a little red hen

Bees, You and Me...Earth Week 2013

 

Bill McKibben narrates a short, mellow video, "Dance of the Honey Bees."  Planning an evening program for my retirement community about what's happening with bees, my search for resources turned this up on a Bill Moyers show.  Sadly it ends with the dark side about honey bee demise.  The link is from TruthOut, with transcript included along with a pledge you can sign to let Bayer (aspirin company) know you want them to stop killing bees. 

Recently a number of scientists have identified neonicotinoids, a pesticide produced by Bayer, as the major culprit.  Meanwhile, EFSA ( European food safety watchdog) has identified neonicotinoids as "an acute risk to honeybee health" but not to colony collapse.  Bayer and Syngenta, major producers of the pesticide, have suggested their own plan to avoid the ban of the product that many are demanding.

Environmental groups in England and some other European countries appear more public in their demand for a ban than those in the U.S.  In the past week, England has rebuffed this concern.  Since Bayer is a German company, there is more interest in protecting it as an important player in the economy.

In this country the XL pipleline and fracking currently take front and center in the media.  Speaking for the bees, the voices we hear in the U.S. are largely beekeepers and farmers and there are many in Oregon.  Tom Foster, a neighbor of mine, had bee hives, sold honey before he moved here.

 

We're working on a program for June.  Following his own deep history with bees--his father and grandfather were also beekeepers in the Northwest--we'll show a 20-minute excerpt from "Vanishing of the Bees."  We hope to stimulate bee-connected interests among our members to buy local honey, maybe consider a bee hive on the roof of our building (where we grow tomatoes).  Or, more modestly, borrow my copy of Foodopoly by the Wenoah Hauter, Exec Director of Food & Water Watch.

This informative and engaging 90-minute documentary, produced in the U.K., will be shown in Albuquerque, New Mexico in the next week.  For a delightful, funkier take, an American one, try "Queen of the Sun."  I'm hoping to find others as fascinated by bees as myself, an urban person moved to think more about the earth since connecting with a backyard in mid-20th century Baltimore.

Boston this time, New York City then, and next?

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Making sense of what is happening is beyond me. Bombs at Boston Marathon unmoored me--along with many, many others [live feed from Boston CBS].   Grandmothers need to think more clearly.  I'm in search of better language for upbeat conversation about the future.  

Pretty and pink on the street here in Portland, Oregon. Slight distraction from the news...state legislators may lose their will on gun control as they did in Congress...dumbness from dependable right wing--New York's Steve King in the House uses Boston tragedy to put skids on immigration reform.

The first image I saw of the explosion at the Boston Marathon brought back memories of how I experienced New York in the days after September 11, 2001.   It happened on a Tuesday.  I was deep into preparations for my most ambitious environmental work, an art installation at Queens Botanical Garden.  I needed to buy more fabric in a place close to the World Trade Center.  Everyone, everywhere talked about how to give support to those living close to the site, children who had seen it happen and had to evacuate schools. Hard to stay centered around my own concerns--important to me, small in the big picture.  

The show was meant to celebrate a better day for the enviroment in New York City.  Fresh Kills on Staten Island, where the City's garbage had been dumped for over forty years, had been closed to create a cleaner environment for families who lived there.  But shortly after 9/11 the City announced that the remains of victims of the terrorist attacks would temporarily go to Fresh Kills.    After a few days, it was decided that the show could open as planned--with a shifted focus.   The Garden's Director correctly sensed that the public gardens would offer respite for many.   

Downtown, most of the streets near the World Trade Center were blocked off.  Canal Street where I wanted to go was one of them. Smoke from the Towers still filled the air when we could get near the store; in the upper lefthand corner a pigeon flies.   We watched Sanitation and Army trucks passed by over and over again.  Young NYPD officer man let us past the barrier to the store on the other side.

What did we learn from 9/11 that will support us now?  The two brothers bombers have been identified.  One is dead, the other badly wounded.  The negative chatter has begun again about Muslims.  How do we reassure our families?  Do we ignore what has happened, or bring out the flags.   Oppressively flagged after 9/11--what we really needed was leadership to help us examine our values and prepare for how those awful events might change our world. But Rudy Guiliani, New York's Mayor then, and George W. Bush were too limited for that sort of thinking.  Their urge to DO SOMETHING only led in the opposite direction. Two wars.

Earlier this week, I wrote this post's headline.  As if reading my mind--and so many of us--David SarasohnI the Sunday Oregonian writes a commentary, Watching Boston and waiting for Portland's time."

