Heating up

The rain that I have waited for came last evening.  A good soaking rain to refresh the vegetation and wet the earth on the dirt road.  A good southern thunderstorm that turned the horizon dark, followed by wind, thunder, lightening, and finally rain.

We had just finished up trimming box woods and working in the garden.  It felt good to get soaked to the skin.  The heat has been oppressive for the past week.  I have begun riding very early in the morning or after sunset in the evening.  And then I only ride for about 45 minutes because we are both soaked by then.

I find the best part of being with my horse is giving him a bath.  He likes to hold the hose in his mouth while I gently put pressure on the nozzle to give him water. He is quite a character, and we get along well.

C. and I went on a tomato picking excursion and came home with three 10 gal buckets filled.  We proceeded to make marinara sauce with large bubbling pots cooking on the stove. It took us all day to process the tomatoes into sauce. We froze the sauce and will no doubt appreciate it this winter.

So many tomatoes and a lot were already rotting on the ground. 

Our picking within 30 minutes

Love that "pales" were $5

Lots of tomatoes to process

I couldn't help but think as we were picking those tomatoes that the ones rotting on the ground would feed a lot of people.  It is a shame to see them go to waste. I wish that farmers would consider having a sale price for picking or maybe a free day so that produce would be used instead of wasted.

I have gone to two meetings with the unity Courage Campaign group that is trying to get people talking to each other who are from different backgrounds. So far, we have just been talking to those of similar attitudes.  I honestly don't see how we are going to get those who have opposing ideas to get together using the lunch format.  So I am going to organize a pot luck dinner out on the island at the Community Center. Hopefully, we will be able to have more thought provoking discussions by stepping out of our comfort zone.

And about talking --- The KKK and the New Black Panthers had a rumble in the state capitol on Saturday.  Several people were injured.  Lots of screaming and hurling of racial epithets. Some columnists say that we are headed for a race war. I certainly hope not, but there is a great deal of unrest.   I did not go to the rally because  I don't think much good would come from standing out in the heat being caught between two groups of people who intensely dislike each other.  Heat and dislike are bad combinations.

I have been jogging again on our country road.  Each way is a mile so I get 2 miles in each evening.  It isn't a great distance at all, but between riding and working out at the gym, I stay in good physical shape.  I enjoy the physical challenge, although Aleve liquid gels have become a daily friend to me.

The road to home.

 Hope that you all are doing well.  Looks like the entire country is in a heat wave. Stay cool.

Sunflower field near our house. 

Catching up

We are still heavily involved with painting and renovating at the house.  The tile is down in the butler's pantry and has been grouted. Next will be installation of the new cabinets, counter tops, back splash and sink. Today, we are painting the dining room. It seems like the first floor is just a big mess, but we know it will come together soon.  At least, it won't be a four month mess like the kitchen renovation was.

We did take a few days to go out on the boat last week and went off the grid with regard to the computer. It felt good to not check email.  I did read a few blogs in Reeder. Other than that, nothing with the iPad other than watching a movie.  The crew was working at the house and the supervisor made sure that everything was going well. It was a good time to get out and away from the confusion while the old tile floor was being torn up.  Too much noise to stick around!

All else is going well.  We have emerged from the summer heat to enjoy the beauty of fall in the Lowcountry. The weather has been cool at night but warm during the day. Even though the outside beckons, we are not going away until the first floor painting and decorating is done. The goal is to finish up all of it in two weeks or less.

On Saturday, we are going to a black tie wedding. It has become quite the event in town.  So we will be dressed to the nines for the evening ceremony and reception.  A tuxedo and formal dress occasion probably means that both of us will be really uncomfortable by the time the ceremony is over.  We are planning to take some more comfortable clothes to wear for the party after the reception.  I am much more comfortable in worn jeans and a sweat shirt, but it might be fun to see how a group of us friends look when we clean up a bit.

The greatest news of the week was that a young man I sponsor just received notice that he and his parents have official visas and are documented residents of the U.S.  He will now be able to get a driver's license, get his bank account, and start applying to colleges.  It has been a long and difficult path to get to this point.  I am incredibly happy that the visa came through.  Muy feliz por ellos.

I'll be wielding a paint brush until I check back in again.  I'll leave you with some photos from the week.

After I left, I still think back

It's a delightfully cool spring day here.  I'm going to meet up with some of my former staff for lunch.  We get together ever so often to talk about the good ole days and find out what's new with each other.  I suspect that they will have a lot to tell me about what is going on at the laboratory.  I haven't been back there in quite a few months.

