Pat Bean's blog

February 24, 2014 by Pat Bean

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.

Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments »

My Favorite Pen

February 22, 2014 by Pat Bean

“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. .

Posted in Uncategorized | 11 Comments »

Good Advice or Bad Advice?

February 4, 2014 by Pat Bean

Most people who ask for advice from others have already resolved to act as it pleases them.” – Khalil Gibran.

Of course when I hiked the benches of Mount Ogden in Utah, I wasn't exactly along. I always had Peaches or Maggie with me. Peaches would have torn the limbs off of anyone who tried to harm me. But, Maggie, who is shown here, would have been hiding behind me for protection. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Of course when I hiked the benches of Mount Ogden in Utah, I wasn’t exactly alone. I always had Peaches or Maggie with me. Peaches would have torn the limbs off of anyone who tried to harm me. But, Maggie, who is shown here, would have been hiding behind me for protection. — Photo by Pat Bean

It All Depends

This is a photo my daughter shot while riding alone in the desert. — Photo by T.C. Ornelas

I’m not a fan of giving advice – or getting it for that matter. I cringe when all but my youngest daughter asks me for advice, especially in areas in which I’ve made mistakes – and that covers a about a jillion areas.

And the only reason I don’t mind giving my youngest daughter with neck problems advice is that I know she won’t take it. I guess she takes after me. I can’t think of hardly any advice given me that I didn’t distain in favor of the hard knocks of experiencing things for myself.

Besides, over the years, I’ve learned that sometimes good-intentioned advice is not in my best interests. The best example is the frequent advice I was always getting not to hike the benches around Ogden alone.

And this is one of the coyotes that have followed her. — Photo by T.C. Ornelas

If I had followed that advice, heeding the fears of others, I would have deprived myself of some of the most soul-filling moments of my 25 years of living in Northern Utah. Knowing this is what keeps me from telling my youngest daughter not to ride her horse along in the desert, where coyotes trail her path.

For some of us, having our alone time in nature, is absolutely necessary for maintaining sanity. It was for me when I had daily newspaper deadlines to meet. And my daughter is a working mother, who raised three daughters and is now raising three boys, including two teenagers among them. Talk about needing to hold onto saneness.

I also didn’t follow the advice of all the financial gurus who told me how much money I needed to retire. Instead I’ve spent the past 10 years, nine of them traveling – alone – full-time in an RV across this vast country, perfecting ways to get by on much less than the gurus claimed I needed.

Recently, I’ve been checking out advice for getting my book, Travels with Maggie, published. Advice for this seems to be just about around every corner — and in the tradition of writing advice, the various suggestions are often contradictory.

But this morning, I read the best piece of publishing advice I have come across since I started researching the issue. It was offered by Chuck Wendig, author of “Kiss –Ass Writer.” The first step, said Chuck, is “write something great.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better piece of advice, or one that I will try harder to follow.

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

Bean’s Pat: Winter’s Heartbeat http://tinyurl.com/nxuqj55 This blog might actually make you not want to chase away the cold.

Posted in Dogs, Journeys, Nature, Writing | Tagged advice, Chuck Wendid, nature, pat bean | 8 Comments »

WHO? WHO? WHO?

February 3, 2014 by Pat Bean

“A serious writer is not to be confounded with a solemn writer. A serious writer may be a hawk or a buzzard or even a popinjay, but a solemn writer is always a bloody owl.” – Ernest Hemingway.

This is Gandolf, a great horned owl that my son, Lewis, and I discovered on the side of a road on the Texas Gulf Coast. He was in shock, probably after being struck by a passing vehicle, my son and I suspected. We got him to a wildlife rehabilitator, who dubbed him Gandolf. Three weeks later he was well and released back into the wild. — Photo by Pat Bean.

A Great Horned Owl, That’s Who

I’m not sure I understand Hemingway’s words. But they’re fun to ponder.

I made this card for a grandson's graduation. It tickles my fancy.

I made this card for a grandson’s graduation. I guess I have owls on the brain, but they tickle my fancy.

Just as it’s been fun to ponder the great horned owl, whose hooting has been taunting me awake each morning, and serenading me to sleep each night, for the past two weeks.

The hooter has annoyingly been avoiding my sight, but I finally caught a glimpse of it two days ago from my third-floor balcony window. The owl was sitting, just above my eye level, in a tree about 30 feet away.

Then, early yesterday morning, as I was once again looking for the owner of the hoots coming from the trees, a great horned owl flew directly over my head, wings stretched out like a sheltering canvas. It was big, and it landed on the roof top of an adjacent apartment building.

