thedamari

Onondaga Cave Revisited

My firstborn came to visit recently, staying for eight days. Due to the fact that I rarely call out from work, I had abundant PTO in my leave bank and was able to take off the entire time for a staycation. The spouse was also able to use vacation most of the days. And son the younger works from home, so was able to flex his hours.

We did a lot of nostalgic activities and generally had a blast playing tourist in our own area. This included a day trip to Onondaga Cave, a place I haven’t visited in at least 15 years, though I did write a poem about it once. It had been long enough that the tour was fresh and new to me, for the most part. And even the bits I remembered were still awe inspiring, well worth a revisit.

Walkways and handrails inside a very large cave system — walking paths/handrails

Stairway inside a tourist cave, with pillars rising on either side. — walking paths/handrails

Onondaga cave is immense. Though there are a couple of places where adults need to duck a little, there’s no crawling, climbing or ropes involved in the exploration. Trails and handrails have been put in, and there’s an option to sit out the steepest part of the tour. Still, you need to be able to do some hills and stairs and to be on your feet for quite a while. If you’re able to do that, it’s a fascinating place to visit.

Since it’s operated by the Missouri Department of Conservation (incidentally, one of the top state conservation departments in the country), it’s well maintained with an eye to preserving a healthy ecosystem. That means there are no tours during bat hibernation season. A piece of good news we learned from our guide is that bat populations are starting to rebound after being nearly decimated by white-nose syndrome.

Some of my favorite spots on the tour:

Two large pillars--onne white, one rust colored--rising from a cave floor. — The Twins (cave pillars)

Cave formations - pillar and "curtains" — The Twins (cave pillars)

Saving my very favorite for last — the Lily Pad Room, where mineral deposits sitting in a pool of water take the shape of lily pads. It’s breathtaking.

Inside a cave, flat rock formations in water look like lily pads

I’ll finish by sharing the poem I mentioned. This was published a few years ago in “Eternal as a Weed: Tales of Ozark Experience.”

Onondaga Cave

This race is indeed not to the swift
and is not a race.
Today we like speed. The whole world
in an instant with a keystroke.
Third-graders: do 100 addition problems
in five minutes. Speed proves competence.
Service so quick you’ll quake,
or something like that.
Nobody should wait.
The gravest sin is to slow others down.
That’s above ground.

Enter this cave and the standards invert.
Muse upon the mighty stalagmites.
Take in the tightly clinging stalactites.
Marvel at the pace of growth, an inch per hundred years.
One. Inch. Per. One. Hundred. Years.
That’s where the awe comes in.
If they formed at a fast clip, we’d chop them out,
carry them off, stack them in our garages,
intending to use them in a craft someday.
There would be no sense of wonder.
The slowness makes it so.
Speed wins the day, persistence the millennia.

Old House Woes and the Joy of a Purple Kitchen

This has been a great house for us. I love hating working on it.

I am trying to show up here again, both reading and writing. I won’t get too long-winded with what has been occupying my time instead, but I will share my latest old home misadventure.

The husband and I have never broken free of the find out phase of choosing to live in a 124-year-old house. Though in our defense, it was only 102 years old when we bought it. It’s been a 22-year fix-up adventure, including adding missing gutters, getting rid of the dangerous knob-and-tube wiring, planting raspberries and pollinator plants, adding a carport with solar panels, and seemingly endless repairs.

Often, our next project choose us by announcing itself in dramatic fashion. The latest was back in May when we woke up to find a water pipe in the bathroom above our kitchen had sprung a leak overnight and dripped through the ceiling for hours while we slept. Then the shut-off valve at the sink broke when Mr. Damari tried to turn it. So whole house water shutdown it was until he could enact a temp fix.

We already had not been using the tub in that bathroom for similar reasons, thinking that repair would rise to the top of our to-do list at some point. Welp, might as well get it all done at once. Get the plumber in for an opinion, and then a second plumber. And then learn we had bigger problems — namely our main water intake was leaking and needed to be replaced at the foundation of our home.

