110 Penned

A+ Day

2012-02-01T22:35:00.021-05:00

Yesterday I was driving into town to run some errands, admiring the absolutely gorgeous spring like weather ~ yes, on Janaury 31st!. Suddenly I noticed a little dark speck floating in the sky. It was an airplane and it was doing the most amazing maneuvers: barrel rolls, flips, and dives. I thought it surely must have been a remote control plane for it was doing one trick after another. I pulled over to the side of the road to watch the show. When I rolled down my window, I could hear the roar of the engine and realized this was a real plane ~ it was just up so high that it looked little. For twenty minutes I got a front row seat to the most amazing aerobatic performance. Honestly, it looked like a hawk elated with the weather and catching thermals. I could imagine that the pilot was grinning from ear to ear, giggling with every g-force pulled.

Alas, I did not have my camera. I had made the conscious decision NOT to bring it along with me. I had already taken some pictures earlier in the day, and I truly just wanted to enjoy the incredible day we had been given. Indeed, if I had brought it along, I probably would have missed this out of the blue event since I would have been delayed along the way getting other shots of the magnificent sunset. So the images are developed in my heart. I wish my husband could have been there to see it ~ though he probably would have begged to go to the airport and sign up for lessons. Again, some things are meant to be. Still, the phone shots I got were only of sky, no plane, and I laughed knowing that even though it was not my imagination, I had no proof. Photographic evidence goes a long way...

Taken with my phone camera, the plane just

disappeared behind the tree line to land. Sigh...

Today I was out and about taking some pictures for my Picture-A-Day project (I'll be working on an ABC project this month) and I was parked along an Amish farm taking pictures of laundry blowing in the wind. Suddenly I heard a familiar roar. I looked up, and, yes, it was the same plane! It was not doing any tricks, just flying through the valley, but it was my plane! I was quickly reminded of a time when this happened with an old ship sailing in the Chesapeake Bay (I blogged about it once upon a time: Imagination Begins with an Eye), and wondered if another great adventure was in the making. I quickly took a shot of the plane before it disappeared into the horizon and made a note to soon visit the small local airport where it resides. I then turned back to the business at hand, thinking about Amish pictures, but chuckling to myself that A is for airplane, too!

My plane! Not doing any tricks, but I was so glad to see it again!

Just look at this Valley! Who wouldn't want to play here?

The sunlight played hide'n'seek in the fields

and the clouds played hopscotch with the mountains...

The Lion Sleeps Tonight

2012-01-23T14:02:00.020-05:00

I have written recently about the horrible news that has echoed its ugly tale from a once Happy Valley to the rest of the world (see posts from November 2011). But today I am going to simply pay tribute to a man that I have long admired and respected, and how we all came together to say good-bye...

On our way to Beaver Stadium at Penn State to pay our last respects to Joe Paterno ~

the football coach for the Nittany Lions but so much more to the Penn State community.

Just as Mt. Nittany (pictured to the right), is a Penn State legend,

so is Joepa ~ now gone. but never to be forgotten...

Beaver Stadium with Mt. Nittany standing strong in the background.

He walked (okay, paced like a lion!) the sidelines of the football field

(both Beaver Field and then Beaver Stadium) for over 60 years...

A shrine was created at Joe Paterno's statue at Beaver Stadium on

Penn State's University Park campus. The news of his seriously declining health

flamed through social media Saturday night, even at one time erroneously announcing

his death. Then we all woke to the sad news of his passing this Sunday morning.

People honored him as a coach but more as a symbol of what is good within the

Penn State community. Many came to say that he would be

missed, but most just wanted to say, "Thank You."

(detailed photographs can be found in my Flickr photostream or on my Facebook page)

When someone gives so much to a community, there is only so much you can give back.

We all know that Joe would just want us to do good ~ with our families and our communities.

But there was one simple request we all made so that he could see just how much we cared:

Turn on the lights...

And they did. And, oh, how glorious it was! The low clouds reflected the lights of

Beaver Stadium and the aura could be seen from miles around, valley to valley.

There have been so many beautiful sunsets lately, but it was fitting that tonight

we just saw this glow...

Good night, Joepa! In this day and age when good, solid and decent leadership seems to be so elusive, we are proud that we got to know you and learn from you. Thank you. The lessons will not be lost. May you rest in peace...

A Swan's Song: Fates Crossing

2012-01-18T08:06:00.016-05:00

I have started another Picture a Day project with the Postcards to Blog Camp group. This is the same group I worked with in 2010, and gave a most feeble attempt of visits every once in awhile in 2011. I got a new camera for Christmas, an upgraded version of my FujiFilm not-DSLR-but-more-than-a-point-and-shoot camera, and knew from the start that a PAD would be the best way to learn to use it. So I jumped back into the pool. Plus I missed my Blog Camp friends. We have developed quite a community there ~ a group of very creative people who get the most out of family, home, work and the internet, sharing it all with words and photographs.

One of the things we enjoy a lot at Blog Camp is the moments of serendipity. These can come in many forms, though mostly by posting photographs that have similar scenes even though we span the globe living continents apart from one another. Sometimes a photograph sparks a great conversation or inspiration for further creativity. I was privileged to be part of this process this week.

Elizabeth, of Landanna blogging fame and a Flickr Friend, posted a photo recently that spoke volumes to me. I commented it was "a story in the making...at least a poem." Elizabeth replied that if I ever wrote that poem to let her know. I instantly felt up to the challenge.

Her photo was the inspiration. My words the song. A swan's song:

photo credit: "Feather of a Swan," by Elizabeth

A Swan's Song: Fates Crossing

the swan graced the lake for many years

his beauty surpassing those of his peers

he stood a head taller than all of the rest

his height augmented by his inflated chest

indeed, he could glide across the water better than most

and the sun seemed to follow just him, he would boast

his song trumpeted louder and longer than the rest

due to the length of his most elegant neck, he guessed

his pumped up ego did not make friends with the others

so he mostly stayed to himself when he had his druthers.

when frigid winds blew he did not miss the warmth of the herd

he would just puff himself bigger and murmur a cursed word

one day a hungry fox slowly found her way to the lake

she ventured out of her lair into the cold for kits' sake

the bitter wind and blinding snow made it hard to see

but she trudged along, her belly empty

the gelid land did not have much to provide

its usual bounty under ice did hide

prospects of something warm-blooded were bleak

since most were underground for a long winter's sleep

the afternoon sun began to dip in the sky

and the fox lowered her head with a heavy sigh

there would be no dinner nor breakfast it seemed

when all of the sudden a bright illusion gleamed

across the lake a glowing white vision appeared

a glimpse of hope ~ or perhaps a mirage she feared

but then a blast of honks launched into a song

and the fox knew her heart and tummy could not be wrong

far in the distance a bevy of swans was assembled

and the prospect of the hunt made the vixen tremble

but there were too many of them to take at one time

until she saw a particular one was ready and prime

he floated by himself, his neck fully extended

gazing down at his reflection in the water, time suspended

he didn't seem to notice anything else but his own being

and the fox slithered towards him, soon off and fleeing

it was over rather quickly, the deed was done

the fox crashed into the water, the swan saw his last sun

his long neck made it easy for the her to carry

and soon thoughts of hunger and cold were contrary

frozen feathers lay upon the grass

a swan met a fox and his end, alas

the white barbs glistened with icy frost

reflecting a tale when fates were crossed

Cyndy Engle

Millheim, Pennsylvania

January 2012

Thanks to Julochka for Blog Camp and to Elizabeth for the inspiration. Meeting these people is a good example of fates crossing ~ with very happy endings even as the tale continues...

Good Morning, Millheim

2012-01-17T05:39:00.004-05:00

Scanning the rooftops on Penn Street from my bedroom window...

When I was a teenager, I lived along the mouth of the Susquehanna River and the flats of the Chesapeake Bay. I used to look at the water each morning to get a feel for what the day would bring ~ the reflections of the sky, the choppiness of the river, and the activity of boats would often give clues. Here, many moons later, as I live in this little hamlet tucked in the mountains of Central Pennsylvania, I check out the roof tops each morning, the backdrop of the colored sky, the sway of the trees, the smoke from neighbors chimneys ~ all which also have a way of delivering the morning news...

Commence

2012-01-16T07:48:00.006-05:00

Following my daughter, Elly, as she went back to school

to start her last semester at Juniata College.

The amazing sunset and drive over the mountain

conjured many emotions...

Go West. East. South. North.

Head for the sun. Shoot for the moon and stars.

Soar. Seek. Savor.

The future awaits you. The past will be your guide.

Spread your wings. Fly.

Trust your roots, they are strong.

Sing. Listen. Breathe.

This is not the end but the beginning.

Commence.

Close your eyes. Dream. Wake. Do.

The world has been waiting for you.

Rise. Shine.

I'll always be with you. You with me.

Our hearts beat together erasing time and distance apart.

Go forth. Prosper. Bloom.

I'll always be right behind you.

Love. You. Me. Us.

No Place Like Gnome for the Holidays

2012-01-05T10:17:00.018-05:00

***The adventures of The Roaming Gnome (2011) continue!

His complete story can be found on this great blog.***

As Roamy, the roaming gnome travels the last legs of his journey, he landed here in Central Pennsylvania, a bit weary from all of his globetrotting. But we all know there is no place like gnome for the holidays, so a bit of Christmas cheer and New Year celebrations got him re-energized for his final destinations.

Roamy's bed of peanut butter fudge

made by local Amish bakers really hit the spot.

The chocolate covered whoopie pies and snickerdoodle cookies

also helped him to gain back his strength...

Roamy got to stay in a rather unique place: a theatre-turned-to-home-but-soon-to-be-home-and-theatre! The history of the building intrigued him, so a picture with a plaque made by the local historical society seemed to be a good idea...

Roamy really liked his stay here, but he did believe the title of

the next movie should be "Gnome With The Wind!"

Lots of history packed into this place.

"Gnown" for its story of how a group of women in 1917

worked together to create this amazing building, it's cornerstone

marking its 1923 completion, its doors opening to the public in 1924.

The theatre has inspired its current owners in many ways. It is home to a family of seven very busy people, an office for a computer consulting firm bringing the meaning of "mom and pop shop" to a whole new level, and the inspiration for a blog whose words and photographs are the foundation for a cobbled memory lane. 110 Penned is how the author, Cyndy, met some of the great people that Roamy has visited, and the very reason how this meeting came to be.

Numbers that inspired words and photographs

and many friendships, including Roamy.

Roamy rang in 2012 with great expectations for a wonderful new year! He knows it is going to be tough to beat the amazing experiences he had in 2011, but he is looking forward to it!

"..we've wandered many a weary foot...

seas between us broad have roared..

auld lang syne.."

While Roamy enjoyed the rest in this tranquil rural town, we thought a quick visit to the local university would help put his visit on the map in a grander scale. We visited the statue of Joe Paterno on the University Park campus of Penn State University. This would have been a must-go-to-photo-stop months ago, but now with the controversy that overshadows both Paterno and the university due to accusations of child abuse by a former football coach, a shadow looms large over the whole university. Joepa, as he is affectionally known to Penn State fans, was tangled in the ugly web of deception and forced to retire after being the head coach of the Nittany Lions for 46 years (on the sidelines at PSU for 62 years).

