whatever it is, he's got it

penny said they were very anthroposophical.
corinne said they were very philosophical.
donna said they were very buddhist.
julia said they were very secular humanist.

they, of course, refers to the talks that the dalai lama gave in ann arbor last weekend. were we all glad that we went? absolutely. together with approximately 20,000 other people (estimates vary), gathered in a huge basketball arena with advertising signs for mountain dew, pontiac, and att&t, we enjoyed just being in the dalai lama's presence.

like many an asian woman, he wore an eyeshade, dark maroon to coordinate with his ordinary monk's robes. this distorted photo is from the live webcast, as no cameras, cellphones, even purses, were allowed into crisler arena. security was tight, with the audience passing through airport style metal detectors, and four dark-suited, tall unsmiling men surrounding the stage and another one sitting directly behind the dalai lama. the situation was particularly fraught, with many chinese protesters outside, and boycotts of the beijing olympics being threatened.

here was a man who has won the nobel peace prize, and who some say has inherited the mantel of peace and cooperation from gandhi and martin luther king. he was sitting in an ordinary arm chair, having placed his flip-flops carefully underneath it, smiling, relaxed, joking a little, taking his time with answers to a few questions. his charisma was apparant even to those of us seated high up in the stadium.

all through two hours of talk on sunday morning, he emphasized loving kindness, whether quoting nagarjuna or stating on a hand-out: "I request you try to be warm-hearted. i ask this of you because these mental attitudes actually bring us happiness. taking care of others actually benefits you."

and this comes out of the abstruse, obscure, arcane teachings of tibetan buddhism, down to the simple, secular concept of altruism. everyone can relate to it. and to him. now if only everyone would practice it.

as he made his final bow and started to leave the stage, an enthusiastic child shouted out affectionately, "goodbye, dalai lama!" and everyone laughed.

you didn't think i'd forget the wildflower of the week did you?



the yellow trout lily (aka dogs's tooth violet or adder's tongue; Erythronium americanum), now in bloom by the tens of thousands throughout the woods. it is a lily, with speckled leaves suggestive of a trout. it is not a violet; one of the wildflower books says that the bulb has the shape of a dog's tooth. i dug up one and in fact, the small smooth white bulb is elongated and bends to a rather sharp point at the root end, so could be imagined as a canine.

on my way back to the house, i saw the big snapping turtle just floating under the surface of the pond and the goldfish swimming heedlessly around.

wildflowers of the week

friday again and time for a new post. i get a lot of feedback (via emails and in person, but it would be heartwarming to read a comment every now and then, ahem) about how folks like to see photos on the blog. since we've had a few warm days, the native wildflowers have just started to cooperate with my wildflower(s) of the week plan.

spring beauties (Claytonia caroliniana Michx)

the first bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis)

others will be coming into bloom for the next month or so. the various species grow in the undisturbed bits of woodland and i like to think of how long they've been there. centuries? millenia? more? since the glaciers retreated 10,000 years or so ago?

in response to a few questions, yes, the sandhill cranes are back from florida (as they have been doing since the glaciers melted, according to the audubon society), and yes, the goldfish have come up from deep. the chorus frogs and spring peepers have been calling and the bluebirds are working on nests in two of the boxes and the male redwing blackbirds are squabbling over territory.

and yes, i felt the earthquake that was centered in illinois this morning. i happened to be awake at 6:30, brooding over what to post on the blog, when i felt the bed shake slightly about four times. jm didn't believe me until we saw the headline in the free press. that's the third earthquake i've felt in michgan. i guess it doesn't count as a sign of spring.

ethical decision making down on the farm

faithful blog readers will perhaps remember that the large handsome old barn across the road collapsed back before xmas, and recent visitors have observed that all the debris is far from being cleaned up. i've been debating about whether to call the township building office and ask if there is any law that says you have to take down a dangerous old ruin. there are four horses are in the same area as the piles of splintered lumber, roofing, and general mess. the renters who own the horses have some of this junk surrounded by yellow plastic "danger do not enter" tape, but as penny observed, the horses can't read.

so i was prevaricating about whether or not to call. my main hesitations came from my fear of retribution from the rough and ready renters and my own desire not to be a nosy neighbor and/or an old lady kvetch. i'm embarassed to say that i'm a wimp.

what is the point of taking an ethics class if you can't use what you've learned to make a decision about what is the right thing to do in life? where does all that abstract philosophising get you?

so, shall i call and complain? or keep silent?

