Empty Nest

My husband took this photo and I think it's an interesting symbol, especially with Mother's Day approaching. Some people would look at the empty nest and think it's sad, others would look at it and think, "how interesting!"

I am the latter type. I suppose these thoughts are stemming from a comment made recently to me on Facebook, which I ended up deleting because I didn't feel like getting nasty with someone. I was talking about the faulty statistics of that study that comes out each Mother's Day. In it, the researchers claim that a stay-at-home mom's salary comes out to six figures based on the tasks she performs. Maybe I worded the post poorly, but I was trying to comment on how you can't necessarily posit that a mom with no degree in psychology could dole out psychological help valued at $34/hour. And I made it clear that you can't say that about anyone under the same set of circumstances. A high school classmate took this as a personal attack on her lifestyle and posted something nasty about how I would never know what she went through because she was a mom and I wasn't and that maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. Whoa.

Do I agree I don't know what it's like to be a mom? Sure. Because of circumstances beyond my control, I might never be a mom. But does that mean I can never be selfless, tired, busy or an excellent multitasker? Are moms the only ones who can get credit for going to school and working at the same time because they chose to have kids before completing school (as this person did)? Does everything get elevated when you give birth?

I have to say no. I would argue that even without kids, my life is blessed, interesting and full, and yes, crazy busy. If I have an empty nest for the rest of my life, do my experiences count for less?

Apparently some think so.

Weeping Willow

IMG_2293
Originally uploaded by True North Two

Found this lovely example of classic weeping willow imagery at a small cemetery near Bethel, Ohio. The detail is just gorgeous! We found a geocache nearby and I took a few minutes to explore the cemetery. Yet another cool spot discovered by geocaching!

Years, Months, Days

One of the most common questions I get from people who

accompany me on graveyard adventures has to do with a common practice of spelling out the years, months and days of a person's life. I remember reading years ago (or did I hear it in a college history class?) that the reason for this is that in the 1800's (the period from which you commonly see these gravestones) lives were often short. We're talking lives plagued by cholera, consumption and dysentery, to name a few. When some reached old age, such as the person whose gravestone is shown in this photo, the family was damn sure to list out every single moment the person was alive. But it applies to very short lives too. Sadly, many old cemeteries are filled with the graves of children, most likely victims of the diseases of the time. Many times you will see the graves of multiple children from the same family who died in a short period of time. This stone reads "Ages 1 Yr & 6 Ms."

Geocaching

When I was in college, my parents would come and visit sometimes and we would go to nearby Shawnee State Forest. On one of these visits, they introduced my now-husband and I to geocaching. I remember at first thinking they were insane. "Let me get this straight," I said. "We are looking for boxes of junk?" Oh, how wrong I was! From the first geocache, I was hooked. For the uninitiated, geocaching is locating small containers filled with random items and a log, or sometimes just a log, with a handheld GPS. More information can be found on www.geocaching.com

There's something about the thrill of the hunt and finding something that has been hidden, found, and re-hidden for months and even years! It's so cool to look through the log and see who has been there. Sometimes, you will find that someone was just there hours or minutes before you.

Geocaching can sometimes take you to some out-of-the-way places you might not ever visit otherwise. Cemeteries are a great example--we've found many old, interesting cemeteries when looking for caches. We always stop to admire the symbols on the headstones before leaving.

This stone was found in a cemetery in Pierce Township. The dogwood flower is a symbol for Christ, resurrection and innocence. Floral motifs were very common in this cemetery, and the cache was in a cool place. If you've never tried geocaching, I encourage you to do it! I guarantee you will find something you've never seen before.

Regular posting soon!

I've been very busy with work and getting back to normal after my husband's cancer treatment ended. We just started weekend trips again, so look the blog to pick back up!

Portsmouth House

I've written about our college rental house before. Recently, our artist friend Stacia showed us her home studio and we spotted this pencil drawing that includes that house (middle). We keep a framed photo of the house as a reminder to appreciate our current home. Stacia let us take this drawing for a high-res scan and we then ordered a large print of it.

It's funny--we knew Stacia in college and I had a few classes with her, but we didn't actually become good friends until after we graduated. Now we visit them 2-3 times per month. And here she was with this pencil drawing from freshman year of the house Neil and I ended up living in. I vaguely remember the drawing studio at SSU (I took a few drawing classes but not enough to spend a lot of time there) and recall that it overlooked Third Street. I wonder how many other students drew our house?

Shepard Fairey Tags Cincy

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Originally uploaded by True North Two

These wheat paste and paper installations are popping up all over Cincinnati, leading up to the opening of the Fairey show at the CAC on the 20th. Will cover in-depth when I get the chance to visit more+the exhibition, but visited this one on the way back from a meeting today and thought I'd post. This is on the side of Arnold's.