While Roamy really didn't care to get involved

with the details of the controversy, he could not argue that

Joe Paterno was, indeed, larger than life.

The next stop on campus was the Nittany Lion Shrine. Roamy could feel the pride and tradition of the school were as strong as its limestone icon, even if there were a few cracks.

The day began with a little snow, but then the

afternoon sun shone brightly, making it perfect for a little rock climbing.

Roamy stopped here to "paws" and catch his breath...

The holidays would not have been complete without a little of the white stuff, provided by a 'lake effect" storm. Since we are protected by the Allegheny Mountains and have a little distance from the shores of Lake Erie, we often only get a couple of inches of snow during these storms. It is the Nor' Easters that come from Roamy's New England home that really pile the stuff on...

Roamy wanted to make some snow angels, but he made this wish first...

Oh, my! Look at the time! Roamy really needs to get on his way to his next destination. We had seriously considered Mexico, but his host was going to be traveling abroad so instead he is own his way to Illinois to visit another great cyber friend, Susan.

Bon voyage, Roamy! Thanks for stopping by, and, remember: You've (always) Got a Friend in Pennsylvania!"

(If you want to read more, here are some stories about our life in the Theatre and about my views on the Penn State controversy.)

Auld Lang Syne

2012-01-04T08:23:00.008-05:00

The holidays were a bit dampened by the loss of our dear furry friend, Candie. It was terribly sad, sadder than I had expected, but I was glad that our whole family was together as we said our final good-byes. Although I have posted her story on Facebook and Flickr, and a little history once upon a time in this blog post, I wanted to make sure that it was here, too, as I put an end to 2011 and start to embrace the new beginnings of 2012.

Not intended to be our holiday photo, it turned out to be.

We wanted to have one last picture to mark our time together as a family.

Candie came into our lives just a week before we were expecting the birth

of Zachariah (pictured front, left) who is now 13 years old.

Candie loved watching "her" kids grow up,

and the kids were privileged to have such a

great dog as part of their childhood.

Now I lay me down to sleep,

My people hug me as they weep.

Unselfishly they bestowed the ultimate gift,

As I lay under the Christmas tree and start to drift.

I lift my tail and with one last sigh,

Look at them and say good-bye...

"Our Girls"

Candie of the Nineteen Acre Wood

1996 - 2011

O Holy Night!

2011-12-16T17:25:00.013-05:00

Yesterday I was listening to Christmas carols. I have been tuning into them since Thanksgiving, knowing that they can definitely put you in the mood, especially as our home under goes a major dose of Feng Shui. I am convinced that part of the reason we get into the season is because we turn our homes upside down, take time to display items that conjure memories of holidays past, and for a little while things are different...and sparkly...and smell good. It's not something that you would want all year 'round ~ perhaps it is because we only allow it to be for about one month out of the year that everything seems magical.

But back to the Christmas carols. I have tons of holiday CDs but have not loaded them into my iTunes, so I have been relying on satellite and internet radio to be my deejays. I know there must be thousands of seasonal songs, but for some reason it seems as though only a small group of tunes are played over and over again. "Baby It's Cold Outside," no matter how many variations of the duet, just gets old after awhile. I needed something with substance.

Pandora to the rescue. I found a station that played Christmas Carols as opposed to Holiday Music. I suppose that means Jesus vs. Santa in its own subtle way, but it is as if they were two totally different genres. Suddenly my world was filled with the rich sounds of the Tabernacle Choir streaming gloriously in heavenly harmony. Mannheim Steamroller was whisking me away to Nordic nights and in my mind's eye I could see the Aurora Borelis dancing to the beat of electronic symphonies. When O Holy Night played, I wanted to drop to my knees and hear the angels voices sing. God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman made me think of my mom who always played Secret Santa for those less fortunate in our neighborhood. Even Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song flowed with a true sense of home and family, sounding entirely different that it did when mixed with Santa Baby on the other stations. Carol of the Bells just makes me happy...every time, every chime.

Perhaps it is my Catholic upbringing, or maybe it is just that music always finds a way to touch my soul, or it could just be that Hallmark has finally brainwashed me after all of these years, but for a moment I was lifted and truly touched. I felt the reason for the season. I believed.

Our home is a mixture of faiths and while some may think this means that we really don't believe in anything, that couldn't be further from the truth. We have learned from one another to respect that faith comes in many fashions and just as long as we give credence to something, something that perhaps cannot be explained but means that we are all part of something bigger than just ourselves, we are good. The rest of the world should be so lucky. So while I am celebrating the birth of baby Jesus and putting up my nativity set, my daughter is storing her science books as she finishes up another semester and my oldest son is traveling thousands of miles to get back to a place he discovered really was "home" while he was away. The rest of the family is watching and learning and developing their own sense of something special that touches their soul and makes them believe.

Music continued to fill my day as we attended my youngest son's holiday concert at his school. The annual event pulls hundreds of members of the community to the school's auditorium, where we admire how much the kids have grown this year and get to see them donned in holiday apparel. While Penns Valley adheres to the politically correct direction of singing mostly secular songs, the program always has a way of keeping Christ in Christmas. No one is offended. These are our children and the pride we feel is not based from the origin of the song but rather in the notes they share. The kids finish every song with big smiles and a sense of relief that they got it right this time. We are all lifted...

...but none as much as one young man who was seated in the front row of the chorus. This child is one of the "special" ones, one that is not like the others. He cannot walk, talk or play like the other kids, but he was there, front and left of center to join the festivities. As the other kids excitedly mingled their way up and down the risers to find their designated spots, this child sat quietly, rather demure, his eyes cast down on the floor of the stage, his hands in his lap. Then the piano struck its first note and his head snapped up to attention. As the kids began to sing this child morphed into a tiny mixed version of Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder and Snoopy doing his Happy Dance, his body swaying and moving to the beat, each note broadening his smile, his eyes closed yet obviously seeing the music flow through his and every being in the room. I was in awe. This child has the challenge of the world being locked in (or out, I am not sure) of his body and mind until there is music. For him, music creates sheer joy. Instead of feeling pity for him, I felt sorry for all of the rest of us who can't seem to feel it the way he does ~ or at least show it. I am talking pure, unadulterated happiness. I was taking pictures of the whole group, but I could not take my eyes off of him. I had a perma-grin pasted to my face. The song would end and he would resume his quiet pose, patiently waiting while the conductor announced the next song. Then it would start all over again, his hands waving, his feet bouncing, his smile beaming, his eyes (when not shut) gleaming. JOY TO THE WORLD his body shouted! If I thought I felt a divine presence earlier in the day, I was seeing it in person through the grace of this child. HALLELUJAH!! I BELIEVE! The concert ended much too soon...

When I got home I tried to convey this story to my husband, but I got all choked up with tears. Tears of happiness. I've even had a hard time writing this down, constantly interrupted by the memories of his face, the movement of his body, his folded fists clapping at the end of each song. Over two thousand years ago, a small group of people gathered around a manger in a stable to behold what they believed to be the son of God. Last night I saw love animated, and whether it was God, Odin, Buddah, Allah, Einstein or some other being who delivered the message, it does not matter. Through this child, I was blessed with divine grace. O Holy Night...

What Child Is This?

The one who brought joy to my world!

* * * * *

This story is dedicated to Micah, pictured above, who hears the angels sing,

my friend Beth, who teaches children like Micah

and teaches the rest of us respect, patience and love,

and to Aune, a sweet baby who beat so many odds before she even took her first breath

but is here now to show us how life, even with challenges, is to be lived to its fullest.

* * * * *

I wrote a note to Micah's mom to get permission to post Micah's pictures.

She not only gave me permission but also a wonderful story:

"I can't tell you what an incredible treasure it is to me when other people can SEE what I see!!!

Our boy, Micah, is our oldest of 3 sons and has been such a challenge yet such an incredible special gift

to our whole family. He is one loved and adored little boy, and as his mom I am so proud of him!

I love it so much when he gets to participate in events like the one last night. I never imagined that

anyone else would enjoy his performance like I did and I'm thrilled that you would receive such a

blessing from him last night. He sure had a great time....it really was so obvious, wasn't it? :)

Thank you. THANK YOU for noticing him, for taking pause, and considering his life and what he

brings to our community here in central PA and society in general...

Just so you know Micah has cerebral palsy (c.p. for short) and is visually impaired and

non-verbal (but the boy can sing can't he?!?!). He is in Anne Gaddis's life skills classroom and

also spends some time in Mrs. Hettingers room, too, with a full time aide to help him with

his work, transitioning, bathrooming, and feeding. We're thrilled that Penns Valley allows

him to participate in as many activities as we find are appropriate...

it's provided him with a great school experience the last two years. :)"

How cool is that?

Farewell, Fair Cruelty

2011-11-10T12:34:00.007-05:00

I am sure that Paterno did not mean,

nor ever envision, that these words may haunt him:

"They ask me what I'd like written about me when I'm gone.

I hope they write I made Penn State a better place, not just that I was a good football coach."

Among the slew of comments on Facebook, Twitter and in reply to on-line news articles, the one that struck me the most this morning said, "I'm awake, but the nightmare is not over."

These past few days have been nothing short of an emotional roller coaster. From first hearing about Sandusky's arrest to reading the gory details of the grand jury report to watching what we considered the pillars of society tumble to witnessing the fury of college students rioting in the streets and across campus, it has been a mess. All this and yet we know: the nightmare is not over. First, there is still the last home game to be played this Saturday, a day that was supposed a celebration of the lives of the seniors which will now be instead a stage for more outpouring of rage and resentment. Then there are at least two more scheduled games, and we all know pregame reports and play coverage will be smattered with more talk, more rehashing of the ugly details, so much that we may have to refer to the program guide to be reminded of who we are actually playing that day. When the final whistle blows on the last game, the stage will then move to the courtroom, outlining the details of the reason this all began. There will be more tears, more shouting, more disbelief and all out utter disdain.

Shakespeare couldn't have composed a greater tragedy. We are witnessing tales of betrayal, deception, regrets, ambition, loyalty, fate, and blind passion. Pick a play, any of his accounts of trials and tribulations and you will find this story in between the lines. One man (allegedly) committed numerous crimes. But in true Shakespearean fashion, these acts created a chain reaction, revealing the flaws of other characters. A tangled web is woven and eventually becomes the demise of them all. There are no happy endings.

And what is a tale penned by Shakespeare without a little war? There is now a civil war between The Blue and The White. The Blue are those who are infuriated by the crimes committed against the children, wearing their blue ribbons to show they stand united against child abuse. Everyone agrees that we as a society are responsible for the well being of those who cannot help themselves, in particular the innocent lives of children. And while everyone agrees, it seems that only The Blue are willing to stand by it no matter what the cost. They have cast off their rose-colored glasses and see the repulsive facts laid out not between the lines but in every line of a grand jury report. They want to be known as the school who rioted because they were repulsed by the horrible acts that victimized at least eight children, not as a school that lost a guy who calls the plays on the sidelines. The White are those who believe in innocence, the type of innocence that is supposed to be presumed before one is tried by a jury of his peers. No one seems to be doubting that Sandusky will be found guilty (there is simply too much evidence that cannot be dismissed as mere coincidence). But the others have yet to get their day in court. Instead they have been convicted by public opinion, and "in the best interests of the university as a whole" have been ousted, their glowing careers doused by a tidal wave of emotions and the dire need to create a clean slate.

