Old Birds

JWise Moments, Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise spinning fiber to make yarn in Phoenix, Arizona

There’s a sense of delight when you look at the person you fell in love with so many years ago and take a moment to realize how deeply you are still enamored with countless aspects of who they are. There is not one thing or even a multitude of qualities I could pin my affection on regarding how I feel for Caroline. When I found myself lost in how the light was falling on her hair, shirt, and face with her gaze focused on what she was doing, I smiled inside and, in an instant, sighed upon the realization of how familiar I am with how her hands work at spinning yarn, typing, turning a page, holding a seashell, or reaching for my hand. I smiled at the single headphone in her ear as she was listening to an audiobook while the other dangled to the side so she could hear me if I talked to her. Her glasses are probably dirty because that’s their normal state, but that won’t stop her from looking up to glance at me occasionally and offer me a big warm smile with eyes that say, I love you.

As much as she appreciates putzing around at home on the weekend, Caroline also enjoys just hanging out with me, savoring her iced coffee with a splash of oat milk, joining in on the occasional conversation I strike up with people, and playing with whatever craft she’s brought along. The Fitbit on her left wrist reminds me that we were out walking earlier and that we’ll be walking again after dinner, as we probably get about 75% of our 10,000 steps a day walking together, often hand in hand. The blouse she’s wearing is a recent acquisition from Mexico because, for the past year, she’s been absolutely in love with clothes from the Mayan region of Chiapas, Mexico. Had this been 20 years ago, she might have been wearing a salwar kameez or kurti (Hindu shirt), as my wife has never been one to care about fitting in with the hip crowd while being appreciative of the diversity of global culture.

During the times we are apart, though we are never really apart because Skype is always open, so we can reach out and nudge one another with a hug or expression of love, we are still connected even if nothing is shared. There’s something about our relationship that seems to have grown in its symbiotic nature, as though we are becoming conjoined. This has me thinking about how albatrosses can spend years learning to cooperate before becoming mates for life; maybe that’s what Caroline and I are like. I was talking with ChatGPT about this, and it shared, “Albatross courtship is quite elaborate and can involve synchronized flying, mutual preening, and a variety of calls and displays. These rituals are important for forming strong pair bonds that can last a lifetime.” It also pointed out how albatrosses can spend 50 or more years together and that the oldest wild albatross, at 70 years old, is still rearing chicks, meaning it and its lifelong mate are still bonded. Yep, we are like a couple of old birds.

Winter Bed / Summer Bed

JWise Life

Futon guts from Futon Favorite in Phoenix, Arizona

Today, on the momentous day of taking possession of a brand new futon mattress to replace our well-worn antique, I thought I’d let you in on the nature of our sleep experience. While our travels are shared on a frequent basis, an accounting of the many hours spent horizontally has been neglected, so this is my attempt to repair that. I recently ordered a new mattress from the same guy at Futon Favorite who made our previous one, Tom Flower. I have to mention Tom because he’s the only person in Arizona handmaking these futons, and what’s more, he let me have a peek into the process. Caroline and I don’t care a hoot about box springs or memory foam and would prefer that there’s not a hint of polyester or flame retardant anywhere near our sleeping heads. Do you want cotton batting, be it organic or otherwise, double wool lining or other special requests? Futon Favorites has you covered.

Futon Favorite in Phoenix, Arizona

Somehow, our previous mattress lasted for 16 years, or maybe I should say that it existed as it should have been replaced a few years ago, but circumstances regarding where we’d be putting our heads to rest were in question, so we held out. With our backs paying the price for that delay, it finally was time to act. After having the incredible good fortune of watching Tom build one of these, I need to point out that he says I’m the very first person afforded that opportunity. Later, I was able to transport our new futon home and, with considerable difficulty, drag our old, much heavier mattress to the trash before setting up our beautiful new bed. Onward to how we dress this thing.

Bedding

Caroline and I use two configurations, one for winter and one for summer. No matter which version is currently being utilized, our bed is the coziest bed we could ever imagine and has been so forever. Well, there is one phase that is less than optimal, and that’s the one we are in now, transitioning from winter to summer. The major highlight of our seasonal shift from the hot Arizona summer to even slightly chilly evenings is when we can bring out our goose-down comforter. It gets stuffed into a jacquard loom woven flax/linen duvet cover from Portugal while our futon is covered with a flax/linen sheet used instead of a cotton sheet. Our pillowcases are handsewn by Caroline of some beautiful cotton fabric we found while out traveling. Our current set of pillowcases was made of two different fabrics, both with an ocean motif. The two sides of the pillowcase are on the left, and on the right is our blue linen duvet, and the comforter is next to it

During the winter, the heater is never needed, even when the place dips below about 55 degrees (about 13c), because we have gloves and sweaters to deal with the cold. We have a space heater in the bathroom for warming it while we’re in the shower, should you be wondering.

