Evening Shadows

It's that time of day when breezes calm, light softens, and birds go still. It's a gentle time. I go quiet at sunset, wishing the time could be shared. The outline of trees moves up the sides of houses that are bright toward their peaks and darker below. The early blooms of flowering trees and shrubs have their colors for a few more minutes. The moon appears above it all. I'm drawn gently into night. With warmer weather, I'll enjoy the sound of cadydids.

Some places I've been, this time of day is a cue for the spirit world. Parents bring their children indoors so the shadows of the evening don't fall on them. Shutters are closed - pulled flat against houses so if spirits are afoot, they can move unimpeded around the outside walls and be on their way. Clothes lines are placed parallel to houses, not perpendicular to them for the same reason. Prayers are said before or after, but not during this time of spiritual risk. After dark, the shutters open and the night is filled with outdoor voices.

On the Bike Again

I just got back from my inaugural bike ride of the year. Right...I'm real hard core. I pawed around in several dresser drawers and located my bike shorts and long-sleeve bike shirt. Shoes were on a bottom shelf under a box that once contained a Christmas gift. Dog hair clung to the velcro straps. I opted for a bright yellow-green vest for my outter layer. It was visible in the closet. To the garage. I had to move a few storage boxes, my son's tools, canoe paddles, snow shovels, and a big bag of grass seed to get to my bike - an aging (but good in its day) cyclo-cross job. Returned to the bedroom to get my biking gloves. Helmet was in the garage in its usual place - on top of my office archives kept in a wall of cardboard boxes stacked against two cupboards containing my sons' old athletic gear and other unclaimed items. Replaced a really funky water bottle still on the bike. Tires were at 40# so pumped them up. I was ready to ride so didn't bother to lube the chain or anything else.

I exited my subdivision and stopped at a major intersection in a line of traffic waiting for the light to change. Rush hour begins in earnest at 4pm around here, and traffic speeds down the parkway that my line of traffic must cross. Have to be careful here since a green light doesn't necessarily mean it's safe to venture into the intersection. Parkway drivers often run their red light doing around 50. I got across the intersection and headed north paralleling the parkway on a bike trail. After crossing two more busy intersections and one blind off-ramp, I was headed west on the Washington and Old Dominion bike trail. My destination was Ashburn, Virginia, a round trip of 24 miles.

There weren't many riders on the trail, but a high percentage of them were obviously regular riders in good condition. Their bikes sped by silently. Mine clicked along as I took in the sites. (Should have lubed.) A new golf course is nearing completion. The jarring planks on a bridge spanning one of the creeks had been replaced with smooth synthetic boards. I heard peepers near a wetland area. Vultures caught the wind and flew over trees that line the trail. Large planes on final approach flew low over the trail en route to Dulles. About one mile from Ashburn, a group of teens from a nearby middle school were standing on the trail oblivious to bike traffic approaching from both directions. They made desultory moves so bikers could pass. I started thinking about a snicker bar.

One mile ahead is Partlow's Store, a landmark of sorts from simpler times when the area was cropland and pasture, and the bike trail was the railroad line that took dairy products and produce from Loudoun County to DC. More recently, the land supported sod farms to make instant lawns during the building boom which began in earnest 25 years ago. Housing and shopping centers now sit on the sod farms. With a snicker on my mind, I parked my bike and clomped across the porch of the store. Closed. It's 4:30 in the afternoon! The sign says they will open at 10:30 tomorrow morning. So much for this community fixture where one used to get a cup of coffee or a sandwich, fishing tackle and live bait, and biking snacks (SNICKER BARS) from early morning until dark.

I took a long pull at my water bottle and headed back. Teens were still in the middle of the trail. Peepers were still making their spring sounds. A few more miles and I was back at the parkway. I headed south, crossed the intersections without a problem, and arrived home pleased with the ride. I enjoyed the crisp air, the small gestures that bikers make to each other as they pass - sometimes just a nod or a subtle raising of a hand from the bars - and the look of the sky as it darkens toward evening. Bike is back in the garage. Water bottle is in the sink. Dog is now by my side shedding a fresh supply of hair destined for the velcro straps of my bike shoes.

Saturday Kitchen

One of life's simple pleasures is getting up early on a Saturday, padding down the hallway, then entering a kitchen totally cleaned up from a particularly enjoyable Friday night dinner. I like cleaning my kitchen. I hit a mental button and view the instant replay of conversation, looks and glances. I remember as I stow the evening in the dishwasher. Here go the small dishes that held butter sauce for the steamed artichokes. Next are the plates used for salmon, rice, and spicy eggplant currie. Then a large round casserole dish that held the discarded artichoke leaves. Inscisor scrapings still visible. I'll swish out various pots and pans, clean the stove top, and toss away a few paper towels. Left over salad goes in the fridge. Then the wine glasses. I like the smaller ones brought home from a tasting at a Virginia winery. A good memory. Using them, we serve each other multiple times during the course of a meal. Dishes and glasses, pots and pans each become short-hand to the thread of conversation. I chuckle with some; get serious with others...accompanied by remaining music.

