While I bemoan the loss of my favorite chef from the Destin scene, I celebrate the successes of my favorite Destin Italian restauranteur, Guglielmo. We've known Gug for over 20 years now. His restaurants consistently serve up the best pastas, pizzas, and Italian Secondi this side of Milano. Over the past decade, Gug has opened variations on his Florida restaurants as far away as Pennsylvania, with other points in between. I'm on pins and needles now because he's expressed an interest in opening his Ciao Bella Pizza restaurant in my own Franklin, TN!
When my husband and I plan vacations, one of the most important facets of our planning is deciding which restaurants we will enjoy during those travels. We've eaten delicious foods with celebrity chefs, and we've eaten fabulous offerings at tiny "mom & pop" settings. We've ventured off our itineraries and dropped into pubs and tavernas that have become some of our greatest food memories. However, our ultimate food memories come from the summer of 2008 when we ate in Destin with Chef Michael Sichel.
Spurred on by the recent activity in the US House of Representatives, several of my young adult friends have asked my thoughts on the idea of Cap and Trade. The following article appeared in the July 2009 issue of The Tennessee Magazine on pages 6 and 7. Written by David Callis, it reports the current status of the legislation under consideration in the Congress from the electric cooperative's point of view:
It’s a sultry summer day in Tennessee. My hubby and I have finally caught up on the pressing chores of the day and have settled in the backyard beside the creek. The most exciting thing going on out here is watching my female cardinal defend her spot in the creek that tumbles through our yard. At the pinnacle of “mid-life,” David and I are blessed with good health, relative security, and, most importantly, a wonderful family, particularly our son. Today, I’m even more mindful of the blessings of life because one of our classmates lost his life Thursday. That classmate is Michael Jackson.
As we sit here relaxing in the peace of our quiet Southern backyard, we’re listening to a satellite radio station that is playing, with no interruptions, the music that flowed from Michael Jackson. I can tell you how old both he and we were when he recorded each song that is playing. From going to our first boy-girl parties and dancing to the early tunes of the Jackson 5, to recognizing both the talent and the confusion underneath his and our gawky mid-teen years, and, finally, to coming to his own with Thriller and Billie Jean – all his songs parallel these stages of our lives. As a Motown girl, the music of Michael Jackson is the sound track of most of my life.
Today, I weep for the great talent and notoriety that came to rob my classmate of the vast riches that David and I share, for we live extraordinarily ordinary lives. Lives free to watch birds frolic in the creek, to attend public gatherings like last night’s hockey draft party, to stroll the streets of Europe unnoticed.
Both David and I are fairly recognizable in our own small worlds, but we have no claim to fame. And that, to me, is an extraordinary blessing.
Rest in peace, dear classmate.
How many things can break in one week? The list has grown to a humorous length. You know the feeling; you just have to laugh or cry, and laughing is much better. After all, it's just stuff, right?
This morning my sweet husband is out splicing the internet cable after we cut it planting new shrubs. This is his third attempt. He's been working for a week on it. Now, however, he's learned a new fact about cable wires that seems to assure success. He's learned so much about wires this week that he would not have known except for his repeated failures to restore the internet service.
My mother, a brilliant woman who isn't afraid to learn new technology even as she approaches her 80s, installed a new modem for her computer this week. Unfortunately, her lack of mobility caused her to insert her programming CD into the wrong slot on her hard drive. But now she's learned more than she'd ever anticipated because of her failed original attempt at loading the CD.
Last week our satellite dishes (yes, we live way out in the county) were hit by lightning. I tried for days to realign and reprogram them. I learned so much about satellite dishes from all my trials and errors. And, indeed, I finally got the dishes to work, but only after I'd made attempt upon attempt that ended in failure.
I love to be consoled by the famous quotes of successful people from history relating to their own failures and successes. One of my favorite quotations was said by one of my favorite men from history, Sir Winston Churchill, "Success is the ability to go from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm." Another favorite comes from Henry Ford, "Failure is only the opportunity to begin again, only this time more wisely." These great men understood that the only true failure occurs when we give up, when we refuse to try one more time.