Which required removing this neglected-for-years bush to provide access. I didn’t think to take a before pic until it we had it half cut away.

Massive bush half cut away in front of a house with white siding.

It needed to come out anyway. Why not keep adding project upon project?

Once the main intake was replaced, work could proceed on the pipes for the bathroom, which of course involved cutting away part of the kitchen ceiling. And then as the contractor followed the maze created by previous workers, also involved removing a bit of one wall in the kitchen. The spouse decided to add another light switch while we were at it, so holes in two walls. May as well replace the old, janky light fixture/ceiling fan in the kitchen while we were spending all our money and time anyway.

Meanwhile, this happened in the living room. I tried to clean the fan blades with an extendable brush, and it just…fell, missing me by inches.

ceiling fan light fixture lying in pieces on a carpet

We’re in the zone. Why not replace two light fixtures?

We experienced multiple delays for multiple reasons. Example: Hey, says the contractor, they don’t actually make valves like the ones in your ancient tub anymore, and I can’t find one locally anywhere. So we’ll have to wait until we can get one shipped.

But eventually, around mid-July, all plumbing was done, light fixtures replaced, ceiling and walls patched. Time to touch up the paint on the kitchen walls. The walls I had painted purple 19 years ago. Guess how much success I had finding a color match?

wall with two different shades of purple paint on it

All right, I can roll with painting two entire walls. We’ll only have to unbolt and remove the rack for our pots and pans along with getting a refrigerator out of the way. And it will only expand a two-hour job into a whole weekend project.

Did I mention we have ten-foot ceilings? We have ten-foot ceilings. The good news is that I’m still well able to go up and down a ladder. I move a lot more cautiously than I did two decades ago. But I do take joy in a purple kitchen.

Cookware hanging on a stainless steel rack attached to a purple wall

Now the only remaining detail is deciding what to plant in the bare patch in front of our house where the huge bush used to be. Maybe something large enough to hide the evidence of how much the sunroom that was added to the original structure at some point is now separating from the rest of the house.

Bare earth in front of a house with white siding.

Despite all this, the spouse and I talked it over and agreed we made the right decision moving in here. It’s a great location and provided a lot of space for our kids when they were growing up.

A direct quote from my husband: This has been a great house for us. I love hating working on it.

On Today’s Bike Ride: Hungry Hungry Hatchlings

I’m trying to get out on my bicycle at least a little every weekend, even when I don’t have a great deal of time. Today’s ride wasn’t all that long, but I got to see some barn swallow babies at a shelter house.

Hungry, hungry hatchlings:

No rest for new parents!

On Today’s Bike Ride: New Trail and Blue Heron

After a brutal, snowy winter followed by an exceptionally wet spring, Freida and I are hitting the trails again. I was able to add a new experience to my new experiences list today thanks to the city adding a new section of trail into the network.

The Perche Creek Trail branches off from the MKT and eventually will extend to allow easy travel.

Paved bike trail approaching a bridge. Sign says Perche Creek Trail.

Oh, look! One of my favorite things–a bridge!

Paved trail bridge with tall rails on either side.

Scan the QR code to learn more. Phase 2 is scheduled to be complete in 2027.

Sign on bridge: "Perche Creek Phase 2 Development. — Anticipated opening of phase 2, Fall, 2027.

But for now, if you don’t want to lift your bicycle over a guardrail and continue on the road (which I know people have and do), it’s kind of a dead end.

paved trail ending at guardrail with road on other side. Red pickup on road.

But it’s a pleasant ride, and I got to see a blue heron.

Great blue heron in mud at edge of large puddle — Pondering

I hope to get out for a ride at least once a week and build my stamina back up. Today’s ride was 13-14 miles or so roundtrip. Not too bad. Here’s to more pedaling adventures!

Two Thousand Miles – Mother’s Day Poem

Well, my two kids grew up, and I’m not sure why they did that to me. I still love them. Anyhow, here’s a little poem I wrote for Mother’s Day.

