pictures

Last night, I promised to upload a few pics of the Santa Fe Christmas eve celebrations. They are above.

First is the Spirit of Christmas. She gave out candy canes and was gracious to all.

Next down is a tree that one of the galleries decorated with lights.

The third photo is of one of the pieces at a gallery. The owner gave permission to photograph it. I want some of the Arkanas artists to see and get ideas for new work. This one is very complex. The iron is formed first. The four glass blowers use their pipes to form the glass inside. Because the iron is such a good heat sink, someone has to keep it to temperature where the glass approaches or touches it.

The last picture is a blurry one of the luminaria. Traditionally, these are candles in paper bags that have sand in the bottom. Because the candles burn out, many people use electric lights in brown plastic wrappings to simulate them. One of the galleries that used the traditional method had trouble with the candles burning out. One of their volunteers stayed outside, tending the bonfire and replacing candles.

The people last night were so friendly and helpful. It made me think that the spirit is alive and well. There was a warm, community feeling in spite of the cold temperature.

Thank you Santa Fe.

Christmas Eve

It's that time of year. This time was even better than most. As usual, we were with our daughter and grandchildren in Los Alamos. We had Christmas eve dinner with a friend of long years who had recently returned to New Mexico. She and her family hosted us in a pot luck at her home in Santa Fe.

Our friend lives about a block from Canyon Road. If you've never been in Santa Fe, Canyon is where many art galleries are located. All of them feature excellent things, from sculpture to painting to ceramics and mixed media. I took some pictures (with the gallery owner's permission) and will post them when I get a little more time.

The special thing about this area is that about five in the afternoon, streets are closed off to vehicular traffic. Gallery owners put up Christmas lights, especially the luminaria that are unique to this part of the US. Most corners sport bonfires surrounded by happy people who warm themselves and take part in singing Christmas carols (like Little Town of Bethlehem or It Came Upon a Midnight Clear) and Christmas songs (eg. I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas or Jingle Bells). It doesn't matter if everyone knows the words since those who do carry those who don't through the parts they have forgotten.

Of course, many of the galleries are open. Some serve hot coffee or cider. People can walk through, talk to the owners and, in some cases, the artists. Many of the works you can see are museum quality.

On the street, hot food is sold as well as hot drinks. People dressed for the winter parade up and down as they admire the windows or walk into the galleries. There were even some who dressed in Victorian clothing and gave out candy canes or led carols. One gallery had a blues singer who played the harmonica and had a toptoppy drum accompaniest. Another had a classical guitarist who played beautiful classical and Spanish music. He talked to some of the amateur guitarists who visited and gave hints on technique.

The way home was lovely. The snow of yesterday had been cleared from the highways but remained on the lawns and vistas. A bright half moon illuminated things. Of course, many houses were decorated with lights, both the traditional luminaria (or feralitos) and colored lights and yard sculptures. Although I was tired, the views were so enchanting that I could not close my eyes. I'm wired enough to finish this, but not to transfer the photos from my camera. Later.

Merry Christmas to all. My heartiest good wishes for the coming year.

A quiet week

So what do you write when everything is normal?

Don't get me wrong. Normality is good; it's restful. But same old just doesn't have the zip that new, exciting adventures do.

The first thing I do is go out and take pictures in the garden. You are looking at a photo of a daddy long legs strolling on the leaves of a purple cone flower. I always thought that they were black. This one is light brown.

The weather here is been fine. After one of the wettest Octobers on record, November has been dry, sunny and mild. That has helped a lot. Trees have been dropping their leaves like it was autumn (it is.) The dry spell has let me catch up with clearing some of the gardens of leaves. That has its objectionable parts too. See my post before this one.

The weather has some plants confused. I found a daisy, a spring bloomer in a protected spot around the Master Gardener project I work (Curran Hall.) Spider wort is reblooming and the Indian blanket flowers and zinnias in my last post are still brightening the landscape. A couple of daffodils have stuck their noses out of the dirt. That is not all good. Even though daffies have some antifreeze in their sap, a hard freeze will kill them and diminish their normal, spring glory.

