been assigned.  Made great progress!

***

Returning home this afternoon (June 18), I found it a wonderful Michigan (almost summer) day.

Backyard Greenery

Roses Rising

 
***

I received several photos taken during the Paula McLain visit to CMU on June 8, including several taken while I spoke with her and she signed my copy of The Paris Wife: 

***

Update on plantings.  Unfortunately some insects or other varmints chewed my freshly planted holly hocks down to the ground.  Plan b would be a good thing.  However, the seedlings for the 2nd floor deck are thriving:

 

The world still turns!

Until next week, with an update on Week 6...

 

I

Taking Stock - June 10

Sunday's lower energy level was not on this morning's horizon; exercises went well.  However, instead of projects, I took time to assess my four weeks of retirement; took time to email some of my CMU colleagues, and then to think about a direction for the next month or six weeks.

I walked around the house, inside and out, upstairs and down, and detailed 16 projects (apart from the regular yard work and ordinary clutter control and housekeeping).  I spent time writing a few words describing what I wanted to do, and when I wanted it done.  This sounds far too like the work of an administrator, but so be it!  I also derived a list of the projects to hang on our refrigerator, as a reminder.

Later in the afternoon I started one of the projects -- tidying up my basement tools and hardware.  It'll take some time, but just an hour and half began to yield visible results.

Friend John stopped by after work (his work)  to loan a Blu-Ray version of the HBO series Band of Brothers which I'd not seen before, and some workout music to keep me on track.  Looking forward to watching them. 

The 80% chance of rain that was forecast for Big Rapids never materialized, so after dinner I watered portions of the lawn that I reseeded this spring, hoping we do not have a typical season that leaves everything drying out and brown.

We shall see.

Quiet Day -- June 9

Rising on Sunday morning I was eager to delve into Jon Meacham's biography of Thomas Jefferson while sipping my coffee.  So eager, in fact, as to prolong the pleasure before moving off to exercise.  Intellectually I comprehend the mind-body dualism but when it comes to apportioning time for one over the other, I suppose it depends on nature of the experiences/values to be drawn therefrom.  Therefore, an interesting book is likely to have an attractive force above and beyond the voice within me saying: "Cochran, get your butt in gear and take care of those exercises!"  This day, I was just plain rebellious and cut short the time on the elliptical to a quarter of what I've been mostly doing for the past three weeks -- 200 calories instead of 800.

I tried rationalizing my general lethargy on whatever would stick, but ultimately nothing was very convincing -- so after breakfast I cut the front and side lawns and weeded flower beds.

It was another beautiful Michigan day and I took the occasion to enjoy some of our blooming plants in the backyard --

All of which made me glad we have perennials that greet us every year.

Later on in the afternoon I broke down, cleaned and lubed my small chainsaw and tackled a remaining few branches of a formerly humongous shrub that had gotten entirely out of control.  Eight dwarf English boxwood  plants now occupy the footprint of the departed shrub and so long as the deer or the rabbits do not eat them, we should have an acceptable replacement in a few years.

In exchange for time on the elliptical in the morning, after my chores and a good shower, I walked downtown to City Hall and dropped off utility bills.  It was a very quiet afternoon in Big Rapids, but I encountered a few people on foot, and chatted with them. That's the nice thing about a small town and a slower pace of life!

***

Returning home I pruned back and repotted the 12-year old begonia plant which my former Ferris State colleague, Tom Oldfield (retired dean of the College of Technology) gave me on my 50th birthday.

My former colleague, Tom Oldfield

Originally it was exclusively an indoor plant, but as I kept putting it in larger pots, it became something of a monster, now in a large tub.  I've taken to leaving it outside during the warm weather months and then bring it inside over the winter (where it continues to bloom).  Two years ago I used a cutting to bring a second large planter along with a thriving version of the original.  These two wintered indoors successfully this year, but their leaves got a bit wilted in the lower light.  I separated the large tub plant today and now have three plants to work with.  Twelve years is a long time to keep a gift plant alive, but so long as they get some TLC, they should do just fine.

***

I enjoyed a late afternoon and evening running through new material received for my genealogical collections. Online I perused several digital collections and located an advertisement placed by my great grandfather 99 years ago in Detroit Free Press:

Detroit Free Press, February 20, 1914, p. 6

Yes, the very fellow I am named for, the culprit who put chlorophyll in our veins!  Here he is, with my great grandmother, Sophia, around the late 1920's.

 

***

Several years ago I prepared a photo montage showing my great grandparents (center) surrounded by their 11 children, all of whom were born in Detroit.  My grandmother, Sophia Mach Cochran is the woman on the left in the second row:

My great grandfather Richard Rudolph Mach died in 1937.  When his widow died in 1965 she was survived by 125 descendants; today the number of their descendants is well over twice that.  We have a very large extended family in Michigan.

The Paula McLain Lecture -- New Togs -- New Projects -- June 8

Since we needed to be up and out of the house enroute to Mount Pleasant no later than 10 a.m., I did not dawdle over the usual reading and coffee before getting into the full exercise routine.  Completed my 82,500th situp for the year and weighed in at 168.0.  Last time I went out to a more than casual event (Rick Christner's retirement reception) I had to scour my closet for a suit that still fit.  I found one in good condition that is probably 25 years old (hidden deep in our walk-in cedar closet).  I attired myself in the same garb, but the trousers still needed a tight belt!

Driving my car over the familiar "back way" route I devised from Big Rapids to Mount Pleasant it was interesting to note landmarks afresh -- since it's been almost four weeks since leaving CMU.  One thing that was particularly attractive -- all the greenery after a winter/spring while not severe, seemed to last a long time this year.