We could have been Boston.  For Portland, of course, that has two meanings. There's our creation myth about Francis Pettygrove from Maine, winning a coin flip with Asa Lovejoy of Massachusetts, who wanted to name [us] after his hometown of Boston.

Then there's the more immediate reality that Portland or any city in the country--could at any instant find itself...Boston...its street running with blood and its emergency rooms swamped with casualties.

He talks with Martin Schrelber, a trauma surgeon, at Oregon Health & Science University, the state's health and research institution.  Its many buildings stand up the hill from where I live.  Dr. Schrelber is very direct, "Our reality is not if it is going to happen [here] but when."  He says OHSU has a plan, along with the city's other trauma hospital.  That plan is rehearsed every six months.  For details, see Sarasohn's article.

Am I reassured?  Not at all.  While impressed with the doctor's dedication to emergency preparedness and his difficult work, it is a different plan I seek.

 

 

 

"American Winter" Kickstarted to theater near you...

Were you with us when HBO announced the new film "American Winter"?  At the website there's more about it's producers, Joe and Harry Gantz, and their focus on social justice films. Maybe living in Portland, Oregon, where it was filmed gave it a certain immediacy for us.  Also that it was about real middle class families who have fallen into poverty since--what do you call it now--the economic disaster  of the last decade.

Seven of them white, one black, all doing okay and then...  When there is so much focus on the funny and forthy "Portlandia" picture of the city, it's crucial that more people see the reality of everyday life here for so many.  

 

At Lettboxd, reviewer Steve Pulaski comments:  

The staggering amount of people on unemployment begs a documentarian analysis, and American Winter provides the best one I've seen yet. High on reality, low on statistics, and often emotional, this is 2013's best documentary thus far. It is the third I've seen detailing the poor's struggle in an increasingly complex world, next to Escape Fire: The Fight to Rescue American Healthcare and this year's limited/VOD release A Place at the Table. Needless to say that American Winter sores past the goodness of both films into gratifying greatness.

He brings up a secondary problem frustrating many of us.  Access to documentaries.  If you do not have cable, and HBO, you were dependent on the kindness of interested friends to see "American Winter."

That's why I was pleased to join their Kickstarter campaign (check out the site for a model of hands-on change at their Portland premiere) to raise funds to expand outreach for

"...a series of events around the film...bring together speakers, comics, and social theater to draw attention to critical needs of working poor and disappearing middle class...."Cirque Du Soleil" meets "Les Miserables" that will bring people together in an invigorating movement to create change."

Thrilled to learn yesterday we were among the 217 Kickstarters who made it happen!

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Writing this post, I discovered Mom Bloggers for Social Good--another to watch along with the quickly growing Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense, seen here in the past week's "Stroller Jam" happening at various congressional offices around the country.  

Worthy followers of Gray Panters, Grandmothers against the War (see blogroll).  Personally satisfying for this grandma to hook onto the local Moms Demand group at demonstrations and on Facebook; my futile resistance to FB ended last summer. 

 

Life in Gun Control Lane: Rally @ Oregon Legislature

April 4, 2013 in Salem, Oregon.  Anniversary of MLK assassination 45 years ago.  

April 4, 1968  Oberlin, Ohio.  Due date for first child, we were devastated. Uncomforable with response by small college town to angry black community.* 

Everything about being part of the day at the Salem Rally was inspirational.  Heard moving remarks by  family members of those killed by guns at Clackamas Town Center and other places.  Bravely they have joined the fight for gun control.

Six of us women of age made the trip to visit with our legislators who all are working hard to move bills through the Oregon State legislature.  In the morning we were in the offices of  Represenative Jennifer Williamson first.  Then on to Senator Ginny Burdick, a woman of great personal courage who speaks in a matter-of-fact way about the death threats she has received for her longstanding support of improved public safety through gun control laws.  Ginny wears the two stickers her office handed out about those bills--background checks and K-12 safety in schools. 

Not a surprise that we were almost almost entirely women.  I heard someone say recently that we'd know progress had been made toward our goal when a large number of men turned out for these events.  Those I heard were gun owners eager to make a case for their representing the "sensible" gun owners.

When they form a new organization, separate from the NRA, it will be easier for me to hear them.  Even though the majority of the state's population is in Portland and its metro area, laws or lack of them, favor those in rural areas.  Only the mayors of Eugene, where the University of Oregon is located, and Portland are participants in Bloomberg's "Mayors Demand an End to Illegal Guns" coalition.  And here I was in Salem, the state capitol, third largest city in the state (pop. 154,637), and a mayor who has not signed on. 

