Late Summer Sunsets (and Other Photos)

Tonight Travalon and I had dinner at Mariner's, facing the sunset. I took a picture of the sunset with a tiki torch in front of it, but it didn't really turn out. Anyway, here are some photos and a video from our most recent adventures, including some sunset pictures that did turn out.

Whenever I go for a walk in the garden near work, the koi think I am going to feed them, and they swim over as fast as they can and congregate in front of me.

Here is a photo from the Union Terrace.

These are the colorful donuts from the book signing party.

This ear of corn with three leaves growing out of it is in a plot right near mine.

Here are some sadder photos, some of the last that might be taken of Travalon's childhood parish, St. Mary's of Pewaukee. First is the inside, then the front, and then the side.

Here are a couple of shots I took of the sunset we saw from Liliana's on Tuesday. Travalon liked the first one the best, and I liked the second one the best.

This pink water lily is not in the Allen Centennial Garden pond but the Botany Department pond.

Last night we went out on the dock and watched the sunset, and we saw this lone little water bird. At first I thought it was a very little duck, but it dove under the water, and it actually looked more like a tiny grebe. Maybe it was a coot...? But I never see those by themselves.

And here are two shots I took three seconds apart of the sunset that evening. Funny how one shot is golden and the other one is purple.

Here are some pretty flowers blooming outside my office building. Lots of cock's comb, which my colleague tells me is the same in Chinese. I mean, the name in Chinese is whatever is the Mandarin words for a rooster's comb.

And finally, here is a little bit of the second half of the song "Method of Modern Love" performed by Hall and Oates. The song seems to have two distinct halves, and I absolutely love the second half.

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Finding My "Mamacita"

I forgot to mention one thing about our visit to the lake house on Monday: Travalon’s buddy’s uncle is in the hospital, but when the family went to visit him, the staff had trouble locating him. He had come in by helicopter without any ID on him, and this hospital assigns people like that the default name “[herb] Doe” so that this guy was still under the name Thyme Doe. They were surprised about this, and then one of them (the buddy’s mom?) said, “What if they had assigned him the herb Dill?” So this system doesn’t seem that well thought out, unless they avoid that particular herb…

As my regular readers know, about six years ago I learned that I have Sub-Saharan African on my mother’s side, and more recently the website has refined it to being from Nigeria. This explains why Ma Hat could trace the family tree to men on the plantation, but not their wives. I had created a rudimentary family tree on the website, and just today I got an email that they had found a match for me. Someone had created a family tree that even includes me, although they think I am two days younger than I actually am. But what really fascinated me is how far this genealogy went back. There was a woman, we’ll call her “Lucinda,” who is my great-great-grandmother, and I remember years ago seeing a photo of her and thinking, “She has incredibly dark eyes for someone of British heritage!” Lucinda was descended from the people who lived on this plantation, so I was excited to see ancestors beyond her. There was a point where the women trailed off, but were any of these people slaves? I am so fascinated. I sent a message to the woman who created this family tree – we’ll see if she has any insights! I’d love to find the woman who came over in chains from Nigeria! True confession: in Cuba I bought a tiny black doll dressed in traditional West African clothes, and I call her “Mamacita.” She represents this mysterious ancestor of mine, since I don’t know anything about her. But Mamacita was a real person, and I suddenly feel closer to knowing who she really was.

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Gender Balance in Spirituality

Hey readers, did you ever know someone who was never there for you? The person who made it abundantly clear you could never count on them for support? And then they wanted you to care about what happens in their life when the going gets rough for them? What is the proper way to handle such a person? My go-to solution is the Silent Treatment rather than reminding them how little they have cared about me ever, but this can’t be an uncommon problem so I’d be curious to know how other people handle it.

One issue I have noticed in religious debates is the Masculine versus the Feminine. For example, it never really bothered me that the Christian Trinity is God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit because I know God encompasses both masculine and feminine, and we have to refer to Him somehow so for whatever reason masculine became the default. This does not preclude the feminine. Liturgies that lift the mind to celestial things go beyond this debate, but lately there seems to be a lot of hyper-masculinity in Christianity, and it is starting to drive me crazy. In the past I always liked a balance, but now I feel myself being drawn to a more feminine spirituality to counteract the toxic masculinity. Neither machismo nor touchy-feely spirituality is really what we are called to, but lately I am drifting toward a nature-centered, fertility-driven, peace-loving, earthy spirituality to counterbalance all this “Church Militant,” androcentric stuff. I think this is something both sides have to be very careful about, maybe especially men because they always think what they prefer is the default rather than their own preferences. If they are not careful, they will drive away a lot of women, and when you’ve lost the women, you’ve lost the religion because nobody is passing it on to the next generation. As the ancient Hebrews correctly ascertained, you are the religion of your mother. So let me make this plea to keep Christianity well-balanced from a gender perspective, because frankly you are losing me right now.