For those reading this that simply cannot comprehend how deep this runs for Penn Staters (just as we often have to read through the lines of Shakespeare several times, or have a teacher help to get the true meaning) here are a few facts: The Penn State alumni association is the largest dues paying organization in the U.S. According to the university, one out of every 127 American college-degree holders is a Penn State graduate. There are over 90,000 students attending classes on Penn State campuses throughout the Commonwealth on this day. Scores of thousands of people work for the institution, most making it a lifetime career. We Are...Everywhere. And, whether it is derived from propaganda, an honest love or just blind faith, we all believe we belong to one of the greatest institutions in the world, academically, socially, and philanthropically. We proudly boast our success is based on tradition filled with honor, integrity, and distinction.

And then there are the football fans. Along with the students and alumni, there are those who never attended a class at or worked a day for Penn State but who staunchly follow the football program and all its glory. Football fans are of the mindset that this sport highlights the Titans of our world, and "game day" is not a day on the calendar but a way of life. Penn State football demonstrates this like no other. Just come to one of our tailgates: hundreds of thousands of people gathered in a circle around the stadium, sharing food, game predictions and memories. For generations of people, JoePa and Penn State football are synonymous. Joe Paterno has been coaching at Penn State for 46 years. 46 years. He has been a son, a father, a grandfather to us all. We quote his words of life reflections more than his play books. In the words of Kirk Herbstreit, a sports analyst for ESPN, players (and I say fans, alike) "have learned so many valuable lessons about being a father, about being a good citizen, about being a good person" from Paterno. We Are...A Family. Penn State football isn't just a game.

And nobody knows that more that the Board of Trustees at Penn State. It knows the impact the football program has on all of the rest of the school. The money it generates alone is staggering. From tickets sales, sports paraphernalia sales, television rights, alumni and corporate contributions...the list goes on and on. Still, despite knowing this and the type of emotional response it was apt to create with its decisions, they fired Paterno. And then they fired the president of the university, and I am sure many more are yet to come. But they had to start at the top. And as I predicted the moment I heard about Sandusky being arrested, and perhaps what may have even run through the head of McQueary as he witnessed one of the heinous crimes, it is was the end. Game over. No loose ends, no gray areas, no doubt on where it stood. Penn State is an institution of education where lives are molded by the thoughts and actions of the environment in which it is taught. There is more to Penn State than just football, and there is more to life than just Penn State.

The path to recovery will be long, but the first step has been taken. And like any tragedy, we will likely have to lean on one another to get through it, painfully going through the phases of grief and loss together. We will mourn the loss of a beloved coach, but we will also stand strong about teaching others about the evils of child abuse. This does not end here but instead begins.

And most importantly, through it all, we will all proudly answer Hamlet's question, "To be or not to be?" with a simple answer: "We Are..."

(Heart) Breaking News

2011-11-08T10:43:00.010-05:00

When I moved to Happy Valley, I remember having a bit of culture shock. I had moved here from a small town, but a small town that sat along one of the U.S.'s major interstate highways, a small town that was within an hour's drive of three major East Coast cities.

One of the first things I noticed was the difference in the news. At my home in Maryland, where cable news was just in its infancy and still mostly local, I would watch channels that broadcasted from both Philadelphia and Baltimore. The evening news would be filled with graphic laden stories of crime, fires, and political corruption. The weather and sports segments were usually light hearted, giving the audience a reprieve from all of the unpleasantries. When I transplanted to Central Pennsylvania, where the population significantly decreased, there may have been a story about a fire, but it was the leading story and the only one of its kind for the night. Sports were delivered by a guy named Joe Zone (I am not making this up, but I do remember laughing out loud and saying, "Seriously?" when I first saw it). Crime was virtually non-existent, with the exception of petty theft stories which seem to be reserved for the print media. If there was a murder, it was usually family related, committed through the heat of passion and not associated with other crimes. What struck me the most was the amount of stories that were about child abuse, especially incest. This made me really uncomfortable. It is much easier to watch a story about a congressman who lied or a man who robbed a store and shot the owner. Incest and child abuse? It is ugly and the victims are the most innocent.

The news from (Un)Happy Valley today continues to be ugly at best. I finally mustered the courage to read the 23-page grand jury report which gives details about the heinous crimes of one man sexually assaulting eight children and about a host of people from the university who knew something about it and did nothing. Students, staff and alumni are heartbroken, sharing an unspeakable shame. We were betrayed by those we trusted the most, people we looked up to as heroes, people who we encouraged our children to emulate. We collectively carry the blame because that is something that we were taught by these strong figures: accountability. So disappointed that their words were just that: words. We are learning that their actions, while perhaps minimally legal, lacked morals and ethics. Their negligence had consequences for there were more victims after they shooed the perpetrator away from their premises. It was a long five years later that a high school deemed the actions of this man were inappropriate, prompting a full investigation.

In true Penn State fashion, many are rallying for the football program, especially the current team who really has nothing to do with these crimes as they practiced for a big game when the story became public. But in reality, we all know that their 8-1 record has just been sidelined. How many fans are going to be able to sit comfortably in Beaver Stadium with flags waving "Success with Honor" and truly buy it? We all drank the Blue & White CoolAid, and were blinded by loyalty and perhaps even some hero worshipping. But the CoolAid has left a really bitter taste in our mouths right now. Will the Alumni be able to sing the Alma Mater and say the words "may no act of ours bring shame" without the words getting stuck in their throats? Will they demand that Coach Paterno comes out of his box, where he has sat all season due to an injury, and offer his apologies on the 50-yard line?

This case in not about sports. The football facilities were just the scene of the crime, the perpetrator and witnesses a part of the program. The sports angle ends there, except for perhaps that money, power and prestige were at risk, causing many to create a cover up conspiracy. The victims were not even old enough to play junior high school football, no less college. We may find the officials who shamelessly turned a blind eye to these crimes to be legally innocent, but I guarantee that no one is going to accept that it was okay to keep this dirty little secret within the good ole boys network. Game over.

Today the news from our little hamlet in the mountains of Central Pennsylvania is being splashed across the world. Headlines from major newspapers are no longer talking about the honor of Penn State, but instead of dishonorable men. Cable sports channels are not talking about a team that is undefeated in its division, just about a division of loyalty and a fan base that is totally defeated. And worst of all, in the local news there continues to be a story about child abuse, only this time the family has students, staff and alumni.

We Are...Devastated

2011-11-07T16:25:00.015-05:00

My undying love and devotion to a school and a coach,

tarnished by a web of deception and indecency...

Almost 30 years ago I was riding along scenic Route 322 West headed for my version of Mecca. I had been accepted to attend Penn State University (a relief to my parents since it was the ONLY school I applied to) and my dad was driving me there for a campus visit. When asked by so many of my Maryland friends why I would dare cross the Mason-Dixon line to go to school, implying I was somehow a traitor, I replied, "It is a great school, rich in tradition, and they have a great football program run by the legend Joe Paterno." Enough said.

When we crossed over Seven Mountains and came into Happy Valley, I said to my dad, "This is it." My dad replied, "We not there yet." But I was. I was home.

We did the usual visit, walked around the campus and town, met with some teachers and then took a drive by Beaver Stadium. I was in heaven. I hadn't been there a full day and already my blood was pumping Blue and White. I remember checking out the Nittany Lion's game schedule before even looking over my course schedule. That September my dreams came true as I was one of the 80,000+ fans in the stands proudly responding to the roaring cheer of "We Are....Penn State."

And so began my love affair.

Fast forward to the late ninety's. I was still living in Happy Valley, now living the American dream: married with children and running our own business. I was what locals call a "transplant," one who came to Penn State to go to school and never left. I planned my wedding around the game schedule, dressed my kids in blue and white, and reserved every Saturday in autumn for game time. I would check in with my dad during every game, discussing the plays, rag on the opponents, and always share of word of wisdom provided by Joepa. I became a huge fan of defense ~ I was after all pledging my allegiance to "Linebacker U." The professor, dean and president of Linebacker U was Jerry Sandusky, destined to be the man who would take the helm from the aging Joe Paterno. If there was any one who could fill Joe's iconic black Nike sneakers tied with pure white laces, it was Sandusky.

Imagine my surprise and dismay when Jerry (we're all on a first name basis here) decided to retire. 1999 would be his last season. The end of a century. The end of an era. They were the same. I was appeased by the fact that Jerry was going to continue his work with The Second Mile, an organization he headed that helped at-risk children, and later thrilled that he started a youth football program at one of State College's churches (one which years later I enrolled one of my sons, proud that he was playing in an organization that was synonymous with the leader of Linebacker U).

If I thought my world was rocked then, imagine my utter dismay, disappointment and disgust when the news this weekend reported Jerry Sandusky was arrested for a staggering amount of counts (as if one was not enough) of involuntary deviate sexual intercourse, unlawful contact with a minor, endangering the welfare of a child, indecent assault and corruption of minors, ranging over the course of 13 years. And as if this was not bad enough (my stomach is still flipping), the case against Sandusky is spreading throughout the entire program like the serpent hairs of Medusa, one after another official allegedly having prior knowledge of Sandusky's indecent behavior and shamelessly looking the other way, protecting the supposed sanctity of tradition and honor ~ words which up to last week ran soul deep with pride, now echoing hollow in a very UnHappy Valley. The athletic director and one of the finance veepees is already on the chopping block, having perhaps perjured themselves in the Grand Jury case and being held responsible for not reporting a case of abuse. One of the current coaches, a local boy done good, happens to be the person who as a graduate student was witness to these heinous acts. And, yes, even Joepa, the grandfather image of our school, the man who prefers to have his name on a library than a stadium, is even implicated since the then graduate student told him of the incident. Word has it he turned the case over to school officials, but then ended it there. No follow up, no action, no nothing. Say it isn't so, Joe. Say it isn't so.

As the rock foundation of my world is quickly turning to sand, I am thinking that if this is like Medusa, we need to cut off its head, cut off its head. But no. PSU's president Graham Spanier, who, too, seems to have some prior knowledge of these incidents, is going on record of standing behind the university officials and letting PSU pay the tab for their lawyers.

It is ugly. Really ugly. We Are...there are no words.

And the plot thickens. Gossip is rampant and theories of corruption are running amok. Some are wondering if the unsolved case of the disappearance of District Attorney Ray Gricar in 2005 is related. Gricar was made aware of allegations in 1998 and even tried to set up Sandusky, hiding officers in closets while the mother of one of the abused children confronted Sandusky. Gricar then dismissed the case, citing lack of evidence. There is no indication that Gricar was aware of the new allegations came out in 2002, with witnesses, for the AD did not report anything to the police. But many are wondering if Gricar was still on the case, keeping it low on the radar since, as one story quotes, he would've have been careful in his investigations with Sandusky being such a high profile person (big on reputation and money in the Centre Region). Gricar is "gone" now, his hard drive from his computer with all of his notes destroyed, so we really know nothing, but people are still talking.