I suppose my favorite story of spectacular failures is found in the Scriptures. It is the story of King David. We don't think of him as being a failure because the story of his entire life is one that shows he continued to fall but get back up again. In one of his great poems, Psalm 51, he confesses one his most spectacular failures, that of his affair with the wife of one of his generals, a general David subsequently has murdered. Here David looks his great failure full in its ugly face and vows, with God's great mercy, to rise up from that failure and pursue a successful course of service of sacrificial living according to God's plan, not his own plan:
Make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence and take not thy holy spirit from me.
Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation and uphold me with thy free spirit.
My own failures seldom bring physically broken bones but they often cause emotionally broken bones of heart and mind. But, like King David, I can "hear joy and gladness" as my bones rejoice when I rise from failure and aim once again for success.
I spent the day with my parents yesterday. Usually, I jump onto the interstate highway and zoom down to maximize the time I have to spend with them. We share lunch, run errands together, work on maintenance issues, and end the visit with a long talk about family history. Then, I blaze my way through town back to interstate and zip back to Franklin.
Yesterday was different, though, because I offered to give one of their friends a ride home. Though her path ran close to my own path, this divergence from my 20-year routine caused me to consider following a different route home. I had forgotten how much I love the vistas of my homeland until I set aside my haste to return to my routine and instead chose to live in that moment. I determined to follow the backroads home -- not just the major highways that have served as swift conveyance for the generations of automobiles these past 100 years. No, I decided to follow the county roads, the old roads, the paths that hug along the various creeks and branches, that climb up and creep along the top of the ridges of the hills and then plummet into the valleys. It was a heaven-sent decision.
In my opinion, Middle Tennessee is blessed with some of the most beautiful geography on this earth. I often comment that the earliest settlers from Europe felt right at home as this land looks so much like the rolling hills of Scotland and Ireland. Yesterday, I hugged the Pigeon Roost Creek and indulged in the cool relief there from the extreme heat that rolled along the valleys. I climbed from these hollows to the ridges where the viewsheds caught my breath and forced me to pull off the road and admire. Miles and miles of rolling hills embracing verdant valleys, tinged with the haze of summer heat. The colors of those valleys ran from the deep green of those covered in acres of growing corn to the burnished gold of hay fields ready for cutting and back to the green of fields dotted with newly-rolled hay bales. If only the great French Impressionists had seen Middle Tennessee, they would have forgone France. I passed farm after farm where the horses ran across the green meadows, where the cows grazed along the cool creek banks, where the pigs slumbered in the shaded mudflats. The decision to take the slow road was one of my best decisions in ages.
Bishop Kallistos Ware spends a meaty chapter in his work The Orthodox Way encouraging his readers to look to the beauty of nature to catch a glimpse of its Creator. Yesterday, I caught more than a glimpse -- I was overwhelmed by the works of the hand of the Creator, who reminded me to slow down, breathe, and enjoy the beauty of the world that lies just off the routine path.
*Airmont Hay Bales Morning Painting by Timothy Chambers
Good-bye honey truck, hello rocks. A mini sewage treatment plant called BIOROCK beats conventional septic systems on every level. Using rocks as a medium, BIOROCK needs little or no electricity, requires less maintenance, and produces a super-clean effluent. It’s scalable down to use for individual homes. Farms, campgrounds, trailer parks, corporate parks, subdivisions and vacation spots are other likely uses. BIOROCK was developed in the Netherlands and has been kicking around Europe for a number of years. Recently it made the jump to Ireland and Canada, so it could be only a matter of time before it pops up in the U.S.