I have heard from a few people that the halls are nearly deserted, staffing numbers are down, number of grants are down, and more people have retired or are thinking about it.  It was a bustling, exciting place when I started working there. And that excitement continued until about the last 10 years of my employment.  Gradually, the politics and the bureaucracy ate away at many of us. I'm glad that I left when I did because I could tell that my enthusiasm had waned. It was time to leave.

My reservation about going back is that I feel I no longer belonged.  I actually felt like that the last couple of months while I was there.  Everything was moving around me in terms of planning and the future, but my future was to leave.  It was an awkward feeling, almost like I had left already but was physically still present.  My sponsor pointed out that perhaps the people needed to process in their own way that I was going and the best way to do that was to look forward.  Maybe.

But one of the things that I did not previously write about here was a note that was left under my door.  I opened my office one morning a few weeks after I had retired.  I was still going in to work on some last things that I wanted to wrap up.  I had a series of lectures to give and some other writing to do. The plain piece of paper was folded over.  I thought perhaps it was a note from a well-wisher.  But when I opened it,  there was a copy of one of my blog posts and a note with some hateful words typed on it.  I guess that I have blocked those words because I can't remember them exactly.

From that moment on, I no longer wanted to go back there.  I don't know who put the note there.   It doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I felt angry, fearful, sad, distressed--all tumbling together.  Someone knew about my blog and decided to write something nasty to me.

I did not give any thought to abandoning the blog, but I knew that going back into work in my old office was not an option.  I told the Director that any work that I would do, I would do from home.  I haven't regretted that.  I am okay with it all today.  My distance from work there is okay.  I do miss the people I worked with.  And today, I'll get a chance to tell them that again.

I'm glad that I finally wrote this blog post.  It has cleared up some hidden stuff within.  Thanks for reading.  

No Sunday blues on a Monday night

We got back to the marina around noon today.  I washed up the boat, went to a diesel place to get a new fuel pump, and came home to take a 2 hour nap. It doesn't seem like a Monday at all.  I used to get those Sunday evening blues when I knew that Monday was coming.

I wanted the weekend to continue because it was the time that I could get things done that I really enjoyed.  Now, when I look back on my working days, I wonder at how short the time was between Friday evening and Sunday night.  It doesn't seem like enough time to recharge before going back to work.  I'm often amazed at all the multi-tasking I did when I was still working full time.  And I'm still multi-tasking, heaping more things to do on my plate, but I have to say that I am greatly enjoying just about everything that I do now.  

One of the new projects that I am thinking about doing is to photograph those who are down and out in this town.  I was inspired to read what Chris Arnade did in his photo documentation of the Faces of Addiction.  I have talked to a fellow I know who works at the city homeless shelter and am going to write a proposal to do a project in which I photograph those who will agree and write about their story.  I'm not sure where this will be going other than to let the photos and their words tell their own story.  Perhaps it will be possible to do an exhibit at some point.  Right now, this is an idea that I feel compelled to explore.

I have also wanted to document the people of the Lowcountry Sea Islands and tell a bit of their story.  I see this as a vanishing culture in the South.  Development of the islands is happening at a rapid rate, so much so that many of the old ways will likely die out.  Once again, theirs is a story worth telling through photos and words.

In the midst of these ideas, comes an old nemesis:  Am I good enough to do this work?  I'm not professionally trained, but I know that I have a good eye. But is that enough?  There are so many talented photographers here.  Yet, I am going to forge ahead and see what comes of this idea.  I may not be the best, but I have a desire and determination.
 

Deprivation

After a restful weekend on the boat, I am back at the dock. Time to have a little breakfast before scrubbing decks and stowing the dinghy.

Amelia, my old girl's daughter, did great as a boat dog. It took more practice to get her in and out of the dinghy, but we managed. Giving her some treats helped, although she was keener on getting in the dinghy than getting back on the boat. "You want me to go up to that big boat? Can't I just stay in this little boat?".

Yesterday was the date of my father's death. I thought about him a lot during the day. He surely would have liked this boat, although he might have wondered at having to spend so much money on it and upkeep. He was a child of the depression and lived with economic deprivation in mind.

I haven't known deprivation, hunger, or joblessness. No one that I know is hungry, but there are plenty that I don't know who are struggling every day. The comfort with which I live sometimes makes me uneasy. Yet, I realize that I am so fortunate and am grateful for so much. Doing my part to help others through donations and past work at the homeless shelter seems so
small compared to the immensity of the problems. I guess there are times that I feel a little guilty for those things that I have. I just know that I am not stealing from others to better myself.