And this is one of my great horned owl doodles. I did it from memory after the Gandolf incident.

Pepper, whom I was walking at the time, and I wandered closer, and the owl briefly looked down on us with its great golden eyes. I was mesmerized, but glad that my canine companion was standing close. This was a mighty big owl, much larger, I realized than the one that I had seen a few days before from my balcony.

A surge of joy, like a big yippee, went through my bones. I suspected my apartment complex was now home to a mating pair of owls. The one I was looking at had to be the female, who is always larger than her male mate.

The big owl didn’t linger, but quickly disappeared beyond the roof line, leaving me pondering where her nest was, and did it already contain eggs. I’m sure I’ll be looking for it every time Pepper and I go walking during February.

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

Bean’s Pat: Texas Tweeties http://tinyurl.com/mgovo9e Bringing home dinner. Bob’s one of my favorite bloggers. I’ve been privileged to see an osprey spring from the Snake River, and from a couple of lakes, with a fish in its talons, but it’s a sight worth seeing over and over again.

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Birds, Journeys, Writing | Tagged birds of prey, ernest hemingway, great horned owl, pat bean | 13 Comments »

The Time of Your Life

January 31, 2014 by Pat Bean

“You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by” — James Matthew Barrie

Tucson has escaped the ugly cold and flowers can still be seen in front of my apartment complex. I thought I would share with my more northern friends. — Photo by Pat Bean.

The Last Day of January

If you haven’t broken all your New Year’s resolutions by now, I want to know your secret.

And of course cactus blooms as Tucson is located in the desert. — Photo by Pat Bean

As January’s freakishly cold weather for most of the country slips past into February’s what will the days ahead be like, I ponder on my past month’s accomplishments, which of course includes already breaking most of my New Year’s resolutions.

Thankfully, however, I’ve finally learned that acknowledging what I did get done is more rewarding and encouraging than beating myself up for all the things I didn’t do.

That actually was a 2013 resolution that became easier to do as the days slipped by. I don’t know about you, but I can’t live every day as I’ve planned it in my daybook.

For example, on today’s list I have four writing projects that need to be done, house chores, a trip to the library, art projects that include making two cards for upcoming family birthdays, and half a dozen more trivial things.

I know that marking a line through each item when completed will give me great satisfaction. But I also know the wisdom of James Barrie’s words.

Finding time to enjoy playing and walking with my canine companion, and smelling the flowers along the way, and leaving time to watch the hummingbirds at my feeder, or simply letting my frantic brain think about nothing for a while, is just as important as what is actually on my to-do list.

I hope you do, too. Have a great last day of January.

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

Bean’s Pat: Craves Adventure http://tinyurl.com/khs4jkx Words to live by.

Posted in Adventures With Pepper, Journeys | Tagged James Barrie, new year's resolutions, pat bean, time | 5 Comments »

I Love a Good Mystery

January 30, 2014 by Pat Bean

“Without mysteries, life would be dull indeed. What would be left to strive for if everything were known?” — Charles de Lint

Can you identify this bird? Or will it remain a mystery?

Which Is Why I Enjoy Bird Watching

“My detective story begins brightly, with a fat lady found dead in her bath with nothing on but her pince-nez. Now why did she wear a pince-nez in her bath? If you can guess, you will be in a position to lay hands upon the murderer, but he’s a very cool and cunning fellow…” – wrote Dorothy Sayers as she plotted her first Lord Peter Wimsey mystery in the early 1920s.

Cover of Are Women Human?, which contains two of Sayers’ feminist essays. — Wikimedia

When the book, “Whose Body” came out in 1923, the naked victim was male, but the pince-nez clue was still there. Many Lord Peter Wimsey books followed. I think I’ve read them all.

Along with writing the Wimsey mysteries, which like Agatha Christie’s Poirot and Miss Marple books, continue to be popular today, Sayers was a poet, playwright and advertising writer.

One of the latter efforts included a toucan jingle for Guinness Beer: “If he can say as you can. Guinness is good for you. How grand to be a Toucan. Just think what Toucan do?”

This same kind of humor continues in the Wimsey mysteries, which is consistent with the character’s name-play on the word whimsy.

DVDs of some of the Lord Wimsey films I checked out of the library get the credit for this blog idea.

The joy of reading Dorothy Sayers’ mysteries for me is that it is all about figuring out whodunit before the killer is revealed.