Our local news is full of the trial of the man accused (now convicted) of raping and murdering a very nice young reporter, Anne Presley. I thought it was just here colleagues on the station where she worked, but every station is full of it tonight. There are a lot of things happening here in Arkansas. I think that too much time is spent, not just on the trial, but on retrospectives of her life. She was, as I said, a nice girl. Her death is a useless tragedy. It seems to me that all of this attention is slightly morbid and does not serve the community as news.

My office is piled knee-high with stuff to be sorted. Some should be tossed, some sent to storage and some shelved where I can get to it. Maybe next week.

I bought a copy of "The Oxford English Dictionary Thesaurus" last week. After studying it for several days, I still can't find the words I want. The thing consists of two large books and a poster sized guide to the thesaurus. Words are listed in groupings like society, animal and the like. But the poster seems to have different group numbers than the guide book, which has different numbers than the actual thesaurus. It's a disappointment. I do so love dictionaries.

I once bought an English Swahili dictionary. It was a theory of mine that Edgar Rice Burroughs used Swahili for the language of the great apes. Looks like I was wrong. Oh well. We learn as much from failed experiments as we do from those whose results agree with our predictions.

apologies to Kurt Weil

Oh it is garden time

From May to December.

But the leaves fall down

When it is September.

And the golden leaves

Are blown all around.

It is time to rake

and a leaf pile make.

If you couldn't guess from the last two photos and the pastiche of September Song, I raked leaves most of today. Part of them are mulched and placed around winter sensitive plants and the rest are still piled, like the song says.

I left them on the lawn so the neighbor kids could jump in them and not get hurt. The ones I mulched were on the driveway and that concrete skins knees when roughly contacted.

Leaf raking is a restful way to spend a pretty day. The weather was wonderful and the autumn flowers were happily blooming in our garden. The first four pictures are variations of the Indian blanket flower. That is usually a summer bloomer. Our fall weather has been so mild that they have continued apace.

The three photos before the leaves are a whirling butterfly guara, pineapple sage and a cosmo.

The birds were singing too. Even the crows seemed to be trying to caw musically. Lovely day, somewhat dusty, but really terrific.

A lonely grave?

On my way home from St. Louis, I passed, then did not pass a spot that had been intriguing me for years. This time, I turned around and returned for a close look.

You can see why this lonely site interested me. There, with a pine tree and some flags for company was some kind of marker stone. I had been passing it each time I drove to and from St. Louis, about four times each year and had gone my way, wondering.

The new highway was being built opposite the site. It and the wall holding that majestic pine and earth had been left. The highway builders may have felt the same kind of mystery and awe that held me there for more than a few minutes.

Was this a grave? Had some soldier fallen, been buried and stayed on that spot? Perhaps it is a memorial to those thousands of men, on both sides, who had been mutilated past recognition in the battles of that war. Perhaps the body of a soldier, uniform torn beyond identification had been found there and the stone memorialized the place.

A Boy Scout troop in a nearby town maintains the marker. I guess they refresh the flags and flowers I found there. I salute them for caring beyond most of us. I wish that I could tell that unknown what I waited 20 years to hear: "Welcome home."

Short and sweet: Today, I found a toad lily in our garden (several really). It was growing in the partial shade loved by the Japanese anemone and astilbe.

The toad lily is a native plant in Arkansas and found in other places where the great prairie formerly ruled.

Ridiculous

This image is a poster painted by Sigfried Reinhardt. It is copyrighted so don't reproduce it.

If it seems a little ridiculous, good. That's the title of this blog after all.
I love the new styles. The oversized trousers and baggy shirts remind me of the photos I have seen of "zoot suits" that were fashionable with young people before WWII. They went out of style when cloth rationing came as part of the war effort. But, some of these things have their disadvantages. For example, there is this quote from the Houston Chronicle from July 23 of this year:

"Police say an 18 year-old carjacker approached August Peters, 74, as he exited his vehicle. "Give me your car or I'll kill you," the carjacker said, putting a knife to Peter's throat. Luckily for Peters, he had an item that made him the physical equal of his youthful adversary -- a firearm. Peters grabbed his pistol from inside the car and fired, striking the carjacker at least once. The suspect fled through a nearby home, struggling to run in his baggy pants, which fell off in the kitchen as he ran for the back door. Police caught up with the pantless suspect nearby."