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Sailing and Kayaking and Hall and Oates

I hope that my readers had a good weekend. Sorry for my silence, but Thursday evening Travalon and I were on the Union Terrace until late in the evening, and Friday we had dinner at the Nau-Ti-Gal, so there wasn’t time to blog either day.

Saturday Travalon and I met Richard Bonomo and OK Cap for coffee, then they both came over to our house, Rich to help with plumbing issues and OK Cap to pray the rosary. OK Cap and I went to a book release party at the Dream Bank, and Travalon met us there. The book was about fighting "adultitis," so there were fun crafts and toys and brightly-colored donuts with sprinkles. It had been a strange day weather-wise, but later in the afternoon it got nicer so Travalon and I went to my garden plot and took a hike on Governor’s Island. Then we went to evening Mass at the church near our house before going to watch the Madison Forward play against the Richmond Kickers again. This time they beat them 1-0. Revenge is sweet!

The reason we went to Mass on Saturday was so that Sunday we could go to Travalon’s hometown of Pewaukee and attend the last-ever service at his childhood church, Historic St. Mary’s. The school closed three years ago, so the church has been rented out to a non-denominational church that has taken good care of the 150-year-old building. Sadly, the merged parish that owns the building wants to sell it to a developer to build high-priced senior housing, and they plan to tear it down next Sunday. I was extremely angry about this, but the pastor at the service we attended gave a sermon about how we can be like drinking fountains: bursting out all over everything, barely putting forth any effort, or producing a good stream. I thought yeah, I shouldn’t be that first drinking fountain, and then the Holy Spirit gave me the idea to bombard the merged parish’s email with scriptural quotes showing how evil they are being, like “Mene Mene Tekel Parsin.” (One of the creepiest stories in the Bible.) Will this work? Who knows? Today I sent them yet another message, but so far they haven’t responded. And I don’t really need them to – I just need them to change their evil ways. Then Travalon and I had lunch at Seesters, a Mexican restaurant on the shores of Pewaukee Lake, and then we drove to Oconomowoc and hung out with his mom on the shores of Lake LaBelle. Best of all, when we got back into town, our neighbor took us sailing on Lake Mendota, and it was a windy day so we really got some speed. When we were returning in the channel, where it is more sheltered, and the jib sail was down, our neighbor had me take the rudder and I really felt like I was in Heaven, steering the calmly sailing boat between the sylvan shores. Which is funny, because I also feel like I am in Heaven when I go to my garden plot, so is Heaven like both of those things? Like neither of them? Who knows? In the evening we returned to Breese Stevens Field, this time to see Hall and Oates perform. We knew every song they did except one that sounded like Steely Dan. Which of course meant it was great.

Yesterday Travalon had the day off of work, so I took it off too. Of course it was the one rainy day in the forecast, but that made it wonderful for sleeping in! Then we drove to the lake house his college buddy is renting on the shores of Waubeesee Lake. It was too drizzly out to have lunch on the patio overlooking the lake, but we sat in the screened-in porch overlooking the lake and played a card game we had never played before with this guy’s mom and stepdad, who barely beat me. When the rain let up a little, we went kayaking, but of course I fell in while trying to get into my kayak. We paddled around an island and into an inlet, then after our clothes had dried (Travalon got wet too), we went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. Despite the weather, it was a fabulous day off!

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Spectacular Sunset

Today after work I went to the usual temporary bus stop to catch the bus home, and it struck me as odd that nobody else was waiting for the bus, but then my attention was caught by a hawk soaring in place - I don't remember ever seeing that before. It soared over to another spot and then resumed soaring in place, and some little birds flew at it like they were trying to chase it away. Then another person came to wait, so I felt a little better until suddenly realizing the temporary bus stop sign was gone. Just then a third person came and said the bus stop had been moved to the original spot, so I ran down the hill just in time to see my bus pulling away. I decided to walk to another bus stop further down the line, since there was a 15-minute wait for the next bus, but just as I got two stops down, the 27 bus arrived so I took it. Now my usual bus, the 28, goes straight from campus to the North Transfer Point, but the 27 really meanders. Still, it only got me to the North Transfer Point ten minutes after the 28 would have.

After dinner, Travalon and I went to my garden plot and weeded for twenty minutes, then we came home and played tennis for twenty minutes, until I noticed how beautiful the sunset looked through the trees. We went out on the dock and enjoyed the truly stunning sunset, then we went to Mariner's for ice cream drinks, and the proprietor concurred that it was perhaps the best sunset of the summer. Of course I have pictures.

First is my orange calla lily - now it has three blossoms!

Next are some photos from our tubing adventure on Sunday. Here the boys set off down the river.

Travalon's college buddy, the one who got married in Hawaii, wanted a picture in front of the big pile of tubes at the tubing place, so I obliged.