Since moving here, I've been amazed that government buildings have little concern about security.  Back in New York City I was always ready to hold open my purse for checking not only at City Hall but museums too.  Attending court hearings in 2006 for Grandmothers Against the War, I even had to give up my knitting needles.  Here, one simply walks right in with a smile.

The State House was built in 1936, the third one after fire destroyed two.  I liked the feeling of being part of the democratic process as I walked its halls.  The Impressive rotunda, the carpeting with images of chinook salmon and wheat representing fishing and agriculture central to Oregon's economy and identity. Sorry I was moving too fast to get a photo of the carpet to show grandkids.

At noon we gathered for the Rally.  There were 150 of us, an accurate count by the media, and 50 of the very loud, anti-control NRA guys.  Of course some of them carried weapons so we would not miss seeing what they feared losing if stricter gun controls were enacted.  

Under a tent the coalition that had organized the Rally erected a Memorial Wall. Children's shoes were lined up across the bottom.  Any of us could post photos, thoughts. My two contributions were a cartoon--teacher thanks a student, "Why Bobby how thoughtful.  A holster for my glock!"  And a "Sensible Firearms Resolution" a neighbor of mine had written.  

The Oregon Alliance for Gun Control is three groups--two that have been around for a while, Oregon Ceasefire and the Brady Campaign.  The third is new:  Moms Demand A Plan.  I hope this coalition approach continues; we have so much more strength, can pool our resources more effectively.  And we are all working toward the same goal.

No surprise that it was raining off and on.  Though most longtime Oregonians are loath to use umbrellas, many popped up in the crowd.  Toward the end of the Rally, I found myself standing behind our friends Carl and Olivia.  They were in Clackamas Town Center when the shooting began and Carl (at left in photo) spoke of the need to keep close to young adolescent boys and they struggle with their values.

Olivia brought one of her beautiful paintings inspired by her pain when she learned of the massacre at Newtown.  My neighbor, who gave me a ride and helps me understand this Northwest Territory, took our picture. 

On Facebook, I've both connected with the local group and learned what women are doing nationally through Moms Demand Action.   Representing the Moms in Portland,  Jenny, here with Sen. Burdick, collected speakers (legislators and community people) who kept our attention.  For a change there was no foolishness from the antis.

Though it was exhausting for me and my senior lady friends, we're ready to go forward in this difficult struggle.

*Now, 45 years later, my grown child has young children who need protection from gun violence.  

Spring has crept into Portland!

Early March, a new Ron-hat for Zoe, then mid-March and a bluebird at People's Co-op across the river from us,  the southeast city....

and fishermen, working in tandem, on the South Waterfront bring in a 40-inch sturgeon, and it's March 30--almost April.

A mid-20th century romance began, endures...

 

THE LONG-TERM MARRIAGE

At last she’s happy, reigning with her creams,

rubbing his scalp’s roof until it gleams.

As the squamous-cell carcinomas sprout,

the local dermatologist cuts them out

 

or frosts the lunar surface with liquid nitrogen.

The creams come from West Fourteenth Street, Manhattan,

FedExed from their adopted son’s boyfriend’s home,

a relationship that remains, to them, unknown.

 

Their Oriental rugs are steeped in piss

from the bulldog barking like an activist.

Bickering over misplaced books, the tchotchkes

lost, and how she re-remembers her stories,

 

they wait with an unfinished, finished look,

and note how honeysuckle crowns Old Saybrook

and thistles overrun their last garden.

The dash between their dates is nearly done.

                                                                -Spencer Reece

Published in The New Yorker,  April 13, 2009;  on my bulletin board since then.

On a spring day in Portland, Oregon, I celebrate  meeting my spouse in Manhattan.  March 1966,  a large, airless room at a counseling conference in the Commodore Hotel. He was presenting; I was in the audience determined to get my question answered.  He took me for an ice cream soda at a nearby Schrafft's on 42nd Street..  It was a lovely day; we walked twenty blocks south.

We lived four blocks apart--Ron in a  classic 8-story 1930s building--one-bedroom, rent-controlled  ($110) on East 24th. Mine was a smaller studio ($160), in a new 21-story high-rise.    We married in his apartment October 29, 1966--the same year NOW began.  The word "femnism" was not in my vocabulary at the time.  We disagreed on the war in Vietnam.  We moved quickly toward working on equality between women and men--and being very opposed to the "American war," as it's known in Vietnam.

