The Idaho Legislature Has Left the Building

Today, for the first time in 3 months, I did not go downtown to the state Capitol for our weekly prayer vigil.  For 11 weeks in a row the Interfaith Equality Coalition stood in silent prayer outside the statehouse in support of equality for gay and transgender people.  This is the third year that we have held our prayer vigils.  We are part of the Add the Words movement which has been trying to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to the Idaho Human Rights Act for over 10 years.

I would like to say that we are done but unfortunately the Idaho State Legislature went home this past Friday without doing a thing to protect LGBT people.  Two Democratic senators introduced a personal Add the Words bill but Republican leadership never allowed it to move forward.  The public saw a quiet year compared to the last 2 years.  This year there were no protests and no arrests.  There was a rally at the beginning of the legislative session.  Our coalition members publicly prayed.  One week we sat quietly in the Senate gallery and the next week we sat in the House gallery.  Clergy wore stoles, robes, and collars while the rest of us wore rainbow colors.  Behind the scenes individuals lobbied the legislators.  Lawmakers had discussions to supposedly find a “compromise.”  In the end they claimed they couldn’t find the right words.  But we gave them four words.

This has been a disappointing legislative session.  More than disappointing—infuriating would be a better word.  Add the Words was not the only issue that didn’t go anywhere.  There was a huge push to expand Medicaid to cover the 78,000 Idahoans who have no health coverage.  They ended up doing nothing, despite the fact that more people will die.  They refused to protect children from faith healing parents who allow their children to die from treatable illnesses.  However they made lots of statements about being pro-life and anti-abortion so they passed bad bills that interfere with women’s reproductive health.  Once again a lawmaker made an inane statement about women not getting pregnant after the trauma of rape—this got us more unwanted national attention.  These pro-life legislators also passed permitless concealed carry for cities against the wishes of local law enforcement.  They not only refused to raise Idaho’s minimum wage but actually passed a bill to prevent cities from doing it (and these are the same people who scream about the federal government interfering with state control).  I could go on. . .

Idaho is at the bottom of almost everything in the United States.  People are struggling here but our lawmakers don’t seem to care.  It’s all about ideology and religion.  The Idaho Legislature is about 80% Republican.  It is also 80% Mormon and predominantly white men.  Votes are often made along party lines.  Decisions are made in Republican meetings behind closed doors.  Many of these legislators are old men who seem to be clueless about the world outside their own little piece of Idaho and they are especially clueless about women’s anatomy (which has become painfully clear during hearings).  One is showing signs of senility—but he’ll probably be reelected.

Why are these people reelected?  Why do people blindly vote “R” against their own interests?  Ignorance?  (Schools are constantly underfunded.)  This is an election year for all of our legislators.  It’s clear that changes need to be made.  We need a legislature that listens to citizens and cares about all of the people in the state, not just the ones who are like them.

This was a frustrating year but we are not giving up.  Many people will be fighting for justice and for the welfare of all people.  My coalition will be back at the Capitol to greet legislators next year and to ask them to Add the Words.  We will be visible to the members of the public who drive or walk by and often show their support.  Most importantly, we will be there to show our gay and transgender brothers and sisters that we care and that we believe God loves all.

My First Caucus

In 2008 I tried to caucus for my candidate.  It didn’t go well.  My husband and I stood in a very long line that wound around the block.  We stood in this line for 2 hours on a very cold evening.  We never got in.  Ballots were handed out and we looked for a flat surface on which to write.  We tossed our ballots into a box, uncertain if they would be counted.

Now it’s 2016 and the Democrats began advertising their caucus weeks ago.  This time we could get tickets online so things would be better.  We did this.  I was still skeptical.  A friend who was volunteering at the caucus assured me there would be a “fast lane” for people with tickets.  Okay!

The doors were supposed to close at 7 p.m. and the caucus would begin.  The suggested arrival time was 6 p.m. and then was changed to 5 p.m.  We arrived downtown just after 5 p.m. and drove by the venue—there were long lines going in all directions.  Oh boy.  Where to park?  As we pulled up to the nearest parking garage, an attendant put out a “full” sign.  Dang!  We drove for blocks and finally found a spot.  As we hurriedly walked towards our destination, a cold wind hit us from behind.

I quizzed a couple people in line and learned that both ticketed and unticketed people were there.  I dragged my husband up to the front so I could determine which line was the fast lane.  I saw someone I know, one of the people in charge, so I asked her my question.  There was no fast lane—everyone was mixed together (but the tickets did help them realize that they needed two buildings).  My heart sank.  I told her that we hadn’t gotten into the caucus in 2008.  She looked stricken and said not to tell her that because she was in charge.  She then promised to get us in.  Soon we filled out ballots and walked into a nearly empty arena. We were directed to the Hillary side where we were handed stickers and signs.

We quickly found seats and settled in for the night.  There was a screen in front of us showing both Hillary and Bernie videos along with local people talking about what the Democratic Party stands for.  We watched people very slowly filter in.  I thought of all those people standing out in the cold and momentarily felt a bit guilty about my luck—but I realized that would not have been able to stand out in the cold very long.  Soon I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me.

I passed the time watching the screen which now also had the addition of tweets about the caucus.  Periodically I retrieved the second ballot, hat, and gloves of the woman behind me who kept dropping them.  We laughed over it.  I checked Facebook on my smart phone and posted where I was.  Soon I got a text from a friend who asked me where I was seated.  She found us and claimed a seat next to us.

