Why do I do it?I am happy to report that I have resumed my practice of walking in the mornings.
I've been walking in the mornings for enough weeks now, that it has started to feel habitual again. I get up and head out the door as quickly as I can; I don't eat or drink anything; I don't raise the shades; I don't let the cat out of his room. Often my eyes are still a little blurry and dry, and my legs and back are stiff and clumsy. But I walk. Often I fold my arms because letting them hang and swing feels like too much movement so soon after sleep. What is it that I'm doing on these walks? Clearly it isn't about exercise. I don't take big steps, or pump my arms, or try to raise my heart rate. I see a lot of other people out between the hours of six and seven a.m. and most of them appear to be exercising. The effort of their motion is evident, even if they are in a group chatting as they walk or jog. I feel accepted by them, and we always say "Good Morning" or nod, but I know they are doing something different from me - at least in part.
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SInce I began going to school (Kindergarten in 1981), I have always been in school - one way or another.
From high school and college, through my husband's grad school and then mine, and then our teaching at a college, my life has been shaped by academic semesters: Fall, Spring, and Summer Break, for thirty-three years. We moved into this house in early August of 2009, and in the first weeks of school that year, I remember watching the big hostas in the corner of the back yard bloom. They are in bloom again today. Seeking A Day Without RainOur last weeks in Scotland were characterized by near-freezing temperatures and rain, which often became ice on the sidewalks. We traveled on foot wherever we went, and our enjoyment of walking deteriorated as our tolerance for long hours in the cold and wet diminished. In our final week, we felt that we needed to pack in a little more local travel and sightseeing, but the weather was prohibitive - as were the late sunrise, early sunset, and limited train schedule as Scotland prepared to celebrate Hogmanay (New Year's Eve). On our last Saturday evening, we sat down with a map, BBC Weather (online), and the Scotrail train schedule (online), and tried to plan a trip. Every reasonable destination for a day trip had significant rain predicted for Sunday: Dunkeld, Edinburgh, Stirling, Glasgow, Inverness, Dundee, and St. Andrews (and Perth would be rainy too). I followed the train routes on the map and looked for smaller towns, hoping for a clear forecast and a reasonable train schedule. One destination fit the requirements - Arbroath. Entering its second week...The stand of wine-colored iris in the back yard continue to dazzle. This collection is made possible by a friend's mother who mailed me these plants from Massachusetts four (or five) years ago. With special guests:A Celebration of the Florentine Lily and the White NightNote: I write this post in honor of today's iris - the first to open in my yard. "The Florentine Lily" is an iris that grew wild in Tuscany hundreds of years ago. The iris became the basis of the "Giglio" - the symbol of Florence. It was first seen on flags in 1290. While similar to the fleur-de-lis, the giglio has two stamen in addition to the three upright petals. It also has a rough, root-like area. Here is more info. Second Note: This post is quite long, as was this day. "Crowned One"At some point, when I was a child, I received a bookmark or some small card that explained the meaning of my name:
"Stephanie" is a feminine form of Stephen, and it means "crowned one". I think I was slightly embarrassed by the implied royalty of that definition. I didn't really feel like a princess, but I liked the suggestion that somehow I was identified as having some special value. Who knows whether that suggestion of specialness had some effect on my personality - or how much of an affect. Beyond the implication of being special, I never looked further into what my name might mean. -- Until I was in Italy last year. We've had a week or so of cooler weather and rain. The tulips are just about gone, but the iris are ready to burst.
Flowering GroundcoverIf I can get enough of it to grow, (I need to put in more plants) then my yard might really start shaping up.
I love these plants. I know I'm supposed to write about specific days, but as I look through the calendar of the months in Perth, Scotland, I am somewhat overwhelmed by how things got packed in. Let me give you a run down of 8 very full weeks: Dundee and Perth
Oban
Capuchin Bones, Borghese Trees, and TaxisBecause the program that Brian was teaching through was not simply a full-semester program, but a pairing of two half-semesters (where the students were in London for half and Florence for half), our Florence experience had a sense of repetition. With each group of students there were repeated experiences - introduction and farewell group dinners, special class meetings, and travel. We went to Rome twice with the students, each time for three days. April 28th was our last day on the second of these trips. It was also the last time I was in Rome. After the free breakfast in the hotel, we passed by the cat sanctuary and Palazzo Montecitorio, the home of the Italian Chamber of Deputies (one of the houses of Parliament). Some hours after we passed this location, there was a politically-motivated shooting. While this event did not affect us at all, it raised the tension levels in the city, which we did feel on our later taxi ride to the train station.
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AuthorInterdisciplinary Artist: Archives
March 2015
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