The Shakers

 At one time, there were 6,000 Shakers in the U.S., but only 2 Shakers remain.  Brother Arnold and Sister June live in Maine.  They stay pretty busy with their farming, sheep shearing, lavender drying and song singing. They hope more Shakers will join them at Sabbathday Lake Shaker Village one of these days.  

The Shakers got their start in England, but Ann Lee (Mother Ann) and 8 other Shakers arrived in the colonies before the American Revolution.  Besides celibacy, they believe in pacifism, racial and gender equality, economic cooperation, dedication to the land, and the sanctity of labor.  Not crazy about the celibacy or crazy work ethic, but other than that, I'm mostly all in with Shaker principles.  

The westernmost Shaker village, called Busro, was in Southern Indiana.  Issachar Bates and a few other Shaker missionaries walked to the midwest recruiting Shakers along the way.  Bates, a poet, was known as "a merry singer of ballad tales."  

The Shakers lived in Busro, (later renamed West Union) from 1811 to 1827.  Revolutionary War veterans and free Black people were among their numbers. Like movers and shakers of today, they had their share of troubles in their new home. They were on Indian land, so the Shawnee weren't thrilled.  War of 1812 brought William Henry Harrison and his soldiers with their belligerence and violence.  Hoosier neighbors distrusted and persecuted the Shakers. There were earthquakes and tornadoes.  In 1827, the Shakers cleared out of Indiana.  

The Indiana Shaker site is now owned privately with only a historical marker to honor the hundreds of brave idealists that tried their best to bring Shakerism to the western United States. Kudos to the 2 Shakers and their outer family supporters who stay loyal at Sabbathday Lake Shaker Village.  If you're a teacher in Maine, don't forget that this is a great site for an interesting, fun field trip.

For everyone else, enjoy this snippet of Shaker song, featuring Frances McDormand.

 

The Clamor

 Last week brought heat advisories, indoor recesses and continued clamorous interruptions in 3rdLand. I care for neither excessive noise nor clamor, so shrewish virago is my current teacher identity.  Embodying shrewish virago is exhausting.  And you don't have to tell me it's poor pedagogy because I already know that.

I attempted to lighten up at afternoon meeting on Thursday and told a hilarious anecdote.  At the conclusion of my tale of comic brilliance, the 3rdLanders erupted into such a clamorous din of screaming and rolling around on the floor that my apple watch signaled excessive decibel levels in my immediate environment.  With prolonged exposure, I could suffer hearing loss.  

Geez Louise.  

I hope we can all settle into the supportive, thriving community we know from movies such as To Sir With Love, Good Morning Miss Dove, Dead Poets Society and School of Rock. I do see a few glimmers of hope.  At the very least they appreciate a well told tale. Also, we'll have cooler weather this week. 

ps:  If you want to check out Mitzker's travel blog, you should.  Her photos of the wildlife in South Africa are incredible. 

The Good Times

Back to 3rdLand.  As you have probably deduced, return to the classroom has put a cramp in my identity as a blogging writer and cheerful human being.  

Maybe things are turning the corner because here I am, getting the blog done.  Also, I remember smiling a few times when Husbandman and I went out for sushi this afternoon.

In this blog entry, let's focus on the good times.  

The best thing that's happening in my life right now is the Harris Walz campaign. I'm feeling all the joy and hope along with the rest of the good people of our country.  But FYI:  Please don't forget that I still love Joe Biden and I don't care what anyone says about him because he's a good man and an inspiring President whose only single mistake he ever made was getting old.  

The second best thing is my new apple watch, which I bought because my re-entry to teacherLand was kind of stressful.  This was a good move on my part.  I love it so.

The third best thing is the awesome lunch Husbandman makes for me each day.  At noon, after I drop the 3rdLanders off at HELL-SITE, aka the cafeteria, I enter my quiet classroom, dim the lights and shut the door.  I open my lunch box, and munch away happily on all four food groups as I try to make some progress on the Spelling Bee. It's pleasant as all get out and helps me reset for the afternoon.

The fourth best thing is a haiku that a kid wrote after our haiku hike.  The haiku hike was on this week's highlight reel.  Super fun.  Here's the haiku:

Daddy long legs

was walking until Dr. H.

stepped on him

 The kid was pretty angry when he shared his haiku with me. I had no idea I had killed the daddy longlegs and  I felt bad because each morning I re-commit to doing "no harm to any sentient being."  