When 7 p.m. rolled around, the emcee came on the screen and explained that we would wait to start so the people in the lines could get in.  I was seeing descriptions on Facebook that the lines were going for 15 blocks or more.  The hockey stadium where we were was only one location.  Next door there were more people.  As people walked in, the Bernie side began to fill up and then overflow with mostly young people.  They approached the caucus like a football game—cheers, stomping, and even the wave.  A guy sitting below us tried to lead the Hillary side in cheers.  We were rather pitiful by comparison—not an energetic group.  As the Bernie crowd got larger and louder, some of the Hillary organizers came out with bullhorns to lead us in cheers.  It was. ..better.

We finally started at 9 p.m. with bagpipes and the national anthem. . . and then we waited for them to do it in the other venue.  Around 9:20 p.m. we heard the speeches by local people for each candidate; the mayor of Boise spoke for Hillary Clinton.  There was talk about uniting in November and voting down the ballot, not just for president.

And then we waited.  The rows were tight and it was difficult to get out.  At one point everyone was asked to sit because the people milling about in the walkway were breaking fire code.  We waited some more.  Everybody was told to take selfies to post.  When it was explained that we didn’t have to submit another ballot unless we wanted to change our vote or if we wanted to vote for delegates, people began to leave.

Around 10:15 p.m. we were told there was no estimate of when the count of the first ballots would be completed.  More people left.  We walked out about 10:30 p.m.  We had been there 5 hours and all we had done was submit a ballot when we arrived.

So this was my first caucus experience.  It was not how I envisioned it.  We were told that we had the largest caucus in U.S. history.  This was not a good thing.  So many people were disenfranchised.  Not many people have the time and stamina to go through this process.  It left out the elderly, disabled, sick, many working people, military, people with young children, and more.  They didn’t come at all.  Others came and left after standing in line for hours.  The cold got to many while young children were tired, hungry, or needed bathrooms.  The people who could handle the conditions the best were young—and most of them came out for Bernie.  It definitely affected the voting.

People started posting on social media that they want a primary next time.  By this morning the executive director of the party said she had hundreds of angry emails and that they are talking about a primary in 2020.  Thank goodness.

The upside to this messy caucus?  We live in a very red state.  It was amazing to see so many Democrats out for our county caucus—9,100+ ballots were cast (and many more left before voting).  The young Bernie supporters were excited.  I hope they will stick around even if their candidate isn’t the nominee.  We need a more balanced state legislature.  Our lawmakers are preparing to go home after skipping over the important issues that affect people’s lives and instead spent time on bad bills, some of which are unconstitutional and will cost us more money defending them.  We need these young voters even after they no longer “feel the bern!”

A Day to Recharge

Busy days and nights

Day after day after day

Constantly going

Communicating

What will lawmakers do next?

More organizing

Prayer vigils, protests

Meetings, trainings, and hearings

Working for justice

Cold, rain, and pollen

Arthritis and allergies

Slow the body down

Quiet Saturday

A day of rest is needed

For body and soul

Sunshine so welcome

Ignites my writing and art

Rumi’s poems inspire

Candlelight dinner

Music, wine, and chocolate 

Day ends with hot tub

An Outdoor Experience

(In my journaling class we were instructed to go outside and listen, feel, touch, smell, capturing it with words.  Why does the outdoors matter?  Here is my response.)

I’m sitting out on the deck.  It’s a bit chilly but it’s reviving my senses.  In the distance I hear geese squawking and then I hear them pass overhead.  Over on the lawn towards the road I see three geese resting.  A mourning dove coos above me.  It is mostly sunny but the end of the day is drawing nearer.  I hear a neighbor moving something on wheels.  Birds chirp.  A dog barks and a child cries out.  Below me on the lawn I see all the brown leaves that weren’t raked up in the fall. 

I get up and walk around, touching the rough bark on the maple tree next to our deck.  I look out over the still stream.  It’s quiet there—no birds disturb the tall, brown reeds.  The sun shines off the water and I see the reflection of the trees above.  I can’t smell a thing, perhaps because I’m recovering from a cold.  The warm sun feels delightful on my face.

Being outdoors matters because it gives us a chance to reconnect with the essence of who we are.  We are part of nature and we are reminded of that.  An outdoor moment is a time to put everything else in the world aside and reflect, to turn inward.

Written 2/24/2016

It’s Simple

Everywhere I turn I see divisiveness in this country—newsletters, radio, TV, the Internet, Facebook, and more.  It can even be seen in churches.  The negativity, vitriol, and outright hate wear me down.  I am beginning to lose hope for our country.  People are feeling hopeless and looking for change.  They are angry.  Demagogues take advantage of this and fan the flames of hate.  It is all so ugly.  We become suspicious of those who are different from us; they are seen as a threat.  Build a wall!  Ban Muslims! Religious freedom (to discriminate)!

What would Jesus do?  I pull out my Bible.  Love one another.  That seems so simple.  Why is it so hard for us?  We live in a complex world.  God is a mystery, but the one thing I know about God, what I’ve been told since I was a child—God is love.  God loves all of us and we are called to love each other.  Love.  It’s simple.  Really.  Just open your heart.

Written on 2/23/2016

Rebinding

During one of our breaks during my Journaling class, we went down the hall and walked through an exhibit called "Al~Mutanabbi Street Starts Here.”  This is an exhibition of artists' books, broadsides, prints and poetry created in honor of Baghdad's beloved district of booksellers, publishers and literary cafes, which was devastated by a car bombing in 2007. We were told to jot down what struck us, to use as writing prompts later.  Here is what I wrote when we returned to our classroom.