***

 We arrived in plenty of time to greet and chat with former CMU Libraries colleagues and then moved into the Park Library auditorium to hear Paula McLain discuss writing, and more specifically, The Paris Wife.

  

Paula turned out to be a wonderful speaker--funny, interesting, and fascinating.

 Paula studied and graduated from Central Michigan University before moving on to the University of Michigan to earn a M.F.A. degree.  Her ambition was to be a poet and she was rather glib about the economic prospects of writing and publishing poetry (and she has published a couple of collections of poetry).  She detailed the evolution of her writing -- through a novel and a autobiographical account of her life as a foster child in California.  She claimed her inspiration to write The Paris Wife was her chance reading of Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast, his last work, published posthumously three years after his 1961 suicide.  While Paula adjudged that Hemingway dealt tenderly with his first marriage, Hadley was not described in detail and it occurred to Paula to write an account of those Paris years from Hadley's point of view.

Paula credited three previous biographies of Hadley and Hemingway's four wives as essential background material for her fictionalized account she put together.  In the Q&A session after her lecture Paula explained that apart from a direct quote from Hemingway at the beginning of her work, she did not consult with the Hemingway family, nor did she seek their permission for what she wrote.  Paula clarified that in a work of fiction, such conventions are not required.  Regardless, she described herself as a human Hoover vacuum cleaner, reading through the extensive correspondence between Ernest and Hadley (love letters) that survive, as well as many accounts of the Paris expatriates.  As a result, although she did not quote directly from these sources, she suggested that as much as 80-90% of what she wrote in The Paris Wife actually did happen.

I was intrigued by Paula's rich description of the places Ernest and Hadley lived in the south of France, Switzerland, Spain, as well as Paris.  During the Q&A session I asked whether she had personally visited the places she described, to get the essence of the places.  As it turned out she did most of the writing as a Starbucks in Cleveland Heights and did not retrace the Hemingways' steps until after The Paris Wife was a success (it has now sold over a million copies), and she had money to do it!  I pursued my question a little further at the book signing after lunch and Paula stated that in addition to voluminous reading, she used Google Earth as a means to trace Hadley and Ernest's travels, to better visualize the places they stayed.

All in all it was a terrific afternoon.  Lunch was plentiful and tasty, but I left half the portion (chicken cordon bleu) as well as the dessert on the table.

Paula's son, Connor, was seated at our table and I snapped a picture of the two of them when Paula was making her way around the room.

Connor was a freshman at Central Michigan University this past year, studying ceramic art.

***

After lunch, which was the largest Friends of the CMU Libraries event ever held (about 105 people were present), Paula signed copies of her book, including ours.

***

But the day was not over, for a trip to the mighty metropolis of Mount Pleasant meant places to purchase goods unobtainable in Big Rapids, namely clothing.  With my diminishing frame, my wardrobe is looking like "clown clothes."  So, off we went, bargain hunting and ended up with a trove of togs that are a marked departure from my "suits every day" routine.

Dockers 'n jeans, and casual shirts -- and nary a silk tie to be seen!  Summer in Big Rapids, I'm ready!

***

We also stopped by a hardware store and picked up supplies to launch my next house projects -- mortar to do tuck pointing around our foundation and concrete to anchor posts around a sagging portion of our wooden back fence (our student neighbors have backed into it a few too many times).  

***

One place we did not stop on the way home, though we drove past, was the Mecosta Book Gallery, the proprietors of which (John and Alex Rau) are fabulous folk.  I have Jennifer's annual gift certificate from the MBG burning a hole in my pocket, but it was already after 4 p.m. and we were tired from a long day out and about.  A visit with John and/or Alex will have to wait for another day.

***

 

Gliding -- But Not Entirely -- June 7

My late night doings Thursday evening took their toll and for the first time in memory I awoke at 6:30 a.m. to the sun flowing into the bedroom window.  The felines had long before abandoned the end of the bed, fully engaged in their prowl mode somewhere in the house.  The 5 hours of sleep was still hanging on me when I padded downstairs to find a cup of coffee. 

Although I started Ursula Le Guin's book of short stories, there are no lack of possibilities in my accumulation of books throughout the house.  Among last year's Christmas presents from Jennifer was Jon Meacham's biography of Thomas Jefferson which I had skimmed, but really hadn't sat down to enjoy (ah retirement with so many possibilities for spending one's time!).

 So I spent about an hour getting into Meacham's quite engaging sketch of the great man from Monticello.  About three years ago I got on a "founding fathers" reading kick and managed to get through biographies of Washington (4 volumes), John Adams, Alexander Hamilton and Benjamin Franklin, as well as histories of the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War.  Jefferson does not come off well in some of the biographies of the other "founders" or at least, in comparison with the chief object of the biography in question.  I think I have enough distance from those other biographies to give Jefferson a spin. Meacham's treatment got good reviews, so we'll see.

***

My late rising might have dissuaded me entirely from hitting the exercise room, but it was a gorgeous day looking out into the back yard, which I survey when I'm on my elliptical.

Flowering shrub in our backyard, seen through the kitchen window, June 7

 

So, although I didn't actually finish my workout until 10:30 a.m., I got the whole routine in, once more.

After breakfast and a shower I was in a "gliding" mood and enjoyed an hour in the sun, again with the Meacham book.

The afternoon mail brought a package postmarked from San Francisco from my late brother-in-law's partner, Bob, with a belated birthday/retirement gift of three eclectic books, now that I have time to read them.  I'm familiar with Gavin Menzies, but haven't read this book (no, it's not about aliens and UFOs).

