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I Love Storms

Posted in Art, Journeys, Uncategorized on August 14, 2014| 10 Comments »

“Storms make trees take deeper roots.” – Dolly Parton

“A Storm — Shipwreck” by Joseph Mallord William Turner. Turner’s many storm paintings, like this one, capture both the fury of Mother Nature and her amazing light. He’s one of my favorite artists.

And So Did William Turner

I sat on my balcony two days ago, ignoring the drops of rain that blew into my face, watching as Mother Nature had a temper tantrum. While three dogs, my own canine companion, Pepper, and two I was dog-sitting, all tried to get in my lap at once for comfort, I reveled in the awesome concert created by rain slamming hard against the ground, the sky exploding with jagged streaks of light, and the thunderous claps that punctuated the air.

The aftermath of the storm here at my apartment was a huge fallen branch from a tree that appeared to have been struck by lightning. — Photo by Pat Bean

As I watched, I thought of Joseph Mallord William Turner, whom I once wrote a paper on for a college art class. This nineteenth-century English painter, whose canvases often captured the intensity of storms at sea, was said to have once tied himself to the mast of a ship so he could fully feel Mother Nature’s fury.

I envy him.

Why, I wonder, do I get such pleasure from something that can, and often does, wreak havoc on our planet? Why do I not cower when lightning lights up the sky and thunder booms its response — as does a friend of mine who literally hides in bed during a serious thunder storm?

One of the favorite memories of my time living in a small RV for nine years, was the morning I lay in my over-the-cab bed at Kickapoo State Park in Illinois as a mountain of rain pinged off the metal roof so close above me. I had never before felt as close to a storm as I did this one.

It was a real doozy of a tempest, too, one that caused the trees surrounding me to shake and sway and bend and dance beneath a psychedelic lightning-lit sky, while overhead the air vibrated with the quaking bass voices of rage.

I loved every moment of it. And now I wonder what that says about me?

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Great old Broads for Wilderness http://greatoldbroads.org/ If you’re an old broad like me, or even if you’re not, you might find this web site of interest. Their mission is one I support. I agree 100 percent with what Edward Abbey said. “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.”

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Instant Friendship

Posted in Uncategorized on August 3, 2014| 8 Comments »

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’” ― C.S. Lewis

The bond that cements these friendships is that we’re all writers.

The Bonding Moment

Twenty three beautiful women, way past their beauty-queens days, met for lunch and margaritas and fun yesterday here in Tucson. I was blessed to be one of them.

And the bond for these friendships was a wild and crazy two years in Twin Falls, Idaho.

My left table neighbor was a delightful woman who kept interrupting me. I absolutely loved it. Most of my really good friends are people who do the same thing. They get so enthused about an idea that pops into their head that they just can’t wait for a polite interval to express it.

I’m like that. But to be polite and not annoying, I’m always trying to keep my enthusiasm in check, which means I’m the only annoyed person

So to meet a woman who didn’t mind interruptions, and who could continue to carry on a conversation through them, felt great.

And when my new found friend, aware of her propensity for talking a lot and interrupting people, apologized for her behavior, I could only laugh and tell her I felt that I had been doing the same thing.

It was a friendship-making moment.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Eye-Dancer http://tinyurl.com/p325wng Revisiting the Wizard of Oz – as a writer.

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Characters

Posted in Books, Journeys, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged characters, moms, pat bean on May 20, 2014| 3 Comments »

“Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don’t turn up at all.” – Sam Ewing

“Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character.” – Albert Einstein

My mother riding on the back of my brother's motorcycle when she was in her 70s. She was a real character, worthy of being a role mode for my fictional characters.

My mother riding on the back of my brother’s motorcycle when she was in her 70s. She was a real character, worthy of being a role model for my fictional characters.

Thinking About Creating Them

Back in my early teen years, I thought the way to be liked was to be nice and smile all the time. And it worked. But over the years, it turned me into a thin character, one whom people may have liked, but gained me little respect.

