Tag: Top Ten

Pantry items I consider staples

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

No, not the usual listing of milk, bread, eggs, butter, potatoes – those are givens. Rather, the things special to me you’re not likely to pick up if you’re doing my grocery run.

  1. Olives. Big green stuffed ones, though I love ripe ones as well, elsewhere.
  2. Gin. Where did you think those green olives were going?
  3. Bagels. Or breakfast pastry.
  4. Craisins. They go well in yogurt or on a salad.
  5. Sunflower seeds. On that salad, too.
  6. Cookies and pretzels. Something to snack on.
  7. Garlic. Rather than onion.
  8. Lemons. And limes, for someone special.
  9. Orange juice, or grapefruit. Perk me up in the morning.
  10. Not as frequently but all the same: miso, sesame oil, rice vinegar, almonds.

What’s on your hidden list of essentials?

 

Ways American democracy is increasingly at risk

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Spoiler alert. This is a rant. Here are some of the places I see us as American society being in deep doodah.

  1. Out-and-out lies, delusions, and false expectations “Making America great again” has done the exact opposite. And ideological preconceptions block any reality of what needs to be done. It’s a great sales pitch, but if you’re promising to fix something, you better master the details. Think about making your car or computer or anything else run better and who you’d trust doing the job.
  2. The center is coming apart, along with the breakdown of face-to-face community. Who belongs to a lodge or bowling league or even a church anymore? Without those, just how are our opinions tested and refined? It’s part of a decline of civic awareness and participation.
  3. Refusal to give and take, i.e. compromise, to work out solutions for the common good. Health care is a prime example. Any faults with “Obama-care” can be laid at the feet of those opposed to any health insurance for Americans who didn’t have union jobs or the like. And we know who’s opposed those unions.
  4. Disproportionate representation by rural states. Not just the Senate, either, but especially the Electoral College, which was a faulty way of accommodating Southern slaveholders to begin with.
  5. Disenfranchisement of voters, one way or another. Want to talk about “stealing elections”?
  6. PACs and other big-money corruption, leading to the undermining of the middle class. It’s why the rich are getting richer.
  7. An uninformed electorate, along with the economic collapse of responsible journalism coupled with the tainting of “liberal media” by certain self-interests. Where on earth have the left-wing editorial page columnists been in the past half-century, anyway?
  8. Blaming the victims rather than the super-rich. Talk about “entitlement”? Add to that the myth of the “self-made man.”
  9. The collapse of the tax system. I’m no fan of the Internal Revenue Service, but it’s been gutted to let those with the most to get away scot-free.
  10. Without excusing the left for its too-often sanctimonious airs, I’d say the real threats are coming from an increasingly barbarian right-wing. Or should that be “anarchists”? They’re not conservatives or patriots, OK?

Look, unlike many, I’ve read the Federalist Papers closely, the arguments behind the American Constitution. I can say definitively that MAGA is dead-set against its principles.

Your turn to weigh in. Just be polite.

 

It’s mostly a downward slope, right?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 4 Comments

Ten things I don’t like about growing older:

  1. Fragile skin and easy bruising.
  2. Moles and stray hairs.
  3. Balding and graying.
  4. Forgetfulness.
  5. Sexual withering and incontinence.
  6. Slowing down in general.
  7. Inability to sleep in late. Worse yet, apparently I snore more … and louder.
  8. A receding gum line.
  9. Declining stamina.
  10. Lessened agility and equipoise, too. As for balance?

~*~

What’s hitting you? No matter your age.

 

What you can do with a banana

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

They do come in bunches. Here are some fine uses.

  1. Make a sinful split for dessert.
  2. Or banana bread.
  3. Or a smoothie.
  4. Daiquiris!
  5. Or, with the peel, become a pratfall comedian. (Are they really that slick?)
  6. You can also soak the peel in water to use as indoor plant food.
  7. Or rub it over bug bites, poison ivy, or rashes to relieve itching and promote healing.
  8. Or use the peel to polish leather and silver.
  9. Now, back to the full fruit, we won’t go into what can happen in private.
  10. My favorite? Feed ’em to a bunny! Which gives us more peels.

Get used to driving to Bangor if you wanna live here

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Bangor, a 2½-hour drive from Eastport, is our closest metropolis this side of Canada. And getting there or back can be a bear in winter. Oh, yes, you need to keep your eye out so you don’t hit a bear. There’s even a lodge along the way that touts the services of a bear-hunt guide.

The city itself is about the size of Dover, New Hampshire – roughly 30,000 population, but unless we cross the border to St. John, New Brunswick, it still has the closest:

  1. Interstate highway.
  2. Major hospital and specialists.
  3. Airline flights.
  4. Mall and many big-name, big-box stores.
  5. Daily newspaper.
  6. Array of ethnic restaurants.
  7. Cineplex.
  8. Synagogue.
  9. Greek Orthodox church.
  10. Toyota dealer.

