The Yearly Vacation

It's that time again - the yearly vacation. Time to pack, plan the route, service the car..... We never sleep well the night before we leave so we usually get up in the wee morning hours and take off on another big adventure.

This year we're headed to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We've been to western South Dakota to Mt. Rushmore and the Badlands (in the days before GPS and we got lost) but we've never been to eastern South Dakota. JC's sister, LaVerna and husband Howard, recently relocated there so I figured we should go check out this area.

This was my year to pick where we vacation. This is the situation; I love the cold climates and JC loves the hot, sunny areas. To make things fair we alternate years. Last year we went to Amelia Island, Florida. The Gulf Oil spill had messed up his favorite Alabama beach so we headed to the Atlantic side of Florida. JC, the beach bum, was in heaven while I however was not. I like the beach but I don't like the sand that accumulates in everything, carting the big beach umbrella (with UV protection), the chairs, towels, cooler, etc. to the beach, watching for jelly fish and SHARKS! But, I can't complain - it was his year to pick.

Our first real vacation was to Wyoming to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. It was the first week of June and when we got there it had snowed heavily, some places got 3 feet. JC shivered and shook and was miserable for much of that trip. He loved the gorgeous scenery and the wildlife, but not the cold temps. But that trip was nothing compared to the summer we went to Alaska. This was a self guided tour that took us to the Bering Sea, the Arctic Ocean then back down to Denali. It sleeted and snowed (in mid July) while we were at the Arctic and a cold rain fell for much of the trip to Denali and Anchorage. Then another summer I dragged him to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where the temps dropped to the 40s and we had to buy sweatshirts and the mosquitoes had just hatched out so we had to buy insect repellent. There was a big fireplace in the lodge and JC huddled next to the fire while I happily checked out the scenery and took pictures.

So here we are again heading north but luckily for JC the heat wave has hit South Dakota so I doubt we will be buying sweatshirts. The thrill of the pre-Sturgis rally and has him all excited and he hasn't complained much about trip.

Next year I'm sure we will be headed south - I've already seen him on the internet checking out beach cottages on Dauphin Island. He is visualizing long, sunny days and I can feel the sand in the sheets already.

W.W.R.C.D.?

What would Rachel Carson Do? I can’t say for sure but I think she would speak out on this matter.

One July 27, 2011 the Arkansas Oil and Gas Commission voted to shut down injection wells in the areas of Arkansas that are prone to earthquakes. After reading the announcement I did the “happy dance” in my living room. I had been anxiously awaiting the ruling and hoped it would go this way. Why do I care? I don’t live in Faulkner, White or Cleburne county. I don’t even live in Arkansas. I care because I’m a native Arkansan and love my home state. I care because I am concerned about the environment and what gas drilling is doing to Arkansas.

To understand all this you need to know about the Fayetteville Shale. It’s a layer of shale that holds natural gas deposits, not flowing reservoirs, but drops of gas locked in this fine grained shale. The Fayetteville Shale is a strip that stretches from near Fort Smith to around Little Rock. It is ranges from 50 to 550 feet in thickness is found anywhere from 1500 feet to 6500 feet deep. It formed during the Mississippian age as dead plants and animals became compacted. It has long been known about the gas deposits but there wasn’t a practical way to extract the gas. It wasn’t until the development of hydraulic fracturing that the removal of the shale gas deposits became feasible. Hydraulic fracturing, also known as hydrofracking or fracking, is performed by drilling a well vertically first then a horizontal well is drilled into the lower portion of the shale. Then, high pressure fracking liquids are injected to fracture the shale and extract the gas. Fracking chemicals are also used in the drilling process to reduce friction. There are over 500 chemicals in fracking fluids and by the passage of the 2005 Bush/Cheney Energy Bill (Halliburton Loophole) of the Safe Drinking Water Act, these chemicals didn’t have to be released to the public. Recently that law was modified and all but 62 chemicals must be release to the public. These 62 are considered trade secrets. That sends a big red flag up for me. We’re not making a secret recipe food here.

