Field trips

Not from the Buffalo Zoo

My first field trip was also my first visit to the Buffalo Zoo.  I was six and in first grade.  I remember the anticipation, the bus ride, and that it was a cold and gloomy day.  Nothing about the zoo. 

My last school field trip took the entire day.  We rode the train to Corning, NY to see the process of glassmaking and the beauty of the finished product.  In between those first and last outings were trips to the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, the science museum, and the Wonder Bread plant. We must have gone to Niagara Falls and the power project with all its exhibits about electricity, but I have no memory of that field trip.  

Field trips are adventures.  They are learning and growth opportunities.  They expose students to something new or may help them see something in a new way.

Yes, that is a coyote!

Adults need field trips too. While some may be educational, what they also are is a break from the routine, a chance to refresh, or to be a kid again.  

Last Tuesday I made one of my frequent visits to the Morton Arboretum (www.mortonarb.org). Driving through or walking a path there calms me.  Sometimes I have to make a decision on whether the visit is for exercise, for gathering items for art projects, or to practice with a camera.  As you can see, this visit was the latter.

Being in nature centers me.  Even a walk through my neighborhood can seem like a field trip on those days when I’ve been stuck in my head or struggling with an issue.  One friend might describe her tennis lessons as a weekly field trip and another, his yoga classes as a field trip of relaxation or to inner peace.  An engaging book can take us on an adventure, and while we need that kind of mind stretching, it is not the same as experiencing a real journey.

What field trips do you regularly take?  Why?  What’s a favorite? What ones do you have planned for the year?  If ever you would like one to the arboretum, just let me know.  I'd love to share my favorite with you and would love to share your favorites with others!

Here’s wishing you safe travels - whether for a few hours or several days - for all the field trips you take!

Marilyn

Hide n' Seek

What childhood game does your life feel like right now?  Are you the cheese standing alone or have you been “It” racing around trying to tag someone else? 

Maybe in some area of your life you have a bit of ‘Simon says’ going on, being directed to do this or that by outside forces.  Have you been blindfolded, spun around and now your arms are outstretched searching for that illusive donkey? 

Perhaps you relate more to being the victim in the library with Colonel Mustard or are lucky enough to have everything you need to pay the for the hotels on Park Place.

Me?  It’s Mother-may-I?  There’s a goal and I’m trying to get to it.  I’m asking “May I do this?” but the answers have been “No, but you can do this instead” or “Wait ‘til the next turn.”

I enjoyed the question for this musing.  It popped into my mind as I walked the neighborhood.  I had to go home get my camera and start over.  Reminded me of Sorry.

The answer for me took some thought.  What about you?

Silver linings

No matter how much of an optimist you are, some clouds simply do not have silver linings.  Other clouds have to blow over before you discover what was there to see or learn or appreciate.  Like how the loss of a job led to a book and a blog.

We’ve had some dramatic storms lately.  Even as I write there is thunder in the distance.  A reporter on the radio just used the phrase, “people who live in weather-prone areas.”  I chuckled at that description.  Don’t we all know people who have dark clouds overhead continually, making their own weather-prone area?!  I’ve known dogs that are inconsolable as they cower under the bed during downpours.  One friend helped her five-year old son confront his fear of storms by reframing lightning into ‘nature’s fireworks’ and responding to each loud clap of thunder with their own round of applause and a shout of ‘Go, God!’

We try to be prepared, but we have learned that a storm is something we cannot control, must experience and let run its course.  I’ve endured some traumatic storms and you probably have too.  Losses that brought tears clouding my worldview.  Days that remained overcast inside when the outside was bright and clear. 

I have one friend who is enthralled with weather.  Weather-related websites are prominent in her favorites list, but she was recently reminded that storms are not always predictable.  An unexpected and troublesome tempest recently disrupted her life.  It is forcing uncomfortable discussions and the confrontation of old hurts and grief.  Some of us have known similar clouds and can predict this: when the fog scatters, life can actually be better.  Different, but better.

For me right now, there is a cloud on the horizon.  It may be a fluffy cumulous cloud that will float on by.  Or, it may morph into something to which I will need to quickly react.  If so, I’ve got my umbrella and boots ready and binoculars out to see if there is a silver lining.  I’m going to hope there is.

Where are the clouds or the storms in your life?

Solid Foundation

Part 1
Not one of the people convicted in Salem, MA of being a witch in the 1600’s was burned at the stake.  Like 14 of the others, five women were hanged on Tuesday, July 19, 1692.  One of them was Susanna North Martin, my great (x7) grandmother.

Susanna, a mother of 8, is described as a short, active woman, well developed in her figure, and of remarkable personal neatness.  Puritan society expected women to be meek and obedient but Susanna was a woman of bold character, strong minded, smart but with a sharp tongue. 

One charge against her at trial was that she walked from Amesbury to Newbury in rainy weather without her clothes getting wet.  The court convicted her of flying.  An accuser and the person who recorded the trial was the Puritan minister Cotton Mather.  She was allowed no legal counsel, so offered a spirited self-defense, but her demeanor showed contempt for the whole process, which further convinced the court of her guilt.

More than two centuries later a marker was placed on the site of her home: "Here stood the house of Susanna Martin. An honest, hardworking Christian woman accused of being a witch and executed at Salem, July 19, 1692. She will be missed! A Martyr of Superstition.  1894"   On October 31, 2001, Jane Swift, acting governor of Massachusetts, signed a law that formally pardoned Susanna Martin.

Hundreds of people now claim – proudly – to be a descendant of this strong woman who stood firm in her convictions.

Part 2
In 1904 it was common for women to die in childbirth.  That’s what happened to Nancy Moore when my father was born.  Her other 3 children, now motherless, were removed from their loving home and placed in an orphanage.  When their widowed father, George, married again 6 months later, they went to a new home.  But all was not easy for the children in a reunited household.  Alice, the eldest at 10, was shipped off to a distant spinster aunt in England.  The story in the family was that Alice had permanent scars on her back from beatings inflicted by the step-mother.  Aunt Alice remained in England, married Reginald and lived a quiet life.  George, Jr. and Bob remained with their father.

Nancy Moore’s death resulted in quite a different path for baby Ralph.  He was adopted by Ferdinand and Ella Huebel who raised him with nurturing love and who kept him innocent of his beginnings.  When more than 40 years later my father by chance encountered his brother Bob and then met George and Alice, few stories of their early lives were exchanged.  They simply gratefully took the opportunity for connection and a future together.  Not a real long future in one case.  Uncle George died on skid row when I was in my teens.

Susanna and Nancy.  Two women whose names I did not even know a few years ago but upon whose shoulders I stand.  In very different ways they gave me a solid foundation and connect me through the centuries to all the matriarchs in my bloodline whose stories may not be as dramatic but are just as important.

As the calendar leads us to Mother’s Day, I wanted to honor these two ancestors by sharing some of their story with you.  Is there an ancestor who today has a special meaning for you and who you would like to honor?