Whole Grains was published in 1973 and has shades of "counter culture" all over it, (Last Whole Earth Catalog, etc.) some of the quotations are profane but there are definitely some pithy ones, even for writers of blogs: "The laying bare of oneself is obscene." (Ad Reinhardt) and "Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness." (Samuel Beckett).  Ouch!

***

Although "gliding" was what I thought I might be sliding into on this beautiful Michigan day, I received a call from my retirement fund representative, necessitating pulling out files and making decisions about how my retirement will be funded.  Conversations like this remind me a little like medieval brain surgery:

 And at their conclusion, I'm not sure I feel a whole lot better than the poor lout who got the business end of this wicked mechanism.  But in fact, all's well; it turned out to be a minor point of clarification.  Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville is real!

A New Twist on Exercise -- Ursula Le Guin -- Paintin' and Plantin' - June 6

I've been a little more careful about stretching and unwinding after my workouts lately, but this morning, looking out on a sunny back yard, I was a little more deliberate and thoughtful.  Then I remembered some of the Zen-like exercises, involving deep breathing and concentration.  Remarkably, as I experimented with them, they worked.  I found myself quite carried away by a thrill of feeling as I reached my arms from my sides, high in a slow wide arc, finally joining my fingers as my two arms crossing above my head.  My eyes were closed and I concentrated only on the very slow movement of my arms.  It seemed as though my fingers would never find themselves, but when they did, it was like alien digits touching the opposite hand. 

Fascinating feeling.

I've seen some of these moves done on tv and YouTube, and I know there's a profound philosophy underpinning them.  I shall have to look into this in greater depth in the weeks ahead.  I did get so far into the meditation as to consider active and passive forces bearing down, or bearing away from a central core of existence.  Pretty heady stuff for the early morning!

***

A morning decision I had to make is what book to read next.  I have several waiting, but chose Ursula Le Guin's Orsinian Tales.  Many years ago I read her Earthsea trilogy (never got into the later iterations of the cycle), and I recall enjoying them very much.  I was not disappointed with my choice.  These tales are unlike her science fiction and fantasy, but are richly woven tapestries from different times and places.  "The Barrow" was quite haunting and evoked my interest in genealogy that takes one back into the Middle Ages.

Reading, exercise and breakfast over, I was on the prowl to get things done.  Checked on the plants now safely corralled in their containers on our 2nd floor deck.  We shall see how the experiment works in the weeks ahead.  Unfortunately, the tree seeds I tried to start never emerged.  I shall have to collect new seed pods as they develop, and try again.

Seedlings Ahoy in Containers on 2nd Floor Deck

 I also picked up where I intended to on Wednesday and finished painting the front porch ceiling.  Weather was just right; hope this sticks for a while.

To round out the late afternoon I mowed the back yard and attended to some weeding and pruning. 

***

After dinner I spent time on email and correspondence.  Hit the pillow at 1:15 a.m. and enjoyed the sleep.

The Paris Wife Concluded -- Soup's On! -- Plantings - June 5

Tuesday's late evening's doings took their toll on Wednesday morning -- definitely an Espresso morning!  Read a few pages of The Paris Wife, but had to rush to exercise.  Skipped breakfast, since I've basically evolved into a two-meal a day routine.

Final preparations to host a basic soup and sandwich lunch for friend John, including getting the felines upstairs.  Mr. Frodo isn't so bad, but Samwise is a shameless moocher, and very persistent!  Arriving a little early he was impressed into service to get food to table, whereupon we launched into a wide-ranging conversation, including wilderness cabins (his aspiration; my faded fantasy from the Last Whole Earth Catalog era of my life), music, movies, family life, and shared recollections of work at Ferris).  In years past the rush of work and responsibilities provided the vocabulary John and I spoke, but it's good to put the high pressure and tension away and just have a friendly conversation.

After lunch I had in mind to complete the porch roof painting that I had begun on Tuesday but the sky looked iffy (it ultimately did rain briefly) and I postponed.  I did, however, change into my painting gear -- clothes that have seen me through several rounds of painting our house (I've tried to do something every year we've been here).  So, while at work I was kidded about wearing a suit, I'm really proud of my old paint jeans!

Ultimately I decided to wait a day to complete the painting -- too much humidity wouldn't help the paint dry properly anyway.  So I decided to complete The Paris Wife, an obligation that I had to complete before Saturday anyway, since we're going to see Paula McLain, speaking at CMU. 

I found the final phase of Hadley and Ernest Hemingway's marriage very sad.  To the degree that McLain's work is fiction, in her rendering Ernest proposed a ménage à trois with Pauline Pfeiffer, suggesting the three move to Piggott, Arkansas, where Pauline's parents resided.  I had to remind myself that, at 62, I have an entirely different world view from a man of 28, in terms of what works and what doesn't.  Suggesting that  your wife accept those terms seems mind-boggling to me.  The prolonged exposure of Hadley to this toxic situation (at least in McLain's telling of it) leads one to sympathize with her.

Although the subject matter of these last few pages of the book were disagreeable, Samwise curled up on my lap and purred through most of my time on the couch.  With the clouds darkening the daylight coming through the windows it was nonetheless a mellow reprieve from an otherwise active day.

***

Toward the end of the afternoon the sun reappeared and I transplanted to seedlings I had growing in flats to my container garden on the second floor deck.  

*** 

In the evening I took care of some email correspondence and completed a Jury Survey form which arrived in the mail -- I've served on four juries -- in Indiana, Ohio, New Jersey and Michigan -- wonder what a jury summons might bring! 

