Up the hill

This post was originally written in October 2015.

Wild turkey and deer darted and foraged between the houses, in the gardens and among the trees. 

I took a walking adventure, just heading uphill and moseying along without a plan... Listening to a random variety of music on the iphone, wandering until coming upon a wild grassy field perfect for laying on my back, gazing at the sky, and daydreaming. Such grounding there is in making physical contact with the earth where grass and wild weeds grow. Rested and refreshed, I got up again and walked until my phone battery was dead, and eventually came home. It was four miles.

Rain may fall tonight, in which case dry fields for daydreaming will no longer exist. We do need the rain. But we need daydreams too.

My Other Blogs

I'm trying to figure out how to link my other blogs to this site, so that they will all be accessible in one place. So I'll try it this way.

http://cloverlawn.wordpress.com/

http://cloverinthelawn.blogspot.com/

Altered Book Consciousness

Exposed,

the edge of disaster 

wolves eat dogs

and my shoes keep walking back to you.

Reality charting

family history.

If you loved him

(what’s a father for?)

there is room for you.

The plan:

behaving like adults.

-are we there yet?-

Life studies,

true enough,

nothing but the truth,

nothing to fear.

Used

to believe not to believe

the worst day of my life, so far.

The story of forgetting

this happy place.

All or nothing.

A greater good,

no hidden meanings.

You know better.

Fever, secret life,

the woman in the cloak.

She is me, 

who I was supposed to be.

Crazy woman blues.

How I got to be perfect.

My found friend, Ouende, makes altered books. She posted some photos of the books she has collected, chosen for their titles, and I made this poem out of them. The lines came together in a particular fashion, inspired by a young woman I know in her mid-20s. I bet a whole different poem could be composed of these same titles, with a whole different meaning - if someone had a mind to do such a thing.

Larry Gruman. You inspired us to ponder. For that I am grateful. Rest in peace.

Larry Gruman's Blog

Enthusiasm for "Here on the Edge" by Steve McQuiddy

"... there’s something about talking with the kids, something that resonates beyond sharing a great story. Something vital, that lightens the weight of time. I guess you could call it optimism...."
 /http://hereontheedge.com/2014/05/09/another-great-talk-with-the-next-generation/

Some days have no order to them.

It was an intense day. Music, songs. Unexpected loss. Friends. Strangers. Tears. Love. Prayer. Sky, sun, clouds, smoky fire. A mistake, forgiven. And then another. Some days have no order to them. This day has been like that. 

One marvelous thing leads to another...

March 27, 2014

    I have the habit of looking at photos of people and reading the names underneath, thinking maybe there will be someone I know. And I sometimes find that there is. This time, it was a relative.
    Accidentally discovered, because there was an interesting article in Oregon Quarterly, Winter 2013, about Gordon Gilkey, the man behind the movie “Monuments Men” about saving art work from the Nazis during WWII. And this topic greatly interests me.
    In this issue also was an excerpt from a book about the conscientious objectors in World War II, and there was a photo, and under the photo were names. One of them was Dick Brown. I knew that Mom’s cousin Dick had been a C.O. so I emailed the photo to Mom and she said, “Yes, that’s him.” The book is Here on the Edge by Steve McQuiddy.

    Today I went to Tsunami Bookstore to see if they had a copy of the book, so I could give it to Mom for her birthday. She will be 89 tomorrow. I was carrying my copy of the Oregon Quarterly and when I walked in the door, the girl at the front desk was busy with a guy who looked like he was selling or consigning some books. So I decided to go to the restroom first. When I came out, she was free, so I showed her the article and asked her, “Do you have this book?” She said, “Oh, I was just talking to that guy.” I said, “What guy?” She said the author of the book; he had just dropped off a box of books for them to sell. I said, “Really??? Seriously? That was the guy you were just talking to when I came in?” She said, “Yes.” I said, “Where is he?” She said he was gone; he had just gotten into his car and driven away on his way to the beach for a presentation. I showed her Dick Brown’s picture on the cover, and told her that he was my mom’s cousin. It seemed odd to me, how calm she was, like this was the most common thing in the world to have happen. But I was astonished.
    Maybe that’s why things like this happen to me - because I am continually astonished by them. Yes, I do enjoy the astonishing life.
    She told me that Steve McQuiddy was planning to do a presentation at City Club of Eugene tomorrow, so I bought the book. I guess I’ll go tomorrow, and ask him to sign the copy for Mom.
    So when I got home, I went to Steve McQuiddy’s website and looked around... he is a historian, and he has also written about Opal Whitely. He has fascinating links to fascinating history archival websites. I can get lost in that.


http://hereontheedge.com/

Rust and Diamonds

What's behind the Villanelle

Here's some interesting information about the Villanelle form of poetry.

