Meanderings on writing, reading, walking, bicycling, and life
Author: thedamari
I live in Missouri, a more beautiful place than many realize. I love writing, reading, walking, bicycling, and making lists. I’ve written poetry since I was seven. A few years ago I branched out into short fiction and memoir pieces. I also perpetually have a novel in progress. My brain pursues ideas at a brisk pace, wandering all over the map. This blog represents one of my efforts to keep up with it.
A friend I hadn’t seen in a while was looking for a buddy to do this 5K walk to raise money for childhood cancer research and treatment. It was a beautiful day and well worth it for this “not a morning person” to roll out of bed early. I got my exercise, raised money for a good cause, and reconnected with a friend. Plus new achievement unlocked. I’ve never before participated in an organized 5K walk/run.
Lizzy’s Walk of Faith Foundation was started by the family of Lizzy Wampler, who died of osteosarcoma in 2018. The organization does amazing work in the field of pediatric cancer. Graphic from their website shows where the money goes.
You can, of course, donate without walking or running five kilometers.
Hug your loved ones and then find a way to do some good in the world today.
Today I told my husband I was going on a short bike ride and then didn’t come back for three hours. I didn’t know how much activity I could manage because I woke up with allergy symptoms and a headache. But thanks to OTC medicines and suddenly mild weather, I felt pretty good after I’d been pedaling a short while.
I felt so good, I kept going and made a half day of it, stopping occasionally for water/snack/photo breaks. In fact, I set a new personal record for miles ridden in one day with a 24-mile round trip.
Freida and I made a friend along the way.
Skink investigating.
Curious five-lined skink gets to know Freida
In my quest to have new experiences, I explored a part of the Katy Trail I’d never been down before. It was a lovely, mostly level, mostly shady stretch.
Trailhead / reststop on the Katy TrailPerche Creek
One highlight was when I saw a couple of eagles flying circles in the sky. But I only had my phone camera and couldn’t capture an image.
For many years, I never had the time for this kind of excursion, certainly not to be made on the spur of the moment. I try not to take it for granted.
Up until this month, I had never taken a solo trip except to visit someone, usually a relative. I had developed a burning desire for a little adventure of my own, so I started looking around for something I could afford and do easily in a weekend. I did an internet search for literary landmarks in the Midwest because that’s how I roll. This is how I came to know about the Carl Sandburg Historic Site in Galesburg, Illinois, along with the Songbag Concerts they hold every month. One of my favorite poets! Perfect!
Carl Sandburg birthplace. Humble beginnings.The site of the concert, a comfy and cozy venue — just right for the event.
Musicians Sunshine Regiacorte and Casey Foubert performed the weekend I was there, sharing a mix of original pieces and covers of some folksy tunes. As a bonus, Regiacorte has a series of songs based on Emily Dickinson poems. Sandburg-Dickinson was the literary experience mashup I didn’t know I needed.
I recommend the experience even without the Emily part. Many of the exhibits have as much to do with Sandburg’s political activism as his writing accomplishments. In school, I was taught about the fog coming in on little cat feet. But he had fire in his belly to right the wrongs of worker exploitation and racial injustice.
See this example of a poem about child labor:
They Will Say
Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this: You took little children away from the sun and the dew, And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky, And the reckless rain; you put them between walls To work, broken and smothered, for bread and wages, To eat dust in their throats and die empty-hearted For a little handful of pay on a few Saturday nights.
And then of course, there are his poems about nature and songs in eggs, etc. So his work is multi-layered.
Other delights I found in Galesburg:
A brand spanking new public library building! I respect a community that supports its library.
Brand spankin’ new.
The Galesburg Railroad Museum, where I took a tour of restored rail cars led by a retired third-generation railroad worker. This man knew everything but everything about the history of railroads and how to present it in an engaging way.
An arboretum with a story walk.
Gingko treeUnexpected treasure.
For a town of about 30,000, there was a surprising amount to do. A good time was had by all one of me in the travel contingent.
I signed up for a TV subscription just to be able to watch Olympic events as they are happening rather than already-spoiled clips later on. I’ve enjoyed many of the big, highly-covered competitions. Simone Biles!
But I’ve had the most fun watching some of the action happening in sports that are a little more out on the edges of the limelight. Last Sunday, I managed to catch women’s street skateboarding. I was captivated, folks. Maybe because I dreamed of skateboarding as a teen, but never had a means of acquisition. Maybe because the young champions were so relatable to me. They were dressed for comfort and practicality. There was no focus on their hair or makeup. They were free to pursue the sport they love without the worry of losing points based on such non-athletic components, a path not always as open to women and girls as it should be.
Oh, and the amazing moves and courage. When they fell, it wasn’t onto padding. Watching someone jump and roll down a stair railing on a little wheeled board with no available handholds is a real edge-of-the-seat experience. These athletes were defying gravity. Equally thrilling was seeing a gold medal awarded to 14-year-old Coco Yoshizawa of Japan, knowing I was seeing someone at the beginning of what is sure to be an amazing athletic career.
My son is at it again. He released his game, Happenlance for PC a couple of years ago. I’m happy to report he’s working on a paying contract for someone else right now, and has also adapted his own game for Nintendo Switch, with updates and new features. I’m especially proud because I watched as he went through all of the steps to be approved by Nintendo, which is not easy, it turns out.