New High, New Low, Spiffying up the Manor - June 4

Unaccountably late rising this morning -- quarter to six; the felines were not as rowdy as usual, so I had a certain guilty pleasure sleeping later.  However, I did get right into the exercise routine and thanks to friend John, had new music to see me through the elliptical run.  Except I got so involved listening to the lyrics that I went on to 1,000 (calories) on the machine, a first.

Among the music tracks from John were songs by Gordon Lightfoot, a singer I've admired at least since high school, when I started accumulating his records (vinyl, of course, since I'm a dinosaur).  One of my favorite Lightfoot songs (not among John's picks) is "Saturday Clothes"

I feel a little blue 'cause I can't sew
There's still a lot of things that I should know
Anyone can guess
I don't know how to press
My Saturday clothes
Everyone's goin' home

I feel a little sad to watch them leave
But I'll be cool because I don't believe
The happy times are gone
I can still put on
My Saturday clothes
Every warm body knows

I've got to tell you
That was a swell time
So now I'll take the butts away
And put the glasses on the tray
I'll see you all next Saturday

I feel a little off because they're gone
And if my gal were here I'd still be on
But in a week or two
There's lots of things to do
In my Saturday clothes
Everyone's gone home

I've got to tell you
That was a swell time
So now I'll take the butts away
And put the glasses on the tray
I'll see you all next Saturday




I saw that G.L. was on a concert tour this spring--wished I could have seen him.  His voice and guitar have been in my head for a long, long time.

After cursing friend John a couple or three times for absorbing my attention with that music, I trotted off to weigh in -- the added time helped bring a new low -- 167.5!  I felt a little unsteady for a moment, but it passed and I sprinted on to the work ahead of me for the day.

I was looking forward to hosting a lunch the next day, so went into overdrive. Not much glory in getting ready for company, but repotting and trimming plants, tossing the detritus (how many phonebooks can one accumulate, anyway?!), and generally buffing things up all took time -- right up until 11 p.m., so I slept soundly, ready for a new day.

Dining nook in our kitchen

Repotted and trimmed houseplants on our sideboard

One difficulty I've had with the houseplants are "felines on the prowl."  They nibble, so I've been careful not to put out any plants (like dumb cane) that could harm them.  The tall skinny plant on the sideboard is the cactus I had with me at CMU which quadrupled its height while I was there.  It has plenty of spines and it didn't take long for the boy cats to learn their lesson when they went sniffing around it.  Come to think of it, I haven't noticed them bothering the other plants recently -- maybe they're making the association of spines with the rest of the crop of plants we have around. 

I interrupted work in the early evening to market for the next day's luncheon.  It's funny, I filled up the car driving home from CMU on May 13, and the fuel indicator is still at "full."  I drive a Pontiac G6, a sporty vehicle I bought last year after a car-deer collision did in my old Chevy Lumina.

It's just as well I keep the car in the garage -- gas prices jumped to over $4 a gallon in town this week -- and a G6 ain't a hybrid (although it does get pretty good mileage on the highway).  Still, I like getting around town on foot.  It's only when you have bags to carry that walking becomes an inconvenience.  There must be a happy medium there somewhere!

Monday, Busyday -- June 3

Mr. Frodo and Samwise, our stalwart felines, were spooked by something in the middle of the night and woke me at around 3:30 a.m.  Zombie-like, I tried to return to sleep, but gave up and settled in with book and coffee around 4.  The Paris Wife is fast reaching the climax when Hadley discovers what Ernest has been up to.  Thirty-odd pages till the end -- I'll be primed for meeting Paula McLain this Saturday when she visits Central Michigan University.

***

Dawn arrived, sunny and energizing, so much so that I sailed through the exercise routine and by a little after eight was at breakfast and shortly thereafter, at chores de jour.

***

First order of business was to scrape, sand and prime the ceiling of our front porch which had weathered a bit badly over the winter in spots.  The husband of a former colleague at Central Michigan University had a very unfortunate accident involving an injury to his eye -- a very good reason to wear googles, which I do, although it is the epitome of Geekdom, from afar.  

I next tackled some carpet shampooing which improved a heavy (human and cat) traffic area.  Mr. Frodo and Samwise kept a respectful distance, but later were seen to be sniffing around the carpet as it dried.

Finally, I organized my classic films DVD collection -- or as far as I could.  A while ago I created a computer inventory program, but that necessitates having the DVDs near a keyboard or vice versa, to add new entries.  So I put the titles in a rough alphabetical order, awaiting keyboard time.

I did get to the computer mid-afternoon and saw the announcement of the selection of Kathy Irwin to fill the position I vacated at Central Michigan University (Associate Dean of Libraries).  Kathy and I worked together at the Michigan Library Association.  (She and I have been presidents of that organization).  Three years ago, at an MLA annual conference we had an extended chat -- an hour maybe -- between sessions; little did I know she'd be following me to CMU!

 

Around 4 p.m. I splurged and took a rest on the second floor deck and got some sun on my limbs -- I don't tan very easily, so staging time in the sun is a must if I want to avoid a painful sunburn.

Friend John stopped by a little after 5 to drop by some music which I was looking forward to hear.   My early rising caught up with me after dinner and I retired early, boy cats happily crowding my legs and I drifted off to sleep.  

A good day!

