No Surprises Here

Lately, the weather around here has been unusual for our area. 

Each morning has been cool and damp, and those conditions have lasted until mid-afternoon at which time the sun has gradually pushed through to provide a lovely late day. It has reminded me of the marine layers I experienced the few times I stayed on the coast in California, but I dismissed the notion since we live so far inland on the East Coast.

But, I was sitting by the fire I built late this morning because it was so cold and damp when I read that a marine layer forms when warm air moves over cooler water. And I remembered the chilly, gray weather we had circled the Tidal Basin in a few hours earlier as I continued reading that the result of that clash can be mist or fog, and temperatures within the layer are significantly lower than usual. It sure sounded marine layer-y to me.

Even so, I was surprised to confirm that our recent weather has indeed been the result of a large marine layer of clouds blown by stronger-than-usual onshore winds and expanding over the mid-Atlantic seaboard. The phenomenon was actually mentioned in passing by the Capital Weather Gang, like it's no big deal.

But I guess that's just how the weather is these days: we've all learned to expect the unexpected.

Repair Jobs

This morning, I took the car in for routine service and a state inspection. As usual with a seven-year-old vehicle, there was more to be done than I had expected, and I ended up sitting in the waiting room for 3 hours while the car got a rear brake job and a new battery, too. 

As I sat, I was privy to an extensive conversation between two septuagenarians wiling away the time while they, too, waited for their cars. Only a decade or so separated us in age, but unlike me and all the other patrons in the lounge, they were focused on another human being rather than a screen. The topics they covered were broad; besides car and car repair, they ranged from children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews to bingo, Thai food, local history, real estate sales, snow removal, divorce, careers, retirement, and health, the latter including old injuries, current arthritis, insurance, rehab, drug use, and treatments.

"They took a dead man's hip bone and made putty out of it, then they packed it around my spine, like a bulletproof vest to hold my neck up," one of them reported. "Then I was in rehab for a month. I worked hard to get out of there!"

The other nodded. "I went through a lot of physical therapy, too," she said. "And I'm just so glad to still be walking around."

Amen to that.

Come Again?

When I was a kid I had a host of words that to me were just reading words, words I had never heard in conversation and so had no idea about the correct pronunciation. Like many fluent readers, though, I just kind of skimmed over them: I could tell what they meant in context; I just didn't know exactly how they sounded. One that I recall was "indict." Of course, I had no clue that the c was silent. Colonel and epitome were also on the list, as were several names like Seamus, Joachim, and Hermione.

Now that I often listen to audiobooks, though, the situation is reversed, and I sometimes hear words or names that I am unsure of how to spell. For example, I just finished an Agatha Christie-style mystery by Ruth Ware called One by One. It takes place in a ski chalet in the French Alps, and the characters frequently mention backcountry skiing off-trail, but they call it something that sounds like "off piece." In addition to that, they are all English and use many British idioms, and I could not figure out what they were saying about skiing. It turns out the expression was "off piste," because piste is the French (and German and Italian) word for a groomed ski run.

There is one big difference between then and now, though. These days, you can just do an internet search for words and even hear pronunciations. Now that's a good use of technology!

Green Peace

Traffic was brutal when I set off to meet a friend at the National Arboretum this morning, and my map app predicted that the 8-mile journey would take 55 minutes. Thankfully, after a long stretch of bumper-to-bumper, things cleared a bit, and I made it to the visitors center in 45 minutes instead, pulling up right around 9:30. 

The day was clear and mild, but since not much was in bloom, the two of us and our dogs seemed to have all 446 acres to ourselves as we rambled first to the 22 Corinthian columns that were part of the U.S. Capitol from 1828-1958, then through the state trees and on over to the Asian collections. We spotted several juncos, nuthatches, and downy woodpeckers along the way, and then, down by the Anacostia River, we saw a bald eagle riding the early thermals way up in the sky. 

On our way back up the hill we found what I consider to be the coolest plant of the day, a flying dragon tree. This cold-hardy member of the citrus family looked for all the world like the shrubs surrounding Sleeping Beauty's castle.

Next, we made our way through the conifer collection and on down to an open field with an enormous tree stump sprawling like a little stage. Lucy took the opportunity to grab the spotlight and hopped up on her own for a photo op. 

From there it was past the pond where turtles were sunning themselves on every available surface above the water and down a wooded path where an eastern phoebe called her name over and over as we passed. Then we were back to the visitors center where we peeked through the windows into the bonsai greenhouse (no dogs allowed inside) before returning to our cars. 

After a couple of peaceful hours wandering through the gardens and forests I had almost forgotten about the traffic of the morning, but it was there waiting for me as drove through the gates and turned toward home.

I've Got It

I've always enjoyed doing puzzles of almost any sort: jigsaw, crossword, brain teasers, sudoku, and more recently, the NY Times suite of Wordle, Connections, and Strands. When I have time, I also like Worldle and Globle to sharpen my geography knowledge and Where Taken? to test my powers of observation and deduction. 

Retirement has made me even more aware of all the solving opportunities available; these days, a person could spend hours, if not all day, doing puzzles, and it can be so tempting, too. 

A finite problem with a definite solution? How refreshing is that!

Fasting and Feasting

When I was in graduate school, one of my professors mentioned in passing that it's always more powerful to tell students what you want them to do rather than what you don't. So instead of saying, "Don't be late," or "Don't forget the test tomorrow," it's more effective to say, "Be on time," or "Remember to study tonight." When I started teaching, I found his advice to be accurate, and that simple act of reframing has shaped most of my conversations since.

I read a Lenten meditation the other day by The Very Rev. Randolph Marshall Hollerith, a dean of the National Cathedral. In it, he cited a reflection adapted from We Dare to Say: Praying for Justice and Peace, eds. Sylvia Skrepichuk & Michel Cote, which includes a list of suggested fasts, a traditional practice for Lent, but also some corresponding feasts: attitudes, acts of devotion, or services that one might add for the season.

For example, readers are encouraged to fast from anger, feast on patience; to fast from bitterness, feast on forgiveness; and to fast from thoughts that weaken, feast on promises that inspire. The notion of abstaining from knee-jerk negativity and focusing instead on a reciprocal, positive action or attitude is as enlightening as my professor's counsel was all those years ago. 

Now, if I can just do it.

No Cursing Necessary

Even though retirement has proven to be more of an adjustment than I ever considered it might be, there have been many bright spots as well. The latest? Daylight Savings Time has no power over me. 

For years, I railed against the return of morning darkness just when dawn was finally breaking before it was time to rise. And I was utterly unmoved by any kind of optimistic "turn toward the light" and "here's to longer days and warmer weather" rhetoric. 

But now? Although I wouldn't go so far as to say I approve of such an arbitrary disruption in everyone's schedule, it doesn't bother me quite as much. I guess I can put away the candles instead of cursing the light.