In my now paranoid state, I am thinking of the case of Rene Portland, the beloved women's basketball coach who was suddenly fired and banished in 2007 from the Happy Valley kingdom for having negative views about sexual orientation. PSU was willing to destroy the life of a woman who gave 27 years to building one of the most winning programs over an opinion but was blind and dumb to a man raping young boys in showers on campus? Portland was fired and left town seemingly overnight. I read that she had a sale and sold everything she had that was Penn State related. Did she know something? Did she threaten to expose them? I remember being really surprised that Joepa did not stand up for her. I don't remember that he did anything at all. I reconciled this behavior by believing that Joe just wouldn't have anything to do with something that could taint the Blue and White image.

Well (said with a very heavy sigh), the Blue and White is now Black and Blue.

The whole story is just now unraveling, so there is surely more ghastly details to be revealed. In all fairness, Sandusky is now just accused and arrested. He has not been convicted by a jury of his peers. Yet. But it is not looking good, and I fear in the wake of his demise that not just a football program but an entire institution is going down with him. At the very least, PSU's stellar reputation for honor is now forever tainted. PSU is going to have to work very hard to restore confidence and trust in its loyal community, and words alone are not going to accomplish this deed.

Until then, I will have to continue reading words like "Pedophile State," which stick life a knife in my heart and a lump in my throat...

Steve Jobs: A Thread in the Tapestry of My Life

2011-10-06T10:43:00.005-04:00

Reflections of a man that touched my life...

Steve Jobs, 1955 - 2011

Today is another day. The world did not stop spinning. Someday, someday soon the technology will be replaced. But always, always, I will remember the first day I typed on a Mac and felt unlimited potential, the first Mac my fiancée and I invested in which turned into a business and partnership we are still privileged to have 20+ years later, the day I was able to take all of my favorite songs everywhere with me on a tiny Shuffle that fit in my pocket, the posters of "the crazy ones" that we proudly hang in the lobby of our 85 year-old "home theatre" because we, too, Think Different, the first photographs that I was able to convert to watercolors and pastels because that was the way I saw them when I shot them, the laughter and tears of my favorite movie "Finding Nemo," the warmth of my MacBook as it sat on my lap and freed me from a desk, the song I produced for someone across the world ~ a friend I met on the internet through blogging, the incredible sensation of artistic freedom when I used my fingers to create on an iPad. Steve Jobs would credit his extraordinary team at Apple for making all of this possible, but it was his vision, his genius for knowing what tools I needed to free my creative spirit and to be productive at the same time. He got it. And because he did, so did I. I will forever be grateful. Today a family is missing their husband and father, a company its leader, and the rest of the world a man who turned potential into possibility into reality. Today is another day. The world did not stop spinning. But it is somewhat a bit emptier...

Time to Forget, Time to Heal

2011-09-11T12:12:00.022-04:00

The Lower Manhattan skyline as seen from the Staten Island Ferry in 2010.

I am going out on a limb here, and, if misunderstood, may likely offend many. But I believe there is something that needs to be said. This thought I do not take lightly, nor offer flippantly. Indeed, it has taken me 10 years to reflect upon this thought and then have the guts to even write it ~ half afraid to say it out loud. So please read and digest before making any judgements.

Here it goes: As to the events of September 11, 2001, we do not need to remember. We need to forget.

There. I said it. I am NOT saying that we should forget those that lost their lives on that day. They were murdered in mass numbers, some right before our incredulous eyes, and it was a horrible, horrible day. NOR am I referring to any victim of the victims, like those who lost a family member or companies/organizations that were obliterated, losing their people, assets and income all in one dreadful moment. I am talking about our nation as a whole and how we may learn something from the victims of the victims: that is, we need to move on.

When I was a college student in the mid 1980's, I took an international communications course. One of the biggest issues we discussed was terrorism, something that criss-crosses not only international borders but also ideological and religious lines. The definition of terrorism is "to create and maintain a state of fear or distress in (someone)." The first rule we were taught as aspiring journalists was that in the case of terrorism we were not to provide any more press than the facts. We were not to editorialize or sensationalize any of the event or give it undue air time for that would actually be working in the interest of the terrorists, that is helping to maintain the state of fear. Sadly, in today's world of 24 hour news, supported by advertising where cost is based on ratings, this rule somehow got changed. So, on 9/11 we were all collectively glued to our televisions, endlessly browsing the internet, and poring through newspapers and magazines filled with photographs and opinions, filling our minds with indelible images that would not allow us to forget. Indeed, every anniversary we are reminded, again and again.

Our initial behavior was understandable. We were in shock and denial and we were anxiously trying to figure out why and how something this horrendous could happen. People died. Our defense was penetrated. Our national pride was tattered and torn. Everything we held sacred was buried in the rubble on the streets of Manhattan, on a hill in Washington, D.C. and across a field in rural Pennsylvania. I remember so many people saying that it was like a movie, albeit a bad one, as they replayed the images of the World Trade Center towers falling, the people covered in ashes walking like zombies, tanks crawling on the streets of our nation's capitol, newscasters at a loss for words even though their video feeds spoke volumes. We were terrorized.

Then came the tears. We wept when we saw people jumping from the burning buildings. We sobbed when we learned of the scores of fireman who heroically tried to do their jobs and ultimately sacrificed their own lives in the line of duty. Our hearts broke into a million pieces when we saw candles burning amid mounds of flowers and names scrawled on make-shift walls listing the missing. We would get choked up every time we saw an American flag. Our eyes even glistened as we watched our elected officials stand together, arm in arm, singing "God Bless America" on the steps of the Capitol Building. We were tormented.

Then we felt guilty. In response we instantly starting making promises to the families of the deceased, first that we would never forget and second that we would compensate them for their losses. We not only paid them a death benefit, but then we started creating policies, such as making sure that each of their children were entitled to special financial privileges when it was time for them to go to college. This did not sit well with me and I began to seriously wonder about how we were handling this tragedy. It was not that I did not believe that these people deserved our assistance and attention, but as a child raised in the military world, I took umbrage that these people were somehow considered more important that the people who put their lives on the line everyday. Yes, soldiers are paid to deal with the evils of war, civilians are not, but the families of soldiers make many concessions on a daily basis (low pay, living worlds apart, constantly on the move, etc.), and they expect nothing more than a social security check and a folded flag if their loved one dies in the line of duty. What kind of message were we sending? We were victimized.

Then we got angry. We needed to find out who was responsible and to retaliate. How dare someone trespass on our property and commit such heinous crimes? So we went to war, overseas, of course. We sent a message out to the rest of the world: You are either with us or against us. No gray lines. We learned that Osama bin Laden was the mastermind behind this evil event, but we also decided to destroy anyone else who had pissed us off or who was a threat to democracy along the way. No one messes with Uncle Sam. We were threatened.

On the home front we started passing laws that were clearly a violation of our individual rights, but we did so in the name of patriotism. We heightened the security in our government buildings and transportation systems. This security included, but was not limited to, simply searching our beings for weapons, but also allowing officials to monitor our communications, our financial activities, and our medical histories. The Patriot Act also gave law enforcement officials more leverage, allowing them to ignore basic (or at least bend the rules of) American freedoms that protect us from being unduly searched, detained, questioned, etc. If anyone challenged this authority, or even suggested as I am now that this was wrong and could lead to much bigger issues, then he was not a patriot. We were browbeaten into harassing our own people.

And the story has continued for 10 years. The fear is being maintained and we are not only allowing it, we are feeding it. We will not forget.

So far, in this recap of events, we are following the natural, healthy steps of grief. This is a good thing, since it has been proven that in order to really heal, one must go through these stages. There is no doubt that our country was injured on September 11, 2001, and the devastation was wide and deep, physically and emotionally. But because we were also terrorized, just as the evil doers intended, we have made decisions that have caused us to come to this point in the grieving process and stop. We will not forget. This started September 12, 2001, and continues until this day. We are stuck in the depression, reflection and loneliness phase. We will not forget. While at first united in the tragedy, we have since become even more divided ~ politically, religiously and ideologically. Even as our country started to disintegrate economically, we were too busy being mad and wanting revenge ~ still so scared ~ that we forgot to embrace what it was that made this country the envy of the rest of the world ~ indeed, why those airplanes even became weapons on that fateful day. We are now walking on egg shells, distrusting people's motives, isolating ourselves from the rest of the world and going broke. So long as we remain intimidated, the terrorists will continue to win.

Anyone who dies would never want their loved ones to survive them in agony and distress. Why are we doing this to our nation? We will not forget.

PLEASE! WE NEED TO FORGET! We need to heal. We need to stand up and not be terrorized anymore. We need to honor those who died that day by showing this did not devastate our country into a point of stagnation, paranoia, oppression or depression. We still have many steps to take in the stages of grief before we can be completely restored, so let's not delay anymore. Let's decide on this 10th anniversary that today is the day we are going to stop the madness.

On September 12, 2011, families who lost their loved ones in Shanksville, PA, on September 11, 2001, will be holding a private funeral. No public onlookers or politicians making speeches or a media fanfare are invited to attend. The remains of 44 passengers of Flight 93, which includes the 40 passengers who we now know willingly died to prevent further destruction mixed with the four terrorists, will be quietly laid to rest. All of them will fit into three coffins that will be interred in a peaceful pasture, marked by a single boulder with a small plaque. A father of one of the victims says this will be the last funeral where he will memorialize his son. For him, the matter will now be closed.

Perhaps this father has not so much decided to forget but rather to stop reliving the moment. It's a start. I wish him peace and good memories. I do the same for the rest of us. Forget. Maybe even try to forgive. For only then can we truly live in peace and let the song of Freedom once again ring with pride.

New construction at the World Trade Center site in New York City in 2010.

Crickfest 2011

2011-09-08T00:12:00.010-04:00

There's a tradition brewing in Penns Valley:

C R I C K F E S T

Each year, on the Sunday of Labor Day Weekend,

folks come together to celebrate

the beauty of our land and our community.

Rear View Mirror Reflections

2011-08-22T10:50:00.027-04:00

My oldest son out for a ride when I was doing the same.

Captured him in the side rear view mirror riding away.

This image pulls on my heart strings for it was just a couple of weeks

before he left for his freshman year of college, thousands of miles away...

Our nephew just turned 13. His parents were happy, but interestingly enough, they both focused (as I am sure the child did) on the fact that now he is a teenager. This conjured a little anxiety. Been there, done that, still have that to look forward to again. This was my advice to them:

Having teenagers is really no different from when they were newborns or toddlers: Pay attention to subtle changes, try the best you can to keep them out of harm's way, and give them lots of love (even when ~ especially when ~ they say they hate you). Tune into the noises (more groans and mumblings now than coos and goos), trust you know best when to just let them cry, and take lots of pictures (even if they always grimace). On the plus side, they will no longer fight you about naps and there are no diapers to change. Some tough things on the horizon: cars (don't know which is worse: them driving or wanting to ride with a friend), romance (something apparently you know nothing about), and watching them leave for college with such glee that you confuse it as them wanting to leave rather than just wanting to grow up.

And, remember, I am always there paving the path ahead of you, hopefully making the journey a little smoother and always willing to share the road map (even if I am just making it up as I go along).