 

Sunday, Not a Day of Rest! -- June 2

Good day began with a furious read of The Paris Wife, now 2/3 read.  The telltale signs of a relationship in trouble are beginning to show through Hadley's dialogue -- Ernest is getting restless. Unfortunate thing is Ernest's new interest is in Paulette Pfeiffer, a friend of both Hemingways.  The smash up is certain to be spectacular.  Ernest and bullfiighting -- McLain vividly depicts the running of the bulls in Pamplona and of the bullfights that Ernest was so fond of.  Me?  I think about my unfortunate great great grandfather, Carl Mach (1823-1893) who was gored by his "pet" bull and instantly killed.  I found a newspaper account in a Monroe, Michigan newspaper, but recently found that the story had also been picked up by the Clare (Michigan) Sentinel, which garbled his name "Christian Mott" for "Carl Mach" but the date and place (Waltz, Michigan) fit.

 His official death certificate only mentions that his death was accidental (cause of death shown on facing page of this main entry:

 The death of an old man by a charging animal elicits no romance or pageantry, but our family's long memory of the passing of a kind old man takes the thrill out of bullfighting for many of us.

***

Workout went very well -- up tempo and snappy.  Weigh in again at 169.5.

***

Spent the entire day and well into the early evening outside working on the lawn and grounds -- a cool day, but the grass keeps growing.  No great romance in that, either!  Turned in early!

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit! -- June 1st

Things went a little slower this morning since I left it to my nature, and not an alarm clock to rouse me.  But I was up and about by 5:30 and sitting with coffee and book a quarter hour later.  The Paris Wife continues to be an interesting, absorbing read.  This day Hadley's pregnancy in Paris and ultimate return to North America, and birth in 1923, of the first of Ernest Hemingway's children, John Hadley Nicanor Hemingway, in Toronto, where Ernest landed a newspaper job.

 Paula McLain effectively foreshadows stormy weather between Ernest and Hadley (Ernest was later married to three other wives), and the initial reaction to his firstborn was not positive.  The Canadian sojourn was brief and the Hemingways returned to Paris and an increasingly wealthy and eccentric set of friends and associates.  McLain's canvas is filled with interesting details, irresistible to put down!  I wonder how many times son John had to explain that his third name was for a famous bullfighter!

***

I got through the exercise routine, but my "800" on the elliptical took the added push of the beat of the Beach Boys' hit song, Kokomo, on "endless repeat" -- slower than I usually go on the iron beast, but I was able to keep a steady pace, and if that's what it takes to get the job done, fine with me.  Besides, the carefree lyrics conjure up a more pleasant mental image than watching rivulets of sweat rolling down my torso!  Funny, when the Beach Boys first came out I didn't have much use for them. My best female friend (but not girlfriend), in high school, Pamela Miller, was ga ga about the Beach Boys and I guess it was her gentle influence that led me to be less harsh in my judgment about them.  

***

I was feeling a bit shaggy, so headed off to my barber (Larry) for a haircut after breakfast.  I donned my comfortable Wolverine boots for the walk over, not knowing whether the forecast rain would materialize (it didn't).  As I was walking I ran into one of the librarians I had hired at Ferris State.  She, her husband and I chatted for about fifteen minutes, but then I had to hurry on, as the barber shop closes early on Saturday.

Larry is a nice fellow, does a lot of fishing and hunting in season, works as a taxodermist when he's not attending to human skulls.  One article of abuse I'd never heap on Larry: "stuff it!"  Otherwise I might end up as an exemplar of his work that occasionally shows up in his shop. 

***

The title of this entry refers to a mantra learned at the feet of my 5th Grade teacher, Nancy (Welpton) Arter Faris.  I was a pupil of hers at Lincoln Elementary School (photos of that school appear in an earlier blog entry), in Prescott, Arizona.  Saying "rabbit" the first thing on the first day of the month was supposed to bring good luck.  She was a remarkably kind and intelligent woman. I'll never forget the citizens of Prescott she brought to class to talk to us -- Mary, the only blind person we ever knew, who made up our names in Braille; Gale Gardner, a true cowboy poet who graduated from Yale and was a frequent contributor of "cowboy verse" to Arizona Highways and other magazines; and Mary Martin, at least her on the soundtrack of the Broadway play, The Sound of Music.  Life with Nancy Arter was always an adventure.

 I had the privilege of introducing my older son, Ric, to her in the 1970's when we lived in South Bend, Indiana and she lived in Wilmette, Illinois, with her second husband.    Some years ago I  ran across this article by former Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater which celebrated Nancy's talent with children.

When Ric and I visited Nancy, we went on an expedition through bookstores in the north side of Chicago.  Knowing my interest in poetry, Nancy purchased and gave me an autographed copy of the complete poems of Carl Sandburg, a book I still treasure. Nancy eventually returned to Arizona and died there of cancer on November 5, 2000 -- a great loss to her hundreds of students who very likely still utter "rabbit" on the first of every month.

Goodbye to May - May 31

Another early morning, 4:30 a.m., far earlier than I wished to get up, but Samwise and Mr. Frodo were restless and impatient for their morning "treats" so I searched in the dark for my shorts and sweatpants, grabbed a pair of crew socks out of my bureau, dressed, and padded down the long hallway, down the back stairs ending in the dining room (the delighted felines a few steps ahead of me).  I made the boy cats wait a few moments longer as I switched on stove hood light and clicked on the coffee pot.  Then I reached for their cat treats, shaking the package to elicit an even throatier response from Samwise who is particularly fond of this once-a-day ritual.  Soon two furry heads were bobbing down toward the little saucer, crunching happily away in the dim light. 

Meanwhile I returned to the kitchen counter, opened the cabinet door where my vitamins are stashed, arranged and opened them on the counter top and spilled them into my cupped right hand.  Opening another cabinet door I surveyed the available equipment and fished out a blue fired earthenware mug, filling it with about an inch of water from the kitchen faucet.  Tossing the vitamins in my mouth with a quick motion I washed them down with a swallow of water.