It’s sort of the same with bird watching. You have to read all the clues – profile, coloring, beak size, and a jillion other field marks – if you want to make an identification before the bird flies away.

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

Bean’s Pat: She’s a Maineaic http://tinyurl.com/psgwdqx Einstein said what about anger?

Posted in Art, Books, Journeys, Writing | Tagged bird watching, Dorthy Sayers, Lord Peter Wimsey, mystery books, writers | 8 Comments »

“Writing Down the River”

January 29, 2014 by Pat Bean

” Hunter S. Thompson

The first time I rafted down the Grand Canyon, the Little Colorado River entrance to the mightier Colorado River was red and thick with mud from recent upstream rains. The second time it was crystal clean, and we floated in its current. I’m the middle blonde, and I was 60 when the photograph was taken.

A fantastic read.

Bookish Wednesday

A fairy tale begins with “Once upon a time.” And a river story with “No shit! There I was,” said outspoken journalist Linda Ellerbee in her essay about rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

And there she was — on an adventure one summer taken by 14 other fantastic female writers. The 15 women ranged in age, and in lifestyles that went from city women who had never peed outdoors to athletic women who considered nature their true homes. They each wrote about the Grand Canyon from their own perspective, and about how the fickle river and the high rock walls affected and changed them.

Being a female writer who has been on this same adventure twice in my life – the last time as a birthday present to myself when I turned 60 – my soul triumphed with joy when I came across their book, “Writing Down the River (1998, Northland Publishing, photographed and produced by Kathleen Jo Ryan) in the public library.

Of course I checked it out. Reading the book these past few days has brought back many memories of 32 days, 16 for each trip, that rank high on my list of the best days of my life.

Among my own writings about my Grand Canyon trip was one about the canyon wren, which often serenaded us during our early mornings on the river.

Among my own writings about my Grand Canyon trip was a bird column about the canyon wren, which often serenaded us during our early mornings on the river.

The first time I went down the river, I paddled myself almost the entire 225 miles in a small raft. I came away from the experience a whole person, accepting both my strengths and my weaknesses.

The second time I let the boatman (she was female but she was still called a boatman) oar me down the river, an admission that time had come for me to slow down a bit and take more time to smell the flowers and watch the birds – but also that my adventuring days were still far from over.

I highly recommend this trip for all women who are at turning points in their lives – and if you can’t go, at least read the book. The words and photographs can’t help but touch your heart and make you stronger.

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

Bean/s Pat: Where Have All the Flowers Gone http://tinyurl.com/l89g62e In honor of Pete Seeger and my generation of flower-child music.

Posted in Art, Birds, Books, Favorite Places, Journeys, Nature, Writing | Tagged " female writers, "Writing Down tthe River, grand canyon | Leave a Comment »

Thought and Memory

January 28, 2014 by Pat Bean

“The ancestor of every action is a thought.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“It’s surprising how much of memory is built around things unnoticed at the time.” – Barbara Kingsolver

A raven in Yosemite. — Photo by Pat Bean

Huginn and Muginn

According to legend, Odin, the Norse God of Asgard, had two ravens. One was named Huginn, meaning thought, and the other Muginn, meaning memory.

One of my roof-top ravens on an earlier day. — Photo by Pat Bean

I thought about these two mythical birds this morning as I watched, from my bedroom balcony, a pair of ravens skittering about on the red tile roof of an adjacent building. I see these, or other, ravens often. Sometimes I’m amazed at how the sheen of their midnight black feathers appear almost white when the sun strikes them in a peculiar way.

There were no ravens in Texas, where I grew up. I only became familiar with these members of the corvid family when I moved West. And then when I became a passionate birder, I spent hours learning to tell them apart from their cousins, the crows.

Huginn and Muninn sit on Odin’s shoulders in an illustration from an 18th-century Icelandic manuscript.

It’s an easy task if you see the two species together. The raven is quite a bit larger with a thick sturdy beak. But when they’re at a distance and flying overhead, it’s not so easy, well at least until you realize the raven has a wedge-shaped tail and the outer edge of the crow’s tail is straight.

Smiling to myself, and perhaps thinking like Dr. Seuss, I wondered which of my two roof-hopping ravens was Huginn, and which was Muginn. Then I laughed at my thoughts, while memories of watching ravens in other places and other times danced through my head.

Thoughts and memories – that’s really all we are.

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

Bean’s Pat: Birding Southern Baja http://tinyurl.com/kgud9e6 A bit of armchair birding and travel gleamed from this delightful blog.