* * * * * * * * *

Some More Rear View Mirror Reflections Observed a Couple of Days Later

I drove into town with our youngest, the 10 year old, the other day. He immediately jumped into his usual seat in the back, even though the front passenger seat was available. I was just about to invite him to move up when I realized that I should enjoy this moment while I can. He'll be "up front" and even in the driver's seat before I know it.

And so the story continues...

Riding into the Sunset

2011-08-03T10:38:00.002-04:00

A snapshot that my father-in-law carried in his wallet for years,

hence the wear and tear ~ but I think that adds to the story. They were together 59 years...

Clair Engle, 1935 - 2011. My father-in-law, a modern day shepherd, who grew up on a sheep ranch in Montana and then traveled the world with his wife and four sons while working on his PhD, teaching others ovine science. He was an associate professor at Penn State University before he retired to the mountains that he loved in Cody, WY. He battled cancer and its woes for many years, and now finally rests in peace.

My first dance with my new father-in-law 23 years ago.

I felt special for I was the first daughter in the family, and I was chosen...

PC Medics 20th Anniversary

2011-08-03T10:31:00.002-04:00

110701 PC Medics Anniversary, a photo by 110Penned on Flickr.

In June 1991, my husband and I started a company that focused on taking care of Apple Computers and their users. 20 years later, we are proud to offer the most personalized service for the (still) most personal computer. We are also delighted that we have been able to remain both business partners and partners in life through the years ~ not always easy to work and live with your spouse, but we've done it!

The Engles Have Been to IngleBean Coffee House

2011-02-23T16:06:00.015-05:00

My darling husband and I finally had a free moment together today. We decided to go and check out one of Millheim's newest hot spots: The IngleBean Coffee House. Located on Main Street, just a nice short block away for us to walk, we are thrilled to see yet another enterprise opening in our town.

We were greeted at the door with smiles from

Martha, our host and the proprietor, and Kelly, the baker

~ AND by these awesome looking muffins that were

soaking in the morning sun

and calling my name...

We walked over to the counter to look over the menu,

but these cookies were very distracting!

It took awhile to order ~ there were many great choices

and we simply could not make up our minds.

Hmmm. Again, distracted.

Looks like banana bread will be coming again soon.

Making mental note to return and start the weekend off right...

Mark decided upon the IngleBean coffee,

a house speciality latté and a cinnamon scone...

and I choose a very nice blend

of raspberry tea.

We also decided to split

a very yummy curry chicken sandwich

served on bread baked by the Millheim Bread

Company, panini style.

After we sweetened our drinks,

we decided to check out our table options.

There was a lovely table for two...

and a sitting area that looked like

a great place to meet with friends...

a quiet place to do some work

or read the newspaper...

and, of course, tables by the

great front picture windows

where one can people watch.

There was free WiFi

which connected quickly and effortlessly

to our iPads so that we could

check our mail and surf the 'net,

but there were many other items

around if you wanted to be unplugged...

or do some quiet reading

or play a board game.

No matter where you looked,

there was plenty to enjoy,

attention given to every detail.

And I am predicting

IngleBean's Coffee House

will soon be very much

a "Valley Thang,"

a favorite place to visit

with family and friends...

And you will find me sitting here!

Whether you live in Penns Valley or

are lucky enough to be visiting our beautiful area,

you should be become a fan of The IngleBean Coffee House

either in person or on Facebook,

where Martha posts the soups of the day

and let's you know what is coming out fresh from the oven.

February Kicks Off with Groundhogs, Obama and Football

2011-02-04T10:35:00.016-05:00

I captured this reflection as the ice

from The Groundhog Day Storm began to melt.

I thought the oil streaks mixed with the tree was very telling,

especially since it was taken on the eve of President Obama's

visit to the area to talk about energy conservation.

President Obama visited Penn State University yesterday to talk about energy efficiency and innovation. He was originally scheduled to be here on February 2nd, but a huge snow and ice storm, now dubbed The Groundhog Day Storm, delayed his travel plans. The event was closed to the public (3,000 people attended by invitation only) but I watched him speak through a live video feed on the internet.

Obama unveiled the Better Buildings Initiative, a proposal to improve energy efficiency of buildings by 20 percent over the next 10 years. "Homes and businesses consume 40% of the energy that we use...contributing to 40% of carbon pollution," he said. Through renovations and preservation of existing homes and commercial buildings, Obama suggested this initiative will save energy costs and create new jobs.

Obama also challenged the student population and the university researchers to create better energy solutions. If we "harvest the energy of the young people," he claimed, "we will win," suggesting Penn State's research can be as competitive and successful as its football program. "A researcher in an on-campus lab is just as important as the starting quarterback in Beaver Stadium."

“It’s time to stop subsidizing yesterday’s energy. It’s time to invest in tomorrow’s,” said Obama.

“Innovation is what this country is all about, sparking the imagination and creativity of our people, unleashing new discoveries. That’s what America does better than any other country on earth,” he said.

To help pay for this initiative, Obama has asked Congress to eliminate “the billions in taxpayer dollars that we currently give to oil companies.”

It was a good visit with a great message, but mixed with a bit of irony since Obama flew here and back on the Air Force One jet and was shuttled to the university with a multitude of SUVs. Actions speak louder than words, Mr. President.

It's fourth and one, and I'm not ready to punt. Park the jet, visit us through technology, and tell Congress to stop drawing lines in the sand with party lines. The crowd is on its feet, desperate for a victory. We don't want a cheerleader ~ we need a quarterback with good offensive coaches with a solid game plan. That's not just the Penn State way, that's the American way.

* * * * *

It was nice to have our renovation and preservation work on Our Home Theatre validated. Although it ~~has taken~~ is taking many years, we are slowly converting a building that used 19th century resources into one that reflects newer technologies. We have replaced single pane drafty wooden sashed windows with sealed vinyl sashed windows that will not require the continual maintenance of painting with oil-based paints and which have E Class glass that uses and blocks sunlight efficiently. We have invested in a propane heating system that replaced the coal furnace and pot bellied wood stoves (that we never used because they were antiquated), kerosene burners and electric base board heaters. Our new system now uses a resource that burns cleaner and more efficiently and which flows throughout all of our living space. We replaced the old knob and tube wiring system that used porcelain fuses with cotton covered wires to a 400-amp service, complete with new breaker boxes and wiring. All of these renovations are not only saving energy but also making our home a safer place to live.

Are we saving money and energy? It's really hard to say. Our electric bill has been cut in half but we are using electricity in more places. We are spending a lot more on heating bills, but that is because we are now heating nearly all of 3,000 sq. ft. of living space that used to be addressed only room to room on an as needed basis. Before, we had to make sure we always had kerosene on hand, buying it nearly every other day, slogging 5 gallon containers in and out of the house, getting up early and staying up late to keep the fire lit, all while enduring the smelly fumes. Our huge hallways were always freezing, there was never a feeling of even heat anywhere, and there was always the issue of safety having both the fumes flowing and an open flame burning in our home. With our new system, we keep the thermostat at 65 degrees, so it is certainly not tropical in our home, but this is easily remedied with sweaters and slippers, throw blankets when we sit on the couches, and we no longer have to run the 100 yard dash from our bedrooms to the bathroom. These utility upgrades also allowed us to make other improvements, like adding a washer and dryer to the home, ending an 8-year love/hate relationship with the local laundry mat. So, while it is costing us more in cash (both in initial investments and daily use), our quality of life has definitely improved and our carbon footprint has grown smaller.

But there is so much more to do. We have a total of 8,000 sq. ft. to heat, cool, wire and use. We have explored solar and geothermal alternatives, but neither will work well with our existing building and lot. We have a huge roof that could easily hold solar panels, but the roof is tin and requires maintenance, so the panels would have to be removed every 5 years or so ~ not an easy task. As to geothermal, our building takes up almost all of our lot, so unless we can find a way to dig in our basement, that option is out, too. We could put mini windmills on our roof (that option is still being explored) and there are other underground alternatives that do not require deep digging still under consideration, but short of having our own hydrogen fuel cell, we are currently going to have to stay on the grid and focus on things we can control like insulation and conservative energy use...

...at least until something new is discovered. I certainly hope the scientists and engineers were listening to Mr. Obama. I don't play football, but I am a huge fan, and, if necessary, could even be a cheerleader!

My Year in Pictures

2011-01-24T09:30:00.054-05:00

In 2010 I joined 61 other people across the world and decided to take and share one picture a day for a whole year through the Blog Camp 365 in 2010 Project. In the end, there were probably less than 20 people who consistently participated, and I think there were literally only a handful of days that I missed taking a picture (though there were many days that I took hundreds of pictures ~ and on those days that I missed taking a picture, I processed pictures). By the end of the year I uploaded 1,622 pictures of which 389 were submitted to the BC365 project. I not only took pictures each day, but I also wrote descriptions about each of my photos, and I commented on nearly every picture that was submitted to our group (no small feat considering there were about 7,110 photos) discussing their photo techniques, their style and their lives. According to Flickr stats, my pictures and/or sets were viewed 16,884 times over the course of the year. That's a lot of numbers, but the experience was so much more than that.

In the end, I learned a lot about photography, my camera and myself. I learned to carry my trusty FujiFilm FinePix S5700 at all times, to have back up batteries charged and an extra memory card at the ready, and to create many lists of potential shots (some written, more mental). I became obsessed with natural light learning how, when and where it traveled through the windows of my home, across the mountains, through the fields, and across the streams. As I got very familiar with the different scenes and community around Penns Valley, I became quite intimate with my neighborhood on Penn Street in Millheim. I also learned to look up, down and all around, thrilled with the details of colors, patterns and textures. I hardly ever used my flash, I stopped using the LCD display and exclusively used the eyepiece to view potential shots, and I learned what to expect from the auto settings on my camera, now knowing which is best for any given situation. They say to form a habit, you must do something for 30 days; I say to form a lifestyle, try doing something daily for a year. And that's what makes the difference between just taking pictures and becoming a photographer: when you develop a lifestyle that includes the habits, cultures, behaviors and customs of seeing the world through your lens.

Here's a summary of what I saw, learned and experienced in 2010. While it is, indeed, a visual diary of my days in 2010, it is also a chronicle of how photography became a part of me and helped me grow as person. (Click on the photo mosaic to see the thumbnails bigger, or you can click on the monthly title to see the individual photos and their descriptions.)

January 2010: Creating the Habit

This month was mostly about learning

to carry my camera with me at all times,

seeing the world through the view of my lens,

and carving out time in my schedule to make sure I could do this project.

Many of the subjects were items that simply caught my eye, with no planning,

and I learned that I had much to learn.

February 2010: The ABCs of Penns Valley

This month was a lot much structured than the first.

I created a list of potential shots in Penns Valley and then designated

each day of the month to a specific letter, following the calendar with the alphabet.

This was tough. The winter weather did not always cooperate and sometimes subjects were not

available on its given day, so I often had to choose an alternative and punt.

But this mini project did have a sort of photojournalism feel to it with the specific assignments,

and the planning helped me to further develop the habit of taking a picture a day.

March 2010: A Lenten Season

I dedicated the month of March (and some days in February and April)

to the Lenten season by only posting black and white pictures.

Through the absence of color

I learned a lot about textures, patterns, and light.

