As I walked around the neighborhood I had to snap a pic of this mndblowing geometric perfection.
Agave
Nature’s Fractal Beauty
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Category Archives: All Posts
Bright Star in Dark Times | A Lesson in Quiet Heroism
I think this should be taught in schools because I can’t believe I never heard about Robert Emmett Fletcher Jr. Have you?
Robert Emmett Fletcher Jr. was an American agricultural inspector who quit his job to manage fruit farms of Japanese families sent to internment camps during WW2.
Fletcher was born in San Francisco and grew up on a farm in Contra Costa County east of San Francisco. He attended the what would become the University of California at Davis, graduating with an agriculture degree in 1933. He managed a peach orchard and subsequently worked as a state and county agricultural inspector, in which capacity he got to know Japanese American farmers throughout the state.
Upon learning about the looming relocation of Japanese farmers in his area, Fletcher grew concerned. This led to the Tsukamoto family, who owned a grape ranch in Florin near Sacramento, proposing that he take care of their farm while they were away.
They offered him their home and all net profits from the crops (though Fletcher would only take half) after covering farming costs, mortgages, and taxes.
Two other families, the Okamotos and Nittas, also proposed similar arrangements.
Despite deep anti-Japanese sentiment — including a bullet fired into the Tsukamoto barn, Fletcher continued to work. When the families returned home in the fall of 1945, their farms and homes were intact—the Tsukamotos’ home had even been cleaned by Fletcher’s wife Teresa—and half of the profits were waiting for them.
His inspirational story is recounted in history books, including “We the People: A Story of Internment in America” by Elizabeth Pinkerton and Mary Tsukamoto, whose farm he saved.
Fletcher died at the age of 101 in 2013.
This is the face of a quiet hero.
Word of the Day: Nemophilist
This is such a great word!
Nemophilist: One who is fond of forest or forest scenery; a haunter of the woods.
Oh yes, I’d love to haunt some woods right about now, with the stars above and the full moon to guide a late night hike…
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
George Gordon Byron
(George Gordon was an English romantic poet and peer. He was one of the leading figures of the Romantic movement, and has been regarded as among the greatest of English poets. Wiki)
Sky Gazing
This is what I saw when I looked up early this morning, an unfiltered tropical sky. There’s a 40% chance of rain tomorrow, but I don’t really think it’ll happen.
Peaceful, serene, reminiscent of Hawaii.
The sunrise lights up the clouds like a painting.
Grateful…
Alpenglow
If we’re lucky enough to see it, alpenglow is the rosy light of the setting or rising sun on high mountains.
I don’t know how in the world my son was able to take this creative photo of alpenglow on the Olympic Mountains in Washington state, but it’s one of my favorite pics of his from a couple years ago.
Since we all seem to be stuck in a neverending heat wave, I thought this photo might help to cool us off; to evoke memories of crisp, snowy days.
How do YOU stay cool?
August is Full of Full Moons
A tale of two moons.
There’s a ball of light
close to the sea
on a calm clear night
the waves move free
what comes to mind
is a lovely dream
there’s joy to find
in this timeless scene… Richie Cho
There are two full moons in August!
The Sturgeon Moon is August 1 and the second full super moon, also called a Blue Moon — will be August 30.
A Blue Moon is not actually blue but referred to as a second full moon in a calendar month, an occurrence that happens every two to three years.
This full moon is associated with the goddess Hecate, who is connected with the elements of the moon; waxing and waning, cycles, and transformation. It’s a time to contemplate our inner transformation and to embrace the power of the moon.
The second full moon presents a time to practice gratitude for what you have, where you’ve come from, and the nature all around you.
I hope we have clear skies so I can see at least one of these beauties!
Unforgettable
As I was writing this post, I learned that we lost Sinead O'Connor, another one-of-a-kind talent. "Nothing Compares to You" can't be surpassed, whether she sang it or Prince did. There's so much that could be said about Sinead's tragic life, but I'll just honor her music and not dwell on the other stuff.
Since Tony Bennett died last week, I’ve been listening to a lot of the old standards by the great ones: Sinatra and Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole.
I don’t know how I missed the news, but I didn’t realize that Natalie Cole died several years ago.
Her voice was magical.