Putting the past in the past, we soldier on. Maybe the worst is behind us.

The Last Stop: Crete

We're finishing up our summer trip in Crete, the largest of the 6,000 Greek islands.  We've taken it easy here, but we did traipse around 2 old cities.  Come to find out, everyone and their brother has wanted, and taken, a piece of Crete.  Romans, Byzantines, Andalusian Muslims, Venetians, Ottomans.  They've come and gone, but they've left their remnants and remembrances.  Fun Fact: Crete joined up with Greece under its own accord in 1913.

Venetian Port, Chania

Minaret - Rethymno Mosque

Nazi bombing of Crete 1941 - Rethymno

Today we drove out to see the Ancient Olive Tree of Vouves. This olive tree is between 3000 and 5000 years old.  It's probably safe to say that the tree is 4,000 years old.  It's a stunning tree, but it doesn't rest on its laurels.  It's still offering its olives to the Cretans. I love this tree a lot. I wish I could live inside it for the rest of my life.

In conclusion, Crete has history everywhere you look.  I could have learned more, but we mostly focused on water activities such as swimming or eating at seaside restaurants.  We've had a delightful time, but all good things must come to an end.  We leave tomorrow morning for a day of travel back to our Hoosier home where in a few short months, we'll elect our next president, Kamala Harris.  Let's go!!!!

Ta leme argotera, Crete.  See you next time!

                                                           

The Third Stop: Athens

Athens has been wonderful in some ways, challenging in others.  Let me explain. 

 We got caught up in the airline shutdown fiasco of '24, and did not arrive to our Athens hotel until 2:30 in the morning.  We had ferry tickets for the morning so we hardly slept that first night. We got to the ferry on time, but a British man named Nick sat next to us and talked non-stop. Lucky for me, Husbandman, with his superior conversational skills, dealt with Nick while I applied laser focus to my book.

We loved Hydra.  There are no cars allowed on Hydra.  Some people use donkeys.  We chose to walk.  We found a beautiful place for swimming and mocktails where we lounged for a good long while. We had no water shoes, so we had to walk across burning stones to the sea whenever we wanted to get back in the water.  Imagine a bed of hot coals.  After swimming, we headed to a delightful lunch spot on a shady terrace overlooking the port.  Greece gets high points for veggie friendly, tasty food items.  I love the food here.

The heat has been tough this week.  Not going to lie. I suspect I may have a serious heat intolerance condition.  Or I could just be pathetically out of shape. Not sure. Either way, the heat caused some changes in my typical tourism routines.

We did go to the Museum of Cycladic Art where we saw a terrific Cindy Sherman exhibit and learned about the artists who made these figurines.  From 2700 BC to about 2300 BC they were all made pretty much the same.  But then some wiseacres introduced variations. Moving one arm slightly akimbo for example.  I loved these figures and have nothing but appreciation for the ancient Creatives of the Cyclades.

We went to the Acropolis but the heat and the crowds were super unpleasant.  10 years ago, Husbandman and I came to Athens in February.  At that time I walked to the Acropolis twice in one week. No crowds at all.  Stray dogs lazing about.  A few small groups of tourists walking around chatting. Delightful.  But this time, my heat intolerance and social anxiety caused me to nearly have a cardiac arrest. That said, the Parthenon is crazy impressive.  It was built around 450 BC. You should go there if you feel like it.  Don't let my ridiculous heat intolerance stop you.

Husbandman has been working this week, grueling away at mathematics.  His colleague loaned us a cool, charming apartment near the city center.  Last night we walked out to this wonderful restaurant.  Another amazing meal.

We go to Crete tomorrow, the final stop of the journey.  

We've had our ups and downs, Athens, but I'm not mad at you. 

And we will return.  

But not in the summer. 

Antio kai efcharisto! 

The Second Stop: Seville

 

Seville is beautiful with a wild history.  We toured some mind blowing World Heritage Sites. I loved Real Alcazar and the Cathedral. Palace of Las Duenas is not a world heritage site, yet, but if you feel like it you should definitely go there. 

The heat has been a challenge, but Husbandman and I have figured out how to do the right amount of stuff each day so that neither of us gets heatstroke. Our hotel has a pool, so a late afternoon swim has been part of our routine.  

The food has been another challenge.  I'm a vegetarian who will eat a shrimp or an oyster if placed right in front of me.  Rarely, but yes, I do it.  (Please don't kick me out of the vegetarian club because of this. Cut me some slack why don't you?)  Seville serves a lot of fishy fish that I do not care for.  They mostly serve a ton of meat products.  They are big on meat here. Meat prepared every which way. 