I love Maxine’s character. Don’t you?

It took my mother, a feisty, plain spoken, quick-tempered, cigarette smoking (until she quit cold turkey at the age of 76 because the “damn” things became too expensive), to make me look at things differently. My kids adored her, and I had to wonder why.

It was her rough edges. And so, while I’m still nice and do smile

One of my favorite characters was Molly Ivins Now that’s whom I would like to grow up to be.

a lot, I began to let the imperfect edges of my character leak out. I liked it – and evidently so did others because I gained more friends, and one of the nicest compliments I ever received was from a younger friend who told everyone “I want to be just like Pat Bean when I grow up.”

Currently I’m involved in a writing project with my oldest daughter, Deborah. After attending a writing workshop together,about the value of writing 20 minutes a day that Len Leatherwood taught during the Story Circle Network conference in Austin last month, we are both doing just that. Her project is a fantasy book that she has been playing around with for years. Mine is also a fantasy book that I’m making up as I go.

To keep us on track, we’ve established a slackers’ jar that is collecting quarters, one for each day one of us doesn’t write on our projects for 20 minutes a day. So far I’ve contributed a $1 to the jar, and my daughter only one quarter. She is also writing more in her 20 minutes a day than I am.

Right now I’m stuck on giving my characters character – the same way I was stuck for far too many years giving myself one. Ouch!

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: 20 Minutes a Day http://lenleatherwood.wordpress.com/ Thought you might want to see Len’s blog after I mentioned her. She mostly sits down at the end of her long days and writes whatever pops into her head.. It’s kind of a public diary, but I’ve gotten inspiration from many of those blogs. She is also an illustration, compared to me who must write early in the day or I don’t write, of how different writers write.

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Flotsam and Jetsam

Posted in Uncategorized on May 7, 2014| 7 Comments »

I’m always peeking at other people’s bookshelves, and so I thought I would give you a peek at mine. While I read many books on my Kindle, I still read print books, too. And these are ones that I’m currently reading, and which sit on my computer desk.

“Don’t start your day with the broken pieces of yesterday…” – Unknown

A Big Brown Dictionary

A long time ago, before I knew happily ever after only happened in fairy tales, I read with a dictionary nearby. It was a big, old brown book with scars on its cover, and tattered page edges that I found in a wooden cabinet that was stuffed with all my grandfather’s abandoned books. He died when I was two, and I claimed the bookcase and its contents even before I learned to read.

This is one of my living room book shelves.

The books were ones my grandfather had collected over the years, and included many of the classics, like the works of Edgar Allen Poe and Robert Louis Stevenson. These books contained many strange words to one who was only just learning to read. But when I came across a word whose meaning I couldn’t figure out, I got out that grand old dictionary.

I didn’t know it then but that dictionary and all those books, which nobody else in the family wanted, provided me the perfect apprenticeship for becoming a writer.

While most of the words I looked up have faded in my memory, I still remember how I felt the day I discovered the meaning of flotsam and jetsam. The phrase, as I had come across it in a book, hadn’t been used in a nautical way, so its meaning puzzled me for quite a while. But eventually I caught on, and my education in multiple meanings and nuances was given a giant boost.

And this is another. Before I sized down for my RV travels, I had book cases in every room of my house. I haven’t quite repeated that in my Tucson apartment, but I can say you will find books in every room of my home.

Flotsam and jetsam became my own mantra for the jumbled thoughts that continually meandered through my mind.

I’m not sure what happened to that old dictionary, it probably just disintegrated and vanished into nothingness. There were many big old red and sometimes blue dictionaries that accompanied me on life’s journeys after that brown one. But they, too, have disappeared from my life.

But it’s a rare day that I don’t use an online dictionary. While my vocabulary is much larger these days, I’m still learning new words, and new nuances. What a great legacy the grandfather I never knew left me.

