A Sip of Burgundy
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This is my last entry here.
I will be writing only at my blog on Platform 27. It's been fun, but it's time to put this site to sleep. If you want to find me on platform 27, just email me from this site and I'll give you the address. I'll be leaving my past entries here for a while. Thanks for your visits. Bye!
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Oh my, what to do...
I see 20six is up and running again. Hmm, it's a little complicated for computer challenged people like me and it looks like some of you are bailing, so that leaves me wondering what to do. I will probably blog on platform 27 until I have time to play with this site more. I hope the dust settles quickly for all of us. I've been in my garden with no time to come in and blog, so I wasn't paying attention to what was happening. I'll be back pretty soon. Happy blogging wherever you are!
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Long answer to a short question...
Having recently returned from my annual trip to California, I'm looking around to see what it is that draws me back to this beautiful jewel called Burgundy. I'm filled with gratitude once again for being led here in the first place. I was thinking about this as I was driving from St. Florentin to Percey through yet another breathtaking scene on a short trip filled with several others just as beautifully breathtaking. Springtime in Burgundy is never taken for granted by those of us who love living here. Friends of mine who have lived here all of their lives will still point out a pretty field of red poppies or yellow colza or purple lavender and exclaim over the magnificent landscape on display as we travel from village to village.
Today's most memorable scene was one that included a lush field of green slashed by a shimmering, sleek stream of water reflecting the freshly attired trees along its banks as it slowly made it's way through the Burgundy Canal. I asked myself why this Burgundy landscape stands taller than all the other beautiful landscapes I've seen or lived among in the past 63 years. The Pacific coast with the Point Reyes peninsula jutting out into the ocean with its lighthouse beacon guiding the ships at sea and its, low foghorn calling out to them as they pass by is one of those scenes etched into my list of memorable landscapes . Living and hiking in those soft, green hills dotted with black and white cows who came to the fence to listen as I sang tunes from the musical, Oklahoma, is a part of that memory .
I'm driving from Occidental to the Sonoma Coast on a winding, roller coaster road through the woods and then suddenly I'm bursting into the light and seeing before me velvet hills covered with young lambs grazing near their mothers, and, beyond, a vast, blue sea with craggy rocks jutting out of the waves as if to catch their breath before sliding back into the Pacific - another scene for my memory banks.
I'm making my way up a rock infested dirt road in my red pick up truck - a road that has flattened two of my tires on previous trips to the organic pig farm owned by a Scottish friend near Hopland in Mendocino County, CA.. I hold my breath as I make a sharp turn up onto the top of the hill because I know that what lies ahead is a magnificence beyond description. Golden, rolling hills, soft and sensual, dotted with green, gnarly oak trees, hills covered with curvaceous rows of grape vines, hills topped off with deep green forests, valleys winding through the hills along dry or narrow river beds, miles and miles of splendor reaching out to the coastal mountains and the sea. This is another entry on my list.
A Pennsylvania winter morning, temperatures just below freezing, my little sister and I are walking through the woods behind our house. The air is still; there is an unusual silence surrrounding us. Something wondrous had happened in the night. The clouds wept fluffy, flakes of pale blue snow. The branches of the trees and bushes were hidden under thick layers of this miraculous blue wonder. We trudged through the fresh, foot deep snow on the ground as we gazed quietly at the precious gift bestowed on us. Our minds were racing with questions. What is it made of? How could this be? Why did it happen? Is it a miracle of God? Will we ever know the answer? We never got the answers to those questions. I have only the memory to put on my list.
I will probably never know all the answers to why Burgundy landscapes rank higher than all the others either, but I think it may have something to do with my finally finding the home I've been seeking all my life. The landscapes are indeed stunningly beautiful with the luscious hills and valleys stretching between the round turrets, stone houses and walls, and tall church spires of the villages nestled in their curves or shoulders. The patchwork colors of the spring fields, the golden hills dotted with large, round wheels of spun hay in the summer; the colors of the forests, and the flowers bursting from their baskets on window sills and bridges in the fall and the delicate snows of the winter are all part of the Burgundy landscape that enraptures and captivates me. Perhaps the absence of traffic throughout the countryside as I drive up hill and down dale puts a nice wash on the picture. Yet, I suspect that the calmness I feel that stems from my having arrived at my lifelong destination allows me to take in the world around me with a deeper awareness. Perhaps the colors are more intense, the ripples on the earth seem more pronounced, the textures more sensual and the landscape more seductive as I curl up into my psychic comfort zone - this land called Burgundy.
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Where has he been?
"Our nation is on the threshold of new energy technology that I think will startle the American people," President Bush said today.