Cincy as a home base...and some homework for Vanity Fair

 

The Great Serpent Mound

I recently guest posted over at  Cincinnati Re-adventure, where I defended living in the suburbs. I got some interesting responses, including some that were puzzling. To rehash that whole conversation, head on over there!

Recently, Vanity Fair published a highly offensive article (link below) that concluded we're all nutso zealots. While many Cincinnati bloggers are rightfully taking a stand by pointing out the wonderful things Cincinnati has to offer (Brad King, Cincinnati Re-adventure, Kate the Great ) and tweeting about the controversy (@brad_king), I thought I'd take a unique approach and point out things that are, like the Creation Museum, within driving distance of Cincinnati. Unlike (in my humble opinion, of course) the Creation Museum, I believe these sites are important to our region and common history.

When I started writing my book (which now has a Spring 2011 publishing date), I was worried some people would perceive it as an effort to get people away from Cincinnati. In a way, I suppose it is--but there's a bigger picture.

My book, tentatively titled "Tiny Journeys: Day Trips from the Queen City" was written as a reaction to constant complaints I heard about being bored in Cincinnati. I do point out the wealth of museums, parks, historic sites and cultural events available--but the book is about day trips to locations within 1-4 hours of downtown.

My quest is not to drive people away, but rather to show them that there's plenty to do IN Cincinnati, and that it also makes a great home base for adventures to lesser-known places.

This all being said, and in light of the horrific Vanity Fair article that has us all in an uproar, here are some things worth seeing within a short driving distance of Cincinnati (which only add to the reasons to live in the area)! These are pretty well-known, but hey...I want to keep the weird and unusual to myself for now so you buy my book!

1. The Great Serpent Mound.  Before I explain this site (which I hope many readers have, in fact, at least heard of), I would like to point out that during a 2003 visit to the British Museum, my now-husband spotted relics from Serpent Mound in a case. IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM. As in, one of the world's greatest collections. Something from humble ol' Adams County, just an hour's drive from the Queen City on display.

Excavated in the late 19th Century by a Harvard archaeologist, this Fort Ancient culture earthwork has been interpreted in a variety of ways. One of the most common is that it's a snake with either an open mouth or devouring an egg. Sites around the mound align with astronomical phenomena. Extra cool: the valley visible from Serpent Mound is peppered with evidence of meteor strikes.

For those who enjoy the supernatural, a mysterious black panther has been spotted by various residents and there have been reports of UFO sightings in the area.

http://ohsweb.ohiohistory.org/places/sw16/index.shtml

2. Rankin House. Minister John Rankin and his wife Jean harbored over 2,000 slaves in their home, which served as a stop on the Underground Railroad. You can tour the home seasonally to get a sense of their lives and the bravery of those who crossed the Ohio seeking freedom. Open seasonally; check before you go!

http://ohsweb.ohiohistory.org/places/sw14/index.shtml

3. Paint Creek State Park. I've been to many Ohio State Parks, but this ranks as one of my favorites for watersports, hiking, mountain biking and nature viewing. It also has one of the  best campgrounds around. When we have cabin fever, this is one of our go-to spots for a little break.

http://www.dnr.state.oh.us/parks/paintcrk/tabid/776/Default.aspx

4. Rabbit Hash. This small hamlet in Kentucky has a real-deal general store (complete with peanut shells on the floor and a gather-round stove), a dog for its mayor and an antique shop that runs on the honor system. What's not to love?

http://www.rabbithash.com/

http://www.rabbithashusa.com/

5. Big Bone Lick State Park. Go ahead, snicker at the name. But this is a very serious, important place--that happens to be a ton of fun. They have a great museum dedicated to the discovery of prehistoric animal remains in the area, great trails, a salt lick that once made the area a destination for those who believed in its healing powers and an American Buffalo Herd. Yep, you can get up close and personal with these creatures (within a safe distance and through a fence), which are located in a pasture off a short trail.And don't forget to visit the Salt Festival in the fall!

http://parks.ky.gov/findparks/recparks/bb/

These are just a few of the places I've been to repeatedly and they're a good beginning for people who have lived in Greater Cincinnati their whole lives but want to expand their knowledge about the surrounding area. It's also a good list for Vanity Fair reporters who can only find the airport and the museum a lot of us like to pretend isn't there (as Kate pointed out).

When life gives you Potholes...

A few summers ago, we purchased our Canon. We started taking photos of everything around us and then Neil decided we needed to go somewhere scenic to really try it out. So we packed the car and headed to Canada.