There were many times that I wanted to show the original colors,

especially since the Spring hues were starting to emerge,

but this assignment taught me discipline ~ and, looking back,

gave me some of my favorite pictures of the year.

April 2010: Earth Month

Again, trying to give myself some structure but also allowing

for some freedom to stretch my photographic wings,

I choose to photograph items that would illustrate a list

of quotes that celebrated Mother Earth. Spring had sprung, the days

were lighter longer, and colors were blooming around every corner.

Sometimes I would look for a photograph that would match a saying,

other times I would match a saying to the photograph, giving

me a lot more flexibility than I had with my ABC project,

but providing the structure that I needed to continue the project.

May 2010: Epiphany

May was a turning point for me with this project.

I really began to believe that I could take a good picture and I felt

really good about how all the elements were coming together.

It was also a very dark month for me. Participants in our

group had decreased to less than half of its original members,

feedback was few and far in between, and I began to wonder

why the hell I was doing this. Yes, I was getting better, but who cared?

I was truly ready to quit. After all, it was taking a least an hour or two

each day to take the picture(s), upload the picture(s), comment on all

of the pictures in the pool, and add to the community discussions.

I began to feel that my camera was inadequate, that my pictures

sucked and that no one really took this project seriously.

But then I realized that there were about a half dozen people

who were probably feeling the same as me, and the thought

of just putting down my camera depressed me. So I stuck it out.

I continued to comment, but stopped looking to see if anyone

was looking at my pictures, I stopped blogging to focus just

on the BC365 project, and I limited my time taking pictures and uploading.

Some of the things that bugged me never changed the rest of the year,

but my perspective did and that made all of the difference.

I took advantage of not having any assignments and just

took pictures for me without much regard to how they would be received.

It may seem a bit selfish, but I realized then that no one

was going to help me finish this project except myself.

I no longer worried about Explored pictures, stats, or what

anyone felt about my photos. I was going to finish this project

despite everything. It was my project and it was up to

me to find value and pride in it.

June 2010: Family

With this renewed sense of how I was approaching the project

June came and went with less focus on the project and more

on time with my family. I posted pictures of hamburgers that

made me think of my mom, memories of canoe floats with all of the kids,

time out eating hot grilled foods and cold ice cream sundaes,

a special birthday with my dad and some lazy times that sang

a song of summer with a slow, lazy tempo. I felt renewed and more inspired.

The moments I captured were not necessarily "art," but they

were from each day of the month and feelings of quitting were long gone.

July 2010: Traveling

Despite the oppressive heat that settled into our part of the country,

I traveled with our kids to see special events and to visit family.

Each trip had a different set of kids, so it was a vacation within a vacation.

We started with some local fun, enjoying Central Pennsylvania's annual

4th Fest and the Festival of the Arts in State College, not really traveling far

but enjoying the celebrations with hundreds of thousands of visitors.

Then we hit the road and went to a concert in Pittsburgh, and a week later,

another in Columbia, Maryland (stopping by my old home town of

Havre de Grace to show the kids some of my history and to touch the water).

The month ended with a fun train ride that took us to New York City,

where we visited family and even got to meet one of the members from

the BC365 group, Kristina and her husband from Sweden. My photos

were like postcards to my heart, each capturing a memory that will last a lifetime.

August 2010: Coming Home

After a month of running from place to place, it felt so good to come home.

It wasn't just about coming back to our house on Penn Street.

It was about discovering what I really wanted to get out of this project

and about knowing that our house, our neighborhood, our community

all had stories to share and that I had the perfect opportunity

to share it visually. I really do love our life in Penns Valley.

The views are incredible, the people are wonderful and the lifestyle

truly the envy of many. We eat local foods, play in clean waters, know

most of our neighbors by name (by neighbors I mean all those living up and

down the Valley, not just the ones next door) and are lucky to be in

this special little bubble of highly educated, motivated and active people

who appreciate the natural resources that surround us.

It was time to start sharing this love and the photo opportunities

that just seemed to grow with this new inspiration.

September 2010: Colors

The dry and hot weather made for awful days in the summer,

but they were also the perfect recipe for an incredible autumn.

Indian Summer seemed to last forever, the foliage colors blazed

throughout the mountains and valleys, and our schedule changed

with the advent of a new school year. September has always been my favorite

month, but now through my lens I was seeing glowing sunsets, foggy mornings,

and bountiful harvests all painted with a full spectrum of glorious colors.

The BC365 group seemed to have a renewed sense of energy, too,

and the inspiration was flowing from one submission to another.

And for those of us who remained true to the project all year, we began

to see the light at the end of the tunnel. We were going to make it to the

end of the year ~ it was certain! The habits were in place, the styles defined,

the community well developed. While we were posting some good stuff, we

now knew that this was temporary ~ that picture was just for that day and we were

going to go back out and do it again the next day, today's picture tomorrow's history.

On the same token, we knew when there wasn't such a great day that it, too, was only for a day.

Tomorrow always offered the opportunity to begin anew.

October 2010: Reflections

The colors of autumn continued to dazzle me in October

and the lower light from the sun just seemed to glow. I was gaining

a lot more confidence in my photography and style which

felt like I was finally in my own skin. I captured the wonders of the harvest

season ~ so important to an agricultural community ~ while balancing

it with some great times with family and some moments of

solitude visiting my favorite Penns Valley scenes. It was almost as if I was

always "on." If the sun was shining, I just knew that Penns Creek would be, too,

offering wonderful reflections of the colors and silhouettes of the season.

It was also starting to get close enough to the end of the project that I began

reflecting about where I started nearly a year ago, which just seem to strengthen

my resolve to not only finish, but also to try to step it up a notch.

It was like I was running a marathon and I hit the time of the race

with endorphins flowing and adrenaline rushing,

helping me kick it up while I visualized the finish line.

November 2010: "The Wall"

November is still such a blur to me. I was suddenly caught up in many family

projects, the upcoming holidays, and end of year work. I took my pictures each day,

but it was more like it was just one more item on an ever-growing To Do list.

Don't get me wrong: taking time out each day to take my picture saved me.

It gave me a few moments each day to breathe deeper, to stop and reflect,

to see that there was actually still color to be seen in what are normally

very grey skies. Perhaps I was hitting "the wall" in my marathon race

and was just too delirious to know it. But my habits were strong now and

I couldn't possibly go through the day without thinking about what picture

I was going to take. I had a lot of indoor pictures, not my favorite (stupid

white balance), and quite often many were taken literally at the 11th hour.

But the end was in sight, and I was going to finish...

December 2010: The Finale

From the very beginning, I pictured what December was going to be like:

my photography skills were going to be improved ten fold,

taking and uploading pictures would be a snap,

endless conversations would go on between members

since now they were like family to me.

While this very likely could have been the scenario,

it wasn't.

Life just got in the way.

I started off the month sick, never got more than four hours of sleep each night,

and I was drowning in a sea of things to do, all with drop-dead deadlines.

My photographs were mediocre.

I was just going through the motions.

I think I missed taking pictures 2 days,

which were 2 out of maybe like 5 for the whole year!

I didn't have the time or the energy to check in with the group.

When I did upload, I did several days' worth of photos at one time,

"dumping" photos at BC365 without even a quick hello.

That part bothered me the most

because many of the members of BC365 did become great friends.

I felt like I abandoned them.

It was awful.

But I finally learned to forgive myself,

remembering (and continuing to use my marathon analogy)

that runners at the end of the race look pretty bad, too.

Their faces and leg muscles are twisted into an image

that only Edvard Munch or his mother could love.

It is raw human spirt at its worse

~ and at its best ~

for they finished.

And so did I.

* * * * *

E P I L O G U E

So my story did not have a fairy-tale ending. How many real stories do?

But I am a believer in the happily-ever-after and am glad to report that many of the

members of BC365 decided to continue their photography with a new group

called Postcards to Blog Camp. We all realized that we would miss checking in with each other,

sharing our stories along with our photographs. The rules are much looser than with BC365.

We can take and add pictures whenever we like, trying to keep in touch on at least

a weekly basis. Some have decided to try another Picture-A-Day project, but I declined.

At the time of this posting, I am still taking pictures pretty much on a daily basis,

but I have been enjoying the release of pressure. That pressure was really self-imposed,

I know, but I have never heard of a runner doing back-to-back marathons, and if any do,

they must be crazy! No, seriously, it was a fantastic project in which I learned so much,

but now it is time for me to take those skills to a new level and to begin work on some other projects.

Photography will be included,

I am sure of that, but now on different terms.

I am even quite certain that it will be the springboard

for much more to come.

This story would not be complete without a special thanks to my family who endured

this project from Day 1 through Day 365. They patiently waited for me

while I took "just one more shot," listened to me go on and on about the light,

helped me to remember my camera when running out the door,

and became my best critics as well as last minute subjects.

Some of my kids have even began to take an interest in photography, as well,

so there is, after all, a happily-ever-after ending!

The End? No, It's Just the Beginning...

2011-01-22T15:05:00.011-05:00

It's been a long road

and now I've reached the crest,

I've journeyed many hills and dales,

The last thing I want to do is rest...

Last year I took on a picture a day project. Sounds simple, right? Take one picture, upload it, done. Well, never to be one to "just" do things, I took this project rather seriously, putting all other creative outlets on hold while I clicked and commented. I uploaded over 1,600 pictures in 2010, wrote descriptions, commented on other's submissions, met a whole new community of imaginary friends, and along the way found that I could take a good picture or two. It was a wonderful year and I learned so much ~ as much about myself as photography ~ and I highly recommend the process for many, many reasons.

But now the project is over (well it continues, but in a different way) and I find myself wondering how I can combine my first love (writing) with my new passion (photography). I must have known they would someday be combined when I updated the title to this blog to 110 Penned & Pixelated, but I am still not quite sure how together they will create a synergy without becoming all too consuming. I need to feed the soul but am not looking for an all-you-can-eat buffet. While photography allows me to be engaged with the real world, I still find myself stepping on the outer edges to get the shots that fascinate my mind's eye. And my writing requires solitude and seclusion. It is difficult to stand on the sidelines of a busy life filled with family, business, renovations, dreams, etc.

One of the definitions of reflections is "the throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat or sound without absorbing it." While I want to reflect, I also want to absorb. Ay, there's the rub. Always wanting it all.

I don't have the answers. Yet. But I do know that 110 Penned & Pixelated is at the foundation and I just need to jump in and start once again. A nice transition will be to continue with my photo routine and to interject some thoughts along the way. In my photography project I discovered about 3/4 of the way through what it really meant to me. Perhaps with a little discipline mixed with a whole lot of creativity, I will find the same with this renewed endeavor.

Here's to new beginnings...

Oh, Gee!

2010-05-20T12:04:00.009-04:00

I got a chance this week to transplant flowers and herbs into the planter. I do not have a green thumb, but I am usually pretty successful at this annual endeavor with my little front yard. Thankfully, I have neighbors who are master gardeners and that usually makes me look pretty good!

Here is a little mosaic of the things that are growing around me. The quality of pictures are not that great (from the process of making the mosaic), but if you would like to see them in better resolution, you can check most of them out at my Flickr Photostream. (You can also click on the image to enlarge and see more details, albeit fuzzy ones).