More Efficient Sewage Treatment on a Small Scale
BIOROCK consists of a modular block, installed underground like a septic tank. In the first treatment chamber, solids are trapped and digested anaerobically. The company claims that this chamber requires emptying only every 3-4 years. The second chamber treats the effluent through an aerobic process. It contains layers of fibrous rock in netting, which are exposed to air through a natural updraft, or chimney effect. Aerobic bacteria grow inside the rock matrix, aided by the updraft, and digest the suspended solids. BIOROCK U.K. reports that the effluent beats European standards for small sewage treatment plants, EN 12566-3 2005 and EN 12566-7 2006.
Sustainable Sewage Treatment
BIROCK’s ease of maintenance, simple installation, and use of recyclable materials helps contribute to a low carbon footprint. The BIOROCK process itself requires no electricity, and it is designed to discharge effluent by gravity into a waterway.
Sewage Treatment Off the Grid
Sewage treatment is one of the stickiest dilemmas that off-grid building designers face, especially in urban areas. The BIROCK system offers one solution for sites where a gravity discharge is not possible and pumping is required. Small scale solar panel and wind turbine components are available to help keep the system off-grid. The system could also prove useful for off-grid second homes or eco-vacation spots, even when they are not used year-round. It can be left dormant for long periods of time without damage, and it can be restarted within a day or so compared several weeks for a conventional septic system start-up.
Note: BIOROCK is not to be confused with the Biorock method of restoring coral reefs.
Reprinted with permission from Cleantechnica
Every day we read and hear in the various media the hue and cry for Americans to become energy independent. Though our nation has vast resources available of coal and oil, our leaders seem determined to pursue alternative sources of fuel. With all the hot air that comes from Washington and state capitals, I cannot understand why wind energy hasn't overtaken oil as the most accessible resource. However, as the owner of a farm windmill, I deeply dislike the toll the turbines take on our flying friends.
The Zanker Road Biogas facility would be the first facility in the U.S. with the technology to turn organic waste into bio-gas, keeping San Jose at the forefront of clean technology innovations. The technology that would find its home at the San Jose facility would use a process known as dry anaerobic fermentation to generate renewable bio-gas and high-quality compost.
I suppose this technology is perfect for our most populous state, which generates loads of manure. Now, if only San Jose can just make sure that all its inhabitants flush their contributions into the sewers. Perhaps that cause will generate a new facet to the environmentally friendly classes taught at its schools: Recycling, Global Warming, Flushing.
My Tuesday book group is drawing into the final chapters of Meletios Webber's Bread & Water, Wine & Oil. It's been a thought-provoking study these past several months, and, given the topic of these last chapters, it won't go out with a whimper. This week's topic is one that polarizes most of humanity. We even have a rhetorical device to cover its discussion, Euphemism. This week's topic is Sickness and Death.
As a woman who is dealing with a chronic illness, I found much truth in Webber's comments. I offer below a few of his comments:
Sickness is one of the ways in which we are strongly encouraged to come into focus and to look at a variety of serious and important subjects: the significance of life, what it means to be alone, what it means to be dependent on other people, fear and desire, hope and anxiety, loneliness, isolation, and, ultimately, death. ...
Sickness and distress do get our attention. Sickness, in particular, accentuates the fact that we do not control our own lives. ...
We have to learn to sit back and be taken care of, rather than attempting to be in control. (162)
Healing leads to a new life; death also leads to a new life.
God is like a parent sitting through the night at the bedside of a sick child, caring and waiting, watching for possible signs of improvement.... (163)
There is a strong awareness ... the sick person is in the hands of God, and that God will provide healing. ... [anointing] is a solmn commitment by the sick person ... to place himself or herself completely and without reservation into the hands of God. (164)
I ... have to be aware that one day, by God's grace, I will be anointed and I will not recover from whatever physical condition is causing me trouble. That anointing, too, will be for "healing of soul and body," not an effort doomed to failure. (167)
To push death away is to push away life itself. (164)
As with other philosophical foundations of life, one's perspective of sickness and death reveals much about that person. I myself am in this stream of God's eternity, enjoying this moment, this viewshed, but always ready to be carried around the bend to see what He has in store for me there. And I know it will be ineffable.
*Painting by Edvard Munch, Sick Child, 1907.
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