Then they said Cali and I should have our picture taken in front of the tubes, even though we hiked.

I finally got a picture of the bald cardinal, but it didn't really turn out. He is sitting on the end of this bench.

Here is the sunset from Monday evening. It was better from the boat, but it was still going when we returned to the dock so I took a picture of it.

And finally, tonight's sunset. It really is amazing how I can be impressed by these things when they are a nightly event, but I never get enough of them. First is a shot of a blooming bush contrasted against the pink sky as we went out to the dock, and the second photo is the full-on sunset.

See what I mean? We just sat watching it for twenty minutes, since tonight twenty minutes seemed to be our thing. That's why we got ice cream drinks - after twenty minutes of gardening and twenty minutes of singles tennis, my diet app said we had burned more than enough calories to have one!

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Sunset from the Boat

Last night Travalon and I went for a boat ride back into the marsh, and it was so beautiful in the golden evening light, full of blooming lotuses and those tiny dragonflies I have heard called damselflies. Tons of them landed on me. Lots of swallows were darting around overhead, and I saw one that looked like it was being chased by a big dragonfly, but I think they just happened to be flying the same direction. We also saw a majestic blue heron that made a very loud, strange sound like a strangled dog. Suddenly the boat's motor stopped because it was clogged with weeds; Travalon pulled the weeds off the rotors, but the motor refused to start. We paddled for twenty minutes, which is a good workout and burns quite a few calories per my diet app, and then the motor cooperatively started up again so we went out into the lake. The downtown looked so beautiful with the setting sun reflecting off the buildings – a few of them looked like they were golden, or even on fire. The water had pink and golden swirls reflected from the sunset. I know there is a sunset every day, but I still never get over how beautiful they are. And seeing them from the water is the best way to appreciate them!

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Attacked by Creatures in the Water!

I hope my readers had a good weekend. Mine started on Friday evening, when Travalon and I went to the Monona Terrace to dance on the roof to a salsa band. Then we had a late fish dinner on the patio at Waypoint – walleye, yum! And I had a delicious sour cherry beer from Belgium.

Saturday morning Travalon and I did two of the three volunteer hours required by the gardens, then we drove to Palmyra to swim at their wonderful beach. While I was floating on the inflatable raft, a fish tried to pull my finger off, which was more shocking than painful. I screamed, and Travalon wondered what was wrong. After that I got off the raft and swam, figuring the fish could see I was bigger than they were if all of me was in the water, as opposed to a dangling digit they must have mistaken for a worm. I had thought Palmyra was the location of a rest stop I remembered on a fundraising bike tour I had been on two decades earlier, but it didn’t look anything like I remembered, so Travalon and I drove around to Waterville and Delafield trying to find this place. Finally we went to Oconomowoc to visit his mother, and it suddenly occurred to me that the lovely beach I remembered from that long-ago bike ride was probably the same one I was so familiar with from attending concerts with Travalon and his mother. We were unable to take his mother to the beach that evening, but we took her across the street in the skyway to go sit by the side of the lake. We saw a pontoon boat with a giant inflatable birthday cake on it. It was such a beautiful evening. When we got back to Madison, Travalon and I went to Africa Fest for a very late but tasty dinner of peanut chicken stew, and I bought a couple of pairs of earrings. Then we went to Mother Fool’s for a very late latte; I had a decaf one, but Travalon says he has no trouble sleeping after drinking coffee, so he had a full-strength mocha.

Yesterday I overslept and had no voice, so we went to Mass at Westport. Then we met Cali and Travalon’s old college buddy in Albany for cheeseburgers before tubing. The Center Tavern was full of people, which seemed odd considering how beautiful it was outside. Travalon said there was one woman who was there when we first got there, and as we were leaving town hours later, he saw her emerge from the tavern to smoke a cigarette. Imagine spending your whole beautiful Sunday afternoon in a pub! Cali and I decided to hike instead of tubing, partly to get some exercise and partly to leave the guys alone to reminisce, and we hiked for six miles on the verdant Sugar River Trail, praying the rosary in a mix of English and Spanish. Travalon and his buddy were tubing happily down the river when some other people asked his buddy if he wanted a beer. They tossed it to him but didn’t throw it quite far enough, so he dove off his tube to rescue it. He thought the river was only knee-deep, but it was over his head, and he is well over six feet tall! He did manage to rescue the beer (a Coors Lite – was it even worth it??) but couldn’t get back onto his tube, so he tried to swim over to the shore with the beer in one hand and the tube in the other. Just as he approached the shore, he startled a muskrat that swam right toward him, veered off, and ran into Travalon’s tube. That shocked the bejeebers out of both of them! After that adventure, the four of us drove to New Glarus and had a wonderful dinner with delightful conversation at a Swiss restaurant. What a fantastic day! 

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