First Villanelle

My first Villanelle

Villanelle for victims of the new recession (Requiem for a shuttered school)

Ghosts do visit this sunwashed slope

Unfettered free, in shapes of child

Singing lost shanties of rust, diamonds and hope.

As if such dreams could help me cope

Their dresses frilled and eyes so mild

Ghosts do visit this sunwashed slope.

What sight provokes the eye to mope?

Time has turned the songs to wild.

Singing lost shanties of rust, diamonds and hope.

Strangled the shuttered structures grope

Evermore blocked to human child

Ghosts do visit this sunwashed slope.

An accident, perhaps, or twisted rope

Shattered green glass when master riled

Singing lost shanties of rust, diamonds and hope.

Green broke shards 'neath sun's woozy dope

Diamonds amid resting rust of guile

Ghosts do visit this sunwashed slope

Singing lost shanties of rust, diamonds and hope.

~Terry Varner Benge (26 July 2012)

The Surprising Connection Between Hugo and Thirteen

Oh man! We finally went to see "Hugo." I loved this movie! The new 3-D technology was unexpectedly awesome, but this movie is great on so many levels. 3-D was just the icing on the cake - although, actually, the 3-D aspect did relate to the story. And what a fascinating story. I think I'd categorize this film as magical realism, my favorite genre. History, mystery, love, war, friendship, morality, self-discovery, well-developed characters, dreams, imagination, laughter, tears, and Paris. Is there anything this movie doesn't have? The entire film was a visual delight. My gosh, I can't believe people haven't been screaming at me, "You have got to go see "Hugo!"

I was reading up on the creation of Hugo (the film) and learned that the author of the book, "The Invention of Hugo Cabret," Brian Selznik, was influenced by the book "Thirteen" by Remy Charlip and Jerry Joyner. This is a book a bought when I lived in San Francisco because I was totally impressed by the way the objects morph from one thing to another as you turn the pages... I am thrilled that I still have this book.

Amazon.com Exclusive

A Letter from Brian Selznick Dear readers, When I was a kid, two of my favorite books were by an amazing man named Remy Charlip. Fortunately and Thirteen fascinated me in part because, in both books, the very act of turning the pages plays a pivotal role in telling the story. Each turn reveals something new in a way that builds on the image on the previous page. Now that I’m an illustrator myself, I’ve often thought about this dramatic storytelling device and all of its creative possibilities. My new book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, is a 550 page novel in words and pictures. But unlike most novels, the images in my new book don't just illustrate the story; they help tell it. I've used the lessons I learned from Remy Charlip and other masters of the picture book to create something that is not a exactly a novel, not quite a picture book, not really a graphic novel, or a flip book or a movie, but a combination of all these things. I began thinking about this book ten years ago after seeing some of the magical films of Georges Méliès, the father of science-fiction movies. But it wasn’t until I read a book called Edison's Eve: The Quest for Mechanical Life by Gaby Woods that my story began to come into focus. I discovered that Méliès had a collection of mechanical, wind-up figures (called automata) that were donated to a museum, but which were later destroyed and thrown away. Instantly, I imagined a boy discovering these broken, rusty machines in the garbage, stealing one and attempting to fix it. At that moment, Hugo Cabret was born. A few years ago, I had the honor of meeting Remy Charlip, and I'm proud to say that we've become friends. Last December he was asking me what I was working on, and as I was describing this book to him, I realized that Remy looks exactly like Georges Méliès. I excitedly asked him to pose as the character in my book, and fortunately, he said yes. So every time you see Méliès in The Invention of Hugo Cabret, the person you are really looking at is my dear friend Remy Charlip, who continues to inspire everyone who has the great pleasure of knowing him or seeing his work. Paris in the 1930's, a thief, a broken machine, a strange girl, a mean old man, and the secrets that tie them all together... Welcome to The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Yours, Brian Selznick

OWP & Columbus Day Storm

I'm trying to find my very first blog, created during the Oregon Writing Project in 2005. I think it's gone. But here's something I wrote on another site about my memories of the Columbus Day Storm. Click on the title to see the original website and learn more about the infamous Columbus Day Storm!

