Category: Humor

Walking thoughts

Alexandra LangstaffLeave a comment

I can’t pretend anymore that Lassie and I take 2 to 4 walks a day because of her Australian Shepherd background. Most of my friends and family are on to me.

“Does she play with toys, can you teach her tricks, would a cable runner help?” They ask.

The answer is always the same. No.

We follow old deer, bear and cow paths, behind our house and our neighbors.

She would be fine with half the amount of time we take traipsing, I’m the one who needs it more. I find it very productive. I get to try out all kinds of material. It’s like an open mic night with just me performing. It can be stream of consciousness, educational, or just plain fussing. And as we remember fussing is the art of creative problem solving where there doesn’t seem to be a problem. 

It’s the perfect excuse to think about anything I want to think about. For example, just now during a hike on the big loop:

It’s about 50 degrees and drizzling. If it were 15 degrees warmer I could count the orange newts. The other day I saw 6. Last year my record was 27 in one day. This morning they have burrowed back underground until the sun gets stronger.

At least I don’t have to watch out for stepping on them.

My cowboy boots feel sturdy, comfortable, and reliable through the spring water overflow and the slick leaves. This downhill section is a good test. It’s fun to lope in slow motion.

The first owners of the old house, after us, reclaimed this part of an old sugaring road for horseback riding but it ended up being too steep.

I spotted a lone daffodil off to the side and mentioned it to my friend, Jenna, the other day. She suggested a bird had something to do with it. 

“You mean it picked a daffodil and dropped it in the woods?” I asked.

“No, maybe it dropped a bulb” she replied.

“From its mouth?” I asked incredulously.

“I thought maybe it pooped it out or something.”

“I think they prefer to eat worms,” I said officiously.

We both laughed. I’m not sure which of us thought the other was more of a dope.

That owner must have planted it decades ago. Has it taken over 30 years for that flower to burst out, or 30 years for me to notice it?

Peter should be home from singing in the choir any minute. I took another mystery casserole out of the freezer for dinner earlier today and made a cucumber salad.

The last frozen meal I pulled out was labeled Vegetarian Lasagne with Pork Sausage. Obviously it wasn’t vegan. Did I mean the pasta was vegetarian? Opposed to what?

Interestingly the reheating instructions were rather intricate, thaw for 24 hours, heat wrapped, continue heating unwrapped, and then let sit forever. It was pretty good, however I have no idea where this recipe came from. 

Yet another successful dinner never to be repeated. At least I know I’d be a terrible cookbook author. 

After dinner the three of us will take our nightly stroll. We have to be prepared for that fumbling porcupette. It keeps coming around the house and we shoo it off with brooms and the old pool skimmer. The mom came by earlier in the spring to see how we all would react. Everyone was calm and Lassie gave it a wide berth. It ran off after a little coaxing.

She was letting us know that one of her offspring would be fumbling around soon but would eventually get the picture and head for the hills.

The young porcupine is still learning as the mother watches from the treetops, and we all wait patiently.

That was a very productive walk. 

It gave me a chance to remember that sometimes no one is right and no one’s wrong, remain observant even when I think I’ve seen it all, I can write what I want, and community requires patience with fumblers.

“Lassie, I think it’s time we stretch our legs.”

Tulip Town

Alexandra Langstaff7 Comments

Mom planted lupine seeds decades ago from Maine in hopes that they would consider her flower bed in Vermont a good place to establish roots. Apparently they can be fussy. It turns out they love the homestead so much that they suggested some of their children live in the neighbor’s pasture with the donkeys. If it weren’t for the electric fence, Mom would dig those plants up and bring them back to where she thinks they belong.

Funny, when we were growing up, Mom was adamant that we be not only prepared to move out of the house when we got older, but potentially out of the town, state and possibly the country. Maybe the lupine parents felt the same.

When she offered to let me dig some up from her garden, I was honored but also a bit suspect. “They are very particular. Either they like where they live or they don’t”, she said. Oh, I get it. This is a test.

I dug up 4 small clumps to relocate them into our flower bed. Gardening is not my forte. There is no rhyme nor reason why there is a single rhubarb plant, single peony and single rose bush, nor a small patch of mint. The Lady’s Mantle and Lemon Geranium don’t know who owns the most property. I’d make a terrible city planner. Maybe I have a subconscious hope that at least something will be blooming at all times during the summer but it doesn’t really look that way, at least not yet. It’s just green.