let's ask the dead white male philosophers.
i consulted aristotle, who said that a virtuous character is created by virtuous actions.
i asked kant, who said that there is a categorical imperative to always protect innocent animals in danger.
i channeled mill, who pointed out that the greatest good for the greatest number would be for the horses to be safe (he included them in the moral community) and that i would feel good doing the right thing.

fortunately i know a number of living white females, all certified to have very high moral standards.
judith, corinne, sara, and penny all said, yes, protect the horses, make the call. why wouldn't you? better safe than sorry.
i asked neighbor sue, who said yes, call, and while you're at it complain about that big, mean dog that runs loose over there.
i saw neighbor mrs wongstrom, out getting her mail, who said "that barn is an eyesore, call the township."
neighbor scott came by on his bicycle. he was lukewarm about the issue, even though three chickens might also be in danger.

with such unanimous support, i made the call this morning and the township building inspector will drive by and take a look. his secretary seemed more concerned with the eyesore issue than the concern for safety. i guess the eyesore factor is economic; it could influence the desirability of property in the neighborhood. there are so many "for sale" signs around.

i feel good, but embarassed that i didn't call sooner? will my call have any effect? i'll let you know if i can tell.

we both said we wouldn't do it on the blog

i went in to shaman drum bookstore, hoping to find karl pohrt so that i could congratulate him again on the recent enriching symposium held at the university of michigan in his honor, and there he was. demurring, humble as always, he changed the subject and enthusiastically told me that he has started a blog.

"me too," of course. in a flash we were down in the cavernous dark unfinished basement of the store (such a contrast to the attractive decor above), comparing blogs on his laptop.

"i told myself i wouldn't put photos of the grandkids on the blog," karl said, "but i bought this cute little outfit for natalie when i was in china...and one for max too..."

yes, had i told myself the same thing. i want my blog to be well, more literary, less chatty and domestic. but some of my faithful readers have asked for photos of tamara...what can a blogmistress do? i want the faithful to keep coming back for more.

do by all means do check out karl's blog thereisnogap.com for good commentary, book reviews, and more.

and here tamara is on march 30, age 3 1/2. jeremy is telling her that she mustn't take sand toys away from little kids.



[the fact that you see this photo at the bottom of the page means that i have figured out how to move 'em around]

for spacious skies

in the last week of march i flew on a chilly morning from Detroit to Chicago, changed planes and went on to San Jose via Los Angeles. not the most efficient routing, but the most economical. it was overcast in chicago but, hoping for the best, i got a window seat with an unobstructed view.

somewhere over the plains the cloud cover ended with an smooth north-south edge and soon we were flying over snow-capped richly green mountains, whose lower slopes were entirely covered with brilliant yellow bloom. a shrub of some sort. the pilot announced that Santa Fe could be seen on the right side of the plane, and Albuquerque on the left. i was sitting on the left. i don't know Albuquerque at all, so there was nothing i could pick out beyond the sandy grid of small houses.

next, we were over Flagstaff, Arizona, with the Grand Canyon on the right. on the left was a clear view of something i had never seen: the Arizona Meteor Crater, a huge perfect circle in the desert. i remembered a fancy english word for this: "astrobleme." one of the large lakes is the middle of Sweden is an astrobleme, i.e. created by a meteorite crashing to earth.

then more desert, more mountains and suddenly i saw the towering antennae and round white dome of the observatory on Mount Wilson, in the San Gabriel mountains, just north of L.A. Patrice, John, and i had quite an adventure there, when the mix of radio frequencies interfered with the automatic security system of the car, and we couldn't get it started.

landing at LAX is a familiar experience and i was happy to see the palm trees at the edge of the runway. as we took off, there was the deep blue pacific edged in white breakers and the Santa Monica pier and the green coastal range mountains, which continuted underneath until we landed in San Jose. i stepped out of the terminal into warm sunshine, with ornamental fruit trees in bloom and thick california poppies orange along the roadways.

after four happy California days with Jeremy, Aekyong, and Tamara, i returned back east, leaving on a warm, sunny morning. the plane headed north out of San Jose and there was San Francisco with its gleaming white skyscrapers and its three bridges, with the Golden Gate hazy in the distance. next we were over Sacramento, identifiable by the wide curving river and clumsy "golden" bridge (painted a flat ocher) and the white neoclassical facade of the domed state capitol at the end of its rectangle of green park.

then the Great Valley's flat checkerboard of huge brown and green fields spread out below, growing a large percentage of America's produce and exporting a good deal of it worldwide too.

