Being Defined By

In my meditative time recently,  I was thinking about how often people are molded, marked, shaped by certain events in their lives.   Either events, or place, or ideology, or culture, or time of service.   Any of those can be the defining thing in a person's life.   One may be defined by a family, career, talent, disability, accomplishment.

Knowing my husband the way I do,  I would say that without a doubt, the defining aspect of his life was the fact that he grew up on the farm, and all the struggle and challenges,  and complex opportunities that come with that. Even though he has spent his life in academia, even there he focused on agriculture.

Over the course of my life I have observed the deep and lasting impact on individuals who served in the military, particularly during time of war.  Many World War II veterans stay in touch with others with whom they served, for the rest of their lives.  I have personally seen numerous Vietnam veterans who were no longer the same person, following their service. Many still suffer from the stress, decades after the experience.  Their military service is a defining aspect of their entire lives.

I think of some people I know who grew up and have lived their entire lives in the South. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the entire worldview is shaped by that place and culture.   Food and religion are place-specific.  Many of the southerners I have known have been shaped by the messages and expectations that go with that heritage.  Those who do not share the same values are simply dismissed as Yankees.

I feel very fortunate to have lived in many places and to have experienced many cultures.  While there are some distinct disadvantages of not being rooted to place,  overall the positive result is a constant evolution of personality and thought.

Certainly one of the things that has evolved along the way is my Christian worldview.  I have moved along a spectrum of a more fundamentalist background in my youth, to a progressive interpretation of Christian thought in my adulthood.   I have attended different kinds of churches  (Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian) depending upon where I lived and what was available at the time.   I have served as a pastor of a number of United Methodist Churches as an ordained minister, and as an active lay person in many more.  I have attended churches in the south and in the north, in seminary, and in a variety of other contexts.

Although it has been an evolutionary process,  (not static ever) it is clear to me that the defining aspect of my own life is church.  That has been the constant,  the central piece,  despite my location or culture.  I was deeply shaped by the songs and stories of church in my childhood.  I was captivated by the Christian ideals  (though all churches and Christians fall short of that).

My activities, friendships, opportunities for service still center around church, even as a retired senior citizen and retired clergy.

Of course, I have a strong identity as a mother,  as a spouse.  I have had other jobs or professions. There are other aspects of who I am---writer, poet, lyricist, teacher.

But clearly, the most formative aspect of my life is and always has been----church.

Gerry as Ezra

Gerry is a volunteer at the Living History Museum in Homer/Cortland.  It is through that association that he was invited to participate in a lecture series there, and he appeared today as Ezra Cornell.

He told Ezra's story in first person.  The presentation lasted an hour.  It was thorough and excellent.  Gerry was convinced that there would not be anyone there, but in fact he had a really good audience, and they enjoyed it.  The museum has a very nice lecture room where the seats are slanted upward, and the lecturer is at the bottom, and can be seen easily by all.

As I was driving home, thinking about all that Ezra had shared about his life,  it struck me just how much Gerry actually has in common with Ezra Cornell.

 They both grew up on a farm and lived a hard scrabble life and worked hard all their lives.  They both had/have had a life long love affair with agriculture.  They both have always been interested in and intrigued by the mechanical arts and how things work.  Ezra invented many things.  Throughout his career, so did Gerry,  from a cabbage harvester,  to a better way to detect bruises when harvesting apples, to improving the process for coating peanut M&M's.   (Not to mention all the many things he has made or taken apart or fixed or built over the course of his life, from patios to decks,  to water lines, to vacuums, to lawn mowers, to motors,  to cars, to a house and on and on and on the list goes.)

There were two other things that I heard Ezra talk about that reminded me of Gerry.  When Ezra talked about his wife Mary Anne,  he always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. (Both Ezra and Gerry found their wives in Dryden!)

And in Ezra's later years,  he had some frustrations trying to put together an agricultural museum at the University he founded.   It never seemed to catch on and develop the way Ezra Cornell envisioned.

Gerry Rehkugler has spent his years as a professor emeritus trying to collect and re-assemble the items from the original agricultural museum,  many of which have been scattered and lost.   He has also restored many of the model plows that were housed in the original collection.  He also has had frustrations in finding a permanent home for the miniature plow collection.