I don't know where I am going with this topic, other than to say that the deck is stacked against those who have so little. Through saving and ingenuity, my father's family held on to their land and businesses. They lived within their means and got by. I wonder if that is possible in the world that we live in today.

"We live in a system that espouses merit, equality, and a level playing field, but exalts those with wealth, power, and celebrity, however gained."--Derrick Bell

Exams and miscellaneous junk

I am busy this week with the exams for the two courses that I have taken with the Power Squadron.  One that I got last night is a 13 page take home exam that is due in a week.  Lots of calculations and problems to solve.  I have been hunkered down for most of the day working on it.  Ironically, the plotting part of the exam involves a fishing trip with numerous way points to a favorite fishing hole.  I like the practical application of what I've studied!

I did manage to get out on this beautifully cloudy day for a break to take some photographs of the fall foliage here.  It certainly isn't as spectacular as what many of you are used to, but it is what the lowcountry has to offer.  And personally I like the hues and that the oaks keep their green leaves during the winter.  So here is what I saw as I had a few moments of "mental health" from working on the exam problems:

The path beside the wetland next to the house

The front green

Fall vegetables nestled in their mulched beds

Cleome provide color to the flower beds

The variety of bird feeders provide feeding stations for birds and squirrels as well as the occasional possum

The front walk leading up to the house

Although I may be a bit scarce at your blogs this week, I am hoping that all is going well.  My favorite quote of the day that will be much appreciated by Mrs. Bastard and Mrs Moon was from a man, John Tyner,  who was asked to submit to a body scan at the airport.  Now it seems that holiday travelers will have an exciting adventure as they get scanned or patted down in addition to being subjected to long lines and interminable delays.

Anyway, Mr. Tyner decided that he didn't want a body scan, no doubt fearing that some TSA guy/woman would be laughing at him in all of his scanned naked glory.  So he said that he would agree to have a pat down (=grope down).  When the TSA official began the pat down of his groin area, the passenger said, "If you touch my junk, I'll have you arrested." He said that he would not be groped.

I am with you John.  I think that I am very glad to be staying home and not traveling by air this holiday season.  Groping has its place but airports don't seem to be it.  But inquiring minds want to know when "junk" changed its meaning from discarded material, or a slang word for heroin, to referring to male genitalia.  I must have missed that definition along the way. 

Check with you later.  C. has asked me to take a load of junk to the dump.

Good samaritan?

God, what a day yesterday.  I was so tired when I got home around midnight last night that I didn't even shower.  I just fell into bed, hugged C. and told her I loved her, patted Mr. Moose on his needle nose that was stuck in my face, and then fell asleep.  I did not read a blog, I did not write a post.  I also did not eat much or drink enough water.  I was emotionally and physically drained.

I'll tell you about the day.  The morning started with my going to a fast food joint near the boat yard. I don't go to fast food places anymore.  But yesterday morning I was hungry and in a hurry.  First mistake.

 

The drive through service was backed up about a half mile, so I went inside. Second mistake.  So I ordered a biscuit, sat down at the plastic table on a plastic chair and was about to wolf down the biscuit and get out as quickly as possible when a young man came rushing up to a young woman who was standing in line.  He started yelling at her.  He had his fists balled up and was pacing back and forth yelling at her like a maniac. 

I looked up at the other people in line who were pretending as hard as they could that both these people would disappear.  The young woman was telling the crazy guy to please be quiet and to stop.  But he kept yelling to not give her any food because she stole his money.  And he said that he was going to beat her.

Bingo. He said the wrong words.  I looked at him as he was maybe five feet from me.  And I said something like "You need to stop yelling at her and leave now." God, I hate myself when I get in protective mode.   I cannot stand to see someone cowering and being threatened.  This guy was not big but he appeared to be high on something.  I thought that perhaps a fairly stern warning would evoke some flight response. 

Instead he came over and started getting in my face.  So I got up, towering over him, and said that I was going to get my phone (the one time I left it in the car) and was calling the police.  Okay.  That should make him leave, right?  Nope.  He follows me outside, yelling at me, with the young woman telling him to stop.  The frozen people in the fast food joint were watching all this without moving a muscle, pretending still that this is just normal and continuing to order their whatevers. 

So I go to my car, not really turning my back on him, but telling him to get away from me as I was calling the police, and he might just want to head on out.  He just kept getting in my face and screaming at me.  He told me that he could do what he wanted to his wife.  He could yell at her and hit her if he wanted. His fists were balled up, and he was acting like a crazy man.  I told him to get away from me.  I was seriously getting ready to plant a size 13 foot right in the middle of his chest followed by a hard right to the face,  when I saw a police car.