I cleared a space and gently transplanted the delicate newcomers. I even watered them. In order to keep an eye on them, in case I forgot what they looked like, I placed wire sticks with red neon flags next to each one. We never had an invincible dog fence so I can only assume I saved the flags from when CVPS was marking the electricity line. Even that theory is a little odd because the line was put down about 25 years ago and I have about 50 of them. A better theory is that they just appeared by magic.

Once finished, I took the weeds that were downsized and moved them to a condo in the compost pile on the other side of the house. When I returned-literally 2 minutes later- I saw the most beautiful flowers shimmering in the late afternoon sun.

“Oh my gosh! Tulips!” You may recall that tulips are not listed above. The 5 seconds of appreciation and joy was visceral. At 6 seconds I realized the tulips were the newly placed neon flags.

As a reader you may think that I was overcome with embarrassment or worry at my mental (in)capacities, but far from it. I was grateful for a moment of spontaneous joy derived from my own stupidity.

We perceive things through or senses, how our minds react to the information has a lot to do with how we move through life. To some, a wire stick furling a day-glo flag may be an eyesore especially when in contrast to something else. For others it’s just pure color.

Our perceptions are what keep the mind active. The active mind then categorizes the situation and responds or reacts. Things are good/bad, pretty/ugly, unpleasant/pleasant, the worst/the best. That’s what the mind does. It tries to simplify what we think we know, even when the grey area may be the most important. Atman, our true self, sees no distinction between dualities. It accepts things as they are. If we begin to notice how our minds jump to conclusions, we may be better equipped to pause and appreciate what’s in front of us more calmly. Calmness should be right up there with cool outfits as a reason to practice yoga.

Four days later the lupine are still perky. If they decide not to stay and opt for a better neighborhood in the compost pile, I’m okay with that. I know I have some rolls of different colored surveyors tape somewhere. A garden of multi-colored flags could be spectacular, a real no fuss garden.

Namaste- neon tulips are okay!

The Ice-breaker Everyone (I) Hates

Alexandra Langstaff4 Comments

It’s recommended when meeting new people, and old friends, to ask personal questions. It’s easy, everyone loves talking about themselves. It gives you something to discuss other than the weather. Unless of course you’re learning a new language, then weather discussions are advised.

Questions are good not only because they show you’re an interested and curious listener, but also because it makes the person responding feel interesting. That’s a nice thing to do for someone. It breaks the ice. (No pun intended if your discussion is about global warming en francais.)

I like when people ask me why I like teaching and telling stories.

It gives me the opportunity to tell more stories and watch eyes glaze over.

I don’t like the question “ Who is the greatest inspiration in your life?” That one leaves me speechless and makes my eyes blur.

Too many choices: Public figures, family members, fictional characters, spiritual leaders, philanthropic artists, teachers, babysitters…is this a test?

Will I be judged by my response?

Anyone who knows anything knows you should select someone who is universally important (to show worldliness) or someone familial (to show appreciation), then again one may do the latter to stay in the good books.

Speaking of which, what if my inspiration is Eloise who lives in the Plaza Hotel with her dog, Weenie, rather than Jane Eyre who lives in Moor House with ghosts? Does that mean I’m more precocious than principled ?

As a yoga teacher maybe I should choose Pantanjali, the compiler of the Yoga Sutras, or Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom, art, language and music?

Because I’m a woman should it be a woman?

I know a lot of great female teachers and athletes but my pal John was the most talented ski instructor I ever worked with.

He spent a good deal of his career working with children and training others to do the same. One of his jokes I’ll never forget, still gets a roar of approval with a group of 10 or 50 year olds.

“Three moles were trudging in line through an underground tunnel, making their way to Farmer Smith’s cellar, where all kinds of treats were stored.

The first mole said, ‘I smell sugar’.

The second mole said, ‘I smell honey’.

The third mole said ‘All’s I smell is molasses’.”

He taught me the importance of humor in teaching and in learning.

He expanded my appreciation of making the strange familiar and the familiar strange.

He showed me that sometimes the best teachers are not physically the best in their field.

He exemplified a person who was committed to doing and sharing what he loved.

I can’t think of any better qualities in a ski teacher, a yoga teacher, or any teacher.

I can’t think of any better qualities in a human being that would inspire or influence me more.

Well there you have it. Next question?

Namaste- the ice broke today