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I never expected to be quite this busy since enrolling in a few OLLI classes. So on Tuesday, Arizona Statehood Day and Valentine’s Day, my plan was to head over to the historical museum in Cottonwood in plenty of time for the bell-ringing ceremony at exactly 2:14 pm. At 2pm I had just shut off my computer and went to get my camera. Replace “get” in that last sentence with “search for.” By 2:10 I was still searching for it. I had 4 minutes to make it to the museum, and that was going to be impossible. So, with my class starting at 2:30, I headed instead toward Yavapai College with my car window rolled down. Of course, it was a cloudy and very chilly day, but I figured all the church bells and bell ringers would make themselves easy to hear. Not so. And that’s how I missed the 100th anniversary celebration of my newly adopted state, Arizona. Mighty young,considering the other states’ celebrations of 2 centuries. But Arizona, being the wild, wild west, had to overcome its reputation before Congress would admit it to the Union. So, it was the last state (the 48th) in the continental US to join. Alaska was our 49th, followed by Hawaii.

Because of my Talking Landscapes class’ focus on regional poetry, I am in process of compiling my first poetry chapbook. I have an artist in mind to help illustrate it, and I am not going to give away the topic of the poetry quite yet. Let’s just say that it’s a place I’m very familiar with and have held a passion for since childhood.

Classes will end in 2 weeks. Then a break and another round of 6-week classes will begin. In my Inside Creativity class, I have been introduced to a team of playrights, an author of mysteries with a metaphysical bent, a fiber artist, a storyteller-troubador-author-environmentalist-musical theatre, jazz artist and former Hollywood movie extra, and for next week, we will meet a creative chef from Sedona. The class will continue next quarter with 5 or 6 new creatives telling us about their work. Meanwhile, I got to know a little more about my classmates. One is a couple from Grand Rapids wintering in Sedona. She is a tech writer of stained glass art books and magazines, and he is a glassblower. Another fella is a former New York City corporate consultant who moved here to develop his underused right brain. Every where I turn around I meet someone new and interesting.

I’ve been carrying around my camera, but no new pictures to show you yet. At least I finally made this new entry into the blog.

Until next time, happy trails to you

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Here in the Verde Valley, we’ve had numerous presentations and history lessons. Today I learned a little about the Arizona Rangers, one of many programs being offered this year for curious folks who want to learn their state’s history.

I’ll tell you more about the rootin’ tootin’ cowboys who rounded up cattle rustlers and other outlaws in a later post. I have to find my bell for Tuesday’s bell-ringing at exactly 2:14 p.m. mountain time. This is something residents will be doing throughout the state, as well as celebrating a piece of birthday cake.

Image via Wikipedia

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I have not posted much lately because of a current time crunch–not totally unexpected. In addition to Monday’s Meals on Wheels deliveries, I go workout at Curves and then prepare for one of several OLLI classes I am taking. OLLI stands for Osher Lifelong Learning Institute and it is offered here through Yavapai College.

I have completed a Treasure Mapping workshop led by a Jungian therapist and graduate of Stanford. I have completed a Feng Shui for Health workshop taught by a brilliant practitioner from L.A. via Philly, Paris France, and other parts of the globe. I am currently in 3  six-week classes: Talking Landscapes, which follows an informal Haiku style. My subject is the Indiana Dunes. Another class is the Science of Happiness, based on the newer trend in mental health to focus on the positive and made famous by Martin Seligmann from the U of Pennsylvania. Last but not least, I am taking a course called Inside Creativity, where each week a different artist is interviewed about his/her creative process.  So, my head is bursting with great new information and ideas, and I am one happy camper!

In my Feng Shui class, I discovered that the woman sitting next to me grew up in Miller, Indiana (a part of Gary). This is the second time I have been in Sedona when I’ve met someone from a place I used to live. The other person is from Freeport, IL close to Galena, and we have discovered mutual acquaintances. The OLLI Sedona campus–really just a building, is a gorgeous architectural spectacle. Nicer than the Cottonwood campus of several buildings with odd (to me) outside doors to the classrooms.

I will write more as time allows–got to run. It’s Monday!

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The current environmental debate here in AZ is whether to mine the uranium-rich land too squeaky close to the Grand Canyon, or to leave our national park as is, without disturbing the surrounding lands. Someone in state government said that the amount or ore that could be mined would keep the lights on in Phoenix for the next 300 years.

Lest we forget, the terrible tsunami that hit Japan last year wreaked havoc on  its nuclear power plants that were supposedly immune to earthquakes before the damage hit. Out of the mainstream media reports 14000 infant deaths in the U.S. last year due to the nuclear meltdown–now said to be on the same level as Chernobyl. This information came from www.naturalnews.com.

We don’t expect a tsunami to hit anywhere near the Grand Canyon. But then, over in Holbrook about 75 miles away is the big hole in the ground, the meteor crater that people stop to see.  Bottom line is, this conundrum: keep Arizona in power for centuries to come, or keep the  Grand Canyon protected from potential damage. What camp are YOU in?

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I drove over yesterday. It takes about an hour to get there, whether one takes I-17 or goes over the mountain on 89A. I opted for the freeway, despite the warm weather and little chance of hitting bad weather. I had mixed emotions about serving on the Grand Jury. I really wanted to, but have been concerned about potential winter weather conditions. So when the judge asked if anyone wanted to be excused, I stood up. Despite my plea, she made me stay through the selection process. The potential jurors’ backgrounds were interesting and the whole process was an experience I enjoyed.