As luck (or HP) would have it, a police car drove by just at the moment and slowed for the light.  I walked quickly to the police car and told the officer that there was a domestic dispute going on right here, right now and to turn around.  He did a U turn and within seconds was right there.  Within a minute three other police cars were right there. 

So the police get out,  start talking to the guy who said that I was making threats at him.  Everyone went off to their respective corners--me with one officer, the girl with another, the fellow with another.  A fourth was standing amongst this happy little enclave ready to taze or do whatever was necessary if any of us made the wrong moves. 

So I told the officer what happened.  He told me that I could go back in the fast food joint and wait until he talked to the other two.  So back I go to purgatory.  I am looked at like I am some kind of homeless guy making trouble when I go back in.  I was wearing jean shorts, a tee shirt, a two day old beard and probably had a nervous twitch by now.  So I can see the confusion. 

The lady who I took to be the manager came over and asked if I was okay.  I wanted to say, "Yes, I do this every day.  It is a great way to get a huge adrenalin rush in the morning." But I said I had been better.  She said that those two were regulars but "He don't usually act quite that bad." Great.  I can only imagine having  to deal with the regular crowd every morning. 

The policeman then came in and told me that the fellow didn't actually make any physical contact with his wife or me, so he couldn't be charged with anything.  He is known by the police as a guy with temper problems and a few other issues that he didn't go into.  He thanked me for stepping up as a "good citizen" but cautioned against getting involved in the future.  He said the best thing would be to quietly step outside and call the police. 

Yes,  I definitely heard him.  I know how stupid I was.  The guy could have had a knife or a gun.  I know that something in me bubbled up when I saw nobody making a move to do anything.  It was like I couldn't help myself.  It was something deep and instinctual. 

So I left, got in my car, and drove past the guy who was surrounded by three police with papers in their hands.  I guess he was getting charged with something or being given a warning.  The young woman who he said was his wife was sitting alone on the curb with her head in her hands.  I rolled down the window as I drove past and said, "Take care of yourself."  She wanly smiled and said thanks.  That was it. 

When I got to the boat,  I had already beaten myself far worse than that guy would have.  Thankfully, the engine started, and I was able to get underway.  All of that went smoothly.  But instead of enjoying the first thirty minutes of the trip, I was continuing to beat myself up: "You know better. You could have gotten up and called outside. What were you looking for--a fight?".  Sigh. 

But I gave myself those thirty or so minutes and then I focused on the buoys and markers, calling the bridge tender to open the bridge, and the boat which is magical and beautiful.  By the time I got to the marina,  the residual of the experience was just about gone. 

For the rest of the day, I just worked on moving things from my 22 foot faithful boat to the new beauty.  I felt a bit like I was hurting the love of my life. 

Later I went to engine class where we had a good laugh over the misspelling of winch on a handout sheet.  The instructor had written "wench" instead.  You can only imagine what "hooking the strap on the wench" evoked.  Goodhearted laughter felt good.  And the two women in the class had a good laugh with the rest of us as we ribbed the instructor who is an older gentleman and hadn't a clue what his mistake was.  

Then I went back down to the boats to check on them and check the bilge systems, do some caulking on one of the hatches, and hook up to shore power.  Finally, around 11:30 PM, I headed home to another kind of refuge, worn out but with my head cleared of the day's events.  I will repeat from my previous post: Life is an apprenticeship.  I am still an apprentice.

Going to the Gulf?

The invisible ocean has given you such abundance,
but still you call it "death",
that which provides you sustenance and work.  
from Rumi

I talked with a colleague yesterday who has been working down in the Gulf of Mexico with scientific sampling related to the oil gusher crisis. She said that people like me were needed down there and urged me to send my resume to her so that she could pass it along to the research coordinators. She said that the work was hellish due to the heat and the unfathomable difficulties of such an ecological disaster.

I think that it is something that I could help with, from editing and reviewing proposals to doing field work on water quality and benthic ecology. If my expertise is needed it would require month long hitches working in Louisiana. I haven't discussed this with my wife yet. And I will clearly need to do that before sending in my resume. I have a sense that it will be important to see with my own eyes what is going on. And as I have learned in Al-Anon, I strive to work to effect a solution instead of obsessing about the problem.