The title of this particular blog applies to that and to those silly fashions which insist that a man's underwear show over his trousers. The super baggy pants and shorts remind me of a baby whose diaper is full. They hang in that suggestive way and I smile. Youth will out, they say. The quote says that isn't all that will out.

The fact is, we're a pretty silly race, us humans. I suspect that is one of the reasons the Gods haven't just given up and started over. Look at all the fuss we get into as a result of sex. A man and a woman or two of either sex take a look at what is available to them, make a choice then decide whether to marry or live together. Before long one or the other or both start looking around again. They often decide that a little variety in partners is what the doctor ordered. It's decisions that let divorce lawyers get rich and fill the dockets of the civil (not really) courts. So we don't know our own minds. And most of the time, we don't take the time to explore inside ourselves to find out if we're really in love forever or just looking for a little security and love.

Even those couples who don't cheat and stay together (after all, infidelity is only one of the reasons for divorce) have trouble communicating with each other. Those troubles have given comics almost infinite material to make us laugh or at least grin sympathetically. If it isn't communication problems, it's the insecurity of one partner or both that makes for fights and someone ending up sleeping on the couch instead of next to their partner of choice.

We get terribly excited about things that haven't happened yet. We grab a small slice of something and make it into a huge to do. Look at the health care arguments that are currently in the media. I have to ask myself if any of the people shouting in meetings have read the proposed legislation. I tried, but the darned thing is over a thousand pages long. I'm not a lawyer. Neither am I endlessly patient with legalese. So I, like most of us have to make do with what people tell me is in the bill. When I get two or three or a dozen different takes on what's there, I get confused.

It's the same about our president. Folk are accusing others, who disagree with one or more of his statements, of being prejudiced against blacks. (Oh, is that politically okay? I know that negro is absolutely out and that African American is better. By the way, everyone with dark skin isn't African or American. So label me insensitive. If it isn't a really insulting epithet, it should be inoffensive.) Unhappily, there are people around who are prejudiced against anyone whose skin is darker (or lighter) than their own. Another example of ridiculous.

But my favorite example of "what you say?" is computers and cell phones. How many times have you asked yourself, "why do I have to press the off button to turn this thing on?"

late summer in the garden

While my daughters were here, I lamented about the sad state of blooms in late August and early September. They laughed and said the garden looked pretty good to them. So I walked out this afternoon to document some blooms. Alas, I was too late for the magnificent thistle we found, but there were quite a few others.


azaleas

Along with the goldfish above, we found a cute, little garden snake who was sharing the pond with the fish. He/she/it(?) had also staked out a couple of rocks upstream where (pronoun of your choice) could stick its head up and survey all goings on. I haven't been lucky enough to get a picture yet.


knockout roses

Indian blanket flowers

Dahlia

zinnia

love lies bleeding

wild onion

And I have no idea what this one is.

I had been so busy looking for holes in the foliage that I missed the flowers that were there. I guess there's a lesson in that. Treasure what you have.

By the way, if you recognize the above 'wonder what' please leave a note here.

A book review

I have just finished a remarkable novel. While I did not start this blog to review what I read, I like this one enough to want it shared.
LIFELODE by Jo Walton
NEFSA Press, Framingham, MA
hard cover
published February, 2009
ISBN - 1: 1-886778-82-5 other versions are available

The first thing I noticed about LIFELODE was the language. It is as simple as a peasant farmer's narrative would be. But imbedded in that language are words and concepts that were irresistible to me. First was the thought of a world in which the use of a force (yeya) is easier in one direction than another. Where it is easy, people join with gods. Where difficult, without the use of this force, people would become as automatons. Time is also different in the two directions, moving slowly in one and quickly in the other. The story is based in a village located between the two extremes.

