Hummingbird

B.B. King sang about his hummingbird- I've wondered if this was a code for something. Perhaps an innuendo of sorts. Regardless, that song is playing over and over in my head right now. I have been thinking about this hummingbird "incident" that happened over the weekend, looking for some spiritual or cosmic meaning behind what happened. I find it hard to believe that it was just what it looked like- a hummingbird searching the area for food or checking on a possible threat.
My family and I went to Wyalusing SP for a camping adventure this past weekend. It has been on my list of places to camp ever since I read about it in our Best Tent Camping in Wisconsin book. Perhaps I have also heard people talk about it as well. It is an amazing place! It is now one of our top favorite places in our great state. The confluence of the MIssissippi and Wisconsin Rivers is truly a marvel and given the recent flooding (and still flooded slough) it is a wonder that a city like Prairie du Chien can thrive there. We spotted bald eagles, a soaring flock of white pelicans, and countless small song birds. Our long hike took us along the ridge overlooking the rivers, down to the Mississippi Slough , up another ridge and back to the top where the campground lies. The submerged tree trunks and tips of grasses poking up out of the deep water were mind boggling. Are these species adapted to survive this kind of flooding? Have they lost their leaves early because of this or are they dying? What will the area look like over the coming weeks and months. Will the water recede before winter? Imagine frozen water creeping up the sides of these massive trees, hiding the ground or water ways below. Such mystery. All of these natural wonders and hardly any hummingbirds that I was told were witnessed by a fellow colleauge on her trip years ago. Apparently my husband saw several of these tiny winged beings out of the ranger station window while checking us in.
We were packing up our campsite on Sunday morning and all of a sudden Steve said, there's a hummingbird. Like a flipped switch we all stopped and watched it zooming over and around the shrubs. Then it zoomed towards Steve and stopped several feet away, hovering at eye level. A few seconds passed and then it shot to the right and paused eye-level in front of me. Another few seconds and it shot to the right again and paused in front of Emma. For those brief seconds I felt my mind and heart trying to connect to this bird. Whose soul was lingering there? Whose ghostly mirage was linked to the beating of those wings, seeking some answer to their unknown question. We are fine- we are great I wanted to say. But I also wanted to ask, who are you? We miss you!
Skeptics will surely say it was just a bird. But I don't know. I want it to have been my grandmother, just checking in to make sure we are okay. To let us know that she is okay.
Time could have stopped long enough for me to count the beats of the hummingbird's wings.

Rest in Peace

Bugga passed away on Saturday. We are cherishing the time that we got to spend with her on Wisconsin turf this summer and fall. So many good memories. And so much that reminded me of my own grandma. The girls were able to make some memories that I hope will resonate with them their whole lives. After she returned to California (Oct 9th) she was at her house. I don't think we called. She sent back 2 beautiful rosemaling painted wooden plates for the girls with Dad. I thought about calling and the timing was never right. So we didn't get to have one last chat. She didn't get to hear us say thank you for a little slice of Norwegian heritage. She sent Emma a birthday card with a wonderful note inside. I feel so guilty and heartwrenchingly sad that we did not make contact again before she passed. I hope she knows that she was always on our mind and we were always sending love across the miles. After she fell and was in the hospital I did message the daughter that was with her and asked her to pass along our good wishes. I also asked for her phone number so that we could call. We were told that she wasn't good on the phone but that we would be sent the number when she felt better. 1-2 days later she was gone and we never got the hospital number.
Later on Saturday after Dad with the awful news, we were talking as a family about what to have for brunch the next day. Steve tossed out egg cheese casserole to which I replied, yes! that would be a super fitting dish since it was Bugga's signature breakfast recipe. Our brunch turned into a celebration of life feast for Bugga. We made egg cheese casserole, pumpkin praline waffles, sliced strawberries and whipped cream, diced cantaloupe, bacon, and of course, orange juice. We invited Mom and Dad and Emma set up an ofrenda. We ate and shared some stories and just soaked up the fact that we all got to spend several months with Bugga before she left. The tears didn't set in until church Sunday morning. The gates were opened and I could barely keep it together. Then it all hit again today on the drive to work. It is so weird how grief works. Thoughts of both Bugga and Grandma were spinning around in my head. Some of the moments I shared earlier were in the forefront- Toots, canasta, etc.
I shared our egg cheese casserole idea with my "sisters" and hoped that they would find a way to celebrate Bugga's life. What they all have ended up doing (or committed to doing) is make egg cheese. Pictures have been shared and the iconic meal has been shared across the world. One sibling family (grandchildren of Bugs) is temporarily living in Germany and they had to take 3 buses to find Jack cheese, without which egg cheese would lose half it's deliciousness.
A google picture sharing has commenced with snapshots of Bugga through the years, with various combinations of family members. First great grandchild, additional babies, weddings, road trips and generations of Delwiche family members sharing happy moments with the matriarch.
So to Bugga I say, rest in peace. You have lived a full and happy life (for my part). We will miss you greatly. I hope that you and Grandma are able to share some memories and look down at us and smile. We love you!