After being on a pristine beach and surrounded by unspoiled estuaries over the past few days, I am indeed grateful to have been in the most beautiful "temple" that I know.  But I am ever mindful that the situation could be very different. The shrimper towing his nets could instead be towing an oil boom. The pelicans riding the thermals could be flopping in a sea of oil unable to fly. The dolphins following the sailboat could be gasping for breath and dying.

It could all change in the blink of an eye. I am not taking anything for granted. These ecosystems and indeed life itself is ephemeral and fragile. Guard it well.

We ourselves have created the ecological conditions that are strangling us. Think of that: no one has done it to us--we humans have done it to ourselves. Ram Dass

Nasty work

I have been working too hard these past few days. I pulled the boat out of the water, got the mast down, and trailered it home.

Once there the process began on scrapping the bottom after power washing it. What marine life wasn't removed had rotted. It has been hot, dirty and smelly work to scrape and remove barnacles and oysters.

I removed the 700 pound keel after using every brain cell to figure out how to jack up the boat high enough to let the keel all the way down. Somehow that got done without crushing me or the boat. Once the keel was removed, the worst of the marine growth up in the keel slot had to be removed with a flat bar.

Yesterday was comparatively easy because I painted the prepped bottom for 8 hours. Last night I was so stiff and tired that I wondered how I would make it to do another day of labor. But this morning found me feeling limber again.

I feel as if I have had little time to do anything other than hard labor. So at noon I met a sponsee for a cold soda and talked about the seventh step. I needed that meeting. Being on the island and not having C. there has been isolating. I don't think that I did this on purpose, but work became the focus instead of meetings.

A friend came stopped by the other day. He had been splitting up enough oak wood to fill his truck bed.  It was good to talk to him and simply have another soul who appreciated the labor that was done.  We both commiserated on our aches and pains.  He then left to go home to dinner with his wife.  I eventually went inside, fixed a hamburger, and then fell into bed.

The good news is that in another day or so and the boat will be ready.  And in another day or so C. will be coming home.  It has been two weeks since she left.  In those two weeks I haven't managed to mess up anything and have gotten a lot of things done.  Sometimes the nasty work has to be done.  It's not necessarily what I want to be doing but the sense of accomplishment is making me feel good.

I haven't had a lot of time to think about being lonely.  Only at night when the work is done for the day and I lie awake for a few minutes reviewing my day do I think about my solitude.  I know that it would be really easy for me to isolate and just keep working at task after task.  The persecution of self runs strong within me.   But for today, I'm glad to have gotten off the island, had some Al-Anon time, and am actually going out to a Mexican restaurant tonight.  Whooee! A big night on the town for this fellow.

Keeping busy

There was a rip roaring thunderstorm last night.  I sat on the porch and watched the rain come down and heard God bowling some serious strikes up in heaven.  At least that's what my grandmother used to tell me.  It sure does sound like a rumble to me. 

The rain has been good for the yard and the garden.  I didn't have to turn on the irrigation system.  And today it has been threatening rain all day.  I have been working on the boat trailer, busting rust, priming and painting it.  Today I didn't get it all done because it was still wet from last night's rain.  But thankfully, it is cooler. 

I picked a bunch of tomatoes from the garden, and even sauteed some for breakfast this morning. I also made an omelet, cooked some pancakes, and had some vegetarian sausage. It was a filling breakfast but really good.  This week has mostly been cereal and an English muffin.  But since that breakfast I haven't had another thing to eat and am still not hungry.

I have watched a lot of news.  And listening to the grilling of BP CEO Tony Hayward yesterday made me glad that I never had CEO aspirations or desire to make huge amounts of money.  I marvel at his ability to stonewall in the face of so much anger and rebuke.  I don't know whether the venting accomplished anything or not.  The oil didn't stop flowing.  And he didn't give up much of anything.  Seems a bit like the definition of insanity to me: saying the same thing over and over but looking for some different answer (or any answer). 

Tomorrow will be one week since C. left.  Another friend is flying in on Sunday to join the group in Nantucket.  She is loving the temperatures.  I am hating the heat and humidity here.  So when I have all I can stand and am smelling like a field hand, I come into the garage and stand in front of the huge fan.  And I pet the cat who loves me no matter how I smell.  And then I go back outside for some more chores.  Al-Anon says that when I got busy, I got better.  I am better today.  I am busy today.  And I am surprisingly content with myself, the cats and the dogs, and the hermit like existence today. 

Here are some flower photos so that you can see what a green thumb C. has.  I am treating them with care. 

Have a good evening and a fulfilling Saturday.

Look up at the stars

I happened to listen to the great physicist Dr. Stephen Hawking's interview yesterday.  What resonated with me were the three pieces of advice that he gave to his children:

"One, remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Two, never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it.  Three, if you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don't throw it away."