While the story is essentially a fantasy, there are strong elements of science fiction in it. The world in which it takes place is Not Here. Things work differently. There are strong hints that people (or beings) from outside it made the world and then migrated to it. It is also theorized that when the originators came, they were gods and people slowly moved away from them, in the process having less yeya to use, but more independence of thought... to a point.

I mentioned language. I confess that I was hooked by the first paragraph. But I was wowed by part of an exchange explaining just what Lifelode was:
"...It's how you survive, how you put food on the table, and beyond that it's what moves your soul. It's not just the lode of your life, the seam you will mine, and not just the direction your life points in, it's also the load you'll carry through it. It isn't something you can just work out in a minute..."

The story is told in a present, but flexible tense. Things logically move into past perceptions and events. People see shadows of both past and future. That is a part of what makes the characterization so strong. By the end of the first chapter, I was involved in the lives of two of the major characters. By the end of the fourth, I was concerned with the entire extended family.

The plot takes the family and pushes three characters into it. First is the former lady of the manor, great-grandmother to the present lord. She left the family to go east where time goes slowly and learn yeya. She returns with a secret that is pursuing her. The second is a scholar who loves women easily and falls in love with two of the family wives. The third is a priest of a god pursuing the first and ruthlessly using anyone she can to accomplish her mission. She uses the scholar to sow discord into the family. When she is defeated, the goddess sends an heir of a former lord with armed men to reclaim what he believes to be his birthright.

It is more complicated than that, and more enchanting. But each word, each sentence solidifies the characters and adds to the story. This is the first book of Jo Walton's I have read. I'm going to buy and read everything of hers I can find.

renovation finished

For the past four months, our house has been home to both us and various contractors as we remodeled the guest rooms we maintain for visitors. The old bath was a 1960's small one for teenaged boys. The new bath has been designed for luxury and so that our friends won't want to leave. We also redecorated the bedrooms.
Pictures are above.
Our daughters quality tested the suite and it meets with their approval.
In addition to the guest suite, we tiled the hall. This will make cleaning easier. We tended to track dirt into the carpet on our way from the doors to the kitchen and back.
The contractors were uniformly nice and cooperative. A couple of them had worked with us on other projects.
But at last our home is ours again. Now we await guests.

various thoughts on different things

I'm in St. Louis for the third time this summer. The drive from Little Rock was, for the most part uneventful. But there were a few close calls I saw from impatient drivers who did not wait for a clear sight distance to pass slower vehicles. That reminded me of a couple of days ago when I was almost hit head-on by a driver who swerved into oncoming traffic (on a four lane road) to pass another car.

That incident made me think of other times that my life could have been ended. Most of these times were the result of either luck or split-second decisions on my part or someone else. Examples: I fell once and my head missed a sharp protruding rock by inches; There was an accident at a plant where I was working, before I could go to check on people, someone handed me a gas mask (the accident was a leak in an ammonia tank). Onthese occasions, it was just one little thing that meant the difference for me.

Science fiction writers have thought about these decision points that change a life, sometimes, a world. Would WWII have come about if Hitler had died during WWI? If Moses had turned right instead of left, would Israel have all the oil? The theory proposed by the writers referred to in the first sentence of this paragraph is that each time we make a decision, our world moves onto a different track. The movement and our consciousness move, but on another track, an "us" makes a different decision and so on. Naturally, if some of the movers and shakers of history had not existed, our world might have been quite different. One good friend, John Dalmas explored what the world might have been like if the Normans had lost the battle of Hastings in 1066. He has not written that yet. But I'm looking forward to the result when he does.

If you want to try some of these "what if" histories" look for Harry Harrision, Harry Turtledove or just search under "alternate history".

I watched the crops as I was driving north yesterday. It reminded me that my wheat was in the elevator and had been sold. Last year, there was a huge price spike during harvest. I think it was caused by the use of corn to make gasahol (is that the right spelling?) The demand for the one grain lifted the price of alternate food grains like wheat, rice etcetera.