Favorite Green Food

Here is a poem I just found in a notebook. I wrote this at a nature-based preschool conference. The session was about food and culture. We were asked to consider what memories are evoked by an herb or plant that we are connected to. I thought of basil. And my that my family loves pesto so we grow a lot of basil and freeze a lot of pesto.

O basil, you are bunched
shining in the sun
cut, smash, mix:
I smell pesto!

Toots (sounds like a shortened Tootsie roll beginning)

My grandma used to call me Toots. I loved that she had a special nickname for me. It was a source of pride that my grandma saw me good enough for a sweet nickname. It was one that only she used.
There really is something so magical about a grandma and a granddaughter. For the most part. My grandma on my dad's side did not quite see the same lovely things that my other grandma did. I think my own mother and her caustic ways sort of cast a grey shadow over me. And just the hurricane of the alcoholic household caused me to be a big brat sometimes. I know that kids can be mean but I was really good (in an awfully bad way) with head games.
For instance, there was a family that we were close to- or rather the adults were close and us kids played together off to the sides. This other family had 3 kids- one up on my brother and I. The oldest was a girl, 2-3 years older than me. The second child was also a girl, 1 year older than me. The youngest was a boy and I think he was a a year or two younger than my brother. (To keep getting off track, hear this. My brother and I are Irish twins. The little brat stole my first birthday thunder (and all subsequent birthday celebrations) by showing up 9 nine days before I got to eat my first birthday cake ever. I know it isn't really his fault, but boy did I blame him for everything. And if you spent any time in my family you could see why. My parents struggled with their issues that were compounded by the alcoholism. My dad favored me and I knew it and used it to my complete and shameless (at the time) advantage. My mother was a hot headed and fairly unstable person. In other words, we were not truly shown through example, how to love each other. We were pitted against each other in life- subtle ways to more obvious ones. My brother to this day cannot live without my parents; he is still trying to suck up all of their attention and hoping to be the only apple of their eye. I took a different route and have sought therapy, Al-Anon, and other avenues to move beyond the dysfunction. If you know and understand about alcoholic families, you know what I am talking about. 
So of course through all of this, my grandparents have different perceptions about what goes on at the Helwig household. My dad's parents lived closer so we saw them more often. And from the beginning that set of elders worried about my mom and her relationship with my dad. So I think they must have always seen us through these colored glasses. As a child these grandparents were my favorite because they lived on a farm, had an edgy sense of humor and were always around. As I grew up and after Grandpa Helwig died (and Grandma H moved to California), I started to realize that the other more prim, always fair, consistent and loving grandparents were better for me.
Grandma H fell out a little bit in my eyes, too, when we butted heads about the roles of girls versus boys in the running of a household. I was NOT going to clean up after my brother or wash his clothes. No way. Plus I sucked my thumb until way too late in life and she said some disparaging words about it to my aunt when she thought I was not listening.  In all fairness, I do wish that I could have gotten to know this grandma and had known her for longer. I think she could have helped me sort out my role in the alcoholic craziness in different ways. Plus it would have been great to get some of her perspective on how and when it all started to really go down hill.
But that is not how life went. Instead, Grandma Reinberger and I became super close. And this lovely lady called me Toots. She passed away over a year ago and I miss her so much. The funny thing about Grandma R is that she has always been consistent, fair and stable- unwavering in her commitment to our family. And the reason I am so shocked by this is not that she is my mom's mom. It is because she technically is not. See, my mother was adopted as a baby by Grandpa R and his wife. (It's awful that I cannot recall her name.) This woman died when my mother was 16 years old. That will leave a scar for sure. Anyway, Grandpa R did not wait very long to marry the only Grandma R my brother and I ever knew- Barbara Ann.
Grandma R was my mom's stepmom- another puzzle in the adoption puzzle. As kids we viewed this pretty black and white when we were told this story. It was shocking to us that she was technically out step-grandma who was also not technically related by blood to any of us or to any of Grandpa R's family. And Grandpa R had no blood relation to any of us either- even mom. And Uncle Mark was also adopted. It made the family tree so crazy and complicated.  It was shocking. But just as quickly as registering the shock, we were marveling in how we had no idea. They loved us as their own family. And especially Grandma R who apparently took a lot of crap from my mother, had not held any grudges or showed any signs that her start to the family was anything but easy and smooth. This lady was a saint!
And this same lady, saw so much goodness in me. She saw the crap in my mom and loved her anyway. Towards the end it increased her anxiety ten-fold and she didn't want to witness or be a part of any of my mother's ridiculous behaviors. However, she was still there in her best way. We never talked in great detail about my position but she didn't need to know. She understood and she let it be. She called me Toots and let me cook in her kitchen. She loved my girls and my hubby. She loved to spend time with us and enjoyed hearing my voice every time I called. She was my rock in this unsteady world.
And all of this came flooding back when I heard the name Toots just yesterday.
My family went to visit my husband's parents on their farm about 30 minutes from our house. They moved there from California 1 year ago and we cannot be happier. The only surviving great-grandparent for me or Steve is G-Bugga, and she has been on an extended farm visit since July. We were all gathered around the dining room table for a rousing game of Chicken Foot dominoes. Little A was also playing and getting a tad wound up. When it was her turn, G-Bugga turned to her and said, "It's your turn, Toots." I got all teary-eyed, looked first to Steve and then to mom, who both nodded in understanding, and back to G-Bugga. "My grandma used to call me Toots." G-Bugga smiled and we shared a moment. I have never heard her use that expression before and I felt as if Grandma R was there with us.
Just a couple weeks before we all were playing Canasta with Grandma R's deck of cards. Inside the box we also found a small piece of paper with card values and tips written in Grandma R's handwriting. G-Bugga commented on this and said that it was special to have played with those cards and to have used that cheat sheet.
It has been a pleasure to spend time with G-Bugga. It reminds me so much of all the time with spent with Grandma R. That generational bond is so amazing and so special. And I hope that Little A will one day think fondly of her days as Toots too. 