Smaller Ellsworth, gateway to Acadia National Park, is about the same distance to the south. It also offers some respite as a civilized alternative.

 

In case you’re considering a pet rabbit

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 6 Comments

You’ve been seeing our duo, Salty and Pepper. Before that were Boo, especially, and Widgeon.

Now, for some details on the species.

  1. Officially, they’re lagomorphs, though we find their chewing habits resemble rodents – you know, beavers, when it comes to wood. You’ve been warned.
  2. Existing as an animal of prey, meaning a food source, makes them skittish. Boo, though, came to be a lap rabbit, sitting for hours in her someone special’s lap.
  3. In short spurts, they can zip along at up to 45 miles an hour. As ours do when they’re first out of their cage in the morning.
  4. In general, they’re silent. They don’t bark or meow or anything like that, though Salty has a whiffling snore while dozing. You’d think she’s in pain, but she’s not.
  5. They’re meticulously clean and can be potty trained, like a cat.
  6. Their ability to jump straight up, from all four legs, and twist and spin about in the air is called binky.
  7. Born covered in fur, they can run from the start.
  8. Their teeth and nails never stop growing.
  9. They cannot vomit, which requires us to be careful in what we feed them. Even when they seem to eat almost everything we offer them. That, by the way, has been an incentive for more attentive weeding on my part. Those weeds suddenly become bunny treats, and watching those greens be so assiduously devoured is quite amusing.
  10. They’re cute and soft, mostly.

 

Ways this move was easier than others in my life

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I’m not counting the few times I relocated across town. I mean the big moves, from one state to another, even from one part of the country to another.

You already know my fondness for Dover – and I have been intensely loyal to some of the locales I’ve made home but not others – yet this transfer of fidelity has been rather startling in its speed.

Dover? That was the address I had longest anywhere, edging out my native Dayton. Yet the 300-mile leap from Dover to Eastport was a breeze in comparison to the others I’d done. It’s rather perplexed both my wife and me.

Here are a few factors.

  1. We needed to downsize, and our house and garden and stuffed barn were more than we could keep up with. Quite simply, they were weighing on us, not just emotionally but especially when we looked at our bank balance.
  2. I had been to Eastport. Apart from Dover, where I had been worshiping as a Quaker, the previous moves had dropped me in as a total stranger. I hadn’t even visited Indiana University until showing up as a student in the middle of my sophomore year. Well, there was my return as a research associate, this time with a wife and a duplex rental on the other side of town. I hadn’t even been to Binghamton, New York, for a job interview.
  3. Eastport had a few things I was anticipating. Quoddy Head State Park had rekindled a sense of wilderness I’d left behind in the Pacific Northwest 40 years earlier. And the local choir had a repertoire much like our Revelsingers in Boston. Plus, I had been to the small Quaker Meeting and worked in projects with one of its outstanding members.
  4. I wasn’t alone. Eastport started out as my elder daughter’s wild dream, soon supported by my wife. Where else could we afford to live so close to the ocean? Back to downsizing, but as a whole-family venture. No more Lone Ranger sans Tonto, even if I was coming up as the vanguard. Their visits were festive occasions.
  5. We weren’t doing it all in one fell swoop but rather in stages. For the first four months, I was commuting back to New Hampshire almost weekly as we prepared our old house to market – meaning largely decluttering and cleaning. On this end, we still need to make renovations before filling this place with goods now in storage. Frankly, I’m enjoying doing more with less.
  6. Emotionally, Covid had already distanced me from many connections. I wasn’t swimming daily, for one thing, so that part of my routine wasn’t severed. I hadn’t even seen my pool buddies or the lifeguards for the better part of a year. We Quakers were worshiping and conducting business by Zoom, and I could keep that connection going a while longer. I was even getting together monthly online with Dover’s religious leaders and a Seacoast writers’ schmooze.
  7. Being in the middle of a big writing project gave me a crucial focus and meant the solitude on this end was welcome. Normally, access to libraries would be essential to what I was investigating, but I found rare resources in my computer searches and downloads. Yes, times have changed.
  8. There was no accompanying sense of failure or betrayal. My job hadn’t been terminated or taken an unacceptable turn – gee, that could lead to another Tendrils! (You know, the modern American workplace – see my novel Hometown News for examples.) I didn’t even have a new job to confront – what a relief! My lover hadn’t just dumped me or failed to reconnect when I arrived, and I wouldn’t be searching for love, either. Nor had I left paradise for an industrial or suburban wasteland.
  9. I’ve enjoyed exploring with an eye for what I’d introduce to the others on their visits. And meeting some fascinating new folks, likewise. I still feel I’m living in a real-life Northern Exposure.
  10. Well, there were moments of feeling exiled, like “What have I done wrong,” but they were soon countered by reclaiming some of my independence. I’d gotten spoiled, as far as food goes, and not really cooked anything for two decades, other than lighting the grill or popping something in the microwave. (Well, there was a fried rice that impressed one of our Chinese guests.) But now our morning phone calls have included cooking advice and insights. That sort of thing. I’ve been pleased with my dinners, even the ones I wouldn’t serve anyone else, should I have to. As for exile? Nah, I’ve never felt more comfortable anywhere.