Two children, four grandchilddren, several moves--Oberlin, Ohio then Baltimore, Maryland, then back to New York City before landing in Portland.

The Commodore, built in 1919, was renovated inside and out in 1980.  Unrecognizable to us in its current state. Schrafft's is gone.  We are still New Yorkers in spirit, almost 50 years later, in Portland, Oregon.  

Sourdough + Buttermilk = delicious bread

How much I'd missed making bread.  My baking enthusiast friend Molly visited in February and this was to be an opportunity.  We had so much to talk about that--classes at Portland State, whether she would take a college loan because three (!) jobs and 16 credits were too much.   I refreshed my starter and sent her home with some.  

Politics intervened.. Nationally it has been all the efforts to counteract efforts to withdraw women's agency-- the equity and freedom we worked so hard to achieve in the 20th century. Petitions to sign, phone calls to make to D.C.

Locally, it's support of improved gun control legislation in Oregon.  The other local political activity was the dive I took into running for the board of my retirement community.  Though I lost--which might be for the best--the experience was a good one.  Much positive feedback from neighbors and the chance to encourage conversations among residents on ideas they had for improvements.  

Finally, actual bread-making had its moment.  B uttermilk around (do you buy certain food items that have a special appeal then have to figure out new ways to use?) that needed attention.  Found a recipe that put it together with my starter.  "Golden Sourdough" was its name and Shelene Wilhelm of Cheyenne, Wyoming, was the baker. I owe her well-written instructions many thanks.

Reduced the recipe by half though used even less  salt (1Tbsp.). Otherwise followed her lead--   expanded the starter overnight. Probably crucial to how well it turned out. Produced two pretty 8x4x5 inch loaves and a mini-loaf, great sourdough taste, more delicious over a few days.

It's a lot of bread for two trying to keep waistlines from spreading.  Shared slices with neighbors, gave entire mini to another friend.  After trying others, I've settled over the past year or so on Fairhaven white organic flour from the state of Washington.  Discovered since moving to Portland where there are better choices on local shelves than in New York.  

What I'm finding as I move toward 80, is the need to be less ambitious.  Recipes that were challenging a year or two ago leave me tired when contemplating.  This one only had some combining of ingredients before long kneading with dough hook attachment on trusty 1980s Kitchen Aid.  Ron helped when bowlful of dough became too heavy for me to hold/scrape at same time.  He does much of the cooking and looks to me for recipe selection.  That works!  

 

 

New York Times discovers Oregon gun "issues"

Many false starts for this blog is about my horror with the gun culture in Portland, in Oregon.  I  attended a gun control rally last month.  Horror?

Yes.  I had never been in a public place and seen men with rifles.

Walking among us--women, children, old people. Neighbors of mine have gathered since the gun murders in our own city at Clackamas Town Center, followed by the elementary school in New Town, Connecticut.  We were at a rally to support gun control.  City Hall in downtown Portland.

An hour earlier friends and I had listened to a plea from Penny Okamoto of Ceasefire Oregon to mobilize ourselves to move along legislation under review in the state house. She is the hardworking, unpaid staff person.  There is no paid staff for the group.

At the rally I'd met, talked with state senator Ginny Burdick, who represents this area.  Another hardworking woman who has spent years trying to get more human-centered gun control legislation passed.  Another hardworking woman.

I cannot get used to the idea often voiced that we should speak of  "gun safety" because that is less infuriating to our opponents than "gun control."

Then the opposition, supported by the head of the state Republican Party went to Burdick's home and videotaped her daily life--like taking out trash.  We were prepared to attend a meeting she called on upcoming legislation.  She cancelled the meeting.

Next, Steve Duin, among the few readable columnists in the sad daily, had a Sunday piece with this headline  "Intimidation tactics may silence Salem..." [Salem is the state capitol not the one with the witchhunt history in Massachusetts].  

Now we learn that Mitch Greenlick, another member of the state legislature, has been subject to pro-gun ire that speaks to precisely who these people are, the racist anti-Obama men and women we've heard about nationally, the Tea Party enthusiasts:

"But even Greenlick has been surprised by the abusive, obscene and anti-Semitic tenor of the reaction to his support for gun-control legislation after the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre."

The next day there was an Op-ed column by Joe Nocera in the New York Times.  "Politics by Intimidation"  tells the Oregon gun story.  Must come as a surprise to all those convinced that Portland, the City of Roses, was like the light-hearted view from "Portlandia," great restaurants, craft beer overflowing.  But guns?