Two Thousand Miles

There was a child who used to cling to me
as if he were made of suction cups
Now he lives two thousand miles away

I inched away with stealth from the bed where
he slept to have a moment in my own skin
Now he lives two thousand miles away

I drove through the city in the dark more
than once to bring him home earlier than planned
Somehow now he’s two thousand miles away

I turned my head, and he inched with stealth
then leapt so far so fast to find his own skin
and landed two thousand miles away

I want him to be where I see him on my phone
the mountains, the beach, a life of his own
I pretend it’s not that far—two thousand miles away

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms and mom figures, whether you are in the thick of child raising, empty nesting it or something else.

Not Cooperstown, but Just as Important

Kansas City Monarchs baseball uniform in display case

Friday, I fulfilled a bucket list item when my husband and I visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City. As anyone who knows about baseball and American history is aware, the major leagues were segregated until Jackie Robinson started at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. Visiting this museum, we learned a lot about how Black players persevered anyway, improving our society along the way.

The website explains: The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum is the world’s only museum dedicated to preserving and celebrating the rich history of African-American baseball and its impact on the social advancement of America. The privately funded, 501 c3, not-for-profit organization was established in 1990 and is in the heart of Kansas City, Missouri’s Historic 18th & Vine Jazz District. The NLBM operates two blocks from the Paseo YMCA where Andrew “Rube” Foster established the Negro National League in 1920.

Some of the greatest athletes the game has ever seen are featured–Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Jackie Robinson, and more. We encountered Buck O’Neil almost right away, scouting a game:

Statue of Buck O'Neil in a Monarchs uniform — Buck O’Neil scouting a game

A short film condensed the history of MLB segregation and integration, including the shameful treatment of Black players who originally joined some of the very first teams, before they were officially banned. One influential player in particular is now known not for his skill or achievements, but just for entrenching racism in the sport. I am deliberately not giving him fame among my handful of readers. But imagine — the players he kept out went on to shine and give us so much. While his legacy is for all the bad he accomplished.

Poster announcing "Championship Negro Baseball with Satchel Paige."

Statues of baseball players on replica ball field.

Standing among the greats

A couple of interesting tidbits I learned:
*The KC Monarchs were the first team to install lights and play games at night.
*Several of the teams traveled and played ball in Japan in the 1920s and 30s.
*And of particular interest for Women’s History Month, there were some women who played professionally.

Bust of baseball player Mamie Johnson in front of cutout image of her. — Mamie “Peanut” Johnson

Bust of baseball player Toni Stone in front of cutout image of her — Mamie “Peanut” Johnson

I found a couple of their autographs among the vast collection of signed baseballs.

6 autographed baseballs. One says Toni Stone, another Mamie Peanut Johnson.

I can’t help thinking how discrimination and segregation harm everyone on every side. When we exclude others for no good reason, we are not only hurting them, we’re depriving ourselves of their talents and contributions. It makes no sense, yet it’s done too often.

I highly recommend experiencing this bit of baseball history if you get the chance. The woman who sold us our tickets said the museum will be expanding and moving into a new building soon, so that’s me planning to return in the future.

On Today’s Walk: Bird Gossip

Today’s walk was an early evening affair for me. I came upon some sparrows, ensconced in what I’m sure they believed to be a private communications chamber. But they were spilling all their secrets to me.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/FeXkK8HXHYM

Would they have been so chatty had they known a human was listening in?

Today’s New Thing

Though I haven’t posted about it as much as I intended, I’m still on a quest for new experiences. They can be big or small. The little ones quite often can be pretty darned fulfilling . It’s not necessary to travel great distances or spend a lot of money to discover more of the world. It’s all a matter of attention and attitude.

So today’s new to me experience was eating cranberry-apple jam from the farmers’ market. So tasty! And yes, I am acclimating to farmers’ market shopping. I still stay only a few minutes, making one or two purchases. But it’s opening up my life some more.