Zero Waste hype- part 2

I have moved past the complaining, I want attention stage. You could say I have matured over the last 10 hours or so of my life. sigh.
I am proud of what I do and my family does to wage the war against waste, consumerism, and our throw away society. I could have posted about these changes and decisions over the years, but I didn't. I have accepted that reality.
And therefore, I should accept the reality that I can do better. There are probably some great ideas out there that we have not tried. There are so many ways that we can do better to eliminate waste, to reduce our carbon foot print(s), to live more sustainably. Heck, even owning a computer (or 3) and plugging in to the grid screams as ways that go against being an advocate for the environment. The power, the materials and processes that went into making the machines, the lack of a true cradle to grave production system- all of these things are reasons to avoid owning and using (not to mention relying on) these electronic devices.
And yet here I sit, typing away.
So I am going to set some challenges for myself and my family. I am going to tap into my resources and talents to grow our sustainable and zero waste efforts. At this point I am brainstorming some ideas and will later finalize a list, make some deadlines and get my family to agree. I do love a good challenge!

Ideas on how to become even more green:
* make more cloth# produce bags
* make some in-fridge cloth# bags for keeping produce crisp
* make more cloth# sandwich bags or wraps
* make some cloth# bowl covers (beeswax or otherwise)
     #make sure the cloth is organic and not made in China (and any other potentially negative "side effects")
* find alternatives to products we use regularly (like dried cranberries and nuts) that do not come in plastic
**note: continue to harass/encourage/demand companies like Eileen's to switch from plastic to something better
* continue to harass/encourage/demand companies like Woodman's to stop using plastic bags
* eliminate craft projects from my place of work that use non-recyclable or other wasteful materials
* encourage my place of work to limit our craft materials to ones that are natural or at the very least recyclable or biodegradable
* research shoe companies that make more sustainable shoes- and when we need new shoes (really Need them) we purchase from them
* switch to goat's milk from my in-laws farm instead of buying cow's milk (in glass though) from the store
* go back to making our own yogurt (using goat's milk from the farm)
* figure out how to freeze things without using large plastic zip lock bags (yep- this is a path of complete and utter shame here. You have my permission to call me out on my early rant. And while I am at it, the next two are also causing me to hang my head and crawl under the nearest rock.)
* when our cars die, purchase the most fuel efficient model as possible- or go electric or go car-less
* make our own disinfectant wipes or spray

That's all I have for now. I am going to read through some of the blog postings and Pins I come across to fine tune my list.
What are you doing and what are some ways you can improve?

Zero waste hype

So my family and I have been striving for zero waste for many years. I can't remember the last time we bought paper towels. 10 years ago is not an unreasonable estimate.  We have been using reusable sandwich bags, snack bags and lunch bags for several years. And perhaps the best example I can think of is when my husband's family and I went to this amazing fabric outlet in MN, probably 8 years ago or so. We found this ultra slinky, light-weight, stretchy fabric that I promptly turned into produce bags. That's right. We use these for our vegetables and fruits that we buy from the store- when we do not have enough of those locally grown items from our CSA farm, Westridge Organic Produce. So I want some credit here! I am scrolling through Pinterest and up pops all of these pins for how to be zero waste and eliminate plastic usage. So doing that- and have been for a very long time!!
I am just kicking myself and being a whiny complainer because I have not written or posted or shared about this to anyone. We are relatively silent about our efforts to maintain our greenness. Damn- it's hard to be a trend setter when no one knows!

Plastics- my on-going challenge

I just contacted via online messaging, two plastic USA companies this morning urging them to stop plastic production and find alternatives. I also messaged Woodmans for the second time this year asking them to stop using plastic grocery bags. I don't expect responses but I do feel so much better for having made the effort. And I won't stop at this. I aim to continue to pester and bug and contact as many companies and related parties as possible until things change. In particular, I am going to "go after" plastic straw companies next.
On Saturday at a conference a couple friends and I ordered drinks from the barista. Plastic cups and lids of course contained the completely unnecessary fluids. I did not take or use a straw, however. And my friend said, you are such a good example. But she wanted her straw and used it anyway. sigh. I have also been not giving my kids straws when we go out or order food. And I consistently ask food-to-go places to keep all of their plastic utensils. We use paper straws at home.
The fight begins.