So not only did I get an excellent view into the life of Ezra Cornell,  but I also discovered how many things Ezra has in common with my husband!

Writing for Health

I found this article on the internet which I thought was so interesting!    Honestly,  I have often wondered why I have enjoyed so much good health for so long!   It would never have occurred to me that there might be a link between good health and writing.   I do enjoy writing of all kinds, and have since I can remember. I've written poems, newsletters, articles, reflections, journal, sermons, novels, blog and so forth.   How very healthy I must be!  (knock on wood, fingers crossed)

By Rachel Grate  September 15, 2014

The benefits of writing go far beyond building up your vocabulary. 

No matter the quality of your prose, the act of writing itself leads to strong physical and mental health benefits, like long-term improvements in mood, stress levels and depressive symptoms. In a 2005 study on the emotional and physical health benefits of expressive writing, researchers found that just 15 to 20 minutes of writing three to five times over the course of the four-month study was enough to make a difference. 

By writing about traumatic, stressful or emotional events, participants were significantly more likely to have fewer illnesses and be less affected by trauma. Participants ultimately spent less time in the hospital, enjoyed lower blood pressure and had better liver functionality than their counterparts. 

It turns out writing can make physical wounds heal faster as well. In 2013, New Zealand researchers monitored the recovery of wounds from medically necessary biopsies on 49 healthy adults. The adults wrote about their thoughts and feelings for just 20 minutes, three days in a row, two weeks before the biopsy. Eleven days later, 76% of the group that wrote had fully healed. Fifty-eight percent of the control group had not recovered. The study concluded that writing about distressing events helped participants make sense of the events and reduce distress.

James W. Pennebaker has been conducting research on writing to heal for years at the University of Texas at Austin. "When people are given the opportunity to write about emotional upheavals, they often experience improved health," Pennebaker writes. "They go to the doctor less. They have changes in immune function." 

Why? Pennebaker believes this act of expressive writing allows people to take a step back and evaluate their lives. Instead of obsessing unhealthily over an event, they can focus on moving forward. By doing so, stress levels go down and health correspondingly goes up. 

You don't have to be a serious novelist or constantly reflecting on your life's most traumatic moments to get these great benefits. Even blogging or journaling is enough to see results. One study found that blogging might trigger dopamine release, similar to the effect from running or listening to music.

From long-term health improvements to short-term benefits like sleeping better, it's official: Writers are doing something right. 

 +++++++

The Month of September

We have a large and complicated family, and therefore, many dates on the calendar to celebrate.  His, Mine, Ours, Grandchildren, Anniversaries, etc.

September is one of the fuller months in our year.

After the most recent wedding, there are now three wedding anniversaries in September---mine and Gerry's, and two of our daughters, V and P.  (I'll just refer to them by letter, as I do not have permission to discuss them on my blog.)

There are also two birthdays.  Two daughters share the 16th  of September for their birthdays.   P was born first, and when I was pregnant,  I remember telling her that I would try very very hard not to have the baby on her birthday. She was turning 10 years old.

Birth on the 16th would not have happened, except it was such a long labor.  Technically, it should have happened on the 15th, because labor started that morning.  V was actually due on the 14th.   But alas, things don't always go as planned, and indeed, V was born on P's birthday, (the following afternoon).   I think that now they have resolved their shared birthday issues and find it,  if not thrilling,  at least interesting.

I do vividly remember standing on a chair and tying streamers from the kitchen light fixture for P's birthday before going to the hospital. I also hung our Happy Birthday banner.   On the way home from the hospital Gerry bought P an ice cream birthday cake.

Families are complex entities.  And life itself is unpredictable.  Anything can happen at any time. And does.

We have refused to let our anniversary be usurped by sadness and loss, even though it happened on the eleventh day of the month of September.

Perfect Biscuits

For some reason,  I have always wanted to be able to make perfect biscuits.  I'm not really sure why that is.   Perhaps it goes back to a story my mother told about the first time she ever made biscuits when she was young.  They did not turn out well, and the way the story goes,  her brothers took them outside and played baseball with them.  Maybe that planted the seed about making lovely biscuits in my mind and hopes.  