There are 10 gallons of waste water produced for each gallon of gas produced. A single frack can use between 1 and 8 million gallons of water and a well can be fracked up to 18 times. Not all this waste water comes back up. Around 20 percent of the chemical laden fracking water stays in the ground. The remaining water is put into storage ponds that are “supposed” to be lined to prevent leakage into the ground water. A second well, called an injection well, is drilled down below the area where the source of drinking water is located and above the fracking area. This waste water is pressure injected back into the ground for disposal. These injection wells are believed to have been the cause of the recent earthquakes in and around Faulkner County.

But earthquakes, serious as they are, are not the only issue at hand here. The fracking fluids are “allegedly” contaminating drinking water wells, creeks, and other bodies of water. Residents have reported water that is discolored (I’ve seen it), and has a foul smell. There are creeks in the Booneville, AR area that have visible petroleum residues and reddish substances in them. Tar looking water flows from some of the drinking wells in that part of the state. Other than water contamination and scarring of the land, is air quality. While waiting to inject waste water the water is placed in holding ponds and tanks and left to evaporate, releasing the chemicals into the air. A buildup of ozone is the result. Yes, we need the ozone layer, but we don’t need ozone in the Troposphere. It causes and exacerbates respiratory problems. We now have ozone alerts occasionally in central Arkansas.

I could go on and on but I think you get the idea. While I’m happy about the ruling, there are still problems. With this ruling the waste water will be trucked to other parts of the state that are not earthquake prone or to other states. While we may be moving it from one “backyard”, it will be going to someone else’s. Then there is the wear and tear on our roads as the trucks move millions of gallons of water to the new disposal sites.

What’s the solution? I don’t know. Like everyone else, I live a lifestyle that is made possible by the use of petroleum products. If we could find a way to extract the gas deposits (we could drill for the next 60 years before all the Fayetteville Shale deposits are exhausted) and not contaminate, it would be wonderful. Also, in the defense of the gas wells – is that their income is supposed to keep Arkansas recession proof. As of a few weeks ago (I haven’t checked lately), Arkansas was 6^th in the nation for the amount of surplus funds.

I hope an answer comes in the near future. I’m just one person who never intended to become an environmental activist. I will never be a Rachel Carson. I think that if I do nothing else, I can increase awareness of this issue. Look around you. Do you enjoy your clean air, good water and beautiful landscape? If you do, do your part to make sure it stays that way. If you get a chance, drive through a drilling area and look around. What you see will shock you and make you feel violated. Look at the creeks in central Arkansas and then imagine them as Crooked Creek, Mill Creek, Water Creek, Clabber Creek or Blue John. Not a good image. Think about all the times that you went to play in the creek in the hot summer or went to get crawdads or minnows to go fishing. Think how, we as kids, lay down on our bellies and drank out of the creek, never worrying about anything more than a cow upstream.

I've never wanted to be a trouble maker, whistle blower, or even do anything to call attention to myself - but the gas drilling in Arkansas has made me change how I look at life. I hope you will take the time to increase your awareness of what is going on here.

