Is It Really August?

The first week of August is drawing to a close. This week we had two nights when the temp sank to the lower 50s. It’s almost unbelievable for that to happen in the heat of summer. It was however pleasant. The air-conditioning didn’t even come on for three and half days. Having the windows open is very pleasant.

View from upper Sherman Park

The time passed swiftly. My park visitations increased so that I am now up to 51 out of 80 visited.  Some parks I’ve visited before but it was years ago so I’m making a point of visiting those again. One of the stops today was at Sherman Park. The number of years that have passed since being there is beyond remembrance. It’s on the top of a hill and really is two parks, upper and lower. There are prehistoric Native American burial mounds there at the top along with some other places of historical interest.

Another visitation was to Emerson Park. It’s located on the site of the former Emerson School. I can remember being in that building for something. I vaguely remember the Alternative School was housed there for a time but it was after my assignment to that school. When I taught at Alternative it was in city center. That is gone now as well as Emerson. The historical sign marking the place where the school once was noted that it was renowned for its active PTA. The men would put on a pheasant feed each year. The mother’s chorus was famous for its performances throughout the city.  My fear is that “active PTAs” are no longer. Sadly, for too many, parental involvement in the education of their children is a thing of the past. The exception might be this past spring when many parents had to become the teachers. There were a lot of humorous stories and jokes made about those situations. Maybe the onslaught of COVID-19 will see the revival of the PTA! I know it has caused a new admiration for the challenges teachers overcome each day.

I’ve discovered a new Farmers’ Market. It’s just a small one located in front of a grocery/restaurant on the south side of

town.  There are just two vendors. The produce is beautiful. The corn I purchased last Wednesday was so good I went back for more today. It will be on the menu this evening, I promise.

Love this color!

I fondly recall my dearly departed friend and attorney who commented at one point that “city planning is an oxymoron!” There is evidence of this all over the city. Southeastern Drive from 26th to 69th has been a disaster for a couple of years.  I can understand delaying its repair because of the huge project on 26th street which includes raising the street some thirteen feet.  All last year the curb and gutter was replaced in several places.  Millions of dollars of equipment was virtually parked there while no one seemingly worked on the street. Finally the street was resurfaced from 26th to 49th, and 57th to 69th. Does that missing portion need resurfacing? Yes. Why was that omitted from the project? It’s a mystery. But to make things more interesting now three huge pieces of the brand new road have been cut out. These are at least a quarter of a block long and one lane in width. Is anyone working on them? Not that I’ve seen. There you have it.

This past Friday I had my MRI and CT scans and my visit with the doctor.  The scans reported good news. The lung lesions are virtually invisible. The liver lesions have become smaller by about .3cm in dimension. The chemotherapy which I receive can be continued indefinitely. Some therapies have a limit as to number of doses. This one does not. The MRI showed nothing. By that I mean that there is no cancer in the brain.  It does not mean my head is empty, although there are days when that appears to be the case.

Beautiful petunia

“There are times, especially during this pandemic, when we wonder about our lives and just what our purpose might be when we must spend days and weeks in our homes and yards.  This meditation from Henri Nouwen’s works might resonate with you as it did with me.

“I suspect that we too often have lost contact with the source of our own existence and have become strangers in our own house. We tend to run around trying to solve the problems of our world while anxiously avoiding confrontation with that reality wherein our problems find their deepest roots: our own selves. In many ways we are like the busy executive who walks up to a precious flower and says: “What for God’s sake are you doing here? Can’t you get busy somehow?” and then finds the flower’s response incomprehensible: “I am sorry, but I am just here to be beautiful.”

How can we also come to this wisdom of the flower that being is more important than doing? How can we come to a creative contact with the grounding of our own life?”

I hope your week went as well as mine. Thank you for being.

"Excuse me! Was there some question about who is in charge?"