I took a short walk around the neighborhood this morning before it got too hot. A number of rabbits were out tending to breakfast, as were many squirrels. Neither animal wants a human to get too close, but they behave in very different ways.
Rabbits tend to freeze in place. Squirrels, on the other hand, turn into frenzied random gymnastics generators in their efforts to escape. Maybe if I run this way! No, wait, turn around! Climb that! No wait, jump to the other thing. Don’t we all know people who act like one or the other?
I’m a rabbit. I can see the thought bubble above this bunny’s head: If I hold completely still and blend into the background maybe the human won’t see me and will leave me alone.
I feel you, little critter. I have been known to do the same thing. “She’s a shy one,” my mother would explain, as I once again hid behind her legs when and adult tried to interact. I don’t dislike other people, just feel overwhelmed by personal interactions sometimes. I guess I need to keep in mind that when people are acting out–like a squirrel–they might have the same feeling but express it differently.
Anyway, it was a pleasant and quiet outing with no human interaction on my part.
32 years ago, I was floundering for a career/life path. After a great deal of self-assessment, I came to an important insight. The public library helped raise me.
Sorry I was gone from blogging for so long. I was busy building a better working world and chasing my dreams. My workplace unionized in May, 2022. Bargaining of our first contract began in October of that year and didn’t conclude until 14 months later, this past December.
Almost to my own surprise, I ended up on the bargaining team. When you’re negotiating a first contract from scratch, that’s the equivalent of working a second job. And I already had a second job! In addition to the at-the-table negotiations, several hours every week were devoted to research and meetings and collaboration on the crafting of articles. All of this part was done outside of paid work time.
But I’m happy to report that our collective bargaining agreement, which took effect January 1, has made life a bunch better in many ways — money, safety, and fairness, among them. For the first time in decades, I’m earning a living wage. I have even been able to quit the side hustle I was working to make ends meet. Wowza! I went from the equivalent of three jobs to one.
But the dream I referenced in my heading isn’t about becoming a union thug. (Ha, ha. I’m one of the least intimidating people you’ll ever meet.) This achievement is a whole other thing, and I’ll drop a hint with some photos.
A representative sample of some of the textbooks I read. Yes, the book in the left corner is relevant to library work – very. much so. I burned through a few highlighters.
Those who have been following me for a while might remember this post from late 2019, in which I shared details of my long journey finishing up my bachelor’s studies through self-directed learning. In one paragraph, I shared my ultimate goal:
“When my youngest was in kindergarten, I got a shelving job at the public library. Things were falling into place. This was the first step toward my new career. I would have an advantage when I got to library school, after finishing my four-year degree.“
Of course, it didn’t quite work out like that, and I had to create my own unique educational path. Once I finished my undergrad at “Nomadic Noesis University,” I had a new plan. I’d promised to help my oldest kid with his move from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest, scheduled for the end of March, 2020. I began studying for the GRE, with the idea I would take the test after fulfilling those obligations to Firstborn. I knew it was a longish shot, but I hoped if I managed a stellar GRE score, I could present that along with my bachelor’s transcript when applying to library school and maybe have at least a prayer of a chance for admittance.
I sincerely apologize to the world’s population for jinxing everything and causing a global pandemic with my “plans.” GRE testing sites became an un-thing pretty quickly. Due to my age, my window for action had shrunk significantly. I realized my dream was over. Or was it?
Hadn’t I just finished homeschooling myself through the final part of an undergrad by finding online syllabi? After a brief period of moping, I put on my big girl britches and decided to do the same for my MLIS.
Here I am, four and 1/2 years on from my last graduation to announce that I did it. I am finished. 32 years ago, I was floundering for a career/life path. After a great deal of self-assessment, I came to an important insight. The public library helped raise me. It was my safe space where I learned essential lessons about the world. I am deeply in love with literature and equally so research. I believe in empowering people and leveling the playing field. What better fits these core principles than library work? I knew my calling.
I followed a long, uphill, circuitous path to get here, but I made it. I lack the symbols — the institution-bestowed degree and the official job title of “librarian.” But I have the real things – the librarian education and the librarian work as an outreach associate (official job title.) I’m even earning a living wage doing it.
Hey, look! I’m back. Soon, I’ll post about what has consumed my time the past several months, but today I want to show everyone some more little art around my neighborhood. I live in such a creative community, I find new pieces around the area all the time in my perambulations.
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This is very near my house. The display changes occasionally.
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Purple iris are in the running for my favorite flower, maybe because my mother loved them. Naturally, I like this stepping stone.
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If you must have a pipe sticking up in your yard, might as well turn it into art.
Get outside for a while if you can. It’s a good place to be.
I achieved my bicycling goal of making it all the way to the nearly 400-year-old bur oak, the one my husband visits every weekend. That’s about a 22-mile round trip. I’ve been working on building my cycling stamina, riding a little farther each outing. Today, I just kept going until I was there. The hubs was kind enough to slow his pace so I could keep up. Then I left for home earlier than he did.
I will admit the last three to four miles of the return trip were a struggle. I imagined myself the subject of one of those old times folk ballads about a person on an arduous journey who makes it through all sorts of hazards, only to drop dead within sight of their destination. But instead, I’m here at my keyboard, writing my own story.
Nomadic Noesis 