Conversations With Lily

I just spent the last five days in McKinney, Texas visiting with my daughter, Misty's, family. Drew is 12 and still had school, Lily is 5, and Reid is 3. Lily is just beginning to ask a lot of questions and she and I spent a lot of time together, even sharing her bedroom, so she had the opportunity to ask me a lot of "stuff."
First question was "Nana, where is Papa?"
Nana: "He had to work and couldn't come."
Lily: "Oh. That makes me sad. Let's call him." So we did. Next Lily moved on to a lot more questions.
Lily: "Nana. Do flies have Mommies?"
Nana: "Yes Lily they do."
Lily: "Which ones are the Mommies?"
Nana: "I don't know Lily. They all look alike to me."
Lily: "How do the baby flies know which ones are their Mommies?"
Nana: "They just do Lily." (cop out answer)
Lily: "Do those birds have babies?"
Nana: "I imagine they do."
Lily: "Where do their babies live?"
Nana: "In a nest up in a tree?"
Lily: "Why can't I see them?"
Nana" "Because the Mommy bird hides her nest so nothing gets the baby birds."
Lily: "If they want to hide why do they go chirp chirp tweet tweet?" (hmm good question)
I avoided that last question but Lily moved on.
Lily: "How many legs do spiders have?"
Nana: "Eight." (I'm feeling confident now)
Lily: "Nana, how does Hello Kitty eat her apples if she doesn't have a mouth?"
Nana: "Lily, Hello Kitty is just pretend so we will just pretend she eats her apples."
Lily: "Oh OK."
Lily's list of questions went on and on and I tried to answer her 5 yearold's questions as best I could. I know that some day Lily may not ask me childlike questions any more. It will make me sad when she grows up so I cherish the time I spent with her this past week.

Decoration Day

Next Monday is Decoration Day at the Ott Cemetery. I will be in Texas visiting my kids and grandkids so I will be going out to decorate graves next weekend. I bought flowers today.

Back when I was a kid, Decoration Day(s) was a big event. We have family at the Ott, Cowan, Pleasant Ridge, Fairvew and Flippin Cemeteries (and a few more). But the Decoration Day that I most remember is the one held at the Ott cemetery. We all got new clothes because people dressed up for Decoration back then. My Granny Ott often wore a hat.

Lots of people came to the Ott Decoration. I would see cousins that I didn't see very often. Like us, they would all be dressed up. It's always windy at the Ott. Even on the hottest day a breeze will be blowing there. After cleaning and decorating graves we would have "dinner on the ground." Everyone would bring food and come down to our house and we would eat.

It's an old cemetery with several graves. There are 5 generations of my family buried there. Not just Otts - my Granny's Bundy family is buried there too. My Granny had a sister named Mahlia Melvina who died at a young age. I used to wish my name was Mahlia and I would wonder what she looked like. Iwould look at the graves of my Ott great-great grandparents, John and Sarah, and wonder about them. They were the first Otts to live here and homestead the farm. There's been much discussion over the years about Sarah. She is a mystery to us.

There are several other graves that I used to really wonder about. A young Kaler girl, who's family put stones around her grave so it wouldn't be lost. And the many baby graves used to worry me. Now I think of those who have been put there in my lifetime...my Daddy, Granny, Aunt Opal and favorite cousin, Earlene, my nephews, David and Ronny.

Decoration Day isn't what it used to be. It's becoming a dying custom. Now people just come and go as they wish to decorate and some cemeteries don't allow deocrating at all. The headstones must be flat and only a small vase for flowers is allowed. That seems very sad too me. I hope that never happens at the Ott cemetery. It's a beautiful place and anyone is welcome there to visit or to be buried there. We're still "country" enough to hold to old fashioned Decoration Day.

Branching Out

Last night I had the honor of speaking to the Flippin Graduating Class of 2011. I taught these students when they were in the 7th and 8th grade. Every few years in a teacher's career a bond will be forged between a class and teacher. There was an immediate bond between this class and me. Some of my fondest memories as an educator have come from the time that I spent with these students.

They had asked me to speak at their graduation back when they were sophomores and I honestly figured that they would forget about me since I no longer taught at Flippin. Back in October I got a call from the senior class sponsor and she told me that I had been voted as their commencement speaker. I didn't take this responsibility lightly - in fact I saw it as one of the biggest challenges that I have faced as an educator. I wanted to make sure that I got it right.

As teachers, we sometimes forget that everything that we say and do is making an impact on students. I try to stay conscious of what I say and the tone with which I say it. Every day I tell myself to remember to guard my tongue and my actions. I never realized how much of what I had said and done was being "absorbed" by those middle school kids. As I sat down to put on paper what I wanted to say, a flood of emotions ran through my head. This was a large class, by Flippin standards, but I could tell you something about each one of those kids. I wanted to be able to write a speech that made each of them feel that I had written it just for them. I hope I was able to do that.

