Feel like quitting?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Got the day after Labor Day blues? Think of a job or school or volunteer post. Whatever. If you need an excuse, you can always tell them something like this.

  1. I’m tired.
  2. Won Megabucks.
  3. Am about to be beamed up, out of here.
  4. Got a better offer.
  5. Have had enough B.S.
  6. Don’t like the public I’m dealing with or my coworkers or the setting or my surroundings.
  7. Don’t agree with policy.
  8. Can’t live with the dress code.
  9. Just don’t care.
  10. It’s too expensive compared to the pay.

~*~

And here I am, retired.

What would you add as an excuse?

 

On one of the frames

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments
Inside the hive, our honeybees build up honeycomb on frames for their queen to fill with eggs, and then seal it with nutrients and a protective covering. There are 20 of these deep frames in the hive. Our honey will come from another 10 short ones atop the hive. (Photo by Rachel Williams)

 

We’re still questing for a most elusive sauvignon blanc

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 9 Comments

A few more years ago than I’d like to admit, we were enjoying a special dinner in Portland, Maine, where our waitperson recommended a bottle of wine to accompany our dishes. We trusted her enthusiasm and agreed to go a few dollars higher than our usual ceiling.

It was well worth it and, as we learned later, the restaurant was pricing the bottle at retail rather than the usual three- or four-times any store tag. More points.

We took one sip and knew this was like no other white wine we’d had before – or, for that matter, since, not even from the same winery. It must have been a superfine vintage. It had an edge we could only describe as stony – something crisp, clear, sharp. And it did, indeed, enhance our five-star experience.

Trying to find that edge again has become something of an ongoing challenge. We’ve had some fine sauvignon blanc bottles since, but the holy grail remains a quest.

 

My menagerie

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment
There’s a story behind these figures atop one of the bookcases in my studio. The chrome squirrel is also a nutcracker, one my wife found at a yard sale. Squirrels have been a big problem for us, including the ones who have devoured large sections of the crown molding on the barn. You also know about us and rabbits. This one is a bookend, from one direction, or a candle holder, from the other. The upright stick is a piece of driftwood. Oh yes, behind them is a piece of beaver labor, a branch stripped and chewed from both ends.

Missing from his photographic evidence

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As Cassia discovers in my novel What’s Left, her father’s photographic record includes some serious gaps.

One involves a side of the hippie era, especially his experiences going underground in New York City.

As Cassia comments in an earlier draft of the story:

From his photos, I have little to go on regarding the hitchhiking, much less the subways. Not that there aren’t images — they just don’t reveal anything. Maybe it was largely in his mind. Maybe mostly a pipe dream. Entertaining, all the same. And one or the other landed him here.

~*~

Looking back on the era, I wonder how I’d react seeing photos of the people I was with or the experiences we shared. The nude group swimming at the remote lake in the summer? Not nearly as sensuous as I remember? Former lovers? Half of the places I lived have been torn down, as I see from satellite maps. You get the idea.

The time seemed so full of promise.

Tell me about the biggest disappointment you’ve ever had.

~*~

~*~

 

What makes for a memorable getaway?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Getaway? I was about to say vacation. Who am I trying to kid? I’m retired!

Actually, when I was dutifully employed, “vacation” usually meant hunkering down at home to concentrate on my literary enterprises and revision, or maybe even a reading orgy, or taking off to a family or Quaker gathering. T’ain’t quite the same as going fancy free. Still, I managed to get away on some memorable trips.

In this list, I’m ruling out daytrips. Gotta be an overnight, at the least.

Here are ten I remember fondly, sometimes even from repeated visits.

~*~

  1. Appalachian Trail. Backpacking when I was barely 12 was an ordeal. One that’s everlasting deeply imprinted in my soul, especially the mountaintop of blooming rhododendron at the end of our week. What I recall most is the discovery that if you go far enough away from the trailhead, the litter disappears … and then you’re in a whole new, pristine, world.
  2. Fort Warden. The location itself didn’t overwhelm me, even though it overlooked the point where Puget Sound and the Strait of Juan de Fuca come together. I think that was because of all the remaining fortifications. But such incredible waters! The former World War II naval post had become a Washington state park for the arts and hosted a weeklong workshop with some of my favorite poets. Nearby Port Townsend gave us some fun bars for our evenings. The former base is featured in the movie “An Officer and a Gentleman.”
  3. North Cascades National Park. My three times of camping there and a single mountain climb with views of Mount Shuksan included finding gold dust in my dishes as I washed them in a mountain stream that swelled with melting ice during the day. I had no idea how many tall peaks rise in British Columbia till I crested the summit that day and looked north.
  4. San Francisco. It was the southernmost point of a two-week vacation that included North Pacific Yearly Meeting sessions in Olympia, Washington, and camping in the North Cascades. My then-wife and I spent two nights in our sleeping bags in the San Francisco Friends meetinghouse (I think we paid two dollars a day). My introduction to fine Japanese and Thai cuisine came just around the corner. Why haven’t I returned?
  5. Chicago. Repeatedly, each one leaving vivid memories. The art museum alone is worth the trip, but I’ve also spent time high in the Chicago Tribune tower with Pulitzer-winning journalists. The last few visits were helped by having a lover residing in Hyde Park.
  6. Greensboro, North Carolina. It was a genealogy-research trip that then swung northeast to Philadelphia and Brooklyn. I need to go back and see more, now that I know what to expect.
  7. Lake Sebago region. The year before I remarried, I spent a week in October in a rustic cabin on the shore of Crescent Lake in Maine. Cold nights required a wood fire, that sort of thing. Learned to canoe there, too. Guess it was my Walden Pond experience.
  8. Cape Cod. Since the kids’ grandfather lived in Wellfleet, we had a great excuse to visit. It was an easy walk to the ocean and a short drive to Provincetown.
  9. Providence. We found a great deal on a luxury downtown hotel, one where we looked down on the dome of the Rhode Island state capitol. The mattresses alone were enough to make us not want to go anywhere else, but we did enjoy innovative cuisine and easy public transportation. Our strolls along the river and Colonial neighborhoods were enchanting. And then there was our tour of the Slater Mill and the industrial revolution.
  10. Eastport, Maine. To put this in context, we had earlier visited Camden in dead winter and were delighted. But that’s a tony, crowded tourist hive each summer and way out of our league. Ditto for another B&B up the shore in Belfast, when we attended the Common Ground Fair. Our trip to Eastport on a Memorial Day weekend, however, was more inviting. The unpretentious, working-class easternmost city in the U.S. simply felt like the real thing. And yes, the ocean views and fresh seafood were spectacular.

~*~

Where would you suggest? Any great memories?