I had confidently predicted to a friend that the corn demand would have no impact on the poor of the third world. Boy, was I wrong. Even though the demand for corn is still great, the markets have adjusted to a more level phase. That is what makes commodity dealers rich and why I do not even try to play in the commodity market. Of course, the stock market recently underwent some confidence shaking moves. The difference is that you can hold a stock until its price goes back up or the company goes out of business. If you buy futures in a commodity, when that future matures, you must either buy the commodity or sell at a loss.

It is odd how a few things can make a huge difference in our perception of things. I'm staying at a Sheraton hotel in Clayton, MO. The room is large and clean, but there is no refrigerator or microwave and the bathroom is quite small. Those three details made me think, "what a lousy hotel" at first. I got over it, but I'm still not happy about the fridge.

There were several other topics in my mind when I began typing this. They have all gone away and so will... for a little while.

Is it a senior moment?

The picture is one I took at the Little Rock River Market. It has absolutely nothing to do with the subject or what I have to say about it.



I visited my friend Sean's Facebook wall this afternoon. There was an invitation to write on the wall. I could think of nothing to say. The same thing happened when I visited Liz' Facebook.

The French have a phrase that covers moments like that in a conversation. It's "moment d'escalier" or stairway moment. It is quite common to think of what you should have said after the discussion is ended and you are on the stairs out of your friend's apartment. But it seems a little unfair that this should be an Internet phenomenon too. After all, here we have time to ponder our responses and type them into an e-mail or chat or Twitter (Tweet?)

That is all very well, but it has been several days since Sean and Liz invited me to be their friends and write on their walls. I still have not thought of anything to say. I guess I could just say 'hi' and leave it there. But that seems so jejune and a little pointless. I did, after all, request becoming their friend.



I suppose that it is a function of unfamiliarity. I see them only once or twice a year. Even then, we don't have a lot to say other than catching up with mutual friends. With Sean, we can chat about science fiction. (Photo from a con is above.) Usually with Liz, I can complement her on one achievement or another (she is active in sports and school) and just watch her interact with her friends. She is very pretty and quite vivacious. Just being around people like that makes me feel younger.

Next weekend, I am heading to St. Louis to meet the Washington University Women's Volleyball Team. Fran and I have been active with them since our daughter joined the team years ago. They are wonderful women, intelligent, interested and, of course, up to date. Just being around them makes me feel younger. I just hope that in the coming days, I'll think of something interesting to say.

Falling in love

Recently I fell in love again. It's not unusual for me to love someone, but it is rarer for me to fall in love.

What makes this even more unusual is our differences. She is probably a quarter of my age. (You are probably saying that makes her really young or makes me really old. You're right on both counts.)

She is a pretty girl. That attracted my attention, but what sent me head over heels was her attitude. Even when she is checked in something she wants to do, she stays positive and doesn't sulk. She is physically strong and very active. The actual moment I fell was when I spied her literally dancing with joy. Naturally, she danced gracefully. She also threw her whole into those few moments.

I'm an ancient, creaking wreck in the eyes of people her age. Naturally this heart throb will remain undisclosed to her. What the heck! We're friends. I would do nothing to spoil that.

But this lovely, warm glow is a reward in itself. I will cherish it and those moments that brought it into my heart.

Thanks, friend.

Ogdensburg, New York

Leaving a science fiction convention causes mixed emotions. There is the relief at getting away from the work, the happy anticipation of getting home to loved ones left behind opposed to the sorrow at leaving old and new friends and saying good bye to the many parties thrown each evening. Today's departure was made more piquant by discovering that I had left the reading light on in my car and having to wait for someone to give me a boost.
Between that and exploring this north east corner of NY state, I barely put 200 miles on the car. But they were lovely miles indeed. As soon as I left Montreal, I got off Hy15 and found a little vineyard in St. Jacques Minor. In New York, I found another place that made fruit wines and bought several. Of course I bought presents for family, friends and neighbors in the duty free shop, spending considerably more than the Canadian dollars I wanted to be rid of.
Tonight, in Ogdensburg, I found a beautiful inn at the side of the St. Lawrence Seaway. It was beside a restaurant that served me the nicest piece of beef I have had in more than a year. Walking out of the restaurant, I saw the sunset at the head of this post.
What could be nicer. Alas, I drank a glass of wine which, on top of the exhaustion of a week of nights with two to five hours sleep, made me very drowsy. Therefore, devoted readers, I shall tell more and show more another time.