Linen sheet and blanket

Here in the transition zone, we only reluctantly give up the comforter while considering using the air conditioning to chill the place so it is still comfortable in our cozy nest of a bed. Being rational about the amount of electricity we use, we eschew the idea and, with heavy hearts, place the comforter in a corner near the bed just in case we find ourselves too cold to sleep well. In our spring-and-summer configuration, the linen sheet we sleep on remains the same, but now the Tischdecke is brought out of the cabinet it’s been hibernating in. “Tischdecke” is German for tablecloth, and that’s exactly what this linen blanket feels like for the first weeks. The heft of the comforter is sorely missed, but as our place starts warming with the approach of summer, it becomes impossible to sleep under it. Our summer blanket is made by the same company that makes our sheets.

Considering that nearly a third of our life is spent in bed, we have certainly cultivated a cocoon worthy of worship that serves us in heavenly ways, which have us longing for it while out traveling. When it’s time to go to bed, it’s done so knowing that within minutes, we’ll be well asleep, snuggling into the world of dreams. There might even be times that we feel we have an awkward relationship with our bed as after the love of each other, we’d both likely admit to being in love with this bed, except for the week or two getting used to the Tischdecke.

For future reference:

Bed Threads French flax linen blanket – $200

Bed Threads French flax linen flat sheet – $110

Parachute flax linen duvet cover – $270

L.L. Bean baffle-box stitch goose down comforter, queen/warm – $400

Futon Favorite handmade mattress, queen – $640

Happy May Day

JWise Photo of the Day, Thoughts

Saguaro bloom in Phoenix, Arizona

Something that isn’t always readily apparent is that I take breaks from writing for this blog, especially after dealing with some exceptionally long posts. In this case, it was following the 10,000 words and over 100 photos I had written about our visit to Death Valley National Park in California back in early April. Blog posts published between these bigger events are not always written in sequence; take the Frog Pond entry as an example: it was written while I was deep in carving out my thoughts about Death Valley.

I felt that I needed to take a pause as there are times that my mind falls into an intensity of writing to the exclusion of other things, and these nearly two weeks were one of those times. Last year, I wasn’t afforded any breaks due to our extensive travel schedule, but then I was prepared for the long haul. This year, we do not have such a rigorous routine ahead of us, also by choice, and so I’ve been able to “take time off” to focus on some neglected areas of life, such as music things. Today, my pause caught up with me, and the proverbial cup overfloweth.

Barrel cactus bloom in Phoenix, Arizona

When I’m writing, my deep focus on trying to find meaningful exposition has me blocking everything around me while I am gazing at my photos and looking to discover if there’s an essence of love imbued in the images that will inspire my fingers to write something eloquent. I’ve often shared with others that my morning writing routine is a catharsis and my version of the gym allowing me to work out. Failing that, I stare into our world, and what I see is a horror show where a flood of stupid spills over my senses and sends shockwaves into my ability to focus.

It was time to escape, but first, I had to put digital pen to electrons and hammer out a screed of anger, allowing my spleen a proper venting, so I wrote Self-Righteous Stupidity, and with indignation and self-loathing, I allowed myself to fall into the turmoil and torture that is often my travel companion when I’m forced to consider the ugly situation of the masses surrounding me. This opportunity to use my time as I see fit, considering I don’t have the requirement to report to a job, can be a curse at the same time; it is a blessing. At least in the course of going to work, we can console ourselves with the idiom, “The devil you know…” as we grow accustomed to our co-workers, but when every day we are confronted with the confounding heavy-handed stupidity of those likely wasting a few minutes in banal small talk, society starts to take on the appearance of failing state where only the dumb will inherit the future.

Ocotillo bloom in Phoenix, Arizona

Unhappy in my pursuit, I needed to break out and put myself back on track by channeling something meaningful to me anyway. So, I grabbed my camera and a long lens, heading out into a hot and windy May Day to capture some of the flowers that Caroline and I have been vibing to during our morning walks. By looking into the natural world populated by things other than people, I am allowed to expunge the distraction fraught with the ugly bits that currently obsess humanity and see the flowers and birds who just go on surviving with nary a care for the drama that consumes us bipedal idiots.