When I got the summons, my first thought was that now I have to go to Prescott–other things got in the way of a trip over there, and I really, really like the town. The feel is indeed very midwestern. The courthouse is historic, and so was the courtroom we were in–very high ceilings, bad acoustics, terribly  uncomfortable wooded folding seats. Looked like Perry Mason would walk in any second.

Turns out I was excused from  jury duty. I would not hesitate if I lived closer, like in Prescott. The hearing would go on for months, through April or possibly later, and a juror would be driving there every Wednesday. Fine if the weather was as nice as today. Prescott is higher than Cottonwood, so it’s colder and gets more snow. I could not take a chance, unless I could carpool. I hope I am called for jury closer.

A last word: having just moved here seven months ago, I was surprised to get called so early in my new residence. This would be the very first time. But, it was nice to get out of town and enjoy some time in Prescott–”everybody’s hometown.”

Image by Ken Lund via Flickr

The furnace went out last Saturday, but it was fixed before nightfall, when the temps dropped. Because I had to wait for the repairman, I missed the Computer Club potluck and the Verde Voices holiday concert. But I did manage to pick up Brian Sunday so we could attend the Mt. Hope Foods-sponsored concert at Mingus High School. We both enjoyed the juggler, bluegrass, country, classical and choral mix–local talent from the Verde Valley, Prescott and Flag were performing. I am impressed with the high school auditorium–nice stadium seats and room for most of Cottonwood’s citizens.

Tuesday evening, carolers were invited to gather at the gazebo in Clarkdale to sing. About two dozen people showed up on this frosty evening. The Lions Club provided hot cider and chocolate. The lights of Jerome twinkled down on us as our eclectic and not-always-in-tune voices shouted from the foothills that the little Christ child had been born.

Imagine my surprise when I found an Ernie Pyle book at the Clarkdale, AZ library. Oh wait. You can’t. I don’t often talk about my fondness of Ernie Pyle’s work, and unless you are an Indiana newspaperperson or read the newspapers during World War II, you might not have heard of him.

Years ago I visited this famous Hoosier’s home in Dana, Indiana, which as I remember was Northwest of Terre Haute. But his home in town was not his true boyhood home–he lived in the country during his earlier years. And years before ever visiting Dana, I planned my future destiny by imagining myself writing news copy at Ernie Pyle Hall at Indiana University’s campus. When in high school, I did spend a week at Ernie Pyle Hall during a journalism conference. When I was a freshman at IUB, I started as a journalism major but changed over to Slavic Studies. It was a dumb move on my part and I suffered four years of hard studying because of it. But then, I digress.

I own an original copy of Ernie Pyle’s War, when the journalist served behind the lines writing about the soldiers he met and lived with during those terrible years. Now I can read Ernie’s take of his stay in the southwest. His “nephew” Bob Bales penned the book’s illustrations. All this feels like discovering an old friend among the stacks of books in the little Clarkdale library.

I will leave you today with this quote from Ernie:

“Phoenix and Tucson do not seem to me to be part of the southwest. They are too Chamber-of-Commerce, too resort. You might as well go to Miami Beach as to Tucson.”

ngus Mountain has a sugary coating this sunny December (15th) day. This shot was taken at the entrance/exit to the community where I live. The Christmas season is in full swing here, with luncheons and parties and musical offerings and Santa appearances. One recent event that had less to do with Christmas and more to do with celebrating Arizona’s history was the annual Clarkdale Tour of Historic Homes. I’m saving much of that story for an article I’ll be submitting to The Beacher, but let’s just say that it was waaay different from any midwestern home tours I had taken. Arizona celebrates its 100th anniversary of statehood in 2012, so there are plenty of upcoming events to anticipate.

Those of you back home may be familiar with Shipshewanna’s giant flea market in Amish country. Well, this Arizona version, which in no way has an affiliation with the Amish, is bigger, but in a suburban location instead of gentle green countryside. Mesa’s version hosts 1600 vendors under a canopied semi-indoor concrete-floored market. And the vendors were gratuitously friendly when they wanted you to open your wallet; indifferent to you otherwise. Mesa was experiencing a chilly 58 degrees and I almost, almost bought me a “bargain” fleece jacket with wolves on the front just to keep warm. But I resisted and just hugged myself and walked faster to keep warm. A bowl of rather decent chicken soup sold at one of the pop stands helped keep the chill at bay for a little while. Imagine tromping around the length of four football fields (1 1/2 miles) for four hours.

I had been given some bum information about how to navigate the rows, only to discover that the best stuff (American-made, with care) was near the end where our bus was waiting to whisk us back to Cottonwood. I was looking for a few potential presents, and some decorative items for the garden. My “garden” is graced with bonafide artistic sculpture, hand-made by real artists. There were plenty of Kokopellis, Lizards, Suns, whirly things, shiny things, tinkly things, until I came upon a booth that offered some Chihuly-like blown-glass yard ornaments. I wanted one of each, but purchased none. They were the nicest things I saw the whole time I was window-shopping. But I did purchase some German-made solar-powered bugs and blooms to plant in my front yard. They light up and change colors at night. A neighbor has a row of dragonflies similar to what I brought home, and when I walk at dusk, I am enchanted by those dragonflies.

On our way home we stopped at the Rock Springs Cafe. Those of you who followed by Arizona travel articles in the Beacher might remember my writing about this famous pie place. That was at least ten years ago. Today the cafe is known for its cream pies, not all its pies. That did not stop me from bringing back an apple crumb pastry.

There is snow on the mountain, rain down here in the valley, and lots of television news about Flagstaff’s six inches. Big deal. But it’s looking and feeling more like Christmas and thank goodness I’m home and away from the Mesa Market madness.