While happily ever after might not exist in life, reading happily ever after does.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Flights of Wonder http://tinyurl.com/mdoxb3p Red-tailed chicks. One of my favorite bloggers.

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Aging Is Not All Bad

Posted in Journeys, Uncategorized, tagged aging, pat bean on March 4, 2014| 11 Comments »

Every thought you produce, anything you say, any action you do, it bears your signature. — Thich Nhat Han

The beautiful saguaro cactus needs age to become beautiful and grow its arms. It’s barely a couple of inches tall at the age of 10 and can be 40 years old before it spouts an arm. — Photo by Pat Bean

In Fact, I Like Most of It

While I fight against it, and am still active, there’s no denying that age has taken its toll on me. I can no longer hike 20 miles in a day, once again captain my white-water raft as I did from the age of 40 to the age of 60, or carry a great-grandchild on my hip for hours as I did my own children.

Sunsets can be as spectacular as sunrises — from a different perspective. — Photo by Pat Bean

And then there are the little aches and pains as the body loses the glow of youth. The saying that “age isn’t for sissies” is so true it makes me laugh.

But age also has its rewards, ones that let me know I wouldn’t want to be young again. Young for me was full of insecurities, fears that someone wouldn’t like me, inner pressures to be perfect, doubts that I was good enough, and guilt for all the mistakes I made as a parent.

Being an old broad – and don’t call me elderly, I hate that term – having raised five children and being retired from a stressful 10-hour day job putting out a daily newspaper – has given me time to occasionally just sit on my balcony and reflect. Age, and a lifetime of doing, have let me truly come to know who I am.

And thankfully I like that person. I couldn’t say that when I was young.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Soul Writings http://tinyurl.com/pmjfco7 To give credit where credit is due, this was the blog and quote that inspired my words today. The blogger posts often, but the writing is always short and uplifting, and the photos that accompany it beautiful and thought-provoking.

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Bookish Tuesday

Posted in Books, Favorite Places, Journeys, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Lake Powell, mystery books, Nevada Barr, nightmares, The Rope on February 25, 2014| 1 Comment »

Lake Powell, the setting for Nevada Barr’s “The Rope,” and one of my favorite places. — Photo by Pat Bean.

“Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don’t let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity.” – R. I. Fitzhenry

“The Rope”

I love Nevada Barr’s books. Not only is she a good writer, but I always learn something new about the places I love, this country’s wild lands and our national parks.

Lone Rock at Lake Powell: I camped in sight of this rock on a Lake Powell beach the first night of my RV travels back in 20004. — Photo by Pat Bean

Her books have taken me from Texas’ Guadalupe Mountains to the South’s Natchez Trace, and from Yosemite’s high country to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty – and lots of other places in between.

But Nevada’s writing has a dark side to it. You can expect, at least somewhere in the book, to find her leading lady in a deadly place that leaves her body ravished to the near point of death. The scenes fit her fictional character, Anna Pigeon, who is on the opposite side of the planet from Janet Evanovich’s fun-loving Stephanie Plum.

While Stephanie’s biggest nemesis is a mother who wants her to settle down and get married and a grandma who gets her kicks at funerals, Anna fights against lost love, alcoholism and depression.

I can read Janet’s books in a day, but Nevada’s get stretched out over many days because I have to stop for a while so I won’t get too caught up in the tension.

Take last night for example, when I settled down with an audible version of Nevada’s “The Rope,” a flashback novel that explains Anna’s National Park Service career beginnings. It starts off very dark. And when I put the book down and fell asleep, I also fell into a nightmare – which thankfully I awoke from before it got too scary.

Wahweap Marina at Lake Powell. — Photo by Pat Bean

I admonished myself to stop it, then went back to sleep and had a crazy dream in which I was treated royally at a funky party by a gray-haired, but handsome, Arabian man. It was definitely more inspired by Stephanie than Anna.