I like the image of rebinding.  The image of all those books and lives destroyed in one violent moment is stuck in my mind.  What can be salvaged?  What is worth the effort?  “Whatever has come apart can be reassembled, healed.”  Is that true of everything?  It is a statement of hope.  Without it we only have despair.  What’s involved in rebinding?  Does a life torn apart come back together?  It seems that the “book” of a life torn apart might come back together with pages reassembled in a different order.  Perhaps tape or glue will be needed.  Maybe new pages will appear.  I see a new cover, maybe with flowers and lots of color.  It becomes a new book, ready to open.

Written on 2/18/2016

Mysteries of Life

(This past month I took a journaling class.  While most journaling is private, I am sharing one piece here.)

On the Threshold of a Dream. . . Ah. . . The Moody Blues.  I’m sitting on the couch sipping Good Earth tea and listening to an old record album.  “We decide which is right and which is an illusion.”  This delights me as much as it did when I was in my early twenties—40 years ago!  Music can take you back in time.  This does not so much bring back memories of life in the dorms but feelings—feelings of exploration and wondering about the mysteries of life.  I’m still doing that. . . but it’s different.  I was at the beginning of my adult life, tasting freedom for the first time.  Now I’m a mature woman.  What’s changed?  Did I believe that I would have a lot of the mysteries of life figured out by now?  I don’t remember.  I know at this point that they will remain mysteries.  And that’s okay.  That doesn’t stop me from asking questions and speculating about what the answers might be.

Written on 2/5/2016

A Boise New Year’s Eve

It’s New Year’s Eve

Once again I sit at home

With husband and pets

Now Boise awaits

A big potato to drop

A crowd gathers there

Twelve degrees outside

But with a wind chill of one

I’m quite warm at home

The TV is on

Chips, crackers, salsa, and cheese

Spread out to be munched

Soon the ball will drop

We’ll toast and sip our champagne

Happy New Year All!

What Is Happening to Our Country?

I see the news from San Bernardino and the tears come. My reaction surprises me because this is happening almost daily now yet I do not want to become numb to this horror. It must never be considered normal. I think of my beautiful new grandson and wonder what sort of world he will live in--it frightens me. I know so many loving, caring, good people but I fear we are becoming outnumbered by ignorant, fearful, angry, hateful people. I am shocked as I watch our politicians' behavior and see their high poll numbers and see them re-elected to office. This country seems to run on fear and greed. Can we turn it around? I just don't know. Not feeling very hopeful today.

Inversion

An icy gray shroud

Envelopes us, smothers us

Air never moving

Snow from the last storm

Not melting has turned to ice

Think I’ll stay in bed

Finding Blessings in Unusual Places

As I prepared our Thanksgiving meal yesterday, I thought about the blessings in my life.  I read what others said they are thankful for in their posts on Facebook.  Most were what you would expect.

I do have a lot to be thankful for this year.  I am delighted to have a beautiful new grandchild, my first one.  I am thankful for family, friends, my home, food, clothing, my church, and so many other things.  I have so much for which I am grateful.

However, it has occurred to me that I have other not so obvious blessings.  Recently, while standing on our Statehouse steps at a rally in support of refugees, I felt strangely thankful that I needed to be there.  I live in an extremely conservative state with many legislators who live in the past.  They have no concept of human rights, among other things.  It is extremely frustrating at times.  I look at my friends who live in more progressive states and realize that many of them have no idea what it is like to live in a state like Idaho.  They take many of their rights for granted.

I am thankful that I have been challenged to take a stand on important issues.  I have had to examine my faith and my views on social issues and make decisions about what I should do.  I have sat in legislative hearings, recruiting others to come and testify.  I have joined others on the Capitol steps for rallies, stood in silent prayer with other people of faith, and I have even been arrested.  I have become a stronger person as a result.  I have met incredible people, a diverse bunch of brave, passionate individuals.  While we’ve experienced a lot of disappointment, I feel blessed by my experiences and relationships.  I am thankful that our ignorant and backwards state government has compelled me to stand up for justice.  I am thankful for a God who nudges me in the right direction.  I know I will also learn perseverance because I will not give up.

In Solidarity with the World

Yesterday, after the multiple terrorist attacks in Paris, I began to see French flags pop up all over Facebook, especially the ones that go over profile pictures.  Facebook was promoting them.  Somehow they rubbed me the wrong way.  I knew that my friends were expressing genuine sympathy for the people of Paris.  However, I couldn’t do it myself.  I did share a post from my church about prayers for Paris but I left it at that.

Gradually I began to understand what I was feeling.  Other people have stated it quite eloquently.  Paris was not the only place in the world to be touched by terrorist attacks yesterday.  Both Beirut and Baghdad experienced suicide bombings.  On top of that, Japan and Mexico were hit by earthquakes.  To focus on Paris did not feel right.  My heart aches for all of them.

The violence in our world seems to be increasing at an alarming rate.  Hate separates us, destroys us.  People are even blaming Muslim refugees for the terrorist attacks, a bizarre accusation since it is these extremists that the refugees are fleeing.

It is the whole world, the entire human race that needs prayer.  I have shared graphics on Facebook that reflect this.  Can we come together and support each other?  Not just the people who are like us but everybody?  I believe in a God who loves all.  Is it possible for God’s children to get along, to stop fighting, to stop killing each other?  My prayer is for peace and love for all people.  I stand in solidarity with my sisters and brothers everywhere.

A New Grandchild

Almost 7 weeks ago my older daughter gave birth to a nearly perfect little baby boy.  He took everybody by surprise; he arrived 3 weeks early, quickly, and by C-section (he was breech).  He was greeted with great joy by parents who weren’t sure that they would be able to have children.