Posted in Birds, Journeys | Tagged Huginn and Muginn, Odin, ravens, thought and memory | 2 Comments »

The Meaning of Vertiginous

January 27, 2014 by Pat Bean

“I like nonsense; it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living; it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.” – Dr. Seuss

I’m always chasing butterflies. — Photo by Pat Bean

And Leftovers Soup

“Look up vertiginous” was a note I wrote to myself when I came across the word a while back while reading. I just came across the note again this morning — while looking through my daybook in hopes that a blogging topic would pop into my mind.

They cheer up any day. — Photos by Pat Bean

I’m normally never at a loss for words, but an ear problem this past week has blurred my thoughts. When I looked the word up, I decided it was as good an excuse as any for my lazy blogging week. Vertiginous means something that makes you dizzy or gives you vertigo, which my ear pain sort of did to me.

I forgot in what context the word was used in my reading, but laughed at the sentence the dictionary used to explain its meaning: “my small mind contained in earthly human limits, not lost in vertiginous space and elements unknown” — Diana Cooper. Just such a sentence is probably what made me write the note to myself in the first place.

Back almost to normal, re my ear infection, I decided this morning to clean out the refrigerator and make leftover soup.

The soup ingredients included a cup of chicken stock, about a cup of leftover bloody mary mix (sans the alcohol), one small diced turnip, one/fourth head of a small cabbage, one/fourth of an onion diced small, a handful of chopped carrots, one/fourth pound beef sausage sliced thin, a stalk of celery and salt to taste.

I cooked the mixture in my small slow cooker until the cabbage was soft and the other veggies still a bit crispy. I think it’s yummy, not vertiginous at all

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

Bean’s Pat: Butterflies in a Winter Wood http://tinyurl.com/ljjxw6b Just a few more butterflies to cheer your day.

Posted in Journeys | Tagged butterflies, Dr. Seuss, recipes, soup, Vertiginous | 2 Comments »

Paper Fetish

January 17, 2014 by Pat Bean

Yesterday’s use of paper included adding a kestrel painting to my sketchbook, writing down dates to remember in my diary calendar, which is full of paintings and quotes, and writing in my to-do journal, which includes a hodgepodge of notes and ideas to myself. — Photo by Pat Bean

“Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with meaning.” – Maya Angelou

I’m So Sorry My Beloved Trees

I love paper, crisp new pages in a book, cold pressed and textured artist sheets, fanciful stationary, designer pages for my scrapbooking and even the thick block of white for my printer.

But I especially love the blank pages that fill new journals, even more so when their artistic creators have filled bits and pieces of the pages with fairies, flowers, dragons or animal images, and even more when they have left words behind to tickle my little gray cells.

Like these words, which I came across yesterday: “Let’s talk about mountains. You start climbing one, you toil, you sweat, you finally reach the top, and what do you get? Well, along with a sense of accomplishment, of peace, of a job well done, along with the satisfaction of doing what you set out to do … you get a great view of the next mountain. Looming, Challenging, Calling your name.” These words were left me behind to ponder from the journal creators, Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers — And ponder I did.

I wonder if the spirits of trees, like this beauty in Brazos Bend State Park in Texas, are infused into the paper I touch and use daily.

These days, I usually have several journals going at once, the most used being a daily journal in which I write to-do lists (Things I want to keep from this journal get rewritten into my computer journal, which I began several years ago to preserve my writing fingers from cramping), and a journal that I keep beside me when I read, and use to write down quotes and a mishmash of thoughts and ideas.

Even though I love computer journaling, which these days includes this blog, I can’t imagine a day without putting my hands on real paper. It’s an oxymoron for me, because I also love trees. Sometimes I wonder about the origin of the paper I write on, and almost feel the trees talking to me. I hope they forgive me.

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

Bean’s Pat: The Blood-Red Pencil http://tinyurl.com/lm2k2pg This is for all the writers who have procrastinated until the deadline monster is close enough to bite off our noses.

Posted in Art, Birds, Books, Journeys, Writing | Tagged Brazos Bend State Park, journaling, paper, pat bean, trees | 6 Comments »

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“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

Pat Bean is a writer, avid birder, hiker and passionate nature observer with wanderlust in her soul. She spent nine years living and traveling in a small RV. She now lives in Tucson with Scamp, a rescue who was supposed to be a Schnauzer mix but turned out to be a Siberian Husky-Shih Tzu mix who is as stubborn as his owner, her granddaughter says. She was also a journalist for 37 years, and can be reached at patbean@msn.com
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