This morning those kids are alumni. No more will they walk the halls of Flippin School as students. That safety net that comes from being part of a group is weakened now. That feeling of belonging and being in a safe, familiar place is altered now. They will all go their separate ways and develop into their own unique individual adult personalities. They will come together again for reunions, but it will never be the same.

I hope the things that I chose to say will help them a little along their journey. I want the best for each of them. I wish they would never stumble or feel inadequate but I know that they will.

The them for my speech was the same as the title of my blog spot; "Don't Be Afraid to Climb on the Skinny Branches." I hope that they climb as high on the tree of opportunity as they can. And I hope they enjoy the view from atop those skinny branches.

"Mom, You're addicted to exercise."

I just read a friend's blog about her exercise routine and as I was writing comments on her blog I began to think about my past 34 years as a regular exerciser.

How do I know it's been 34 years? That's how old Ryan is. I was skinny when I got pregnant with Ryan. I weighed in at 118 the day I found out I was pregnant (I'm 5'7") and I got down to 105 for a time after he was born (I was anemic), but after I got well I gained back up to my normal weight. Though I was still on the low side of the height/weight chart I looked flabby around the middle and my thighs jiggled. I had never really had a formal exercise routine so I didn't know where to start. Enter my sister-in-law (now ex - but that's another story). She was a jogger. I had never known anyone who jogged and I was a bit curious so I took her up on her offer to jog with her. What an eye-opener! I barely made it to the end of the block and I was only 21 years old! I kept on trying and added a few calisthenics that I remembered from high school PE and pretty soon I was hooked. I graduated to fitness tapes - not made for the tv, back in the 70s - but the cassette tapes that you listened to and used a paper that came with them to figure out how to perform the moves. Then came Body Electric on PBS. I still work out with Margaret to this day. Every weekday morning at 6 am I workout to her show. Other tv shows were "The 20 Minute Workout" (which I hated), and "It Figures" with Charlene Prickett. I became a fitness addict. My kids hated my early morning jumping around and told me to seek help for my addiction. LOL

I guess I am still an addict. I own so many fitness tapes and dvds that they fill an entire cabinet. I have running shoes, cross trainers, and dance shoes. I own weights of all sizes, stretch bands, fitness balls, kettle bells, and the list goes on. I've spent years being lean and muscled but now menopause has taken it's wrath on my body and I have to work even harder to just look "OK." I no longer weigh what I wish I did and I have to restrict my eating. I've learned to embrace the 130's and sometimes the 140's (when I don't restrict my eating). I've come to accept that you can't change some things and I try to focus on my health more so than my shape. A couple of years ago I had gone to the mobile mammography unit and this young nurse put my foot in the bone density machine. She looked kind of baffled and went to get an older nurse. She checked me, then asked me if I did weight bearing exercise. I replied that I did almost daily. She told the young nurse that the machine was working fine. I had registered with a bone density of a 24 year-old.

I worry about the youth of today. I look around my classroom and I see over-fat kids all the time. They have flabby bellies and fat arms and the worst of it is that they complain about getting Ds and Fs in PE. When I ask why, they tell me that they refuse to dress out and participate in the class! Each quarter they have to run one mile (only once). I see them crying, acting like they are going to pass out, calling their parents because they are light headed and on and on. I tell them that I can run a mile backwards! And I'm old! That will shame some of them but not all. Their lifestyle today is very different from pubescent kids' lifestyles 25 years ago. They play video games, watch tv, and talk on their cellphones. They eat junk and drink gallons of sugared drinks. You don't see these kids out riding bikes or playing ball.

I'm not saying that you have to devote your life to fitness. I know that I go to the extreme, but I do think exercise helps the quality of life. I love to hike, work outside, and just keep up with my students and grandkids. If I wasn't fit I couldn't do those things. Will I let up anytime soon? I doubt it. It's a part of who I am and a part of my daily routine.