Good Night

Vincennes, Indiana

Drove about 470 miles from Little Rock and stayed off the Interstate where I could. I'll photograph a map and post it in a later blog.
As I came northeast, I saw the crops and roadside flowers change. In Arkansas and Missouri, the crops were mostly rice and soy beans. The roadside flowers were mallows. I'll post a photo when I get it off my camera. Not tonight, I'm tired.
Driving through the small towns was wonderful. The houses ranged from little crackeer boxes to Victorian gingerbread mansions. Most of the yards were neat and quite a few had front gardens. The most amazing thing was the abundance of licoris (surprize lilies). There were huge groupings, lines and circles. Fran and I were quite proud of our little group, but these made ours look insignificant.
My fingers are getting tangled. I'll report more another time.

Off to see the wizard

Every year, about this time science fiction and fantasy fans get together for the world science fiction convention (Worldcon). This year it has been named Anticipation and will be held in Montreal the first weekend in August
If you've never been to a science fiction convention (con), let me tell you a little about them. For the most part, they are gatherings of people with similar interests in literature. But the science part always works its way into the program. There is a set program with speakers who are knowledgeable about the subjects from alternate universes to zygotes and lots of fun stuff in between. There are even panels on being a science fiction fan and retrospectives on fandom and fannish events. There is also dress up. Fans come in costume. They compete in a masquerade. The costumes are usually terrific.



Then there are the parties. Almost every con has a hospitality area where they serve soda and snacks. Sometimes there is beer. But the parties usually are the most active. People throw parties for almost any reason, eg. they found a new drink they want to share, they want fans to come to the con they are organizing, they like parties, etcetera. At Worldcon many of the parties are given by people who are bidding on the site of a future Worldcon. I'm guessing that the ostensible reason is to show the fans how great their city is for people and for parties. The future Worldcon site is chosen at the Worldcon two years before that site will be used. The con is always in a different city from the year before. The rules say that not all these cons may be held in the US.
This year, Worldcon is in Montreal. So tomorrow I head in a generally north easterly direction and hope I hit the Canadian border fairly close to Province Quebec.
I love to drive so the distance isn't a bother. But I do have to get to Montreal a little ahead of the con so I can help out with the setting up. There is a regular cadre of people from all over the world who attend every Worldcon. They participate, working behind the scenes, organizing and running errands for the locals in charge of the con. A lot of these people, I only get to see every year or even less frequently since all are not able to get to every Worldcon.
Along with friends and folk with similar interests, there are things like the art show and the guests in media, writing, publishing and the like. They participate on the panels, give demonstrations and make themselves available to fans who want to know more about them and what they do. It interesting. I've met some of the famous authors who were reputed to be curmudgeons and have had nothing but pleasant conversations with them.
The community of fans is one of the most intelligent and tolerant that I've ever met. Spending time with them is a pleasure, one that I'm looking forward to having in the next few days.

How cool is that?

This morning, I found a rain lily blooming, almost at my front door. It's a pretty flower and the first one that has bloomed for me. I took a picture.

This evening, the rain lily had closed for the night. Here are the photos day, evening and night.

philosophy of life

     An often quoted wise man once said, "Live life as if each were to be your last on earth."

     I can't do that.  If I were to live like that, I'd have a permanent case of the "poor me"s and sulk around the house, thinking about the injustice of it all.

     So let me give you another philosophy: Live life as if you were immortal and your friends were going to die tomorrow.

     Friends are the most important part of life.  Without them, living is a lonely business.  But many of us, me included, lose track of time and go for days without talking to them.  We forget birthdays, anniversaries, important things for them.   Since they are good friends, we are forgiven and the lapse is forgotten.  But think about the feelings if your were unable to say "good bye."  What happens to those issues between you that are left in the air when you are no longer able to talk.