  Croquettes are also frequently on the menu.  I loved the veggie croquettes we ate at Elsa and Fred, but, come to find out, most croquettes are meaty. Ever hopeful for the possibility of veggie croquettes, I asked a waiter at  Pasaje about them.  He replied haltingly,  "They are filled with.... how would you say it.... it does not sound good.... but it is good...they are filled with blood." 

Blood.  Seriously? 

Seville, we loved our time with you despite the food issues. You're super friendly and beautiful.

Adios and gracias! On to Athens.

The First Stop: Barcelona

 We've been staying in the Born area of Barcelona with narrow cobblestone streets and secret passages. Centuries old stone buildings and shady plazas.  

Have been noticing a lot of strolling happening around town.  Especially after a late dinner of tapas.  It's as if people didn't have a care in the world. 

I'd like to do more strolling of an evening when I get home, but I would prefer the Bloomington strolling to be more like Barcelona strolling where I'm with hundreds of others and I'm not walking alone down 1st Street on my way to Bryan Park like I'm the sheriff in a ghost town. 

Tangent:  Sagrada Familia didn't disappoint.  We loved the views from the top of the Passion Tower.  Good job, Gaudi.

In conclusion, we leave tomorrow morning for Seville.  I know comparison is the enemy of joy, but I fear that Seville won't be as good as Barcelona.  This place is super wonderful. Keep up the good work, Barcelona.  Well done!

The Non-Metropolitan Diary

Hoagy Carmichael lived here when he was a kid.  He wrote 100s of songs and 50 of them were big hits.    4 of Hoagy's songs are among the most recorded songs in history.  And yes, he was born right here in our town and is buried over in Rose Hill Cemetery. I walked by his house while taking my 5th history walk of the summer. 

On a meandering walk south of campus I came across this eye-catching mural which I believe is new.  I've never seen it before and I've walked next to my dentist's office a bunch of times.  I'm sure I would have noticed it. Bloomington is really upping their mural game.  Keep it up, B-town.  Way to support #publicART!

Wednesday Surprise:  Music at The Elm with John Raymond and Jeremy Allen 

As you can see from these photos, I've been traipsing around town doing my best and forgetting the rest. 

Mitzker and I were happy as all get out to see John Raymond and Jeremy Allen playing music at The Elm when we popped in for dinner on Wednesday evening.

I know of these two jazz cats because a). Jeremy Allen was #1 Son's spectacular bass professor at Jacobs School and b.) John Raymond, also a Jacobs School professor, played his tremendous trumpet with #1 Son at a Jazz Kitchen show last year. I also have a sweet connection to a younger member of the Raymond fam. 

On our way out after a delightful dinner, I stopped to take a photo of the players.  A couple nearby gestured me over to their table. "Ma'am, ma'am," the man whispered as I was walking by.  I leaned  toward them and he said, "The bass player is our son." 

I felt a chill, a zip and a zing.  Their pride was palpable and so was mine when I gushed back, "Well, YOUR son was MY son's teacher. We are very fond of YOUR son. He was so good to our son Quinn who is now... a bass player...in Asheville North Carolina!"  I ended my gushing with a flourish.  The mom clapped her hands.  The dad said, "That's great, that's great."  

Mitz and I said adieu and then I floated off to my car, happy about my membership in  the PPBB-- short for Proud Parents of Bloomington Bassists.  This serendipitous meetup made me think of the Metropolitan Diary pieces that NYT readers send in about their walks around town.  Then I remembered this blog and decided that writing about it here could work just fine.

FYI:  Jeremy Allen and John Raymond will be playing at the ELM on Wednesdays through July. You should see them if you feel like it.

The Asheville Experience

 

The Land of the Sky offered us a top notch combination of leisure and learning (L & L) on our most recent sojourn.  

Our drive along Blue Ridge Parkway was a highlight that we'll remember for the rest of our lives.  We picnicked at Mt. Mitchell, which is named after Elisha Mitchell, a geology professor for UNC in the 1830s.  He also served as their accountant. Using a barometer, he figured out that this place was the highest spot east of the Mississippi.  Before Mitchell's research, people thought the highest eastern point was in New Hampshire. 