By this time the coffeemaker had deposited about two cups of brewed coffee into the carafe, and since it was quarter to five, and I wanted to get my eyes focused in a hurry, I poured a cup of the "high test" liquid -- dark enough to be espresso -- and pivoted toward the refrigerator for the milk.  On occasion I microwave the swirled dark brew if it doesn't feel warm enough to keep for a few minutes.  But it seemed passably hot, so, mug in hand, I clicked off the stove hood light and headed through the dining room and into the living room in the dark.  Carefully setting the mug down on a sandstone coaster on a wing table near my favorite couch, I switched on a brass table lamp, settled upright on the couch, reached for The Paris Wife with my left hand and the blue mug with my right, and prepared to read. 

Thus began my last day of May, 2013; a routine that is very infrequently deviated from, day to day, week to week, month to month.

***

Well past the first third of the book, Paula McLain's narrative continues at a fast clip.  This morning's  dramatic turn of events occurred as Hadley packed up her husband's (Ernest Hemingway's) creative work at their Paris domicile, intending to take them to Lausanne, Switzerland, where Ernest is on a reportorial assignment.  Disaster strikes -- the valise in which Ernest's writings (every scrap and draft) are stored is stolen off the train.  Hadley knew what an unimaginable loss this was for a virtually unpublished writer, and it's no wonder that McLain has her sobbing uncontrolably when she meets Ernest at the Swiss station.

Engrossed in reading for a little over an hour, the grandfather clock struck six before I withdrew from my comfortable place on the couch, placing a bookmark in The Paris Wife to orient my next session.  Then I slipped onto the carpet, began my preliminary stretches for the exercise routine that took me to eight-thirty.  The additional situps and doubled activity on the elliptical are the chief culprits for keeping me more physically engaged than ever.

Finishing up I weighed in, again at 169.5, dutifully noted in the black notebook next to the scale, and headed for breakfast.

***

Rain was again forecast for the day, so as I dressed I also set aside a canvas bag with an umbrella and a windbreaker.  My noontime destination was lunch with friend John at restaurant Vivo, a little over a mile from home.  I left the house purposely early to go the long way around on the River Walk so I could spend a few minutes to watch the Muskegon River cascading southward out of town.

Got to the restaurant a few minutes early -- good thing, it was filling up quickly -- and surveyed the menu ahead of John.  Among many topics of conversation was my reading of The Paris Wife and my complaint about a couple apparent anachronisms of terminology that had distracted me.  I repeated my experience of being jarred from the 1920's dialogue into the modern era, much as Christopher Reeve had been thrust back to modern day in the movie Somewhere in Time when he found a modern day penny in his pocket.  To which friend John responded, it's one of his favorite movies, and that he and his brother had been extras when the film was shot in Mackinac Island.  John's scene was cut in the final version, but his brother is still to be seen.  How small the world is!

 The movie happens to be one of my favorites as well (after all, Christopher plays a guy named Richard), but only have it in a VHS version.

I've never been so carried away by a photograph as Christopher Reeve/Richard Collier was of Jane Seymour, but I've often thought I'd like to have met my great grandfather's only sister, Margaret Jane Cochran.  This photo of her was taken about the same time as the love object of the film:

Margaret Jane (Cochran) Robinson  (1875-1964)

After lunch I retraced my path, back along the River Walk, and there encountered a former colleague from Ferris State and enjoyed a brief conversation.  A few blocks from home I similarly encountered another, and caught up on the news of the day.

***

Poked around the basement and garage in the afternoon and attended to some small projects, ending an agreeable day and month. 

 

Dodging the Rain -- Joys of YouTube -- Back to the Paper Chase -- May 30

Another early morning (5:30) up and about.  Enjoyed returning to The Paris Wife.  For some odd reason I had the sensation of returning to the reading of fiction that I indulged in when I was in my early twenties.  And the "tales from the road" that McLain treats us to was vaguely like what I remember from some of Hermann Hesse -- but then he was also writing in the post-WWI era, too. Anyway I later on somewhat satisfied myself about spaghetti -- found a piece surveying the history of pasta at www.thenibble.com which suggested that "the Great Depression of the 1930s made inexpensive food like spaghetti a necessity."  So the jury is still out.  As far as "damned straight" and the other expressions that jarred me, well, I will have to do some library research on those!  Fortunately no others cropped up to distract me from the really excellent writing, so I made very good progress.  BTW, I found a nice photo of Ernest, Hadley, and their son on Wikipedia.  Much better than their passport photos!

***

And progress, once more at the exercise circle.  I looked through our big sliding glass doors into the backyard, filling with sunshine as the sun rose.  My energy level was back and I managed the 800 calorie burn easily.  Weighed in at 169.5 and felt like I had crossed some kind of Rubicon, heading for a destination where I want to be.

***

Completing breakfast I was out in the backyard, sans shirt in that wonderful warm sunlight, finishing off the backyard lawn.  It's remarkable how much rain we have received.  I puttered around with flower beds, attempting the near impossible feat of preventing an overgrowth of sweat peas which have been taking over our beds by the end of summer.  Lois Darrow, the owner (with her late husband, Dan) who resided here previously put in many beautiful perennials which we enjoy every Spring -- but I wish she hadn't planted sweat peas!  

I've been waiting to transplant some of our seedlings, and completed the fill up of all containers destined for our upstairs deck and got them moved indoors.  By 1 p.m. we were graced with another quite hearty downpour, and rain continued intermittently well into the evening.  It's bringing up our grass, alright, but mowing is required frequently just to keep up.