I have to say that I have looked up at the stars and into the depths of the ocean and at many wonders in Nature.  But I have also looked down at my feet just to keep myself from falling flat on my face.  But thankfully, I have never ceased to wonder.

As for work, I am engrossed in it still.  And with a greater ease than I've had in many years.  I am thankful that there is much work still to do, maybe now more than ever.  I am still looking for solutions, even when the problems seem insurmountable.  Lamentation is allowed but action is much more meaningful to me. 

And the last thought about love.....well, I am glad that I haven't squandered it.  Maybe I have been a slave to it, but I am glad to have loved and been loved with both furious passion and quiet resolve.  It is sometimes painful but ultimately worth the price. 

They warned me about this

I was in my office at the lab again today working on lectures for tomorrow and Wednesday.  I wonder what I was thinking when I had some doubts as to whether I would be busy when I retired. A lot of people, including my sponsor, warned me that I would be busier after I retired than when I was working. I think that he might be right. I haven't had any time away from the office, except for last Friday.  The lectures are something that I obligated myself to before I left employment, and I'm enjoying putting them together.  So I'm not complaining, just chuckling at the irony of the situation. 

Tonight was my homegroup meeting.  As I've mentioned before this meeting is out in the country, in a beautiful little town.  I like the drive out there.  It takes me through the watery marsh habitats that I love, past some hay fields, and country roads that are overhung by a canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish moss.  Like I've written before, this feels like home to me. 

Before the meeting, I finished up the twelve steps with a sponsee.  I've been working with him for about a year.  He has made remarkable strides with recovery.  It makes me so glad to see someone who was in so much pain a year ago be able to change behavior and outlook.  His wife has now gotten a sponsor and is working the steps in AA.  He thinks her action has been influenced by his change in attitude.  I am glad that he is doing well.

It means a lot to pass on to another what my sponsor passed on to me.  He is going into the hospital for some surgery tomorrow.  The surgery will require some rehabilitation.  Tonight we hung close to him and wished him the best and God's blessing for tomorrow.  I am grateful to have this gentle man who is a gentleman in my life.  And I know that many people will be there to visit him and to offer support after the surgery is over and rehab has begun.  We all have each other's backs through thick and thin.  Some  times I forget that the fellowship is a big family, even though my biological family is nearly non-existent.  We are there for each other, bound not by blood but certainly by love. That is a source of great comfort. 

I will check in with all your blogs when I get a break.  In the mean time, wishing each of you peace. 

A new freedom

Well, the day has finally come when I am no longer officially employed.  This is my last day that I have to show up, deal with staff issues, fill out time sheets, attend department head meetings, and so on.  One of the last things I have to do is to turn in my exit checklist and sign over my equipment to others. 

I have to tell you that it feels very good.  One of my rowing friends asked me if it felt like the last day of high school.  I had to pause because high school was quite a few years ago, but I could remember that sensation of getting out for the summer after graduation and knowing that a whole other world awaited me. College was still a few months away so I was essentially free to read what I wanted, cruise in my car,  and to celebrate the rite of passage to adult hood. So yes, that is exactly how this feels.

And just like high school, there are those who have acknowledged my leaving in very meaningful ways, others who have given ritualistic and cliched acknowledgments, and others who have not acknowledged it at all.  It would be easy to build a lot of expectations around all of this.  But thankfully, my expectations are low when it comes to how people express their true feelings to others.  Some are able to do this easily and for others, avoidance is the best way.

What is really good for me is that I know after so many years of working I have a new freedom and a new happiness.  I am keeping my wonderful office that overlooks the harbor for the time being.  I will be able to continue to do science without the administrative hassles.  No one needs to hunt me down to handle this emergency or that. I can come and go as I want.  I am experiencing being a free adolescent spirit once again.  And I am celebrating the rite of passage to another stage of life.  I'm not old and don't feel old, so I'm calling this rite of passage the one to my second life.

Recovery has been instrumental in that second life since the last few years here have been those in which I have practiced the Al-Anon program. Recovery will continue to be important in my life and now I will have more time to devote to service work.  I am grateful to have these chances to do what I like to do from the standpoint of my profession and my recovery.

Thanks to all of you for your well wishes.  I am most appreciative for your kind thoughts.  I am still the same person, but simply am enjoying a new set of wings at the moment.

In the field

Today, I am out with some of the staff doing shrimp sampling in the harbor. We monitor the number of white, brown, and pink shrimp in order to manage the species.