     My time in Vietnam should have convinced me that I am mortal.  I came through that with a few extra holes in my anatomy and a small fragment of steel that rode my back for 20 years before it worked itself out of me.  But I am alive.   Some of the friends I made there and other places are not.

     Now, I work at staying in touch with friends and family.  I willingly inconvenience myself to spend time with them.  I think about them often and try to let them know that they are precious to me.

     Naturally I often fall down on the job.  Like the Romans said: Errare humanum est (To err is human.)  Not sure about the spelling on that Latin, but it's close.  Occasional failure is part of the human condition.  It's like riding a bike.  When you fall off, you pick yourself up and climb back on.  If you don't, you've wasted however many hundreds of dollars you spent on that bike and are reduced to walking, driving or riding the bus.

     The essential thing is not how many times we fail, but how many times we keep trying.  Never forget that friends try to understand, to forgive and to forget our idiosyncrasies, quirks and ourselves.  It's important to make that worth the effort.

School time

Today, I attended the first meeting of the school year.  It was of the Development Council for the University of Arkansas at Little Rock (UALR) Department of Audiology and Speech Pathology (DASP).

The school is very interesting.  First it is associated with the University of Arkansas Medical School UAMS).  Their ear, nose and throat specialists (ENTs) work with DASP on a regular basis.  The two school's graduate programs have some classes together and much of the research at DASP is done at UAMS.  DASP is a small department with 92 undergraduates, 88 graduate students and about 13 on-campus faculty.  But theirs is the first PhD in Audiology developed in Arkansas.

Some of the programs include:

- the auditory/oral support programs at Children's Hospital

- correction of speech defects

- use of hearing asstance devices

- diagnosis of hearing and speech disorders

- research into the hearing problems in older people

- research into the relationship of brain waves (via electro encephalograph) and speech sounds

- developing students for the transition from high school to university

- improving college skills in the hearing/speech impaired

- teaching hearing/speech impaired students what rights they have on a regular campus

and of course, research into the causes and amelioration of the problems they teach 

The faculty and graduate students publish their research in standard, refereed journals for their colleagues to use and build upon.  One of the faculty is now an author (one of four) of "The Voice and Voice Therapy".  This is the standard text for most students of these disorders.

A summer program, Audition Within Your Reach was developed and is overseen by faculty.

These and many other exciting programs make this a most rewarding council on which to serve.

W estercon

Every so often, science fiction fans get together to socialize, meet authors and artists, discuss things like science, art, acting, films and the like. These get togethers are called "cons" by the fen (fannish plural of fan). Westercon is one of these cons, an annual event held in the American west and moving from town to town depending on which local sf club is willing to organize a con.
Meeting favorite authors and artists is the big reason I started attending cons. But after a few years, I had made good friends that I only saw at one or another con. Published writers began taking me under their wing and making suggestions for improving my writing and/or getting my fiction published. There were always new, interesting people coming over my horizon.
For example, on the first day of Westercon, I met Stan Schmidt, an author and the editor of Analog, a magazine of science fiction fact. Michael Stackpole, another author, was there and they talked. during the time I was able to listen, I learned more about what publishers want from authors and how to present my work.
There are multiple activities at cons. These consist of panels which cover various aspects of writing, art, even of being a fan. Authors do readings of their work. Costumers discuss the making of hall and masquerade costumes. New and old types of science fiction and fantasy are discussed. Various experts give workshops. Woman hungry men search for women and vice versa.
At many cons, these activities stop (except for the searching) around dark and big events like the masquerade are held. But even when there is no big event, there are parties. The parties are hosted by sf clubs who are "selling" their city for a future con, by clubs wanting to thank fen for voting or working for them and by people who like parties. If they're not too noisy, the parties are great places for one on one conversations with people usually busy or surrounded by a group.
My ambition is still to get one of my stories published and to see my novel in print when I get around to finishing it. These parties usually give me the opportunity to put my name in front of a publisher or editor. They have resulted in invitations to submit work for consideration.
I'm running out of time before I go to speak on a panel of my own. I'll finish with a brag. Diana Gabaldon attended a caffe klatch and gave a reading yesterday. I attended both. If you don't know who Diana is, just look for her name in the fiction of the nearest book store. You are in for a delightful read.
There are a few pictures that I have of authors and artists. I'll post these when I return to Little Rock.

write or garden?