We ended up in Sault St. Marie, where we rented a room for the long weekend. We barely slept there...we discovered the Trans-Canada highway and made daily excursions along the Lake Superior Circle Tour route.

I'm a big planner, and have binders (yes, binders) from past trips, full of itineraries, maps, menus and notes. This trip, however, was as random and whimsical as could be. When we got tired, we pulled into a parking lot and slept for an hour. When we saw a waterfall on the side of the road, we got out and spent hours exploring. We ate lunch in the Canada Goose Capital of the World. We kept seeing a weird sign with some sort of monster on it (it turned out to be a sign for Agawa Rock, an amazing place that needs a whole other post).

The most special place we found, a little park with a funny name, is what you might call our happy place. Potholes Provincial Park is located in Chapleau, Ontario (although I don't recall seeing anything resembling civilization). We found ourselves alone, walking in the afternoon sun along a trail filled with grouse and wild blueberries. I can't describe that day...it was just one where we felt good, had all the time in the world and just felt right being there. We spent hours on the rocks, in the water and eating the wild berries.

Whenever we're sad or Neil is sick from treatments, we talk about Potholes and what a wonderful day we had there. It's an instant mood lifter. In the past few months, we've talked about going back.

Today at lunch, Neil mentioned that he'd like to go up for our anniversary. It seems like so much has happened since we were last there, but I can't wait to renew my passport and head up to the place that holds so much meaning.

Journey

If you're here, you know my love of symbols. Before my husband was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma in October, I sometimes sported a pink ribbon for breast cancer awareness since it's a cause I like to support. However, it wasn't until I had a reason to wear a violet ribbon that I truly understood the point of awareness symbols.

In college, I had a professor rant one day about the pointlessness of wearing awareness ribbons (as half the class sat wearing them since it was Breast Cancer Awareness Month and they were being sold on campus). He criticized it as a way to show off instead of a way to draw attention to a cause. He reasoned that all the money spent on making awareness items could be that much more money given to a cause. I did that day, and still do, somewhat agree with his points. However, I think there's much, much more to the story.

When my husband was diagnosed, I felt very alone. Here I was, 27 and my husband 26. Within a matter of hours, we had to make decisions about our future such as if we would ever want to undergo IVF if chemo made him sterile, which oncologist he wanted to see and if we would go through with the purchase of the home we were building. When he called to tell me the bad news, I don't remember how I ended up in a chair in the lobby of my office. I sort of fell into it, not attaching the words to our lives. "They think it's lymphoma." Boom. I watched other office workers walk by the windows. I had been one of them a few minutes ago.

It took me a long time to want to be part of the cancer community. I cried during my husband's first chemo, watching as the drugs dripped down a long tube into the port in his chest. We were given materials...lots of lighthouse imagery, soft colors and line drawings of how to live with cancer. Not anything I wanted to face.

Eventually, though, I started looking for a way to own my role as a caretaker and spouse of a cancer patient. I exhausted my vacation and sick leave almost immediately with his two surgeries and first chemo. His mom doesn't work on Fridays, so she offered to take him to treatments. Other family members and friends stepped in to take him too. There was nothing worse that trying to concentrate at work knowing that I couldn't be there for him. And so I started to wear a red rubber bracelet from the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society . It might sound silly, but it was a constant reminder of his fight and made me feel like I was there in spirit when I couldn't be there in person. I gave them to our family members and friends, who all wear them too. Whenever we're all together or I see a photo of someone wearing their bracelet, I feel a connection. We're all in this together.

Since the red bracelets are a symbol of the LLS, I also purchased buttons specific to Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Friends and family also sport these, some with violet ribbons attached, to show support and solidarity. I've been asked about mine several times, leading not only to discussion about this specific cancer, but also to recommendations for diet and exercise, offers to visit and promises to take better care of oneself by not avoiding routine exams.

Right before Neil's first surgery, a biopsy and removal of lymph nodes in his neck, family friends stopped over with a St. Christopher medal. While we are not Catholic and do not attend church, the gesture and meaning was appreciated. "He's the patron saint of long journeys," the husband said, "and you're about to go on one." Since Neil could not wear it comfortably during chemo, I held it in my hand as I sat on the hospital bed with him.

It's been some time since those rubber awareness bracelets were at the peak of popularity.And some may misunderstand my wearing of a button and ribbon as a way to get attention or show off chartiable giving. And though you'll never find me at mass, I still take out the St. Christopher medal from time to time, reflecting on our journey...something I'm sure people balk at.

I hope my experience will show others that these symbols are so much more than a fashion statement or attention-grabber. They are a connection and a comfort.