Is that so? Well, I think that George W. Bush is actually the only one who was startled. He has ignored alternative energy technology throughout his presidency for obvious reasons, so the surprise he talks about is HIS not ours. Most Americans have been experiencing for years the hardship of supporting the US oil companies and the House of Saudis and have looked around for answers. We've all been aware of the research and new technologies that have been ignored and under funded by the administration.
Many Americans have made huge sacrifices to support those alternative energy companies by purchasing high-priced hybrid cars and abandoning the grid by turning to solar and wind energy for their heat and electricity. Others have given up their cars altogether and taken their bikes to the streets. Some have refused to be the next family on the block to buy an SUV. Many have traded in their mini-vans for an energy efficient car. Thousands have attended Alternative Energy Expos to find out what else they can do to break away from oil dependency.
Had Mr Bush had the courage to visit that progressive hornet's nest, Berkeley, California, he would have smelled french fries as a city bus passed by his entourage. A bus powered by vegetable oil has a fragrance that makes you crave lunch at odd times of the day.
Or he could have visited San Diego's Regional Transportation Center (RTC) where according to author, Jeanne Miller, in Odyssey Magazine, "you can fill up your car's fuel tank with biodiesel made from used french fry grease, with ethanol made from cheese factory waste, or with any of several other non-gasoline fuels. Or you can plug your electric car in and recharge its battery. The RTC is the first station anywhere to offer a full menu of alternative fuels."
Will this brand new discovery change Bush's budget priorities? No, I don't think so. He claims that this administration is now funneling money into hybrid battery research. However, Rep. Ed Markey, D-Mass., questioned Bush's energy policies, saying the administration also supports subsidies for luxury SUVs. "This single tax subsidy dwarfs anything being done for hybrid batteries," Markey said.
I wish we could find a way to harness all the wind our president has been blowing.
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Comments on the news and things...
Cheney shoots hunting companion...
Has anyone suggested that perhaps Cheney's eyesight should be checked before he goes on anymore hunting trips? It seems to me that his narrow focus on the world might affect the way he sees birds in the fields. Shotguns with bullets that produce a wide sweep of birdshot may not be the safest weapon in our vice president's hands.
Bird flu threatens poultry farming in France...
Can anybody explain to me why poultry growers can't just cover their chicken yards with netting strung from tall post to tall post, so that wild birds can't get in and yet the chickens can still run free outside?
Olympic Ice Skating...
Have you noticed how the ice skating competitions have grown boring? There are so many bells and whistles thrown into the programs that interpretation of the selected music has been thrown out. In fact, French TV has turned the music down low and the commentators talk over it all way through the program! I remember when interpretation gave the program some heart, but now the heart seems to be missing. So sad...
Speaking of French commentators talking over the music, I've noticed that sports commentators in France talk an unbelievable amount during the event. I don't understand everything they say, but what I do hear doesn't seem all that important that they must say it while we're trying to focus on seeing the game, or whatever. I just wonder how they make it to the end. I'd be exhausted!
Snowboarding looks like total fun! Watching those Olympic snowboarders jumping, floating and rolling around in the air makes me wish I were 50 years younger. I'd be out on those half pipes everyday with as big a smile on my face as they all have. What a great sport!
That's all folks...
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Something I Remembered Today
It's a poem I love by Billy Collins.
Forgetfulness
The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,
as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.
Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.
Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.
No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
Billy Collins
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Pandering to the lowest, etc.
Have you noticed how lame most American news headlines are on internet sources like Yahoo or Google? I expect that on the Drudge Report, but who is choosing the stories to headline on Yahoo? Why does "Woman Dances Naked on a Car at the Auto Show" get headline space for two days on many news sites? We have a newly elected woman heading the government in Chile. We had a newly elected woman prime minister of Germany meeting with Bozo in Washington. We have a kidnapped woman reporter whose time has run out today. Why do these women have to share precious headline space with a woman who decided to get naked and dance at a car show? Yes, we all know the answer and it's humiliating.
Dumbing down has serious consequences. Another headline tells us that half of the college students tested in a recent study can't work out credit card offers, figure out their check books, or compare the price per ounce of food. Figuring out restaurant tipping is beyond them and, of course, analyzing news stories is out. Basic literacy skills are missing in their repertoire; however, they are able to find their way when using a map and they can order office supplies. The good/bad news is that they are smarter than many of their parents! They do well with searching and using information so, at least, when they can’t estimate whether their car has enough gas to get to the gas station, they can look it up on their trusty laptops. Yikes! I hope they know to pull over first, and maybe even turn the engine off.
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