This will be my last "official" trip. I've had some good times on this project over the years. Luckily, I can come back to just volunteer when I would like to go back out sampling again.

So here's some of what we do;




The trawl net is put over and wire is let out to set it on the bottom.




Here the winch is bringing the gear back in after a 15 minute tow.



The trawl net is coming up and ready to come on deck.




The contents of the net is placed in a basket. The shrimp and crabs are sorted out, measured, and their reproductive state noted.




Data are recorded on forms and then taken back to be entered electronically for later analysis.




There was a fairly good sample of white shrimp, most of which were females ready to spawn.




The semi-transparent exoskeleton makes it possible to determine how advanced in development the ovaries are.

Data collected today will go into a database from which I compare today's findings with the ten year average. Shrimp numbers are lower than usual due to the winter freeze in January. I'm hoping that the oil floating in huge sausage like mats won't make it along the East coast. It could really destroy the fishery.

But I don't see anything that's amiss today. It's such a beautiful day today. Some light breeze and plenty of sunshine. After I get off this boat I'll get on my own to go out sailing and spend the weekend on her.

Happy Friday to all.

Clearing out

I am too tired to do much that is productive today. I did stay up too late last night with the iPad.  It seems that I have become a night person.  But my schedule requires that I also be a morning person, and the two conflict.

So here I am at work in my partially cleared out office.  I have cleaned out the file cabinet in the photo above and most of the things in the book case are packed.  I have a couple more file cabinets to go through and then a bunch of publications of mine that I will donate to the library since I don't need 40 copies of each of them.

Strangely enough, I am now over the shock and despair part of grieving the end of my career here.  I think that a couple of months ago I was really in the throes of grieving my leaving this position.  I knew that I had signed on the dotted line five years ago and wasn't a bit under duress or crazy when I did it.  Both C. and I decided that we would leave when we were young enough to still do other things.  Our stint here has been long and productive. We knew that we would be ready in five years.  And the financial deal was really sweet.

But as the time grew nearer I did grieve. I did the denial (I still have plenty of time left to work here), anger (what was I thinking?), the bargaining (I can come back and work again for the agency at some point), and the depression (no one will miss me) bit.  Sometimes I felt near panic at the thought of leaving this career. 

I have worked at some sort of job in marine science since I was in high school.  That's a long time.  I even volunteered at my first job at a marine lab where I later got my MS and Ph.D. I spent that entire summer emptying out dead preserved oysters and washing the jars. I saw shriveled up oysters in my dreams.  But I showed up every day and did the work.  That lead to paying summer jobs for the rest of high school through college.  And then came graduate school where there were no breaks or vacations. And after graduate school, I went right into moving and working here.  It was a long run.

Now I think that I 'm at the acceptance phase.  I realize that I will see the people here again.  I do have outside interests that will keep me busy.  I am wanting the days now to go quicker so that I can be through with all the finality.  I am ready to accept the new reality of not being a part of this place in the sense that I have in the past. 

So today is a day to go through more drawers of the last file cabinet.  And now I am viewing these old letters and papers as being expendable.  I don't have to keep everything. Those old files that go back to the start of my time here can be perused.  I can let go of them and only save a very few that mean something to me.  It's time to say the good byes and move on. 

The Last One To Go

 I saw the following on the wall of the Marine Biological Laboratory's library when I was in Woods Hole last week.  It was written by Katsuma Dan who was a Japanese cell biologist and embryologist.  He studied at the MBL, married a scientific collaborator Jean Clark, and maintained lasting ties to the laboratory at Woods Hole.

Dan returned to Japan in the late  1930s and worked at the Misaki Marine Biological Station in Morioso Bay. He and his students maintained a remarkable degree of scientific productivity during World War II. Near the end of the war the Japanese Navy took over the Misaki Marine Station and converted it into a base for miniature submarines. Although displaced, Dan and his students set up a crude laboratory nearby and continued their work. At the end of the war Dan posted a hand-written note on the door of Misaki (which I photographed and inserted above), addressed to advancing America forces, in which he said: “... you can destroy the weapons and the war instruments but save the civil equipments  for the Japanese students. When you are through with your job here notify to the university and let us come back to our scientific home.” The note was signed, “The last one to go.”

It is a remarkable note in that the Misaki Marine Station was spared.  I found his appeal poignant.  He simply wanted to return to studying the cells and embryos that interested him.  I think about how lucky I have had it to work at a place where the only complaints over the last few years have been budgetary.  I've had every opportunity to work in peace and with great people. 