People argued with Elisha, so he kept going back to prove his point. On one such journey, he fell, hit his head and drowned under a waterfall. His watch broke when he landed so his exact time of death is known.  Photos of the watch are in the park's museum. Elisha is buried atop Mt. Mitchell as he should be. Before the mountain was named after Elisha, it was called Black Dome.  Before that, the Cherokee called it Attakulla.  The park service should put a land acknowledgment up near Mitchell's grave site. Maybe they have but I didn't see one.

Mt. Mitchell is an International Biosphere Resource.  This is a title UNESCO hands out to sites around the world that scientists study in order to explore possible solutions to the environmental situation we've gotten ourselves into.

Moving on from learning to leisure. We heard #1 Son play with a new band called SMUT, pictured below.  It was their first performance.  Super fun time was had by all. The 5 players have impressive resumes and in my opinion Smut has earned the title of supergroup.   I've been learning about drummer Jeff Sipe's work with Aquarium Rescue Unit and Leftover Salmon.  

#1 Son plays with a diverse group of music makers.  We also heard him play some jazz with another power player, Michael Jeffrey Stevens.  They played at the library's monthly Jazz Hour.  I'm hoping to get a Jazz Hour started soon at the MCPL.

Lastly, I recommend two wow factor restaurants. Chai Pani and Curate.  Fabulous meals. 

The best part of the trip of course was our talks with #1 Son and Ms. Shea, who in this first year have become big boosters of their new home, the Land of the Sky.

In conclusion, you should go to Asheville if you feel like it. 

The Neighborhoods

 I walked through  McDoel Neighborhood and Prospect Hill Neighborhood this week. Our History Center offers free walking tour pamphlets, so swing by and grab a few next time you're ready to learn more about our town's history. Or you can click here and print them off at your house. 

There are many beautiful historic register homes in the Prospect Hill neighborhood.  The early 1900 houses here are fancy and some were owned by important peeps in our town.  Many were designed by actual architects.  We had an architect named John Nichols who ran a booming business. You keep reading his name as you walk along.  John Nichols this, John Nichols that.

Many of the homes in McDoel Gardens (1920s)  are simpler and came from Sears and Roebuck kits. Don't want to show favoritism, but I enjoyed the Prospect Hill more than McDoel. Some highlights from my walk there:

In 1900, a drug store owner named Wood Wiles had a house on Rogers Street. In the back there stands a garage that used to house the family horse and surrey.  Wood could walk to work on the square, but maybe he took the surrey if he was running late. 

Mickey Burke, a conductor on the Monon Railroad lived on West Third.  The house was built in 1906 and Mickey lived there with his wife until the late 1950s.  

Al Hayes, tinsmith, lived over on South Jackson. His house is called Tinker's Mansion.  He had a little building in the back for a family member with TB. Not sure if that was the best setup, but they probably made it work.  

The most impressive home is the Paris Dunning House.  Paris was actually the governor of Indiana and had some progressive views.  He's buried in nearby Rose Hill Cemetery.

One of our oldest homes, on S. Rogers, was built in 1840.  It's not too attractive, but let's give it a break.

I'm happy to report that both these walks were completely consistent with the goals of my temporary unemployment:  learning and leisure.   

Roscoe Rogers House 1906

Sare House 1906

This is the little building in the back of the Tinker's Mansion. The pamphlet said it provided "fresh air therapy" for a member of the family with TB.  Hardly any windows, so I think they were kidding themselves.   

The Woodblock Prints

As part of my summer break leisure and learning goals, I went to the Brown County Art Gallery this week to see some woodblock prints by Gustave Baumann.   The Art Gallery has a whole room devoted to his work.  I even watched a short video. 

 Gustave Baumann was born in Germany, but moved to Chicago at age 10.  He later moved to Brown County and lived there for six to ten years.  (Not sure if it's six or ten). He was somewhat famous for his colorful woodblock prints.  He was friends with T.C. Steele and a member of the artists' colony.  He lived above a drug store in Nashville.  His rent was 4 dollars a month. 

After Baumann soaked all he could from the Hoosier state, he moved out west to Santa Fe. He married and had one daughter. His artwork is displayed in 100 museums around our great land. 

After learning about Baumann firsthand,  I focused on leisure for the rest of the afternoon. I bought two ammonites from a rock shop, a novel at Naughty Dog Books and a salamander at the toy store.  

Learning about Baumann has spurred me to learn more about woodblock printmaking.  I may soon explore making my own block prints, using potatoes.