Let the season begin!

War of the Worlds

2010-05-17T14:58:00.021-04:00

This image says it all for me.

The windows allow a way to look to the future

but that will always be combined with

mirrors of the past. The two must work together...

I've been taking some time recently for some self evaluation. This can be pretty brutal for I am my worst critic, but I have always found this process to be rather enlightening. It usually happens when I am cleaning (perhaps why it is not done on a regular basis) or sometimes when I am driving. But mostly it is centered around a recurring event, a time when I do a lot of reflection, both forwards and backwards. It could be a birthday, an anniversary, or even something as simple as an oil change for the car, but something triggers me to sit back and truly evaluate my goals, my inner self, me.

April was full of events that could have easily set off this trigger and perhaps the reason for such a long consideration. There were many birthdays (not mine, but those in my family which certainly do conjure many memories), my first blogging anniversary (at least the first of when I opened my blog to the public) and it was spring, a time of renewal and rejuvenation. I was doomed. It was time to crawl into my deep inner self and have a talk...

You know it's time to evaluate when the reflections

are clearer than the true surroundings...

I have come to the conclusion that I am currently living in two different worlds. One being my everyday world of family, business, and life in general. The second being my internet world where I create and read blogs, participate in a photography group, and skim through social outlets like FaceBook and Twitter. It is becoming increasingly more obvious that these two worlds just do not mesh, at least in their current form. Although each item from the internet world does not take much time individually, when I group them together, I see that quite a chunk of time each day is devoted to a life that does not pay the bills, does not do the laundry, does not spend face to face time with my family. Those are three things that I definitely cannot afford to ignore. On the other hand, my internet world has allowed me to grow as an individual, to satiate a quiet voice that has whispered for years to enjoy spending time writing and taking pictures and interacting with interesting people. Being someone who tends to take things to their extreme, it is difficult for me to find a happy medium.

Must nuture, not neglect...

My family suggests an easy solution: turn off the computer and walk away. I tried. I cried. I really felt as though a part of me was cut off. I can't exactly say what exact thing I missed the most, but I could say that I suddenly felt stifled. I spend everyday supporting each member of my family as they grow and learn. I am a taxi driver for sports and clubs, help with homework and class assignments (x5), act as a sounding board on how our business should grow and then "make it so," and, oh, so much more while also trying to keep some semblance of order in the routine responsibilities of owning and running a home and a business. I love all of these things ~ they define me ~ and I love keeping busy. But they do not necessarily nurture me. And, I believe, in order to do all of the things listed (including "the, oh, so much more"), I feel like I need that to do my job well. So I defined the problem. Now I needed a solution.

The pieces are all there ~ just need to put them together...

A few years ago I took what I now call my "sabbatical" from my life and joined the "real" workforce. I accepted a rather demanding position that required me to be out of the house from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., that had projects that simply could not be left at the office for another day, that needed dry cleaning and dry humor. Believe it or not, I thought I wanted these things. That is until I would come home exhausted and not want to make dinner, until I missed one after another of my kids' games and concerts, until I had to resign from all of my volunteer positions because I had no time, until I watched our business wane. That job would have been great when I first got out of college. And even though it required the maturity and experience of someone who had long ago forgotten about everything she read in a text book, it just was not the place or time for someone who had a large active family. Although I was a bit depressed when I walked away from it all, within a month I saw the difference it made for my family and business, and I was so glad to be back into my "normal" routine. Lesson learned: the grass is always greener, but it grows best at home.

This past year was another type of sabbatical. I opened up my blog to the public and instantly discovered a world of fantastic people who have so much to offer. I was writing more, starting to take more pictures, and connecting with people who shared their daily lives, teaching me that many of us share the same lives, just in different places. This was very cool. But somewhere along the line, it became more about them than me. I would post a story because I saw my stat numbers falling and knew I needed a new story to keep interest. Or even worse, I have tons of stories waiting to post, but don't because I don't want to inundate the pool. Another example is that I would choose a picture to post because I thought the group would prefer it over the one that made me laugh but was of lesser quality. And then there's the feedback. Sometimes it was there, more often it was not, and although many would tell me in person how much they enjoyed my story/picture, they could not commit those sentiments in a comment box. This would really diminish the whole process for me, making it seem like a waste of time.

But was it? I have seen with the photography project, for instance, that I really have improved. Taking a picture a day really does improve one's skills and trains the eye. I can imagine that writing each day would do the same (which was my original goal). The feedback really does help, but not when it becomes the ends to justify the means. When did I become such a conformist?

Wishing time is over ~ it's time for action...

So, here's what I have decided. I cannot just walk away from the internet world. It intrigues me too much. But I can ~ and will ~ limit my time. Think quality vs. quantity. And who is to judge whether it is quality? Well that would be me. I have already adjusted the settings on 110 Penned so that one cannot make a comment. If you have one, send me an e-mail. If that's too much trouble, then don't. It's okay, really. I have turned off all of my stat counters. A tough one is my photography group. I really do learn a lot from it, but I am going to have to find a way to limit my time there, or break it into little parts with better scheduled time. My trusty hour glass should help with this. I have also decided that for awhile I am going to combine my picture a day project with my blog. I basically miniblog at BC365 anyway, so I will just use those pictures and words to keep me posting at 110 Penned. If a story grows, so be it. That's what this blog is here for. I am also going to get back in touch with my inner self that enjoys poetry. I miss writing lines of prose. Why did I stop that? Combined with photos, that should be a great release for me. Getting back to the basics, feeding the foundations. If none of this works, then my two drastic fall back decisions are (1) to close the blog to the public once again so that I can just write for the sake of writing and go ahead and let it be a journal and (2) drop out of BC365 but still post a picture a day to fulfill my goal of a picture a day in 2010. Facebook and Twitter? Well, they can wait...

Compromise. A treaty between the two worlds where I hope I can find the best of them both...

Peace...

Earth Day Birthday

2010-04-21T10:55:00.006-04:00

Will be back soon to write more about this, but for now, just wanted to post this "birthday card" I made for our daughter who is celebrating her 20th birthday today. 20 years ago she was everything I ever hoped for, everything that I ever dreamed of. 20 years later she is still everything I ever hoped for, everything I ever dreamed of...

Who Knew?

2010-04-15T13:07:00.020-04:00

Spring has sprung and there's much to be done. The spring sports schedule is in full swing which means concession stand dinners and life on pause from late afternoon until the sun goes down. During the day, trying to ignore the glorious weather spilling through my windows and the sounds and smells of lawn mowers, tying myself down in a separate part of the house to finish up a pile of To Dos that are now multiplying on their own into mini stacks of Must Be Dones. My saving grace is that at the end of the day I look forward to time with my iPad. I am now juggling three books, all classics and well thumbed editions which sit upon my real shelves, but reading them again ala iBooks has really been a pleasure. I especially like that I can read them in bed and not have to have the lights on. But the other true love (read distraction) has been the ArtStudio app. I have been dabbling with making images without a photograph as a guide. It really is like finger painting with water colors and oils, and I find it to be so relaxing.

Many, many moons ago, when I was in high school, I had to drop a calculus class because I shared the period with my band class. I was the drum major for our marching band, and I just could not keep up with both. Once we got past my father's disappointment, I chose some classes that would fill the spot, but would allow me to explore some other classes far from the world of academia (something I never got to do with my stringent you-can-only-take-these-classes-if-you-are-going-to-college schedule). I signed up for typing, cooking and graphic arts. Once we got past Dad's fears that I was going to become "just" a secretary who can cook for her brood while barefoot and pregnant concerns, I found a sense of freedom that I had never felt before.

The typing class, taught by a gentleman with a strong Alabama twang (I can still hear him calling out "ay, ay, ay, bay, bay, bay, say, say, say" for the beginning of our alphabets), ended up being a godsend since just two years later I was working nonstop on computers and needing my keyboard skills. Who knew then that I would then make a career out of working with computers?

The cooking class was a hoot and I got to meet people in my class that I never knew before (the college bound kids in our school were a minority and from day one we shared every class together, exclusively). To this day, whenever I slide a knife across a measuring cup to dole out dry ingredients or when I let my butter stand at room temperature instead of nuking it for a few seconds (having learned I would be changing the chemistry and emulsion properties of the best ingredient ever), I think of that time well spent in the room with six ovens, messy tables and lots of laughs. Again, who knew that I would have a family of five children where meals are the highlight of the day?

Then, my favorite: the Graphics 101 class. I have never been, never will be an artist, at least in the traditional sense of what I believe an artist is. It is just not meant to be. There is something in my physical and chemical being that does not allow what I see to be reproduced by my hands. I think I have a good eye, but when I try to put it on paper (or in clay, or on a canvas), the message is clearly distorted. Which is one of the reasons I absolutely adore computers. They have become my hands. My love for calligraphy has been augmented by being able to play around with fonts. I can discern the use of good white space, and being able to move things around a page, trying different perspectives, undoing with a simple command-Z, has been amazing. With photography, I can crop and process, knowing, again, what should be there but somehow was not originally captured. The computer ~ always a Mac for me, since day one ~ has completed me. Who knew that one class would follow me the rest of my life, adding to my skills at work, but more importantly, feeding my soul and addressing my inner desires?

Years ago, I loved working with PhotoShop because it allowed me to convert the image I saw and reproduced through photography into the medium that I saw with my mind's eye. A sunset in oils, a tree in pencil, a baby in charcoal, a shadow in bas relief. Indeed, I felt emancipated from what was to what could be. Until the iPad, I only had a graphics tablet to use which would allow me to draw and paint. It never really caught on for me, and now I realize that it was because I had a tool in my hand, the stylus. With the iPad, I am using my fingers, and only my fingers. Combine that with great abilities to grab colors, combine different tools for different textures with just a click, and, yes, that great Undo command, and I am able to express myself as never before possible.

And, so here, without further ado and musing, is what I have been doing (in addition to all of the rest of my crazy day). I admit that the subject matter and composition is rather elementary, but it doesn't matter to me. If I was able to create these images in just a matter of minutes, without any clean up, then I believe there is much room to grow. And knowing now that what seemed simple, maybe even meaningless, over 25 years ago was instead so important to my every day life today, maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of something that in my old age, I will be able to look back at and say 'that's when it all began..." Who knows?

iCreate

2010-04-12T10:57:00.007-04:00

A quick update on my iPad experience.

I discovered ArtStudio for the iPad over the weekend, and my love grows deeper.

I took this photograph...

...and made this piece of art!

The photograph was originally taken in 2004 by my then 8-year old son, Benjamin. I was consoling his younger brother and Ben decided it made a good shot. Totally candid. Totally what being a mom means to me. A moment caught in time to last a lifetime. Six years later and it is still one of my favorites!

Processing this in ArtStudio was easy and fun. I imported the photo from my gallery and then began to finger paint, the colors and textures blending with my touch. This was not just a simple conversion created by the application. It was me, moving my fingers on the iPad, painting. I could do this on my desktop or laptop computer if I used a graphics tablet, but I would have to use a stylus. With the iPad, it was my hand doing the work. There would be no way I could do it on my iPod Touch ~ you need the room for detail.