I'm glad too that in recovery I finally made it into the rooms of Al-Anon.  I wasn't the last one to go.  I am convinced that I went when God knew it was time for me to be there. I am so grateful for that. 

Wednesday snow

I'm including more photos that I took walking around here yesterday. It is snowing here today and is supposed to continue tomorrow and the next day. There are a couple of field trips at noon so it will be hearty weather for the marsh and beach. I'm sitting near a window and am really enjoying watching it come down.



I like these old photos that are prevalent around the lab. The one above was from a class trip and picnic to a nearby island. It reminded me of the wooden boat that we row on Wednesday evenings. This was not a power boat but a humanly powered boat. A change of pace from today for sure.



The gentleman above is from the old school when marine science was all about macro discoveries--new species, functions of habitats, and natural history. I like the fedora and the suit. Today the field has an influx of genetics, physiology, and cellular experts. There is more balance between the macro and micro components now. But there is nothing like seeing these early pioneers in the field when just about everything was a new discovery.

I have talked to my wife several times a day since I left. We are missing each other. I wish that she could have come up here with me, not to attend the meetings but to visit the area where she also spent time going on ships. It has a lot of nostalgia for us.

I was thinking about a comment made on yesterday's post about the pain associated with having loved ones who are still active with drinking and using. I know that my disappointment and sorrow would be huge if my loved one were to start drinking again. However, I also accept fully that there is nothing I can do to stop her if she wants to start. All I can do is love her, take care of myself, and move on with my life, even if emotionally I am shot full of holes.

I can say that I have some program tools to help with disappointment and grief, but those emotions will still have to be felt. Such is the nature of love. It is when the pain of loving becomes sufficient that surrender is the only option. Some of us figure out early on that there is nothing to be done to change another. Others like me are stubbornly determined and try for years and years to effect change. We try until we are used up emotionally and have lost ourselves. I am most grateful that I found a program of recovery which has shown me there are other options for living.

Finally, I'm including a shot of where I am blogging up here: the bed in the dorm room. Spartan for sure. My trusty Mac book is on the table next to the bed. The extra blanket was a good thing to have last night. Hope you have a good day.

Heading north

I am leaving today for a scientific meeting in Woods Hole, MA.  This will be my last major "away game" before retirement in three months.  I will miss seeing these colleagues that come from around the US.  I've been an integral part of this group since 1992.  It has been a good group in that we could argue vehemently about approaches and concepts and then later get together and have a beer and be colleagial.

I'm not sure what the weather is going to be, other than perhaps some snow.  I've been to Woods Hole many times over my career.  In graduate school, I went there to go to sea on the old Albatross IV.  It was early March, and the weather in the Gulf of Maine was miserable.  We had such heavy seas that we eventually put into port for a couple of days.  There was ice on the deck and sleet was the norm for every six hour watch. 

I remember sitting in the Marine Biology Lab and having to wear a coat and wool cap because the Director kept the heat off to save electricity.  I was trying to write and take notes from some of the journals that I needed for my dissertation.  It was about 40 degrees F in the library!

At the time, I was a lowly graduate student, but I met some of the greats there.  Most of those scholars are no longer alive.  Later, the same Director who kept the heat down became a close colleague as we both worked together to get a fledgling society off the ground. He was the editor for the scientific journal, and I was the President of the Society. 

I enjoy coming back to Woods Hole because it has such a rich history in marine science.  Founded in 1888, the Marine Biological Laboratory is the oldest independent marine laboratory in the Americas.  To date, 53 MBL-affiliated scientists have been awarded the Nobel Prize.  I don't know when and if I'll be back, but it won't likely be in an official capacity after this trip.  I'm going to enjoy my time up there and hopefully get to an open AA meeting since there aren't any Al-Anon meetings in town.

I hope to catch up with each of you over the week.  In the meantime, take care.

Saturday of rest

The gray drizzly morning has now given way to sun. We decided to sleep in this morning and then go for a walk on the beach. The wind is fresh from the NE.

Instead of going on the boat we are going to build a binocular holder for the boat. Before Al-Anon, it would be a disaster to work together on a project.

I remember trying to wallpaper, sheetrock, and paint together. Those projects were interspersed with hurt feelings, anger, and defeat. I am ashamed to admit that I put a hammer through the sheetrock after a particularly ugly bout.

It feels good to work together without rancor now. If impatience does occur, I can now walk away, take a break, and practice restraint.

Later, I am going to a meeting. It's rare to have a weekend not on the boat. So this day offers up some opportunities to relax and enjoy each other in other ways.