This morning, I listened to a bit more of “The Rope,” because of course I have to know how Anna gets out of her hole – and because I love reading about Lake Powell, the setting for the book. I’ll eventually finish the book, but I doubt I will take it to bed with me again.

My nighttime mystery reading from now on will be cozies, where there’s more mystery than blood. Even Anna, in her thoughts about her seemingly inescapable situation in the opening of “The Rope,” decided she was living a Stephen King novel.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Mystery Fanfare http://mysteryreadersinc.blogspot.com/ This is a good blog to follow if you like mystery books.

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Posted in Uncategorized on February 24, 2014| 7 Comments »

OUCH!

“”Any idiot can face a crisis – it is day to day living that wears you out.” – Anton Chekov

Bubba Bear: He’s a survivor, and so am I.

Six Weeks of Daily Bandage Changes: That’s what the doctor said I would have to endure when he cut a huge circle out of my left forearm the size of a watermelon. OK, I’m exaggerating, but the skinless flesh wound left behind is easily one a tennis ball could pass through if it went all the way through my arm.

The surgery was to remove a melanoma, which began as a brown spot many years ago/ At first, it just looked like a big freckle, but it started to change a couple of years ago.

A selfie of my bandaged arm.

My old doctor and the first one I had here in Tucson said it was nothing to worry about. But my new doctor here in Tucson took one look at it, and quickly did a biopsy. When the results came back, he immediately made an appointment for me with a specialist to get it removed.

I never suspected its removal would leave such a big indention.

The skin cancer specialist said the hole would heal without a skin graph, and if I opted for the graph, the process would leave a hole in my thigh to get the necessary skin.

Two holes instead of one. That didn’t sound like much fun, so I agreed to let it heal on its own. The open wound, however, was really gross.

I had help changing the bandages for a few days, then decided to fly solo. Now the bandage changing is simply part of my daily routine. Thankfully, the wound, which is now 10 days old, hasn’t been painful, only annoyingly uncomfortable.

A cattle egret with attitude — my art of the day.

It’s also not quite as gross now. But I suspect, and the doctor agreed, that I will have a pretty good scar.

That’s OK. I’m an old broad survivor. And one of my daily images, as I sit in my living room chair drinking my morning coffee, is to look at the huge wall hanging of an old and scarred grizzly bear.

The bear is a piece of photographic art I bought in Park City, Utah, to celebrate my promotion to newspaper city editor back in the 1990s. I thought of the bear, which I dubbed Bubba, as a survivor, and used him as a daily role model before going to work each day to supervise a room full of feisty reporters.

Now I look at Bubba Bear and tell him I will survive six weeks of bandage changes, and have a scar as impressive as yours.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Uprooted Magnolia http://tinyurl.com/ml34ba5 I love these jackrabbit photos.

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My Favorite Pen

Posted in Uncategorized on February 22, 2014| 11 Comments »

“Want to be a writer, but don’t know how or when? Find a quiet place. Use a simple pen.” – Paul Simon

“A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

The cat did it. We don’t have a cat.– Photo by Pat Bean

And My Favorite Dog

If one wants, one never has to buy a pen. Businesses give them away for free as advertising tools. And you can also buy them cheap, often for mere pennies if you get them in bulk.

A $4 chew toy.

But despite my penny-pinching ways, the pens I use cost about $4 each. It’s a Uni-Ball, Impact 207 gel pen, with a bold black point that glides effortlessly across the page. After getting by on free or accidentally stolen pens for years, I decided that as a writer I deserved better.

And once I had selected and used my pen of choice, I find it almost impossible to use any other kind of pen.

The problem these days is that Pepper likes my pens, too – and considers anything accidentally dropped on the floor hers.

Art of the Day: Cedar Waxwing

And sometimes a pen may roll off my desk, or table, without my noticing it — although I’ve begun to suspect a little thieving on Pepper’s part might also take place, especially when I remember that I left my pen on the end table beside my living room chair.