Four days ago we met our grandson, our first grandchild, for the very first time.  He lives across the country from us and I could hardly wait to hold him.  We arrived late at night so I had to wait until the next morning to see him.

It’s difficult to describe my feelings as I watch my daughter with her new son.  Memories of my first days with her as an infant have come back to me.  I recall rocking her and nursing her.  She has shared how much she loves this child, this child she feared she would never have.  I listen to her talk softly to her baby and gently comfort him.  My daughter is a good mother.

Holding this precious little boy is a special time.  Whether he is sleeping, sucking vigorously on his pacifier or crying loudly as I walk him, it is all wonderful.  The very best times have been when he looks back at me and stares into my eyes for a moment.

All too soon we will be leaving and I know it will be really hard.  We will be planning our next visit for spring and doing lots of Facetime in between.

A Lovely Fall Day

The weather has been unseasonably warm for this time of year.  However, as I sit on my deck and the sun sinks lower on the horizon, I feel the distinct chill of the fall night air.  My vegetable garden is still producing but it’s beginning to wind down.  The leaves on the trees are just beginning to change color.  The roses have put out one last burst of color before the frost arrives.  Squirrels scurry through the yard.

I have mixed feelings at this time of year.  The days are often beautiful with warm daytime temperatures.  The cooler days allow for more outside activities.  However, summer is my favorite season and I begin to mourn its passing.  I am not a fan of winter with its ice and cold.

Fall is my reminder to enjoy each day to its fullest, to soak in the warmth, and to look around at the beauty that surrounds me.  I take a deep breath, inhaling the aromas of the season.  What a lovely day.

To Simply Be

The lake is still

No wind disturbs its surface

The reflection of the mountains beyond

Forms patterns of color

That appear to descend to its depths

Dragonflies dart and dance

Their iridescent wings shining in the light

Flies buzz around, never stopping

Voices drift across the lake

Squirrels chatter from high in the trees

And falling pine cones hit the ground

I hear a jet pass far above me

But I am removed from that world

At this moment I am at peace

Content to be at one with my surroundings

And finding joy in simply being

Written on 8/25/15

A Retreat from the Smoke

The state of Idaho has been hit by numerous fires.  It is hard to escape the smoke.  A few days ago we had 2 days of a red alert—it was unhealthy for anyone to be outside.  My eyes burned.  I coughed.  I had headaches and when I walked outside my chest tightened.  It was difficult to breathe.

My husband and I had planned to go camping but the question was where to go.  Could we escape the smoke?  Should we just stay home—inside with the AC running?

I was busy with an event I’m working on so it became Bob’s job to find the spot.  He decided that Trinity Lakes would be the perfect spot because they are at a high elevation and only 2-3 hours from our house.  Bob even called the ranger district to make sure the campground was open.

We loaded up the car and left late afternoon.  We took the freeway to Mountain Home and then drove up Highway 20, turning left onto Anderson Ranch Rd.  Soon we hit a dirt road which wound around the reservoir.  It was a narrow but decent road and gave us great views.  After a while we turned onto Falls Creek Rd.  There was a sign saying the road was not recommended for passenger cars.  People need to take that sign seriously.  Bob was driving our 1997 Rav; it’s not 4 wheel drive but does have a high clearance.  It does not have heavy duty tires.

The road was quite bumpy but Bob is a retired geologist and used to driving on back roads.  It was slow going.  No other cars passed us.  And then it began to really go up.  This is where it became more goat trail than road.  I think I could have walked faster.  At one point Bob had to stop the car and get out to move some rocks.  He had difficulty getting the car to move again—this was where I was grateful for his experience.  As we slowly bumped up the mountain my mind went to what we would do if we got stuck or blew out a tire.  There was no cell service and nobody around.  Luckily we made it to Trinity Lakes.  Bob wanted to stay at Big Trinity Lake Campground so we headed in that direction.

We were lucky to find a great campsite next to the lake—it even had a big supply of wood.  Only one other campsite was being used near us.  The sun was close to setting so we hurriedly set up the tent and I made a sloppy joe dinner.  Bob pumped up the air bed and started the fire. 

We noted that the air was definitely clearer but that our campfire was putting out a lot of smoke that blew directly on our table.  After eating our s’mores (of course), we crawled into our sleeping bags and were able to gaze at the stars above us through the netting at the top of the tent.  Confident that we’d have no rain overnight, we left the rain fly off.  I’m so glad we did—it was beautiful.

Late this morning we took a hike on a trail that begins just across the road from our campsite.  It got steep quickly so we took frequent stops to catch our breath.  We’re not used to breathing at 8,000 feet.  What we did notice was how clean the air is here.  I can take deep breaths without choking or coughing.  Unfortunately, there are many burned trees here from a fire a couple of years ago.  As we climbed we also noticed how dry everything is—some bushes had already died.  This seems unusual for late August.  In spite of this we did see a number of wild flowers, most of which were past their prime but still pretty.  The trail continued to climb and got steeper.  The trail was rocky in places and the soil unstable; we had to step carefully.  When we turned around we got a great view of the area and noted that we are just above the smoke.

We continued to climb and it got even steeper.  I nearly slipped a couple of times but managed to keep my balance.  Once we reached the ridge we got a view of Trinity Mountain and its lookout tower to our right (10,000 feet).  Below us lay Green Island Lake.  That was intended to be our destination.  However, Bob declared he was not hiking all the way down and back up again.  He had a point.  It was steep.

