Taking the Time

We were in Rapid City yesterday and while there we stopped at Menards. I went to the back room to see if I could find a small plant for a certain window. Bob discovered an interesting plant and the perfect size. The problem was that it was the only one left in an almost impossible spot to reach. I was struggling to get it down when suddenly an elegantly dressed woman of mature age came by and offered to help. She began taking large plants off of the lower and middle shelves so that Bob could step on the bottom shelf to reach my chosen plant. When he brought it down the woman admired the strawberry begonia plant, commenting on its many possibilities.

"Do you work here?" I asked, impressed by her kindness. I was not surprised when she replied in the negative. After all, she was dressed to the tees, as if she was going to attend an important banquet. She chuckled at my question, said her goodbyes and moved on, out of our lives.

It was a brief encounter, but it reminded me sharply of the importance of taking time...time for pleasures, for connections, for relaxing, for helping others not on our list or agenda for the day.

I am often advised by my husband that I too often am rushing to here or there, saying "I gotta, I must, I should, I have to". My thoughts or words could change to "I want to, I may, I would like..."

That special lady from Rapid City took time out of her busy schedule to help this little old lady purchase the plant she desired. I did not have to have it, she did not have to stop and help, but she did. I was impressed by her giving of her time, and her interest. She moved on, our of our lives, but she lives on in my thoughts of gratititude and reminders to "stop and smell the flowers" on life's journey.

This is a busy time of year, but I will remember.

"Water, Water, Everywhere and not a Drop to Drink"....

We are in another battle in our county. In addition to working to save our VA for our veterans we are now faced with an even more serious issue...that of saving our water for our ranchers, our Wild Horse Sanctuary, our Plunge, our river, and all of the citizens and businesses in this county who get their water from our Madison and Inyan Kara Aquifers.

The list of horrors:

l. A Canadian Hedgefund Company, Powertech, has applied for a water permit in our county to obtain permission for 550 gallons a minute from the Madison Aquifer and 8,500 gallons a minute from the Inyan Kara Aquifer. They say they plan to mine uranium from these most sensitive aquifers that supply water to not only our county, but up into the rest of the Black Hills and into the Pine Ridge Reservation.

This foreign company has never mined for uranium, may sell the water rights to foreign investors such as China, and the money from these endeavors will drain out to the foreign countries, robbing us of our most valuable resource. In essence, foreign countries could own our water.

2. We do not need more uranium in our country. We have an ample supply.

3. The water could most likely get polluted with radioactivity, arsenic, selenium and other contaminants, making this water unfit for cattle or humans. Our ranches could "dry up and blow away", leaving our county with a huge loss of taxes.

4. Billions of gallons needed for the mining could diminish the water levels, drying up springs, possibly forever.

5. Pubic health is affected by exposure to radiation. You can check the records.

6. Adding to all of these possibilities (proven to have occurred at other sites) is the fact that our legislatures in Pierre, the capital of South Dakota, passed a bill stripping the DNER of its regulatory and protective services for "in situ leach" uranium mining. These men who are supposed to protect the interests of their constituents, have essentially given away our water. Why would they do this? We do know that one of those state legislators represented his mother in a land dispute acquiring Powertech leases for her at the same time he helped pass this bill.

Now we are in a battle to fight this disaster. Over the centuries inventions have emerged and our lives have improved in many ways. One thing that never changes from the beginning of history is the corruption and greed, maybe ignorance, that lies inside of humankind. Thankfully, and hopefully, these instances that bring out the worst in some people can also bring out the best in others trying to keep our environment healthy for generations to come.

Are the maybes and coulds and possibilities worth the risk of the forevers?
I am not a gambler when it comes to the health of our planet and our people.

Check out www.powertechexposed.com
or, The Rapid City Journal, November 17, under Forum, also on November 23, under opinion by David Rooks, or on November 24. The Hot Springs Star for November 20, two articles on the Opinion page.

Hello Again, Again. Goodbye Again, Again

We can always count on our Christmas Cactus plant bringing color to the gray of November and December. It blooms on cue, in time for Thanksgiving, lingering into December. Our second cactus on our porch lags a few weeks behind, with brilliant blossoms to follow.

And now, goodbye.....

For the second time we lost our colony of bees. A few days ago they simply disappeard from their hive. They seemed to be thriving all summer, downing the sugar water we supplied during the flowerless months of October and November. They were many and active, (I have two bites to prove it), but suddenly they are gone from our lives. We know they had an ample supply of honey they worked so diligently to harvest all summer.

