Heather Lende's blog

Taking Care of Cyclists and Eagles in the Eagle Preserve

My husband Chip and I cycled out to the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve  parking lot, and on the way back my rear wheel popped a spoke. It just went "ping" and I wobbled to a stop. Chip, being ever chivalrous (and just like me) saw no reason to cut short his ride, so he suggested I hitchhike the 17 miles home. (Walking in my cleated bike shoes is slow going.) So I waved goodbye and waited. There wasn't a whole lot of traffic. Like none.  After about ten minutes one small car zipped past, which wouldn't do, and then about five minutes later there was an old mini-van.

The News From Pearl's Beach

 Every morning I listen to the news on the radio and scan the Internet papers to find out what's going in the world. Pearl gets the first news of her day from the sights, sounds, and smells of our morning walk. (Part of it, I suspect, is Pearl's aristocratic pedigree, her father was English, so she thinks she is the Duchess of the Chilkat and responsible for the well-being of her people, animals, and land.) Well, it has been a news-filled weekend.

Sunday's Thought from Anne Lamott

 "You are going to have to give and give and give, or there's no reason for you to be writing. [ Or living well, for that matter .] You have to give from the deepest part of yourself, and you are going to have to go on giving, and giving is going to have to be its own reward."- Anne Lamott from Bird by Bird.

Friday's With Caroline

I get to spend all day every Friday with Caroline (2 in January) and now Pearl (5 months) and I thought you might like to hang out with us at the beach for a few minutes. So here's a postcard from yesterday morning. First we blew bubbles ( Pearl chased them) then when we used them all up we made  a sandbox and played in it. Let me just say right now that it was a very busy and highly productive morning for all of us.

Signs of Spring

This morning as we pedaled by Doug walking to work, Chip said, "There's a nice little cinnamon near Brouillette's." Doug heard that through his iPod headphones and snapped to attention and smiled, "Sweet." They were not talking about the aroma of breakfast rolls from the Brouillette's roadside house. They meant a cinnamon colored black bear. A fat, healthy and, I thought, big,  black bear, but then when you surprise one rooting around in the skunk cabbage they all look huge, don't they?

Finding the Good

So, I have spent the morning, well most of it, organizing my notes for the new book, which is called Finding the Good (for now anyway) and will be published by Algonquin as soon as I finish it. My wonderful editor has decided to help me by making a couple of deadlines, July 1 for part of it and September 1 for all of it. That means I will be working this summer, a lot. (Well, writing is not exactly like the other summer work around here.

Made for Goodness

The title of a library book that I learned was overdue while I was traveling, thanks to the library's automated notification system, is Made For Goodness. I could not for the life of me recall reading it or checking it out, and thought I had returned all my books, which were mostly about puppy training, before I left for Florida. The email notification did not list the author, just the title. I spent the morning checking shelves and bags, looking for a book with a Golden Retriever on the cover, or at least a dog of some kind, but with no luck.

Not Thinking Much This Sunday

I have been traveling in the land of very limited Internet access (it still exists deep in the swamps and plains of central Florida) and got back in time to make a cake for the Hospice bake sale (which Chip promptly bought so the family could eat it) and to babysit (Caroline slept over last night so Brian and Sarah could have a date night and sleep in before the new baby, also a girl, arrives insuring sleepless nights for the rest of their lives.) I'll check in longer tomorrow, but for now here is the newest

Florida Lessons

Here are a few things I learned at the 25th annual Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Society Conference:  The farther north you go in Florida the more southern you are. The proper way to introduce my mother-in-law, Grandma Joanne, who winters here in Ocala, is "My husband's mother." (A sharp-eyed tiny white-haired lady told me this.

Heading South

I am off to Florida, to visit Grandma Joanne and attend the Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Society conference in Ocala.



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