As I write this, my garden is calling.  The weeds are growing and flowers blooming.

But I'm supposed to be a writer!  A writer writes.  So why am I squatting in the garden, playing in the dirt?

One reason is certainly that my characters have become very lazy.  Instead of doing interesting things or following the suggestions in my plot outline, they sit and think boring thoughts.  I believe that they are as bored with them as a reader would be.  At the moment, I'm trying to figure a way to get inside the story and stick a pin in their collective behinds.

It's getting hot.  Now that's a perfect excuse to sit in the air conditioning and tap away at my word processor.  Arkansas heat is the midwest kind (I call it 90/90; 90 degrees and 90% humidity). That means I can work up a sweat taking a cool shower.

Speaking of cool, I came across an excellent simile a couple of days ago: "cool as the other side of the pillow."  I like it.  I think I'll steal it when I have a place to use it.

This is not getting the weeds out of the ground or the words into the manuscript.  I think I'll go outside and take a picture of some pretty flowers to post at the top of this, then take a nap.

Of course, when taking pictures in the garden, I can't take just one.

Ah, spring in the garden

Hello again.

    You may note that this is a new potpourri.  My old one is still available at stevespotpourri.blogspot.com.  Alas, I can no longer post to it.  My friends at the Google help forum have yet to come up with a solution.  So here I am.

    The image above is our garden cat.  He/she/it has some advantages in that no birds are chased and there is no frivolous digging.  However that particular pussy tends to rust.

    Our spring flowers are proceeding apace.  Therefore, I shall post a few here.

This is the first calla lily of the season.  It abides in the front of our home so our visitors can see.  There about a dozen sprouting now and we expect them to last most of the summer.





These are some more of the flowers we have this spring.  From left to right, they are:  Stella de oro daylilies, hardy ice plants and one of the last iris we'll have until next year.  

    We live in Arkansas and spring has advanced through the crocus, daffodil and tulip stage.  Even though we've had a cool, wet spring, even the best of things must end.  So, we're looking at the first of our summer flowers.

But wait, there's more!

The flowers that will last all summer have begun to arrive.  These welcome guys are, again from left to right: Indian blanket flower, lavender de Provence and Queen Anne's lace.

   There are some people who consider both the blanket flower and Queen Anne's lace (also called false carrot) to be weeds.  However in my book, these are dependable summer friends.  They may be a little overenthusiastic in the matter of propagation.  But that just gives me more nice plants to pass along to folks who like them.

    We have a number of plants in our garden that are native to Arkansas, and more importantly, able to resist our winters and summer temperatures.

The Oriental lily at the immediate right is a "come back kid."  They die back in winter, then sprout in spring to bloom gloriously in May and June.  The center plant is a hardy orchid.  That's one of the few orchids that thrive here.  Next to it, on the far right is the rainbow orchid, another Arkansas native.

These last flowers are a blend.  The penstamon on the left is of the Jupiter's beard variety.  Although not native, hummingbirds and

butterflies love it.  In the center are wave petunias.  I was pleasantly surprised this year.  I had planted them last summer to replace the pansies that could not stand our summer heat.  They are supposed to be annuals here, but they re-seeded and came back for me.  The final plant is an Indian pink.  Its flowers are short lived, but I love them.  They usually replace the snow drops and daffodils that grow in the same bed.

  My latest experiment is with a transplanted toad wort.  If it thrives, photos will be forthcoming.  I'm hoping to find some larkspur and gather its seeds.  Another lovely thing to grace our rocky slopes.

   You can see the rocks.  My wife and I have been moving them for years, slowly building beds 
where previously, there were only rocks and a few hardy weeds.  As you can see from the date, this photo is a sort of "before".  If we ever finish, I'll show an "after."  But our garden is, as are most, a work in progress.