Was it colony collapse? Was it the effect of the pesticides that neighbors spray to keep immaculate lawns? We may never know, but we think we may not try our bee endeavor again. It isn't the work involved, but the heartache that follows their absence. It amazes me how much I count on the little buzzers flying around, dancing on our flowers, drinking water from the bird bath, diving into the hive, loaded with yellow or orange pollen, then flying off to forage and fertilize our part of this world.

We intend to harvest the honey they left, a reminder of their energy, devotion to the colony and their part in the continuation of the lives of the plants that surround us with their beauty. They are remarkable creatures.

For now we say goodbye. We may change our minds. There is a hole to fill.

All Tuckled In

We are waiting for our first snow storm of the season. The prediction is for rain with an additional one inch of snow. That much needed moisture will be very welcome. Living in a banana belt is great, but it also brings drought and wildfire concerns.

As I drove home today I saw that Bob had covered the bee hive for the winter. Our weather stripping is finished, new windows installed, the tomatoes are ripening in the basement and his motorcycle is stored in a shed close by since we often have mild winter weather that allows for some afternoon winter bike rides.

As I drove my car into the garage I was filled with a feeling of safety that I used to experience as a child when I saw the wood pile ready for the long winter, the basement stocked with my mother's jars of jellies, pickled fish and other preserves from our garden and lake, and the meat from rabbits and deer harvested in the fall by my father and brothers.

Our winters in northern Minnesota in the 30's and 40's were harsher than the weather today. The snow was deep, sufficient for making snow forts and wonderful, wandering tunnels. Storms would last for several days, cutting us off from the town which was a mile away. My parents stocked our shelves and wood sheds before the storms engulfed us. They were always prepared and I always had the sense of security that came from their preparedness.

I never completely got over the instinct to stash away more than we need. Bob says I am like a squirrel, and since now we live with few major storms and within a block of the grocery store, it is unnecessary for me to hoard more than we need. I guess I never will completely get over the need to prepare for the worst. I learned it well from my parents. I do think I am buying less at one time, but I hope I never lose that feeling of security I get when I see the bees tuckled in for the winter.

(Note) I use the word "tuckled" to differentiate from the expression when my mother
"tucked me in" for the night.

The Allure of the Alley

Crunch, crunch. It is the sound I hear as I walk the graveled alleys in town. I miss living in the country, but one of the positives of moving to town after the Alabaugh fire is the enjoyment I feel when walking the alleys of Hot Springs. As I hike them on my way to a store or to the river walk, I remember.

I grew up in northern Minnesota in a small location of about twelve houses rented by the mining company for their employees. The alley ran down the middle of the location and all of the activities took place there. Neighbors visited in the alley, walked the alley, and drove the alley. We kids ran the alley, biked the alley and played in the alley. We made our daily plans in the alley, chased our dogs and walked it each day to catch the bus to school.

Years later, after my mother died, my father moved in with my sister. She died soon after and he moved in with us. Our house was too small to give him his own space so we looked at houses to better meet his needs. While searching, I researched on how to take care of your elderly parent and was focused on finding a home with a bathroom close to his bedroom and living area, and large windows allowing a lot of light.

Bob, on the other hand, had his sights set on a house with an alley. "Neighborhoods with alleys are important in making friends". The rest of us were at work or school, barely having the time to greet our next door neighbors. My father would be home alone with his dog and hobby of chopping wood and keeping the fire roaring during the cold weather. He was a very outgoing person and had always made friends easily.

We found the house with the extra bedroom and bath, a large window, a fireplace and, most important, an alley in a neighborhood with many retirees. We ordered wood for my father to cut and pile for the fireplace and settled in to our busy lives.

His birthday was on the horizon and I wondered out loud to Bob, "Who can we invite for this occasion"? He had left his old friends miles away, and my brothers lived states away. We thought we could invite the next-door neighbors who we barely knew. We heard my father talk about them. When I invited them they asked, "What about Barney and Doris? They love your Dad".

We had only lived in this house for a few months, but we asked them to invite any neighbors who knew my father. His birthday arrived, and fourteen neighbors came to celebrate. They had met and grown to admire their new neighbor as he walked his dog down the alley, stopping to visit with each and every one of them along the way. It was a neighborhood gathering, the first of its kind, and five more to follow until he left us a few months after his 92 birthday.