Once we returned to our campground it was time for lunch and relaxation.  It is so quiet here—just the sounds of the wind, and the various critters that are sharing their home with us.  (We’ve already had a squirrel in our car.)

Tomorrow we will be heading for home by midday.  However, we will NOT be returning by the same route.  Bob had told me that there was another route but it was longer.  I should have been suspicious; Bob is known for his shortcuts.  What he didn’t tell me was that the other route was the recommended one.  Of course it was.  I’m sure it’s faster.

I hate to leave our little retreat so soon but there are things to do at home.  It is good to get away, even for a couple of days, and especially when it allows you to breathe easier.

Written on 8/24/2015

Remembering Kozmo

It was 2 years ago today that our sweet dog, Kozmo, took his last breath.  We lost him so quickly; he was gone just 10 days after the vet told us he had an inoperable tumor on his liver.  It was a tough time for us and it wasn’t until this past June that we adopted another dog.

Kozmo was a rescue dog.  Like all our pets, he came from the Idaho Humane Society.  He was 2 years old when we adopted him.  Apparently in his previous home he spent a lot of time on the couch.  When he first arrived we would reprimand him when he jumped onto our couch.  (Our previous dog, Frisbee, was not allowed on it.)  When scolded for this he looked confused and upset.  He couldn’t understand what was wrong.  After a while we gave up and allowed him on the couch.

Although he came with a name, he didn’t seem to know it so our daughters renamed him Kozmo.  He was pure white with big brown eyes and the cutest little white eyelashes.  The information we received said that he was American Eskimo and his coloring definitely indicated that.  His coat was short like a lab—and he definitely shed like one.

Kozmo love to go for walks.  He picked up on the cues quickly.  If my husband put on his shoes and grabbed his hat, Kozmo would go crazy.  He tended to walk with his head looking up, but would stop to smell interesting things.  Kozmo had an aversion to water.  He would walk out in the street to avoid a sprinkler that was hitting the sidewalk.  When we stopped at the river he would drink but not step in.  When other dogs passed by we would have to pull him in because we never knew if he’d dislike the dog and be aggressive.

Kozmo was a squirrel dog.  He would want to chase after them while on a walk.  In our yard he would chase them up trees and just sit and watch.  One time we left him in the unfenced area of the yard because we knew he would stay and watch the squirrel—he must have sat there 1-2 hours until we called him in.

Kozmo wanted to be a good dog.  If we yelled at our other dog, Piper, he would worry that we were mad at him.  You could see it in his face.  He loved to walk out with us to get the paper in the morning.  Most of the time he would stay right with us.  If he started to wander too far off, I’d call him back.  Sometimes, I’d take him in the car with me if I wasn’t getting out for long.  I would tell him we were going in the car and he understood—that’s where he would go.  He was smart.  He did have moments where he was disobedient.  If he walked down the street and got too far away, he would pretend he couldn’t hear us.  However we knew otherwise because he’d have one ear pointed back. 

I really miss the dog choruses.  Kozmo was a howler.  The howling was usually brought on by sirens.  Piper would join in by barking and they would have a sort of rhythm going, like a song.  How I wish I could hear that again.

Kozmo is buried out in our yard along with another dog, Frisbee, and our cats, Mandy, Pixi, and Bandit.  Thinking about him now may still bring tears but mostly I smile at the memories.  What a great dog he was!

Written on 8/10/2015

 

 
 

 

The Drive up North

Yesterday, as we began our long day’s drive from Boise to northern Idaho, I was reminded of the diversity of the state I call home.  Boise has a desert climate; we only get about 12 inches of rain a year.  Sagebrush dots the grass-covered foothills.  We live near the Boise River and a stream runs through our yard.  Our mini-climate is riparian.  We have tules (reeds) and lots of water birds.

Leaving Boise we climb up Highway 55 past golden hills and sagebrush.  We begin to drop down to a river valley and soon cross the horseshoe-like bend in the Payette River, passing through the small town of Horseshoe Bend.  As we continue to climb, pine trees appear and the sagebrush is gone.  We can view the river on our left.  It is a favorite place for rafters and kayakers; this is one of the calmer sections.  Once we pass Banks, the canyon narrows and the churning Payette River begins to look like a washing machine.  These are class 5 rapids so it is rare to see any kayakers here.

We pass the open, quiet waters of Smiths Ferry.  It is always so green here in the summer.  Once we leave this area behind, the road narrows and lies dangerously close to the fast moving river.  This part always makes me nervous.  Before long the landscape opens up and we enter a wide valley.  Golden fields lay on either side of the highway.  On the left we pass a small airport.  We drive by a small cabin that is falling down; we always wonder how long it will still be around.

Soon we reach the town of Cascade.  It was once a lumbertown but the mill closed a number of years ago.  The old rail lines are now used for scenic rides on the Thunder Mountain Railway.  We cross the river and spot children playing in the water near an RV park.  Next we pass the Cascade Reservoir.  The road begins to climb and evergreens line the way.  We pass through two more small towns and then the road levels out.  We enter McCall, a resort town on the shores of Payette Lake.  We stop for lunch at a little burger joint—hamburger and a shake for me.  McCall is always a good place to stretch our legs.  Sometimes we stop at Ice Cream Alley for an ice cream cone.  Other times we stop at one of the small public beaches to use the facilities, look at the lake, and perhaps make lunch.