Despite all the troubles, there’s still a whole world of delights all around us, waiting to be noticed. It’s important not to lose sight of that.

What’s it Like in Cat Heaven?

For the first time in 22 years, my household is catless. For a period of years, we had three cats. But one by one, they have crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Puffies (or Puffaroo or Puffington or Puff Daddy or Puffing Thing, depending on the day) was our last feline standing.

He showed up on our porch nearly 12 years ago and communicated quite clearly, “I live here now.” The vet at that time estimated him to be 3 or 4 years old. So he was getting on in years lately. He and my husband had developed an old guy ritual of going out together in the mornings to watch the sunrise before coming back in for breakfast. I swear, they even started looking like each other.

Last week, out of the blue, our beloved kitty had a seizure. Then he stopped eating. After a trip to the vet ER, we learned he had a mass on his pancreas that was causing his blood glucose to bottom out. But we were able to take him home with some medicines that helped him perk up and enjoy some food for a couple of days before the pills stopped working.

His brain cells were scarce, but he was an exceptionally affectionate knucklehead and craved human companionship at all times. Over the weekend, we were able to make sure he spent very little time alone. The weather blessed us, and he got to spend a lot of time out in the back yard, lying in the grass, feeling the sunbeams and smelling the smells, while we hung out in camp chairs. When he was inside, I refrained from upsetting behaviors such as running the vacuum.

Monday, we had a vet come to the house and help Puffies the last bit of the way across the veil, before the pain became unbearable for him. It was about as good an ending as you could hope for, even if we would never be ready for it.

Now that all of our cats are gone, I find myself wondering what cat heaven might be like. There are no vacuum cleaners, for sure! Also no garbage disposals. I believe any door can be opened with a wishful thought, rather than a need for height and opposable thumbs. The food is always smell-rich, and humans never take away the bowl, saying you’ve had enough. Of course, it’s the correct food–human servants will never make a wrong selection. There are heating pads aplenty, all set at the perfect temperature for napping in the ever-present sunbeams. Oh, and boxes. So many boxes! This is what I like to imagine as I try to heal the cat-sized hole in my heart.

We are not ready to think about another pet. At all. So please don’t tell us about your cousin’s step-sister’s cat’s new litter of kittens. Though I am happy we took in every kitty we ever had, we just can’t go there again yet, or maybe ever. Time will tell.

On Today’s Walk: Snow Here and There and Here Again

Today’s walk about the neighborhood started out in fog–brain fog. It was pretty darned cold, but I couldn’t remember where I had stowed those nice new electric gloves. I vaguely recalled putting them “some place obvious” where “I’ll be sure to look.” At least I got a lot of indoor steps in my search, as well as finding a warm headband that’s been lost for a while.

I finally left wearing older, less thermal gloves. My hands did mostly okay. Once I had my focus on other things, of course, the memory of the “obvious location” snuck up on me and announced itself. I verified when I got home the new hand warmers were in fact in the carrying bag that came with them, hanging in my closet. I had even seen the bag, but we have dozens of reusable totes around. And I’ve had a lot on my mind, okay? Stop judging! LOL.

The only pics I got this afternoon were crap because it was pretty chilly to have my bare hands exposed. Here are a couple anyway, for documentation purposes.

Dirty ice/snow mix between street and brown grass.

Small piles of snow along the edge of the road.

We’ve had three significant snows since New Year’s Day, and there are still remnants here and there. From what I’m hearing, this might be my last walkabout for a few days. More you know what is on the way, accompanied by subzero temperatures. I don’t remember a winter this unrelenting in well over a decade.

But hey, I’m proud of myself for getting outdoors today anyway. And I’m grateful for the time and resources that have allowed me to stock up on provisions for weathering a week in New Siberia. For anyone else in the path of the coming system, take care, and know I’m wishing you well.

Maybe my next “On Today’s Walk” post will simply be images from different rooms in my house.