The saguaros are in bloom, as are the barrel cacti and ocotillo plants, though that’s not all because we are currently in the throes of a pollen storm as our desert transitions from cooler to hotter season. The riot of color brings with it a riot of nasal flow, but that’s okay as the pollen will start to fade while it’s transformed into a baked dust that will sit atop the surrounding desert scape until the arrival of the monsoons sends it aloft to attack us for a second time. If we are lucky, the monsoons won’t only bring high winds but will carry rain with them to just as quickly wash it all away. Venturing out into my neighborhood to take in these images is, for me, the proverbial monsoon rinsing the dry, scratchy senses left raw by the pollen of stupid people.

Cactus bloom in Phoenix, Arizona

Should you think I enjoy this brusque assault on those around me, you’d be wrong. I want to have compassion for those who can’t help themselves, but we live in an age where we can all help ourselves be better informed and not so gullible to sensationalist manufactured outrage. Until the time when we collectively awake and take to cultivating the potential we all have, I will continue the lament that our society is by and large withering in the throes of great stupidity with nothing to show for it but the ugliness of intolerance and petty-minded simpleness that is unbecoming of a species where only the fringes are in full bloom.

Frog Pond

JWise Photo of the Day

Ground Squirrels at Reach 11 Recreation Area in Phoenix, Arizona

We’d not stopped at the Reach 11 Recreation Area here in Phoenix for quite a while and we felt that today after breakfast was a great time to take a walk, before it gets uncomfortably hot to be out in this exposed area. Everything we love about this place is much the same as it was the last time we visited, lizards, birds, ground squirrels, ants, flying insects, and as much quiet as one is likely to find considering we are in the city. There is something new though; well, not new but certainly an abundance we’d not witnessed previously: we counted no less than 6 little plastic bags of dog shit tossed to the side and 4 piles of dog shit right on the pathway abandoned by those who simply couldn’t be bothered.

Frogs at Reach 11 Recreation Area in Phoenix, Arizona

Meanwhile, over at the frog pond, the croakers were out in force. Once again, please forgive the poor quality of these photos taken with my phone but it’s the best I have to offer as I left the DSLR at home since I hadn’t considered there’d be wildlife out for our morning walk.

Easter Bunny and Wife

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise and the Easter Bunny in Phoenix, Arizona

A little-known fact about me is that every year I volunteer somewhere to be the Easter Bunny but this year I’m letting the cat out of the bag by posting this photo of Caroline and me standing in front of the grocery where I’ll be greeting kids and letting their parent snap an Easter photo of their tots with me, Mr. Easter Bunny. By the way, you do know what today’s date is, right?

[Truth be known, I wanted to have my picture taken with the Easter Bunny at least once in my life. And this one looks benign, compared to the nightmare-inducing creature looming in this classic photo. – Caroline]

The Phoenix Chorale

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise at the Phoenix Art Museum for The Phoenix Chorale

What do old nerds do on a Friday night to maximize their sense of geekiness? Not only do they go to the art museum, but they also go there to take in some 18th and 21st-century chorales. How could one go wrong listening to a chamber orchestra coming together with a choir come in the performance of Handel’s Dixit Dominus? There was one hiccup, but that has everything to do with perception and misperception because accompanying the first part of this evening’s performance was a projection of imagery on two walls that distracted me. You see, there was text blended in with the images which took me out of the thorough enjoyment of the music. It was only after getting to this point in front of the page that I came to understand the precise meaning of the texts we were shown. They were the English translations of the Psalm in Latin used by Handel for this piece. During the intermission, I’d even spoken with Nicole Belmont the executive director of the Phoenix Chorale and she told us that text related to the piece but it wasn’t clear that they were translations. Now I wish I could watch the performance again with this knowledge.

The Phoenix Chorale performing at the Phoenix Art Museum

The second set of pieces to be performed this evening was Sarah Kirkland Snider’s Mass for the Endangered. The lyrical content in the form of a libretto was written by Sarah’s friend, poet and writer Nathaniel Bellows, and together they’ve created a compelling chorale for the modern age that instead of an appeal to god, looks to nature and its voiceless creatures asking that we consider their plight. The visuals that accompanied Mass for the Endangered were created by Deborah Johnson of CandyStations and reminded me of a mix between Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life and the photographic work of animals in motion from Eadweard Muybridge, they were the perfect accompaniment. Here is a glimpse if you are interested.

Following the performance, we were invited to stick around for a brief talk by Phoenix Chorale conductor Christopher Gabbitas, Deborah Johnson, Sarah Kirkland Snider, and Simone Netherlands. Simone was on hand to speak about the Salt River Wild Horses Management Group and their newest endeavor to save another group of wild horses up in the Alpine area of Arizona. What a great night to get our nerd on.