Upon leaving McCall the highway descends downward through heavily wooded forest.  We reach New Meadows (after passing Meadows), aptly named because it describes the terrain.  Gradually we see more trees and the walls of the mountains close in and we are in a steep canyon and the town of Riggins.  The streets are only a couple blocks deep on the left side while the Salmon River runs close by on the right.  Rafting is big in this town so we see ads for the many commercial outfitters ready to take people on an adventure.

Not too far out of Riggins we begin to go up a very steep incline known as White Bird Hill.  There is an overlook near the top.  It marks the location of the Battle of White Bird Canyon which was the first battle of the Nez Perce War; the Army lost.  White Bird was the Nez Perce chief.

From the summit of White Bird we descend to the Camas Prairie.  The most striking feature here is the fields of winter wheat (no irrigation).  Most of the fields have already been harvested but we did see a combine at work.  We pass through Cottonwood, the location of St. Gertrude’s Monastery, the home of Benedictine nuns.  A short distance later we enter the Nez Perce reservation begin to drop off the Camas Prairie.  We come close to Lewiston, Idaho’s port city (no kidding—on the Snake River) but the highway turns before entering it.  When the wind is blowing the right way you can smell the paper mill there. (Perhaps I should say wrong way since it stinks.)   Next we are making a steep climb up to the Palouse—rolling hills with more wheat fields. 

Leaving the Palouse, we enter the college town of Moscow, home to the University of Idaho.  It is also the commercial and agricultural hub of the Palouse region.  (Locals call it “Mosco”—don’t add the w because residents don’t want to be associated with that other Moscow.)  From Moscow it’s only about 30 miles to Coeur d’Alene. 

Continuing on we pass an operating lumbermill and enter the town Plummer.  Here is the beginning of the Trail of the Coeur d’Alenes, a wonderful 72-mile paved bike path.  We pass through the Palouse Indian reservation and more wheat fields.  The road runs by rolling hills with a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees.  As we get closer we get glimpses of Lake Coeur d’Alene but we don’t get a really good look at it until we cross the river and pull into town.  It’s a beautiful lake with many inlets.  The tall Coeur d’Alene Resort is a prominent fixture on the edge of the lake.  The town has an interesting history going back to early tribes and fur traders.

We are staying in Coeur d’Alene this time but we have been north to the border.  It is well worth the drive.  Farragut State Park sits next to Lake Pend Oreille.  It was once a naval base for testing submarines during World War II.  Yes, submarines—it’s a very deep lake.  Further north is the little city of Sandpoint, also on this lake.  It has a large artistic community with fun shops and a lovely city beach.  It was the home of the women’s clothing company, Coldwater Creek.  Their store was once on the Sand Creek Bridge—I always insisted that we stop there when passing through Sandpoint.

Heading north you will pass through the small town of Priest River, named for the river that runs through it.  Priest Lake is north from there.  It is a heavily wooded area, much like the terrain directly north in Canada.  This area was the location of silent movies made by Nell Shipman and company in the 1920s.  It’s a beautiful spot with lots of wildlife, including moose.  Federal and state campgrounds provide many great campsites.

I’ve described just a part of the Idaho geography.  I live in an interesting state—it is so much more than potato fields.

Written on 8/7/2015

Sitting on the Beach

Slowly the boats leave

Pink and blue color the sky

Waves pound, the only sound

Crickets chirp their song

Darkness falls over the lake

Air cools the warm sand

Written on 8/7/2015

Long-time Love

About a week ago, my husband and I made a long day’s drive to see my parents.  They are in their late eighties and I hadn’t seen them in over a year.  Mostly we talked and ate.  While we were there, we celebrated our 35^th wedding anniversary.  My mom made reservations for the patio of a local restaurant and all my siblings plus a cousin joined us.  We had a delightful time visiting.  For dessert we celebrated with a delicious strawberry cheese pie.  My mom reminded us that they had just celebrated their 65^th wedding anniversary.

Sixty-five years is a long time.  I began thinking about it on our long drive home.  From our car CD player, we heard the lovely song, “Longer” by Dan Fogelberg, a song that was sung at our wedding.  I always think of our special day when I hear that song, but this time it occurred to me that it is so much more appropriate for my parents.  I am touched by the little ways they look out for each other.  Sure, they have their arguments just like everybody else.  However, there is something extremely special about such a long-term close relationship.  They know each other so well.  My parents still hold hands.  The tenderness I see between them touches my heart.  My mom constantly watches out for my dad and worries if he is out of sight; he has fallen recently and now walks with a cane.  My dad makes tea for my mom most evenings, putting it in her own special teapot and cup.  Age brings physical problems; they take turns putting drops into each other’s eyes.  There are smiles and looks that are reserved only for each other.  They now take joy in simple things.  They love to go for a drive in the country and discover new places or simply sit in their chairs and watch a favorite TV show.   I look at them and I know what love is.

I think this song could have been written for them.

"Longer"

By Dan Fogelberg

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you

Stronger than any mountain cathedral
Truer than any tree ever grew
Deeper than any forest primeval
I am in love with you

I'll bring fire in the winters
You'll send showers in the springs
We'll fly through the falls and summers
With love on our wings

Through the years, as the fire starts to mellow
Burning lines in the book of our lives
Though the binding cracks and the pages start to yellow
I'll be in love with you
I'll be in love with you

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you
I am in love with you

Being Present on My Deck

God within, God without

Sun shining on me

Warmth on my shoulder

Warmth within reaching out

Doves cooing, birds singing

The earth hums with life

Wind whispers thru leaves

Light shines off water

And reflects from within

I empty my mind

Allowing life around me

To wash over me, sink in

Eyes open to see the beauty

A lovely prayer and meditation

Sitting by the River

The river rushes by me

I long to jump in and float

To see what lies around the bend

To experience the excitement

I want to let the river carry me

But instead I sit on the bank

And watch others float by

Today I am content to sit quietly

I know this is where I need to be

I need to pause in my busyness

And take time to heal,

Time to listen and reflect

I remember to simply be

I am aware of my connection

To my Creator and all of creation

I feel the warmth of God’s love

That will carry me farther

Than the river ever can

Written on 7/7/2015

River Therapy

This morning I awoke to the sounds of a rushing river and bird songs.  Once the sun hit the tent, I pulled myself out of my warm sleeping bag, and emerged to inhale the fresh mountain air.