***

Apart from this blog, I have spent very little time on the Internet since I retired.  But this evening I did spend some time looking for music on YouTube.  I found several pieces I really like, but one fairly blew me away -- a Chet Atkins piece, Sunrise.  Very smooth and dreamy (not all of my sunrises are so glorious, because about that time I'm usually half-way through my situps!).  The piece brings to (my) mind a sense of freedom and carefree release from the burdens of everyday life (burdens that, trust me, a good many administrators feel keenly). 

For the past couple of years I've dipped into the free software offerings of giveawayoftheday.com, a site which offers legitimate, licensed software that can be registered and activated during one day only (once activated the software itself does not expire).  Occasionally they'll offer a selection a second time, but you have to watch for the "keepers!"  One program that I found on giveawayoftheday.com is called VideoGet -- it permits the capture of a YouTube video's audio track -- the sound files thus produced are not always the greatest quality fidelity, but passable.  Obviously one ought not make this a commercial venture (enough said!)

***

But, just so I couldn't be accused of playing around too much, I tackled filing away household bills and accounts.  A necessary evil.

Paris Enchants -- 75,000 and counting -- Former Colleagues -- May 29

So I'm getting into The Paris Wife.  The dialogue is sparkling and draws you in, with an interesting intimacy.  But then a shock to the system.  A word or phrase seeming somehow out of tune.  "Damned straight" and "fat chance" immediately come to mind.  Not unlike the shock of reading about a spaghetti dinner being prepared by Hadley Richardson (soon to be Mrs. Ernest Hemingway), in St. Louis.  The only way I can describe it is to refer to the movie, Somewhere in Time where Christopher Reeve manages to hypnotize himself into a turn-of-the-century setting, only to be brought back to the present when he finds a modern-day penny in his pocket, erasing the hypnotic effect of his time travel.  That's sort of the effect I perceive when the McLain's dialog seems to be polluted by more modern usage of words and terms.  I went so far as to consult my volume of Letters of T.S. Eliot (through 1922) just to see if the more colloquial use of language was evident.  It wasn't.  But then Thomas Stearns Eliot wasn't exactly all loose and unbuttoned about his writing, either!  I might be entirely wrong about the occasional term that seems anachronistic, it's just me.  Important thing is that I'm really glued to the book, which makes getting through a breeze!

My reading has taken Ernest and Hadley to Paris and their adventures in Europe.  I thought I'd see if I could locate their passport.  I have never seen a photo of Hadley (and the book doesn't contain one), and I knew that passports do contain photos. So here they are, from 1921:

The photos aren't that clear, unfortunately, but it is funny how you imagine characters to look, when told through the lens of a writer. 

 ***

Getting through the exercise routine wasn't such a breeze, however.  It was a trial and tribulation.  The weather was grey and I think I must get physically depressed when the weather turns.  I did everything I have been doing -- the 750 situps today totaled 75,000 for the year.  But for the three days of doubling up on the elliptical, I just quit at 600 (instead of 800 calories burned).  Not even the Rolling Stones energized me for that last lap!  

***

 In the afternoon Jen and I attended the retirement open house for former Ferris State colleague, Rick Christner, whom we get together with from time to time with friends in common.  The event was hosted in Wheeler Pavilion and was very attended.  I had the chance to catch up with quite a number of people I haven't seen for quite a while.  The honors for Rick are well-deserved and I'm glad we were able to share the afternoon with the Christner family.

***

Late afternoon, owing to the rain that's been pouring over us for the past several days, it was clear so I tackled the front and side lawns.  I've been nursing some bare spots with grass seed and most of it has come up nicely.  Ultimately means more grass to grow, but it's nice to have things looking sharp.

***

The Paris Wife, A New Low, and a Walk Around Town - May 28

I awoke early, 4:30 a.m., way before our coffeemaker prepares the morning brew, and surveyed the rooms that are getting more attention every day.  It felt good. Inasmuch as I'm returning to CMU next weekend for a Friends of the Library luncheon to honor and hear Paula McLain, author of The Paris Wife, I thought I had better get cracking on the book.  So, with a relief that I wouldn't be treated to warfare and military tactics, I delved into it.  The wife in question is Hadley Richardson, first wife of the famous writer Ernest Hemingway.  McLain's work is one of fiction, but I immediately was drawn into it.  Very engaging way she uses a first person narrative (Hadley's voice) to convey the development of the relationship, but also much about her (Hadley's) life apart from Ernest.  I got through 40 pages in a flash and am confident that I can get to the end of it before the luncheon.  No foot dragging over the finer points of historiography!  (I was curious, though, when she described a spaghetti dinner being prepared by Hadley and her sister in St. Louis, in 1920, whether that was an anachronism -- whether upper middle class families consumed spaghetti in 1920 -- something for me to check on).

One thing I did check on was the wedding announcement of Ernest and Hadley.  Sure enough, I found it in a digitized newspaper.

Oak Park Leaves, September 17, 1921, p. 40

In those Chronicle of Higher Education issues I went through I found notice of the publication of Ernest Hemingway's early correspondence -- a herculean effort, apparently, and one that was destined to create a more balanced view of Hemingway, according to the editors.  I plan to ask Ms. McLain if she was guided or influenced by them...

***

Reluctantly I put down The Paris Wife and padded off to begin the exercise routine.  Managed to stay on the elliptical for 800 calories, third day running, and at weigh in, was at 170 even.  Fabulous.

