Is it “still lifes” when it’s “art”, or “still lives”?
Anyway, it could be applied to these flower scenes, or to our life right now, but either way it’s an art form of sorts.  The art of being still here now and not going crazy.

My back has been killing me for days, so it’s going to be a pretty “still” Shabbat, but not much keeps me down.  Can’t complain.  E [partly due to my Evil Plan 😉 ] is happily engrossed in Sherman Alexie (and other authors), so that keeps her mind active while she’s still.  Of course the Skullies are experts in the zen of stillness.  And if I had a ‘shine still… OK, enough with the puns!

Well, off I hobble to the scene of my crime, the kitchen.  Happy Erev!  Or hoppy, as the case may be…Why look! here’s a still life of some session IPA now!  Crafty.  😉

On the way to our Equitas meeting in Dayton yesterday evening, the sky was very photogenic. (The city itself is tiny and mostly abandoned.)  The meeting was good, too.  They are working on many essential health projects for that neglected  community.  We are privileged to be included in this group.

Today, during a break from a week of rain, lots of flowers are happy.  It’s a jungle out there.

Meanwhile, back in E’s baking lab, her latest creations:  beautiful poppy/raisin challot, and her famous Italian savory pie, sort of like a quiche, with a lattice top.  When I first came to Ohio, E baked one of the latter for me, and since then has improved upon it.  Note the heart.  🙂  All the hiking in the world (which we’re not doing in this sauna) won’t burn these calories, but it’s worth it.  YOLO.

I know, I sound like an old fart, but how is making kids go back to school in the middle of summer going to make us any more competitive in the world?  Yes I know there’s a whole lot more to cram into their little heads since we were kids, but is this working?  Are kids getting smarter, or just more pressured by adults?  When do teachers get a break to regroup?

We used to look forward to our summer vacations, and needed them to unwind.  So did teachers.  Even parents, who could afford it.  I guess with the so-called middle class endangered, parents need to unload their kids on the system more so as to work longer and harder.  But look how well extending the school year is working for us so far–not.  If anything, we’re falling farther behind the world.  It’s not healthy or natural.

I suppose summer vacation is a relatively recent western construct in world history, and is doomed to obsolescence.  Future generations will see it as a quaint custom of bygone days, back when people could afford to stop, take a breather, unwind.  Soon we’ll be back to a post-“Metropolis” world, just cogs in a global rat-race.  Yeah, I’m just a little skeptical about this trend.

I know, it’s complicated.  It’s hard on everyone, trying to survive and keep up.  It’s hard for parents to bring kids into this reality.  It’s hard for kids to even go to college anymore, or afford it.  It’s hard for conscientious teachers to inject a little creativity into an imposed curriculum that doesn’t allow for imagination, thinking skills, life skills, the arts, or the need to breathe.

I feel for everyone involved.  Simpler times are over and gone.  The country seems to be going a little crazy, and it’s all we can do to just find a way to survive and keep our families afloat.  (Literally, with all the extreme record-setting flooding destroying whole towns!)  The very seasons themselves, and our natural internal clocks, are being altered and reset, and we have to adapt or go extinct.  Or get “creative”.

I’ll leave it there, for now.

It’s kind of ironic that of the few friends who have proven to be trustworthy and accepting toward E  here in Ohio, one was a Mexican immigrant she worked with, who also experienced discrimination here, and one wants to go back to her home in S. Carolina where it’s more hospitable.  And we ourselves are in the slow process of moving to Tennessee, out of this socially stifling atmosphere.

E’s childhood and background sound like that of a poor refugee in the dust bowl during the depression, so it’s not a place that holds many good associations.  And not much has changed here, as far as intellectual and social progress.  It’s like a time machine ride back into the ’50s, or the Twilight Zone.  It just ground to a halt and remained stagnant, whereas many places in the South are progressing and thriving.  Industry came and went like a steamroller, grinding everyone and thing down in its path, and it never really recovered.  People around here wander around in an apathetic daze, without motivation or incentive to improve or self-educate.  The attitude is contagious.

Don’t worry, this isn’t one of my rant posts.  And to prove it, here is a fresh fruit salad I made yesterday (consisting, appropriately, of fruit mostly imported from the South), and our neighbor, the one who brought us back the very large watermelon from her other home in S.Carolina.  It took us all a week to finally get to the bottom of that melon.

Lest you think we’re still wandering lost forever, here is the final installment!  We made it finally to Rose Lake, a gorgeous dammed reservoir full of fish and freshwater jellyfish (!) and surrounded by peaceful beauty, where we collapsed on a bench!  Note the old grain millstones.  Can you spot the snapping turtle?  All told, I think we walked about 10 miles, or maybe it was 100— at least it felt like it, to us OLD PEOPLE!

It seems as though we’ve been hiking this place for days, but it’s only an illusion!  You could conceivably take that long and still not see all of it.  I wish pictures could convey the sense of deep mystical silence, contemplating such ancient vastness.   Here’s more…

We saw some amazing naturally sculpted rock formations, dwarfing us puny humans, and incredibly intricate tree root systems hanging onto massive rocks for dear life.  Can you spot the little critter hiding out in one of the rock holes?  The forest is predominantly very old hemlock, unusual in this deforested state of Ohio.

Continuing along our journey, tunneling through dramatic ancient rock formations, where old trees tenaciously cling to rocks by their gnarly root systems.  Note how tiny the people are!

Yesterday (Monday) we finally made our annual trek to Hocking Hills State Park and Old Man’s Cave.  It’s an all day arduous adventure through towering ancient rock formations a hundred feet high, caves, tunnels through rock, suspended bridges, waterfalls, natural pools carved out of rock, a vast hemlock forest, a fish-filled dammed reservoir, and more.  The immense formations make people look microscopic.  It’s the hike that makes our routine repertoire look like a walk in the park!  It’s exhausting but spellbinding.

Last time, I was so challenged by the rock-climbing part, it was all I could do to hang on for dear life, never mind take photos! So this time we did that leg of the journey first, and I ended up with almost 200 photos!  Needless to say, I’m still processing through them, so I’ll just start posting them a section at a time.  Here is Part 1.  Stay tuned for more.

Some more scenes around the garden…