As it’s also Pepper’s favorite chair, the temptation of my pen within such easy reach may be impossible for her to ignore.

I think that’s what happened to my last destroyed pen. Pepper should be thankful I love her as much as my pen.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Flights of Wonder http://tinyurl.com/m7jkedd If you’re a birdwatcher, you will like this bog, and not just today’s post, which hints of spring. .

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Connections

Posted in Books, Journeys, Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged connections, pat bean, Tono Chul Park, trees on December 23, 2013| 8 Comments »

The Palo Verde tree and Mission Cactus growing in Tucson’s Tono Chul Park have made a connection. Without the support of the tree, the cactus could never have grown so large, while the large pads of the cactus help capture rain water that gives the tree extra moisture. — Photo by Pat Bean

“When you feel a connection, a gut connection, a heart connection, it’s a very special thing.” Alfre Woodard

Looking in all the Right Places

There is something special, as Alfre said, about making a connection. She was talking about that love/lust thing, which thankfully I’ve experienced a few times in my life. While these have all bloomed and faded, they’ve left behind memories, both good, and bad, that put under the microscope help me define who I am.

One tree, or two trees? Either way, there is a connection between them. I do love trees. — Photo by Pat Bean

Now, in my seventh decade, I find connections that define who I am in different ways. Mostly they come through travel, books and family relationships, the latter of which, when I think hard enough about them, leave me understanding that I was at times better than I gave myself credit for, but also sometimes not as good as I thought I was.

It’s a complicated thing, and sometimes I simply decide to give up thinking about whether I was a good, strong mother, or a weak, spineless one. .

It’s much more rewarding and fascinating to come across things in my travels that connect to my life, like a Chinaberry tree that reminded me of the many hours I spent up in one in my grandmother’s back yard – until the day I discovered a rattlesnake sunning on the rock I used to boost myself up into the branches. The snake scurried away as fast as I did. It was probably as afraid of me as I was of it, but I never climbed that tree again.

The perfect setting for making a connection with another human, I thought when I saw these chairs sitting in a Flagstaff, Arizona, RV park. — Photo by Pat Bean

All this came back to as I watched a white-breasted nuthatch in a Chinaberry tree growing next to where I was camping in my RV, Gypsy Lee. Time, I realized, had taught me to fear the snake when it was where I would place my foot, but not to fear it when it wasn’t there. It was a well-learned lesson that gave me many years of freedom in the outdoors and the courage to face the unknown unafraid.

Books, meanwhile, let me know that I’m not alone in my odd ways of thinking. I delight when I come across a person in a memoir, or a character in a novel, who sees the world as I do, which is through rose-colored glasses despite accepting the reality that the world is chaotic and often unfair.

These are the kinds of connections I never had time to make when I was younger. I was too busy simply living life. But suddenly I find them fascinating. These connections to my life happen often these days, and they enrich my days. So I have come to search for them – in all the right places.

Bean’s Pat: The Gift of Time http://tinyurl.com/lskfbh4 Tosty Mae makes me laugh. And I loved this blog about unwelcome “connections.”

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Giggles and Gratefulness

Posted in Uncategorized on December 21, 2013| 2 Comments »

“I don’t take me seriously. If we get some giggles, I don’t mind.” – Paul McCartney

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” – Marcel Proust.

A bouquet of wildflowers from me to you this Saturday morning. — Photo by Pat Bean

Bean’s Pats

While catching up on a basket overflowing from e-mail yesterday, a result of not keeping up with it daily during my trip to Texas, I came across these two blogs with videos. They both brought smiles to my face. The first blog’s smiles came with giggles and the second one made my heart fill with joy and gratefulness for this wonderful planet we live on.

The Wondering-Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

So if you have time, take a look.

Jingle Bells – With Goats http://tinyurl.com/m62gjul

What a Wonderful World – With Louis Armstrong http://tinyurl.com/n3pkahz

Have a wonderful Saturday

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