Ten things about the leading lady in my life

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Quite simply, she’s the coolest woman I’ve ever known. Warts and all. Now for some details.

  1. She’s an idealist while having no tolerance for b.s.
  2. Witty, even caustic, but never cruel. The truth, however, can sting.
  3. Much smarter than me, and better read, though knowing everything can be a problem. In other words, she remembers everything, especially what I’ve done wrong.
  4. I love watching her, the way she moves, the twinkle in her eye, the perplexed twist of her lips while solving a problem. Oh, yes, and her long, long hair.
  5. Has an artsy, natural style that leans toward earth-tones, folk sources, and simplicity.
  6. She’s frugal but generous.
  7. Has never been remunerated in just compensation to her societal contributions. If she were, we’d be living in high style.
  8. Is one of the world’s great cooks. And that extends to the garden, though she rarely has time for the weeding. The problem is, neither do I.
  9. Is gifted in spades with empathy. Only she can’t understand why the rest of us can be so lacking in it.
  10. Should have been an astronaut.

National parks I’ve truly enjoyed

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I have to confess to how many of America’s national parks remain on my to-visit list. But I still have some favorites among the ones I’ve explored. They don’t have to be massive to still be impressive.

  1. Rainier, Washington: Most of all. It’s top of the list for reasons I’ve described elsewhere on this blog. Living a few hours away, I had four years of exposure to this glacier-clad beauty and its forests below.
  2. North Cascades, Washington: Geologically some of the most incredible mountains in the continental U.S., along with rewarding hiking and camping. Some of our best beat-era poets were forest fire lookouts on its remote summits in the ’50s and ’60s.
  3. Smokey Mountains, Tennessee-North Carolina: I was nine or ten or so when we ventured down from Ohio. We weren’t yet doing family-camping, but there were some wild experiences with cheap motels. But then, when we got to the park, how could I not be blown away? So this is what mountains were!
  4. Lowell, Massachusetts: I’ve blogged about our daytrip to this pioneering industrial community and its water-powered textile mills. Try to time it so you can also take a ride down the canals through the mills and out to the Merrimack River.
  5. Cuyahoga Valley, Ohio: This meandering swath of greenery along the Cuyahoga River in the former Connecticut Western Reserve corner of the Buckeye State is a touch of sanity within a populous region. It even includes some decent waterfalls. The Cleveland Orchestra’s summer home is nearby.
  6. Acadia, Maine: The rugged Downeast coastline starts here, more or less, and there’s nowhere else so much of it is available to the public.
  7. Olympic, Washington: It’s the heart of a unique realm worthy of a Tendril of its own, as well as a longpoem you can get at my Thistle Finch blog.
  8. Mammoth Cave, Kentucky: The world’s longest known cave system, only part of it is open to public tours, but what is shown includes spectacular geologic formations and chambers.
  9. Crater Lake, Oregon: It’s impressive but usually seen as an auto circuit around the volcanic crater of what was once mighty Mount Mazama. The lake sits at 6,178 feet above sea level.
  10. Everglades, Florida: To appreciate this ecological system, you need to take a guided boat tour into its vegetation and zoological wonders. This is the real Florida, almost surreal. Well, compared to much of the commercial development throughout the state, maybe a better adjective is needed.

~*~

There are many more, awaiting personal discovery. So what are your favorites?

Lowell, 1850

Ten great loves in my life

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

What, you were expecting sexy lovers? That’s a whole different story, maybe best left for my fiction.

  1. Symphonic music. Well, quickly extending to chamber music and opera and then even jazz.
  2. Quaker practice and culture.
  3. The great outdoors. Wilderness, especially.
  4. The Cascades range as I explored it, most of all.
  5. Seafood, fresh asparagus, real tomatoes.
  6. The sea. Surf. Lighthouses.
  7. Holy wonder. The natural high, if you will.
  8. Autumn foliage.
  9. The soul mate who turned out to be false. She still haunts me, all the same. I think it was all the shared aspirations that really got me.
  10. The color blue.

~*~

What do you really love? Make that who, if you desire.