I was ten years old; it was the beginning of my 5th grade year, and I was walking home from Lieser School, in Vancouver, Washington. I noticed that the air was very odd. The sky looked yellow and everything was still and silent. Heavy. It was very odd. I stood at the corner of Lieser Road and MacArthur Blvd., where my street, St. Helens Ave., intersected, and I remember looking in all directions, noticing and wondering about the strange weather, and walking on home.

Fast forward a few hours and I was finishing up my ballet class in downtown Vancouver. My parents picked me up and we were going out to dinner. We went to a Chinese Restaurant not far from the dance studio. I remember that I was very very hungry and I couldn't wait for the chow mien. My stomach was growling. It was getting dark outside.

We ordered, but it seemed like it was taking forever for the food to arrive. There was a group in another booth, but they left before getting their food and my parents said they must have been worried about getting home in the storm. But we decided to stick it out. Suddenly the lights went out -- everything in the restaurant was pitch black. We wondered if we were going to get our food. But food had been prepared, so we got to eat. It may have been something different from what we ordered, but we didn't mind. We couldn't really see the food anyway; it was too dark. They brought out candles and we hastily ate our chow mien. Our family -- my dad, mom and younger sister and I -- were the only customers. At that point, with food finally going into my belly, it all seemed like an interesting adventure.

It was windy when we went in, but storms and power outages weren't all that uncommon. I was just a child, but I don't believe my parents or the other adults in the community had any idea of what was coming.

By the time we left, it was getting very very windy. We ran to the car (1951 Ford) and as we drove out of town, store front windows were "popping" left and right. "Look, that window just popped!" "Look! there's another one!" We drove home in blackness; there was no electricity anywhere in the city. Our headlights illuminated flying leaves, branches, and black snake-like power lines, freed from their poles, that whipped across our path and slapped at the car. We were stopped at one point by a huge Douglas fir that had fallen across the main boulevard; we had to drive around it and take another route home.

I don't remember the sounds. It must have been crashing all around us. I think my parents must have had the car radio on, too, trying to get the news.

Our single story home on St. Helens Avenue had been brand new when my parents bought it in 1954. It was one of those 3-bedroom track homes build to accommodate the growing ranks of post-war baby boom families. Behind it rolled an empty field and our dining room had a panorama view of the city of Portland across the Columbia River. We didn't have a basement. The four of us huddled in the darkness, together in my parents' bedroom. I don't remember being frightened, but I think my 9-year old sister was. My parents must have been scared, too, but I didn't know it.

The next morning we awoke to crystal clear blue skies and sunshine. It was such a beautiful day, and we toured the neighborhood, surveying the damage. We were lucky. The only thing we lost was a young tree my dad had planted the year before. Some people lost entire roofs off their houses. Many lost shingles and huge trees that blocked roads and crushed homes and cars. We were warned to stay away from downed power lines, and we thought of all the potential live wires we had come in contact with the night before.

Back at school stories were exchanged. The one I remember most vividly was about the family a few blocks from us, gathered for dinner when a tree fell through the roof, right across the middle of their dining room table, and no one was hurt!

It is interesting to read what other people have to say about their experiences that day. So few seem to remember, or even know that it happened at all. But around here it used to be said that everyone remembers where they were when President Kennedy was shot, and on the day of the Columbus Day storm.

Terry Benge
October 14, 2007

My Wordpress Blog

Here's my Wordpress blog.

http://cloverlawn.wordpress.com/

My Other Blogspot Blog

I'm trying to figure out how to link my other blogs to this site, so that they will all be accessible in one place. So I'll try it this way. Here's one of them.

http://cloverinthelawn.blogspot.com/

Following Myself

I have just started a new blog, because I have changed my gmail address. So now I'd like to merge the two blogs into one, but I can't figure out how to do that. I wonder if it's possible. Meanwhile, I will have to settle for following myself, I guess!