Breakfast is over and I’m sitting on the shore of the Salmon River.  The sun is shining and the air is cool—such a relief after the heat of the past week in the valley.  The birds continue to sing; there are so many of them.  Chipmunks scurry around the rocks.  Already several rafts have floated by.  The occupants wave or call out a greeting as I look up.

It is so quiet and peaceful here.  We purposely came after the busy July 4^th weekend.  There are not many people here now.  I need a bit of solitude, some time to disconnect.  I am tired in both body and spirit.  I need healing.  What better place to seek it?  In the natural world life comes down to the basics.  This is my time to reflect and remind myself that I am one with God’s world.

Written on 7/6/2015

Heat Wave

I left the comfort of my air-conditioned house to sit on our deck for a while.  The day is rapidly heating up and the temperature is approaching mid-90s and will supposedly hit 102.  This morning my husband and I took our dogs for a walk along the river.  Most of the path is shaded and there are opportunities for the dogs to stop and drink.  We returned home shortly after noon.  One dog sprawled out on the floor while the other lay across the AC vent. 

We have endured about a week of temperatures over 100 degrees; this is not common here.  The hottest day was on Sunday when it hit 110.  I had planned to shop that day.  After all, the car had AC and so does the mall.  I stepped outside and felt like I had hit a brick wall of heat.  It literally took my breath away.  I walked back inside and decided to stay home.  When it was ONLY 102 the next day, we felt so much cooler.

I think I could live on salads and ice cream right now.  The heat zaps my appetite and my energy.  I found myself nodding off at the computer last night.  I looked over and saw my husband asleep on the couch with one cat on top of him and the other asleep nearby.  The dogs were stretched out on the floor.

Well, before I fall asleep, I think I’ll go back inside where it’s cooler and pour myself a glass of iced tea.  I’m looking forward to cooler days but I may need to drive to the mountains for that.

What Matters

Our phone rang early this morning.  A friend told us the news.  I jumped onto Facebook—my news feed was overflowing with the announcement of the Supreme Court’s historic ruling.  Same sex marriage is now legal in all 50 states.  Such joy flooded the Internet!  I am thrilled that gay relationships are finally recognized in our country.  The next step is to ensure that all people have equal rights under the law.  In Idaho that means that we need to “Add the Words” sexual orientation and gender identity to the Idaho Human Rights Act.  A federal ruling would be even better. 

I know there will be an uproar from the far right, especially from fundamentalist Christians.  But why?  How does this actually hurt them or affect their marriages?  What really matters? 

Not all that long ago I didn’t pay much attention to gay rights.  I didn’t know very many gay people.  About 6 years ago a small group in our church offered a study on homosexuality and the Bible.  I wanted to know more so I signed up.  I learned about the historic context in which the Bible verses cited by anti-gay Christians were written, plus I learned of other interpretations.  Out of this class grew an effort to make our church a Reconciling Congregation, one that welcomes all people including LGBT people.

Our congregation voted to become a Reconciling Congregation 4 years ago and I ended up as chair of the Reconciling Ministries Team.  I began to attend events to meet members of the LGBT community and let them know that our church is supportive.  One thing led to another.  I went from being acquainted with a few gay people to knowing a broad spectrum of LGBT people.  I have learned so much over the past few years.

What have I learned?  Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people aren’t that different from me.  Gay people are attracted to the same sex, but otherwise their “lifestyles” are just like those of everyone else I know—they work, go to school, have families, go on vacations, volunteer, and go to church.  I have met some wonderful, interesting, and caring people.  Why should it matter who they love?  Their love for their partners/spouses is every bit as committed and deep as mine.  I think they should have the right to make it legal.

I have come to believe that gender does not matter.  I know people who are gay, transgender, gender fluid, asexual, cisgender, and more.  Human sexuality is so much more complicated and diverse than I ever imagined.  I am still learning.  We are all part of God’s wonderful creation.

What really matters?  I believe that God is the Creator and cares for all of creation.  We are born straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender—and created in God’s image.  We are all one, connected in spirit to each other and to God.  Let’s embrace each other.  Humans share the same needs and desires.  We all want to be loved and to love.  Let’s also celebrate our differences.  Our human diversity makes life so much more interesting and demonstrates God’s amazing creativity.  We all deserve respect and to be treated equally under the laws of our country.  Today I am filled with joy over the Supreme Court's decision to affirm marriage equality. 

My Day in Court

The alarm went off early and I pulled myself out of bed.  I showered and put on my nylons, a skirt, top, and jacket.  I ate a quick breakfast and finished getting ready.  Once in my car, I drove myself down to the Courthouse.  It was a week ago today that I got my day in court.