I'm not trying to scold those who don't workout. Everyone has the right to live their own life without judgment. This is just the way that I choose to live mine. I may not live as long as some who have never been physically fit. We can't know our future but I can work hard to prevent high blood pressure and keep my heart and bones strong. To me that's worth the effort.

Growing Up Country

I have come to realize that I am the epitome of the saying "You can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl." And the truth is - I like being a country girl. I copied and pasted the recent facebook post about being from the south but I think there is a distinction between a southern belle and a country girl from the south. Country girls get dirty, southern belles try not to. I love being outside, be it working in the garden, flower beds or hiking. This involves getting dirty, so I must fall into the country girl category.

There's also some confusion about country people and hill people. I think hill people are those that lived a subsistence life. They owned a little spot of land and hunted to provide meat and maybe grew a little garden. Country folks, by my definition, owned several acres, farmed the land, raised cattle, hogs, chickens, maybe ran a dairy farm and raised crops, as well as a big garden.

I grew up on a working farm (heavy on the working). My Daddy milked cows when I was little but government restrictions tightened up and he later got out of the dairy business and raised beef cattle. We also raised hogs and chickens, grew hay and made a garden, picked blackberries, huckleberries, canned and preserved any fruits and vegetables that we could. One of my memories is the day that the baby chicks would arrive on the "mail car." They would come in a box and I couldn't wait to pet them. I thought they were so cute. We would take them out to the chicken pen and put food and water in old tires cut in half. Sure enough some would fall in the water and drown. Later when they got bigger, they became "fryers." So much for the cute little chicks. We always had hogs and it seemed like an old sow would wait until the coldest day of winter to have her pigs. Daddy and Mom would have to go to the hog pen and check on things all night. Sometimes one would be frozen and Judith thought it was great fun to wrap the pig in a blanket and rock it. We learned the facts of life living on the farm. You can't hide that stuff. We knew how calves and pigs came about. We helped in the garden, picking up rocks, pulling weeds, picking off bugs - whatever needed to be done.

Our Granny churned butter in a jar. She would rock it back and forth until it made butter. Judith and I tried our luck at it but I'm not sure we ever made butter. When it was done we would spread it on a biscuit and sprinkle it with sugar. We thought it was good eatin'. We also learned to cook at a pretty early age just by helping out in the kitchen. We didn't know anything about cooking "fancy" food but we could put a country meal on the table.

If you grew up country you know about wilted lettuce, radishes, and onions. You would melt bacon grease and pour it over the salad. I miss that sometimes. I always thought you should have pinto beans with wilted lettuce, and of course cornbread (without sugar). The older folks ate milk with cornbread crumbled up in it. I never really like that.

Mom and Granny sewed our clothes. We would go to "Zula's" and get patterns and material and they would make most of our clothes. Mom ordered us shoes and underwear from Aldens, Sears, and Montgomery Wards. There weren't any trips to the mall back then. We had pageant dresses and prom dresses and even our wedding dresses handstitched from home. Our Granny had an old treadle machine and Mom had an electric one. There wasn't a week that went by that one or both those machines weren't busy making something.

Looking back it seems that being country was a hard life but never once did I go to bed hungry. We had lots of food and I never worried that we wouldn't have food. I always had lots of clothes, a warm coat and shoes, pajamas, and warm quilts on my bed.

I remember at about junior high age thinking we were poor because we lived in the country on a farm. My friends and family who lived in town seemed to me to have a much better life - they even had dishwashers and I was so envious of that. I got my eyes opened real wide though, on a school trip. I won't tell the story here but suffice it to say, when I got home from that trip, I realized that we weren't poor at all. My parents just chose to live a country life and raise country kids.

I'm thankful that I know how to cook, can, preserve, raise a garden and sew (not very well). I know that if desperate times called for it, I could make do with whatever I have and survive. I'm not sure that most folks could do that. JC was also raised country. We live modest life that's within our means. We draw pleasure from the simple things that life has to offer.