Nothing Interesting

This is an experiment for a friend. I'm just trying to see if the blog update shows up in Facebook. Now I just need something interesting to blog about!

Santa Lucia and Père Noël

This is my Christmas card this year. The drawing was done using a graphite ground and pencil.

What you may not know about the H1N1 virus

This information comes from what I’ve learned from my doctor’s office, the local medical community, Riverbend Urgent Care, the CDC website, and my own personal experience.

If you have a sore throat, body aches, chills, fatigue (overwhelming urge to sleep) and feel woozy -- and these symptoms came on suddenly -- you probably have the flu. There is only one flu going around right now, and that’s the H1N1 flu. According to their website, CDC says that 99% of all flu cases in the USA at this time are the novel H1N1, aka “swine” flu. According to Riverbend Urgent Care, all flu cases in our local area are H1N1.

With H1N1, you don’t necessarily have a fever, and/or your temperature may be sub normal. Yahoo reports that 37% of reported H1N1 cases do not present with fever. My temperature with this virus has been 95.5-96.2 F.

Don’t expect to be able to take a test from your doctor to find out if you have it. Locally, the only way you can be tested for H1N1 specifically is if you are admitted to the hospital. At Urgent Care they told me the test costs $700 and insurance doesn’t pay for it. I suspect that insurance will pay for it if you’re hospitalized, though. There is another test, called a “rapid flu” test. My doctor isn’t doing those anymore, but they are doing them at Urgent Care. They take a swab from the nasal passage or throat, like for a strep test. If it comes back positive, you have the flu, but it doesn’t specify what flu. So, if you have a positive rapid flu test now, they say it’s definitely H1N1, because that’s the only flu going around at this time.

Then they’ll tell you, it doesn’t matter, because they will treat you the same way whether you have H1N1 or seasonal flu. And what treatment is that?

1. Go to bed, get plenty rest and lots of liquids and good nutrition.
2. Stay home! Do not go to school, work, church or the grocery store!

Especially with H1N1, and also for seasonal flu, stay home for 24 hours past when your fever goes away without fever-reducing medication. If you don’t have fever, stay home until you have felt well for 24 hours.

If you are sick stay home. If your kids are sick, keep them at home. Stay home from work and care for them until they are completely over it.

A friend who lives in Germany told me that she’s not worried at all about getting this virus. In Germany, if you get the flu you just go to the doctor, and they will give you Tamuflu, which will reduce the symptoms and duration of the flu, and keep you from being contagious. At Urgent Care they told me that in the US you can only get Tamuflu if you’re hospitalized or have a life-threatening case of the flu.

Since our government won’t order us into quarantine, or even begin to encourage any behavior that might slow down the economy, it’s up to us to take on the responsibility of doing everything we can to keep each other healthy. That means if we are sick, we need to quarantine ourselves.

If you must go out, wear a mask. If your kids are sick, quarantine them.

If you are a teacher or an employer, be flexible in your expectations of your students and your employees. Health is more important than grades, more important than sales, more important than the economy! This flu season is temporary, and we can all get back to life as normal once it passes. For now, slow down and keep the proper perspective.

Be well and help others stay well!

Thinking about Opal

Here’s a link to a beautiful website about Opal Whitely:
http://www.efn.org/~caruso/fairyland/
If you click on the right links, it will take you to her diary, which she wrote when she was seven. I absolutely love it. Opal became famous as a naturalist in her 20’s and then fell into “mental illness” and her diaries were questioned as to their authenticity. She wrote a book called “The Fairyland Around Us” which is very rare now.
When my daughter was little I found a copy in the children’s book section of a used book store here in Eugene. I thought it was going to be about fairies, and when I leafed through it I saw that it wasn’t; it was about nature. It had a price of $5.95 and I decided it was too expensive, so I put it back on the shelf! I was looking for cheap kid’s books for Heather at the time.
Later I found out who Opal Whitely was, read her diary, and realized that it was her book I had held in my hand! I think she was born around the same time as my grandfather (1901), so the descriptions of her growing up in the woods around Cottage Grove remind me in some ways of Grandpa’s youth in the logging camps of Washington State.
Opal died in a mental hospital in England, and one of my book group members got to meet her. Her mother had done extensive history and biographical work about her, and had corresponded with her. So Elizabeth traveled with her mother to England and was able to meet with Opal before she died.