I parked my car and walked around to the front of the building.  My group of fellow Add the 4 Words arrestees was standing outside.  We all walked into the Courthouse together, found our courtroom on the reader board, and took the elevator upstairs.  We crowded into a small conference room just outside of the courtroom.  Our attorney discussed the prosecutor’s offer with us.  Nobody liked it; some were concerned about the one year (or more) probation and others were concerned about the number of days of community service.  Our lawyer, along with another lawyer he recruited, went back and forth to the prosecutor and to the judge.  There was lots of discussion.

Three people who had only been arrested one time (March 2) took a revised plea offer.  There were 15 people who were arrested two or three times in March.  The judge agreed to hear their cases and consolidate them; they will be sentenced at a later date.  That left six of us who had only been arrested on March 2 (this year) and it was decided that our cases would be heard that day.  I was caught a bit off guard because we had been told that we would probably just talk with the attorney and be sentenced later.  We were told we could make a statement; I didn't feel prepared but I quickly thought about what to say.  The attorney began to talk to us about our individual cases but was told that the judge was ready for us.  He said he’d just wing it.  Oh boy.  I was nervous.  We all solemnly walked into the courtroom and sat down; the entire group went in.

The judge began by talking about the way he viewed our cases.  He acknowledged that we were not like the usual defendants who walked into his courtroom.  We were mostly older, like him, good citizens and civic-minded.  He talked a little about the fact that civil disobedience has been used throughout history.  I think we all relaxed just a bit.  We were called in alphabetical order and I was so glad I wasn’t first.  The judge asked the first person, B.A., questions to make sure she understood the charges and the process.  We were all charged with trespassing, a misdemeanor.  Our attorney made his statement on behalf of B.A.  She made her statement, telling about herself and her lesbian daughter.  She told the judge that she is not a threat to the community and therefore didn’t deserve probation.  The prosecutor asked for a fine, court costs, community service to be substituted for jail time and one year probation.  It was the judge’s turn—we all held our breath.  He gave her what the prosecutor asked for except for the probation.

The second defendant, D.F., was called forward.  Our lawyer pleaded for reduced community service hours since the 7 days proposed by the prosecution was a huge burden on a clergy person.  The prosecutor stated that they did not believe that we are a danger to the community.  The reason they were asking for probation was to deter us from doing the same thing next year.  We had guessed that this was the reason but I was surprised that she admitted it to the judge.  The judge reduced D.F.’s community service by several days.  No probation.  I was up next.  Nervously I walked up and sat in the chair next to our attorney.  He whispered what he was going to say to the judge and I nodded.  When it was my time to speak I simply said that I had lived there for over 30 years and was active in my church and the community.  As a person of faith I felt I needed to participate in this action because I felt that all people should be treated equally.  I told the judge that I was prepared to take responsibility for my actions.  Phew.  I got the same fine as the other two, one less day of community service, and no probation.  One by one the other three went forward.  The judge did the same for them.  And then it was over.

We all felt that the judge had treated us fairly.  Our attorney told me that I can do my community service hours at any nonprofit (501 3c).  I shook his hand and thanked him.  He’s an extremely busy man, yet he represented us for free.  We all stood around and talked for a while.  I got a few hugs.  One was from J.K., a gay man who never fails to thank me and hug me.  We all headed downstairs to pay fines.  They were covered by donations made to Add the 4 Words.  I was so grateful for that help, but I know we will need more for the rest of the group.

I didn't get home until about 1:00 p.m.—it was a long morning.  I was exhausted—it was an emotional day.  So now I have a record.  I’m thinking about where to do my community service hours.  Lots of thoughts swirled through my head for the rest of the day.  However, I have no regrets.  When I walked into the Capitol building on March 2, I had no doubt that I was supposed to be there.  The Idaho legislature needs to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to the Idaho Human Rights Act.  It’s a matter of justice.

Mother’s Day Thoughts

Another Mother’s Day has come and gone.  This year I was surprised to see a number of anti-Mother’s Day articles and posts on the Internet.  There were mothers who stated that they did not want to celebrate the holiday.  Some people feel the day should not be observed at all.

I understand that Mother’s Day can be painful for some people.  It can be difficult for those who have lost their mothers recently.  It is hard on women who can’t have children or for those who gave up their children.  Some people had abusive mothers or were abandoned by their mothers.  It is important to be sensitive to these people.  Many churches have changed how they approach Mother’s Day to respect people who find the day to be difficult.

However, I don’t think it is necessary to throw it all out because of these concerns.  For me, Mother’s Day is a very personal observance.  Unfortunately, I no longer live near my mother or daughters so we celebrate from afar.  We get busy in our lives and it is helpful to have a special day set aside to say thanks to our mothers.  Of course, we should do this more than once a year, but I like having a special day.

My mother is now 85 years old and lives in another state.  It has been years since I was with her on Mother’s Day.  Every year I send her flowers.  She looks forward to them and my siblings all know that I do this.  I call a flower shop in her town to place the order—the flowers are always beautiful.  When I called her last night, she told me that they had arrived at just the right time.  She wasn't feeling well so decided to skip a family gathering the day before.  The flowers brightened her sad day.  I have stopped thinking about the increasing cost of flowers.  They make her happy and I know that I won’t have her forever.  My husband also sends flowers to his 91-year-old mother.

My daughters live across the country from me.  I receive cards and gifts, sometimes on time and sometimes late—all chosen with great care.  I am impressed by their choices; they know what I’ll like.  I am especially touched by their words, either on cards or on Facebook.  Being their mother has not always been easy but I would do it again in a heartbeat.  I am so proud of the women they have grown to be.

By next Mother’s Day my older daughter will be celebrating with her new son.  That first one is so special.  Motherhood is a hard job but it’s the best job I've ever had.