I do know that as an adult cooking for her family,  biscuits were not something that my mother cooked, as far as I can remember.   Yeast rolls, yes.  Cornbread, yes.  Just not biscuits.

I've tried quite a few times in recent years.  I've heard and read that you should not overwork your dough because it makes it tough.

Today,  I watched a video on Pinterest from Southern Living which gave clear step by step how-to directions on making beautiful biscuits.   What I discovered is that I have been under working my dough.   You do have to roll it out and fold it over in order to get those lovely layers.

I even went to the store to buy the specific brand of flour that was recommended.  There was no such brand in my stores.  I suspect that  the brand suggested it is a  regional, southern brand.

The other "secret" was in using a box grater to grate the butter, making sure it started out frozen.

I was very very happy with the finished product.   They are the fluffiest, most golden brown and delicious biscuits I have ever made.   I think my mother would be impressed!

I entertained myself today, on a dark and rainy and gray day, with cooking.   Cooking is an artistic and creative activity.

Cilla's Day

The weekend was filled with celebrations of our daughter Cilla and Ian's wedding!  What a joyous event it was!  I've never seen so much joy contained all in one place!   That came not only from the bride and groom, but also from long time friends of the bride and groom,  their families and siblings and their families,  the parents and grandparents,  the children and babies and dogs and all the guests.

This was not the kind of wedding that usually happens these days.  It was an informal, outside, do-it-yourself affair.   The ceremony took place at the upper park, by the waterfall.   Come to think of it,  the outside and rocks and waterfall and nature was the overall theme of the wedding and reception.  The reception took place at the lower park in the Reception Hall, a beautiful facility.

Cilla did all the decorating herself, and also made all of the food!  I don't know how she did so many things.  It was marvelous.  She and her friends and loved ones decorated the upper park, where the ceremony took place, as well as the reception hall.  

It was definitely a family affair.   Gerry walked the bride down the aisle.  I officiated.  Three nieces were flower girls.  Papa Joe did a reading.  Ian's Dad did a toast.  Daughter V acted as the event photographer and took 400+ of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen.

 What is posted here is a waterfall wedding cake, made by the bride herself, completely edible,  with fog coming off the stream!     A waterfall comes out of the center of the cake.   There is even a bridge over the waterfall, just below the upper layer.   After the ceremony, those who wished to hiked the trail from the upper park to the lower for the reception.   Lots of pictures were taken on the bridge.

This is one impressive and original cake.  

The bride and groom are also originals!  

Playing Doubles

It is only recently that Gerry and I have played more seriously as doubles partners   (meaning playing against opponents other than daughter and son-in-law).   For most of our tennis playing years, we played against one another across the net.

This year,  Gerry's men's group  needed a sub, and I filled in.  Somehow, I managed to get to be a regular in that group.  Different members travel and so different players come in and out of the group over time.

Right now, Suzie is the one who is subbing for a regular player who is out of town for a few weeks.  It is fun to play against Suzie.  For one thing,  she has passionate feelings about everything, and expresses them.  "I hated that game."  "I loved that game."

Experiencing Suzie's emotional reactions has caused me to reflect on why it is that I am so different.  It is an interesting phenomena.   I not only do not display very much emotional response to play,  I also do not feel much.  That is not to say that I am not competitive.  I am,  fiercely, and certainly want to win.

Upon reflecting, I figured this out.   For the first twenty years of my tennis playing life,  I played against Gerry.  I do remember times of being so frustrated and angry I wanted to scream and throw darts at him and spit fire. Then eventually,  for the sake of our marriage,  I learned not to really care. I left my emotions at home.   I  just went out to hit balls.   Over time,  I have gotten to the point of winning more and more of our games.  Now we do it for the exercise and for the love of the game.  And as it has turned out, we are a formidable team, even when we play against our twenty-something kids.

When we play tennis,  I feel like a real athlete, which is not something I have never felt before.  And I do love that feeling.    I hope we will be able to enjoy this sport for a long time to come!