Suddenly the words and tune of "O beautiful, for spacious skies..." came into my mind, though it was too early in the spring to see any amber waves of grain.

and then it struck me.

the day before in the San Jose Mercury i'd read a an article on the dramatic increase of people applying for food stamps as a result of the recession. it included the fact that 28 million people are currently enrolled in the program nationwide. 28 million people living with incomes at the poverty level, the majority of them children. and illegal immigrant agricultural workers do not qualify for food stamps.

this while we are spending how much every day on the occupation of Iraq?

okay, the title of the song is "America the Beautiful" not "the United States the Beautiful." that's it, i thought, i'm proud of my continent, even if i can't be proud of the greedy culture of my country.

we passed over appropriately named the Sierra Nevada and saw the silver-blue sheen of Lake Tahoe nestled in its mountains. as the plane sloped down into Reno, a large mountain with white ski trails peppered with little moving dots came into view. as if to confirm that spring skiing was in progress, two women boarded the plane on crutches. up again: many more mountains; some desert salt flats; clouds over the Rockies; and then vast white snow-covered fields that i guessed might be the Dakotas, after taking a look at the route map in the airline magazine.

overcast and rain in Chicago and a delayed flight into Detroit. back home late and a welcome sign of spring: the early frogs were trilling their loud chorus.

photo contest i.d. revealed; winners announced

interestingly enough, no one was able to correctly identify both places. several entries recognized the "edicule" constructed over the tomb of jesus in CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHER in jerusalem, but no one recognized the other image. the "edicule" was built in "the Ottoman Baroque style" in 1809-11, after a fire destroyed the previous structure. it was damaged in an earthquake of in 1927. in 1949 under the british mandate iron girders were installed to prop it up. hence the odd, post-modern look of this, the holiest site in all of christendom, where jesus was buried and rose from the dead.

if you want to see more of it, including a live webcam feed, google it. what would jesus think?

and what would abraham lincoln think? the second photo shows the neo-neo-classical memorial ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S BIRTHPLACE in hodgenville, kentucky. Now a national park, this grandiose edifice was designed in 1909-11 by the architect john russell pope (better known as the architect of the west wing of the national gallery of art and the jefferson memorial in washington, d.c.). inside it is the "symbolic log cabin" where the rugged, modest president wasn't born in 1809 (just as the Ottomans were cooking up the edicule).

judith first commented how inappropriate this bombastic building housing the "symbolic" log cabin seems to the spriit of her hero abraham lincoln and made the comparison to the strangly surreal edicule enclosing the tomb of jesus.

with judith and your blogmistress in front of the memorial is our friend the well-known author Kristin Johannson, from berea, kentucky, who has written about the comic farce of the "symbolic log cabin." maybe she will contribute to the blog on this subject; she was not eligible for the contest.

since no contestant (including the architecturally sophisticated m in a northern city) precisely knew the memorial building, no one should feel badly. there were 12 entries, including two from faint-hearted art historians who said they knew the sepulcher but weren't playing the game.

and now, congratulations to the WINNERS in different categories:

first prize: SUSAN HIGMAN LARSEN for a correct i.d. of the holy sepulcher (after revising her original answer "the guggenheim eskilstuna") and very close with "a memorial to a Civil War Soldier or long-past president" way to go, susan!

honorable mention: MARCIA WEIL BOROWSKI for being both right and wrong: correct on the holy sepulcher, amusingly wrong on lincoln's birthplace, guessing it to be "General Lee's tomb? Stonewall Jackson's? the tomb of some Southern martyr?"

ODED BOROWSKI for the silliest answer, calling the birthplace monument "my barn" (correct, of couse, on the other, since he teaches a history of jerusalem)

SARAH MINOR SMITH for the most imaginative: "the foyer of Gringott's bank off of Diagon Alley and a Temple to Mammon in Fargo, SD" (you go, cousin!)

honorable mention: MAYA HOPTMAN for the sepulcher as "the place of my great-great-great-great grandfather's bar mitzvah and catherine the great's outhouse"

INGRID HANSEN WOOD for the most creative format: a somewhat cryptic knock-knock joke, correct on the jesus part and correct that such a memorial would not be for a woman

winners will be individually notified and invited to choose their prizes: either they can write an entry for posting on the blog, or can request that the blogmistress write an entry on the topic of their choice.

MANY THANKS to all the entrants, and check back for future postings by the winners (hopefully) as guest authors on the blog.