***

I had in mind a brisk walk downtown but a storm rolled in with drenching rain.  By noon, though, the system was on its way out, though no sun peeped through.  I had a list of things I wanted to get at our local State Street Hardware store.  I also was looking for a new lens cap for my 35 mm camera, and wanted to pick up a bottle of Triple Sec, an orange liqueur that I occasionally add to my green or white tea.  So rain over, I laced up an old pair of walking shoes, threw on my hoody, grabbed a canvas bag for my umbrella (in case the rain wasn't quite over) and headed out the door.  The walk was brisk and it felt good to stretch out beyond the stride that my elliptical permits.  In no time I was across town and at my destination (MapQuest rates the one-way distance as1.01 mile), got my things (sans lens cap, have to try again) and instead of retracing my steps, went slightly out of my way to take the RiverWalk, a nicely done path put in by our city along the Muskegon River.  I regretted not having brought my camera for along the deserted route I encounter four Canada geese with eight or nine goslings.  

Arriving home I set to work at doing the little repairs around the house for which the trip provided supplies.  

The sun never shone, but better weather is forecast later in the week. We shall see.

Thucydides is History! Memorial Day and Fun with Garden Tools -- May 27

As predicted, upon rising I completed the History of the Peloponnesian War, which ends (no spoiler alert necessary) with the sentence: "He [Tissaphernes, commander in chief of the Persian forces of Asia Minor] first went to Ephesus where he made a sacrifice to Artemis..."  So ends the 605 page narrative (in the Penguin Classics edition I read).  To the end, Thucydides was true to his craft, meticulously reciting battles, ships, maneuvers, etc.

My crabbiness toward Thucydides in the final chapters of the work was not out of disrespect for his achievement (he himself said: "My work is not a pieces of writing designed to meet the taste of an immediate public, but was done to last forever." ), but only my personal lack of excitement over such renditions of military facts and figures, when it comes right down to it.

The events that transpired after the Athenian defeat in Sicily were numerous and complex.  Thucydides really does a remarkable job of keeping it straight, and managing to keep unemotional as city after city abandoned Athens, and Athens itself descended into ever more dire circumstances.  True, the narrative stops at 411 B.C. and the War continued on another seven years, ending in March 404 B.C. (after finishing the Rex Warner translation this morning, I skimmed Donald Kagan's The Peloponnesian War to see what finally happened at the end, when Athens truly was defeated), but it still boggles the mind that for twenty years Thucydides kept up a faithful account.

The translation I read includes an explanatory essay by M. I. Findley, and I reread it just so I could get some closure.  Finley quotes Dionysius of Halicanessus who observed "In his Introduction he (Thucydides) makes it clear that he has chosen a bad subject, for he says that many cities of the Greeks were desolated because of the War...The natural consequence is that readers of the Introduction feel an aversion to the subject, for it is of the misfortunes of Greece they are about to hear."  Absolutely true!  My own personal reaction -- not only to the Introduction, but to the work itself, is that it tarnished the mental image I had of Greece in general and Athens in particular.  My mental impression of the Golden Age of Athens is (was!)  toga-sporting rational philosophers walking among an army of scientists, musicians, artists.  I'm exaggerating a little of course, but the boundless imperialism of Athens really surprised me, in this work. And the bad deeds of a lot of supposedly good persons!

Finley also validates the tension I felt in reading Thucydides, but really wanting something else.  "The historian's data are individual events and persons; the sum total of their interrelationships is the historical process...Unlike the poet, he must get the events and the relationships right; exactly as they were, and not, in Aristotle's phrase about tragedy...as they might or ought to have been."  My rant about flesh and blood human beings yesterday was precisely that difficulty -- history is not fiction, so get over yourself, Cochran!

Finally, one other observation Finley makes about Thucydides rings true:  "to ensure maximum accuracy, he kept his narrative sections rather impersonal, making infrequent (though very telling) comments and allowing the story to unfold itself."  Very much so.  The contrast between Thucydides and Donald Kagan, is really stark, and I must say that I tip toward Kagan's interpretive approach as opposed to Thucydides' reportorial.

So I chalk this reading up to an experience necessary, though not without turmoil.  On to the next adventure!

*** 

For all the mental play that commenced the day, my exercises awaited.  For the second day in a row I extended my time on the elliptical to over an hour, burning off 800 calories, though I must say I began to tire at the end of it.  I was glad to move on to other things.

***

As it was Memorial Day I briefly recalled the military men in my family -- me (Army), my father (Navy), brother (Navy), paternal uncles (father's brother and brother-in-law), Navy.  Fathers-in-law (Army, and Army Air Corps).  My paternal grandfather's brother, Elmer Edwin Cochran served in WWI (Army), and my paternal great great grandfather's brother, Mathew Cochrane served in the Civil War (Army).  Fortunately, all returned home, intact.

Elmer Edwin Cochran (front) with fellow soldiers, 1918

Military Collar Pin Worn by Elmer Edwin Cochran, WWI

Believed to be Mathew Cochrane, my great great grandfather's brother, Civil War veteran

***

For a holiday, I felt sorry for those who were expecting nice weather for a picnic or an outing.  It was cloudy most of the day and chilly.  On the evening news I saw that snow fell in Vermont.  Strange weather.  I thought there might be some ambient sunshine out there and tried to get a little sun, but all I got was chilled, so bundled up and got to some chores.

I solved the mystery of my chainsaw -- my Internet download of instructions reminded me to check the direction of the chain on the saw -- I reversed it and it worked perfectly.  Last year I took a handsaw to a huge overgrown shrub which was reduced to thick stumps which resisted the hand saw approach.  The chainsaw made quick work of it and not only did I clear the space, but planted new dwarf English boxwood plants in the shrub's place.  

All in all a good day!