Natalie carried on her dad’s incredible legacy with an enormous gift of her own. She died at the age of sixty-five from idiopathic pulmonary arterial hypertension which led to heart failure after she received a kidney transplant in 2009.
I always loved this bittersweet duet. They’re both unforgettable.
One of Natalie’s top ten hits:
Unearthed Primitive Artifact Or…
Before I even begin my strange tale, I want to be sensitive to negative colloquialisms such as “‘Burying the hatchet’.
The use of this term trivializes the ancient peace-making ceremony in which two fighting nations symbolically buried or cached their weapons of war.
Offensive language like this is a result of centuries of violence and continues to perpetuate stereotypes that have real-life impacts on Native communities.
Indigenous Peoples and their cultural traditions are real and deserve respect. They are not historical artifacts, caricatures, or mascots. (radicalcopyeditor.com)
But I don’t know how else to describe what I just found in my garden…an actual buried hatchet.
Look at it!
It’s a joke from the Universe, right?
I have no idea how long it’s been there or how it became buried near a path that leads to some steps to the second level.
I can’t even figure out how, after all this time, it became UNburied enough for me to notice that bright blue handle.
So with deepest respect, I brushed away the dirt around the buried hatchet.
I’m not sure what to do next. Dig it up? Leave it there? Anyone care to hazard a guess about what it means?
Twinning Toilets
One more story to share…
When I was little and I’m sure it’s because my mom was a nurse, but I experienced a significantly higher level of attention to hygiene in our day to day life than some. Our joke was that I had as much Lysol in my veins as red blood cells.
For example, WAY before there were seat covers, whenever we happened to visit a public restroom, my mom taught me how to place three long pieces of toilet paper to cover the seat before I sat down.
She said it was a sanitary barrier against germs. Germs were our nemesis–we must protect ourselves!
Even today, when I’m in a public restroom, whether there are no seat covers or the container is empty, I’ll still channel my mom and use her method to save myself from touching a seat countless others have used. #EWWWW
A while back, Angel Girl and I were at my local park and she needed to use the restroom. There was an empty container where the seat covers should have been, so it was the perfect opportunity to pass on the knowledge from her namesake, exactly the way I was taught,
Later that day while I was making dinner, Angel Girl was in the bathroom and she pulled three long strips of toilet paper and covered the toilet seat before using.
When mom asked her what she was doing, she said “That’s what Grandma does.”
Like a duckling, that angel imprints on all my behaviors, haha.
I heard the chat and rushed in to explain to this brilliant brilliant little human that this method was something we only needed to do for public toilets, the ones that are used by lots of other people, and we didn’t need to do that when we were here at home or at their house.
I’m absolutely sure that the toilet seats in MY home are pristine and reasonably sure that the toilet seats in THEIR home were clean (fingers crossed.)
A little research blew my mind. There seems to be no real scientific or medical reason for covering toilet seats. It was once believed that you could catch a gastrointestinal bug or sexually transmitted disease from a public toilet, but research has proved otherwise; that it’s a practically pointless exercise in sanitation.
Another alternative would be to use an alcohol or bleach wipe, but I don’t always have them with me.
Does anyone else but me (and Angel Girl) still do this? Do you hover or cover?
‘Cos I don’t really care, I still think it’s gross to have any direct contact on a toilet seat where a thousand strangers have been, so I’ll continue to cover.
Word of the Day: Lalochezia
Are you guilty of doing this, too?
The word of the day is lalochezia. It’s a noun formed from the Greek lalia (speech) and chezo (to relieve oneself).
Maybe that’s where the term “potty mouth” came from??
I have been known to unleash a hearty string of f-bombs and other expletives. To be completely honest, it is, usually, quite satisfying.
Lalochezia: The use of foul or abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain, emotional release through swearing.
Lalochezia describes that moment when you’re so stressed out and angry that you start spurting out the foulest language possible to relieve stress and pain.
Yup, been there, done that…
I’m sure that a few deep restorative yoga breaths — some vital prana — is probably way more soul healing, but in some cases the venting of specific profanity MIGHT be nearly as invigorating.
I guess I have a ways to go before I enter the transcendent state of nirvana, or as my dad would say, “that’s not very ladylike, Rosebud, and I’m sure you can think of more appropriate language.”
Not always.
(graphic from pinterest)
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 