Ready for Spring

I was up early this morning so I could move ahead in a thick book for a while, glance at the paper, take care of Bass the dog, and maybe do a few office tasks I've been ignoring (i.e. "rat killing" as a good friend calls it). There was a light snow yesterday afternoon, followed by a very cold night. Slick patches formed on pathways and streets by morning, hence the plan to get the routine going early and be at the health club by 7:00 a.m. to do something that didn't involve running on ice.

This afternoon I wandered into my back yard to do routine pick-up (dog, you recall). I'm really ready for spring. I like getting my patio back in shape...planters, table umbrellas. Two varieties of sage are still alive out there, as are the chives and lavender in whiskey barrels. Clamatis is brittle and clinging to its trellis. Downstairs in the family room, I've been coaxing along a planter of last year's daisys - positioning it to take maximum advantage of a splash of afternoon sunlight that moves across the floor in front of the t.v. A hibiscus tree and a bougan villa are upstairs in the room adjacent to my office. Both have bloomed most of the winter thanks to hours of sunshine coming through a large southeast window. Not too much longer and these plants will be on the patio, too.

Beyond the confines of the patio, the birdbath is frozen solid. In one plant bed, the gazing ball is not yet surrounded by oregano, mint, horehound, and sedum. In another, the ornamental grass needs to be cut back before its dry leaves scatter all over the yard. The large flowering quince bush is covered with brown frozen blooms; a reminder of premature warm weather a few weeks ago. Spring will be sweet.

A Look Back to 1969 - Rural Malaysia

March 1969 Entry
My Peace Corp experience has really started. The past week old "Count Malaria" (according to Radio Malaysia) has been on the prowl in my village. One of my little next door neighbors was really sick this last week. I took him to the clinic on the back of my bicycle and had a blood test run on him. He had gone to the clinic 3 or 4 days earlier and at that time he was feverish, too. Well, I looked at the prescription he received and my ire was aroused when I discovered he had been given no blood test at the time and was sent home with aspirin and vitamin B complex--hardly the proper treatment for a suspected malaria case. I could be wrong but the man at the clinic doing diagnostic work may have a few misconceptions. For instance, this is a malaria area and all the kids that come to the clinic are not given blood tests for malaria. Only "suspected cases" are. The clinician also feels that the people who live here can tolerate malaria but people from the outside can't. This is bull. The leading killing disease here is malaria.

From work done by another volunteer near a major city to the south (a blood test survey) some old people hardly had any hemoglobin left (exaggeration) because of the abundance of malaria parasites. There are three cases 50 yards from my house. The sickest of the lot who I took to the clinic, is up and around and eating now, so he's made it. Now he must continue with the chloroquine for some time.

Preventive medicine programs are hard to put across because of some beliefs held by the majority of the people here. For instance, if you have eaten watermelon or papaya you can't take any medicine lest you become drunk. Papaya is a marvelous fruit for vitimin A and many people here won't touch papaya even if they have taken aspirin.

So, tomorrow is the last school day this week. Only 2 more weeks left, then glorious vacation. I have to go to Kuala Lumpur because I know I have some sort of nematode worm helping me digest my food. I also have to replenish my supply of malaria tabs.

I should have a fat check in April...$135 Malaysian dollars ($45 US) back rent I paid for out of my living allowance, plus $50 ($17US) more for next month's rent. Plus my $260M ($87US) living allowance...that's $445M ($148US). To this add 5 days of vacation pay which comes to $135M more ($95US). So the total is $580M ($193US).

Back from Boston

Things went smoothly on my trip. My flight left Dulles on time and I arrived 15 minutes early in Boston after a multi-impact landing. A company limo was waiting to drive me north to Bedford ("Bedfit"). The driver had the traffic report going on the radio and made a few detours near the airport to get to northbound 93. The report talked about a slowdown near Medford ("Meh-feh"). We passed the exit to Peabody ("Peebiddy") and after a couple of turns were on Burlington Road in Bedford where I settled in a familiar hotel. Turns out my driver was a retired engineer who worked 35 years for the company I was visiting. He talked about the workplace before computers -- the piles of paper, the clatter of typewriters. He was proud of his typing speed, which reached 75 wpm on a manual machine when he was in high school. He graduated in 1951.

I don't mind work travel. Different setting; a couple good meals; good support for my work. Things went well. The people watching in airports is entertaining. Yesterday's highlights included: a crowded gate area shared by Brazilians going to Sao Paulo and road warriors coming back to Dulles from Boston. The board said, "Washington/Sao Paulo" and the flight was packed. The desk agents were quite calm as they dealt with stand-bys, and multiple questions from Sao Paulo-bound passengers.

Just an observation...30-something computer types may be good in the digital world, but their aptitude for real-world spacial relationships is low. There's no way their ample carry-ons would come close to fitting in the overhead bins. However, I do give them high marks for determination after watching them rearrange the belongings of others and then try multiple times to stow their stuff. Get this...NONE of the road warriors was able to shut the overhead bin. ALL sat down nonetheless. ALL were asked to remove their stuff, walk it to the front of the crammed plane against the flow of boarding passengers, and check their bags. I made eye contact with another passenger who was also enjoying the show. We exchanged eye rolls and quiet smiles.