Living in Baltimore, in Harlem, I never felt as edgy about being on the streets as I do now. Day or night who knows if I may be sitting in a restaurant next to someone with a concealed weapon.  And he has a disagreement with his wife? 

My political life requires a placeholder...

Too much going on to be a frequent poster here...or infrequent.  Yet I want to stay with blogging as a practice even while I need more thought on its structure for the future. 

My neighbor Joella demonstrates a perfect solution for all those buttons we collected in second wave activity in last century--coast to coast.  Hers in Oregon, mine mostly Baltimore and New York.  Gun control is a shared focus through Ceasefire Oregon.

Marian Wright Edelman on Inauguration Day 2013 in conversation with Melissa Harris-Perry wears image of Sojourner Truth.  Takes our feminism back to the 19th century struggle for African-American equality.  Read Ta-Nehisi Coates in the March Atlantic on why the re-election of Obama matters even more than the first. 

Speaking of blogging, the life in bread has not had enough attention here. It has not had as much attention as I would wish.  Here's a whole wheat sourdough made in October 2011.

My personal challenge is should I emulate one of my favorite, 19th century feminists, Frances E. Willard of the WCTU (Women's Christian Temperance Union).

"Do Everything" was her motto. Is it mine?   Her unusual book,  "A Wheel with in Wheel: How I Learned to Ride the Bicycle" used that newly-introduced contrivance as a metaphor for women's lives.  An excerpt HERE  with comments by a contemporary blogger.

And so you have it: Black History month (a young friend recently pointed out is the shortest month of the year) and the upcoming Women's History Month.  Both of which call out for celebration more often.  I hope to do my part one day soon but till then...  

Portland, when it's good for old people

Oh, it is a challenge to keep batting away like summer mosquitoes our national bad news. Especially when I start the day by reading the local, daily newspaper.  The Oregonian shapes its content to appeal to dwellers on some far-off planet. Many of them live right here in oppostion to the trendy, very young and hip types celebrated on Portlandia.

If mine were one of those everybody-reads-blogs on Huffington Post, I'd run a contest to name the group of dailies across America that ignore/disparage all ideas sensible people hold dear...gun control, CHOICE, climate change.  I wish Rachel Maddow, an excellent "namer" would come up with something.  See her post "This Week in God" for the latest on a a favorite category she calls, "the God Machine."

However, in the tradition of  What Would Rachel Maddow Do? Let's turn to my good news.   As privileged old lady and man, we take advantage of our reasonably good health (thank you Medicare and Maryland retirement system) and disposable income to go to the theater often. [Too many disclaimers but often have company at Hattie's Web.  Especially today it turns out.]  Since we're drawn to what we knew in New York as "off" and "off-off Broadway," the cost of the habit is reasonable.

"The Road to Mecca,"  presented in a small space by Profile Theater was one of three we've seen in the last week.  (Overdosing due to baby-sitting schedule.)  Glorious photo by Jamie Bosworth; enlarge it to see the perfect set--worn rugs, many glass bottles on tables, hanging from above.

Made me think of Grandma Prisbrey's Bottle Village, how many of us fill space, aloneness with  objects endowed with special meaning. Portland Monthly's useful, thoughtful review here.  

It was invigorating to be with actress Eileen DeSandre, who embodies aging perfectly as Miss Helen, the central character, has found her own bliss through non-traditional art-making.  Of course, I could very much identify with that.  Though South African playwright Athol Fugard writes about his own country, it could be mine. The other two actors played parts familiar to many of us.  There was Elsa, played by Amanda Solden, the young friend, both powerful and gentle, who wants Miss Helen to embody personal strength she seeks in herself.   David Bodin was an oppressive church minister, determined to convince  Miss Helen to move to an old people's home. He had more dimension than we'd expected as he ultimately revealed a softer side wrapped in his judgemental exterior.

Talkback.  As I've written elsewhere, Ron and I gravitate toward these.  How else can strangers in a city, women and men who may never meet again, share our pleasure, our questions about a theatrical experience.  Last night's included two of the actors, the young director (how do they have so much insight so early), and Katy Liljeholm, Artistic Director of Well Arts, an arts-in-medicine nonprofit theatre company.  "Voices of Elders" is one of their life-review projects at a local senior center.

We were a most suitable audience for her:  a mostly over 50 group, mostly women, with much to relate to about our own roads to Mecca.  Great evening...preceded by that other thing Portland does well: FOOD, delicious, moderately priced for happy hour (unknown to us in New York), a short walk from the theater at Accanto.