So there you go: one more thing to love about the iPad. An application that works best with the tool for which it was created. My list of unique abilities now includes ArtStudio and iBooks and the way that many online companies have formatted their websites to work with the iPad (Pandora, BBC, USAToday, NYTimes -Editors Choice, and Netflix just to name a few). I look forward to finding (and sharing) more...

Strep: Step by Step

2010-04-09T08:48:00.040-04:00

First sign of spring

or first sign of what my throat

was going to feel like within a couple of hours?

It was a beautiful Easter holiday weekend. The weather was amazing, our schedules were not too crazy, and spring had finally sprung. The words of Henry van Dyke rang true: "The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month."

With so many blessings, there was bound to be balance. Mine came in the form of strep throat, although I fought to deny it with both mind and body. It was only a matter of time before the bug won...

:: Thursday: We traveled out of town for work. We were on the road longer than we were at the client site. I started to get a terrible headache, rising up from the back of my neck and along the tops of my shoulders. Stops for cannolis and gelato on the way home brightened my sprits a bit and even had me thinking that I had enjoyed a nice virtual tour of Italy along the way (the delusions had already begun!). When we crossed our county line, I decided to take the back roads the rest of the way home, breathing in one more moment of bliss before confronting the hustle and bustle of a busy family.

A view of an apartment house

that sang a song of Italy.

The shadows from a nearby tree "painted" ivy

on the painted brick walls and wrought iron steps.

Taking the long way home.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon

and worthy of slowing down for a bit.

:: Friday: Good Friday and Zachariah's 12th birthday (he appreciated the day off of school as one of his gifts!). We had a lot to do, including baking for a cookie contest at Easter Sunday celebration and running errands in town. In my usual fashion, I decided to make a cookie that was rather involved: fortune cookies. I spent a couple of hours in the morning making up the fortunes, but by the time it came to bake, I was burnt. Instead I watched daughter Elly, son Nick and his friend, Mikayla, make up a batch of Zucchini Lemon Drop cookies. We then went into town, taking two cars because there was just too many things to get done in so little time. Dragged myself around Sams Club before meeting everyone else for dinner at favorite steak and salad bar restaurant. By now my head was killing me. The area behind my ears was throbbing and I had no appetite. We ate, sang happy birthday, made good wishes and then wrapped up my dinner to go home. It was great being with the whole family, but I was ready for bed...

Zucchini Lemon Drop cookies. Yum!

My plans for fortune cookies

had to be put on hold.

Confucious says: Take two aspirin and go to bed!

The first of many candles and wishes.

Although I wished for a wonderful

year and life for my son,

I also yearned to feel just a little better...

:: Saturday a.m.: I woke up with a fuzzy throat. Plans to do fortune cookies once again dissolved into oblivion so instead I focused on prepping dinner for Zach's Birthday Party Part II (birthdays last about a week here). Even then I punted a bit, throwing frozen pulled pork bbq into the roaster and going to the local grocery store deli for prepared sides. Even went with dips and chips and cheese and crackers for my contribution to the next day's potluck Easter celebration, instead of making a homemade side to enjoy. Found myself pleased that I could muster enough energy to cross items off the To Do list, even if it all was second rate.

:: Early Saturday evening: A rocky boulder settled into left side of my throat. Was trying to have fun with company, but I could feel myself slipping. I just wanted to crawl onto the couch. Seeing the kids run and play and laughing at each other helped a bit, but that nagging little voice inside my head (who was also still pounding on the back of my ears) was starting scream the S word. It was only a matter of time, but I knew that I had strep throat. On a holiday weekend when I could find no relief...

Happy Birthday, Zachariah!

:: Saturday night: Fever settled into every joint and muscle. I took a couple of ibuprofens, tried to enjoy a couple of the NCAA Final Four games, but snuggled achingly into a blanket on the couch and called it a night.

:: Easter Sunday: Not much better but dragged myself to friend's farm to watch traditional Egg Hunt and to have awesome afternoon potluck dinner. Half way into my plate requested to go home that instant. Went home and slept under the influence of ibuprofen with sounds of spring streaming through my bedroom window.

Annual Easter Egg Hunt

at Patchwork Farms

with family and friends.

The Cookies Cr-r-r-rumble Contest.

Why, oh, why on a day that I could

not swallow and had no appetite!

: Monday a.m.: The right side of throat joined the left side and I could hardly breathe no less swallow while they partied. Waited on hold for 20 minutes with Beatles muzak playing into my muffled ears, but finally got 9:45 appointment with doctor.

: 9:55 a.m. Doctors waiting room where my husband (who had to drive me because I could not drive myself) nicely explained that, yes, we were 10 minutes late due to road construction, but that did not warrant canceling my appointment. We would gladly wait, but we were not leaving until I was seen.

:: Sometime later, but not too bad of a wait considering they were going to show us who was boss: Sitting in exam room where I could have simply breathed on those mile long q-tips but nurse thought it was more fun to gag me.

:: 5 minutes later: Confirmed. Full blown strep.

:: Within an hour later: Had penicillin and the most amazing-life-saving-lemon-berry-smoothie in my system and went to bed.

:: The next 10 hours: Slept on and off in front of an open window where warm breezes soothed my soul and fed my fever induced dreams. That part was almost as amazing as the smoothie. It was an absolutely gorgeous day outside. The birds were singing, the puffy white clouds floated beautifully across the deep azure sky, kids were laughing, someone was grilling. The day just slipped on by...

Every time I would wake up,

this beautiful view was in sight

through my screened windows.

Even though I was feeling lousy,

knew I had to get my picture of the day.

All of these wonderful signs of spring

were in my front yard waiting to greet me.

:: 10:30 p.m. went downstairs to catch the last minutes of the NCAA championship basketball game. It was an exciting close game, but all I could see were dirty dishes and candy wrappers all over the house. Should have gone right back to bed, but stayed up and did two loads of dishes, filled a trash can with Easter debris, and then finally got back to sleep.

:: The rest of the week: Tried my best to rest the next couple of days, but could not afford for the house to fall down around me, and I had work to do. Recovery was slow.

:: Yesterday: The first day I could swallow without pain and almost made it fever free.

:: Today, one week, one day later. I think today is going to be a much better day. Just finished my morning snack accompanied by a side of my new best friend White Pill Penicillin. Colder weather and rain have settled in for the weekend, which has an extremely full calendar for everyone in the family.

Perhaps there will be another first day of spring for me to enjoy soon ~ there's still a couple of weeks before the first month is gone.

Wonder if geese get strep throat?

That would really hurt!

iComplete: The World Is at My Fingertips...

2010-04-07T10:01:00.011-04:00

MacBook Pro, iPad and iPod Touch.

They complete me...

Our iPads arrived this past weekend, weeks in advance of original estimated ship date. His and Hers. A very nice surprise. I am now convinced that the Easter bunny wears a brown uniform and drives a UPS truck. And, yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, too. His real name is Steve Jobs.

We went with the entry level 16GB sans 3G, knowing full well that a bigger, better model will come out soon enough (and then we will pass these down to the kids). We have Verizon MiFi, so no need for the 3G (and our MiFi supports up to 5 users. Yes, with a big family that is constantly on the go but always connected, we use do use that feature).

I am 5 days into the honeymoon and I am thinking it is true love and not just lust. It is just like a bigger iPod Touch, but I love that. I am an avid reader and having the bigger screen is fantastic. Viewing photos and videos is a dream ~ the colors are vivid, crisp and clear. (Having it for that alone is nearly worth the price ~ how much did you pay for the that digital photo frame?) Games and graphic novels are amazing, but it is not just an iToy. The onscreen keyboard is also greatly improved by the bigger size, making it much easier to hit just one key and within one day I found I was two hand typing. Some of the apps, like Mail, are greatly improved, allowing the user to see a list of the incoming mail in one box with a full version of the message in the background. Going back and forth in between apps is snappy and easy, and when I leave one app, it is where I left it when I return (much like going from one window or tab to another on my computer). The battery life also exceeded expectations (has lasted up to 12 hours continuous use) and recharges quickly with electric adapter.

To be fair, there are a couple of things that are taking time to get used to. The size, again. It is not as convenient to carry around as my iPod Touch (but much easier than my MacBook), and I'm afraid I will drop it. (I have a padfolio cover on order which should help.) While I am learning to type on the iPad, it requires a new kind of typing. The iPad is too big for thumb texting and too small for full keyboard experience. Charging the iPad from my MBP took a long time and stopped whenever my MPB went to sleep. When I "work," I am still using my MacBook Pro. Using a full keyboard and having full access to all of my apps probably being the biggest reasons. Working with my fingers on the iPad's smooth screen makes me want to do more with stuff, like make notes, cut images, and copy text, capabilities that don't exist (yet), but the technology has me thinking different and wanting more. I don't miss it not having a camera to take pictures ~ it would be awkward with the size of this device (but would LOVE it on my iPod Touch); but a camera for video conferencing would be a great improvement.

I read the other day that the iPad is a great for consuming content but not for creating it. At first glance I would have to agree with this. But I believe that is because of the lack of software and not the hardware. I am sure there are many developers out there right now tap, tap, tapping away to please me. Apple does not just create great products, it forces the rest of the industry to innovate, as well. If, for instance, Apple did not support Flash, I believe is was not because it wanted to ignore what the masses use. Apple is sending a message that change is necessary. When Apple rolled out the original iMac in 1998, it did not have a floppy disk drive. You should have heard the moans and groans, along with the whispers that Steve Jobs had definitely "lost" it. It didn't take long for diskettes to become obsolete and soon Jobs was once again a genius. Yeah, I like crazy...

I work with computers everyday, supporting users and running my own business. One of the markets I work with and think will best be served by the iPad is education (all levels). Within minutes of using the iPad, I could see it replacing heavy and outdated text books. No more 35 pound backpacks and costly one-dimensional books. At half the price of a MacBook, you can serve twice as many students. Reading on an iPad is revolutionary. You hold it just like a book, turn pages, etc. But you can also look up words instantly in a dictionary, adjust text size, have a built in light, zoom in on illustrations and graphics, and instant bookmarks to allow you to easily find your spot again and again. If this was the iPad's only app I would be thrilled. But, of course, it's not. I literally have the world at my fingertips...

I can also see the iPad greatly improving professional industries such as medicine, insurance, human services ~ any industry that requires keeping records. And, for any salesperson it will be a must have. Imagine a real estate agent, for instance, with an iPad in hand, showing beautiful pictures of houses, instantly bringing up maps showing the neighborhood, and then having the contract right there ready to sign. No clunky computer in the way, just a beautiful glass screen projecting dreams into reality...

It will be interesting to watch the evolution of the iPad, as it has been with any Apple product. Sure, other companies will come out with similar products, but Apple will always be the one to which they compare. I know Mr. Jobs and company are already working on the next best thing that I will surely want, nay need, but for now iComplete....

One of my sons "evaluating" the iPad.

He was scrolling and zooming through images

as quick as his little hands could go!

Sing a Song of Spring

2010-03-30T08:04:00.011-04:00

Winter's done,

and April's in the skies.

Earth, look up

with laughter in your eyes!

(CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, 1860 - 1943)

Seeing Is Believing

2010-03-26T00:24:00.003-04:00