John Hinckley Jr., Williamsburg, and My Church

When our subscriptions to the Daily Press and the Virginia Gazette ran out, my husband and I didn't renew. We thought the local newspapers were thin on substantive news, conservative, and gossipy. We need to know more, are liberal, and not particularly social. So I laughed at myself for reading the long, gossipy article in the Washington Post, which is now tossed on our driveway daily, about John Hinckley's probably next move to my hometown.

The reporter relished in her descriptions of the NIMBY-ness of the Williamsburg and Kingsmill communities. I loved her line about the murder of a cat being front page news around here. The murder of cats has, in fact, been front page news in Williamsburg's Virginia Gazette. Locals may remember Hill Pleasant Farm and the outrage of locals against the owner for drowning feral cats in a pond on his property. I included a photo (also above) of the farm on page 109 in my book about James City County. Thousands of Williamsburg-area school children visited the farm to learn about apples and pumpkins and all things warm and fuzzy about our wholesome, local farming community.

I digress. I do feel empathy for Hinckley, as I know how depression feels. Likewise, I have empathy for his brain injured victim, White House press secretary Jim Brady, as I am a person who copes with moderate TBI.

Interestingly, my church and minister were cited for offering Hinckley a job in the Williamsburg Unitarian Universalists church library. The Reverend Jennifer Ryu said, "He needs a community. He needs to socialize. We believe in leaving no one out of our circle." I'll second that emotion. And I look forward to, perhaps, meeting the would-be assassin. I like to form my opinions based upon first-hand experience, not just from what I read in the paper or, ahem, on the Internet. Don't you agree?

A Woodpecker Tree in My Natural Lawn

The woodpecker tree that was "planted" in my backyard by my husband, sons, and daughter's boyfriend several weeks ago is one my proudest possessions. Working to reverse the environmental impact of the modern lawn, I am a promoter of natural landscaping. Sure, I know that I am engineering "natural" for now. But I can see, after nearly three years, that soon I will be rewarded for the hours that it has taken to re-create my yard in a manner that will contribute, in a small way, to the near-term survival of our species. Shortly, my yard time will be spent in simple maintenance tasks ... including pulling the English ivy, Japanese stilt grass, and other non-natives that creep over from my neighbors' yards.

The woodpecker tree was once part of a tall and old white oak tree. Our suburb was developed out of disused James City County farmland about 50 years ago and my house is on the edge of it, in the headwaters of a creek that feeds the James River. So we are blessed (or cursed, depending upon your fear of hurricanes and nor'easters) with lovely trees that sprouted about the time of the Civil War. The guys from Johnny Timbers called the branch that became my woodpecker tree "a tree growing out of a tree." It stretched out to shade my entire back yard and its weight frightened my daughter, whose bedroom is on the back of the house, for many years. Finally, after a nor'easter brought a tree down on my neighbors house I enlisted the arborists to relieve the parent tree of its excessive weight. They said they would saw it up and take it away, but I said no, as I envisioned turning it into a woodpecker tree. They laughed.

Why woodpecker trees? Cavity nesting birds like bluebirds and chickadees nest in tree cavities created by other critters, like woodpeckers. Unfortunately, inhabitants of the suburbs don't leave too many dead trees standing. Nest boxes help, but in order to attract more birds to my lawn, I need trees with holes in them. Voila! I can enhance my suburban "natural" lawn with dead wood.

My woodpecker tree provides hours of free entertainment as I watch the squirrels and birds climb and perch. I smear it with a little Birdacious Bark Butter and the wildlife love it even more.

The woodpecker seen in the photo above is a downy woodpecker ... or is it a hairy woodpecker? I wish I could learn to tell these two apart! The hairy is the larger of the two and I believe the one seen here is a hairy. Or maybe it's a downy ... Argh.

The Best Saturdays are Spent Bird Watching and Gardening

Saturday morning on Queen's Creek. Another walk with the Williamsburg Bird Club, led today by Bill Williams. We walked from the parking lot to the floating dock and saw bluebirds, cow birds, grackles, cardinals, towhees, wrens, titmice, chickadees, goldfinches, robins, and more. On the creek, there were osprey, great blue herons, white egrets, red-winged blackbirds, red-shouldered hawks, laughing gulls ... We walked through the woods and into the brushy area where there were plenty of warblers, gnatcatchers, woodpeckers. A very birdy day.

Next stop: the annual Virginia Native Plant Society sale. I bought swamp milkweed, butterfly weed, jewelweed, bee balm, foam flowers. All but the bee balm were purchased because they are suitable for my very shady yard, which is a flower and vegetable garden with a rain garden on the side. At home again, I got them all in the ground just in time for the rain. The bee balm was planted in a spot where it will get about 5 hours of sun a day. Keep your fingers crossed.

Did I mention that I stopped by the Williamsburg Farmers Market? Ah, yes. A little bee pollen for extra energy ... and amaretto-almond honey butter just for fun.

Tonight? A book and a glass of wine. Saturdays are splendid.

Back in School

I recently discovered what I want to do with the rest of my life. About time, don't you think? So, here it is 26 years since I finished my M.B.A. that I find myself back in school and preparing for my first final exam in quite a while.

I've known for a long time that business isn't my cup of tea, but I couldn't quite figure out what else to do. I've been freelancing, mostly writing books and articles since dropping out of a full-time traditional business job in 2004. When my father suffered a stoke last year I found my interest in brain injury and communication coming together like magic. Dad has aphasia of the sort that has left him fluent, but making many word errors. He uses many "nonsense" words and has difficulty reading and understanding what is said to him.

When a speech therapist came to work with him, I discovered the speech-language pathology career path, which I am exploring by taking courses online through Longwood University. Am I too old for this radical career change? I have to think not. I love to learn, am intrigued by our unique human ability to use language, and know that I need to do something helpful and worthwhile. Volunteer experience so far has been touching. It feels right.

Wish me luck with my Anatomy and Physiology exam! Send positive energy this way on next Thursday morning.

Wales

Last summer I met Chris Evans from the U. of Glamorgan who was visiting Colonial Williamsburg as a visiting research fellow. His research has to do with Wales and their industrial support of slavery. You know, iron into hoes, wool into cheap clothing. So, one day I told him that I imagined Wales looking like the Charlottesville area and he replied, "Yes, but there are no trees in Wales." That put a damper on this treehugger's eagerness to visit the "land of my fathers."

But when husband Ken showed me this article in today's Washington Post, I got fired up again, looking ... for the perfect cottage rental, walking path, castles, etc., etc. To do: look at Centre for Alternative Technology website, search for a source of real Welsh wool to knit blanket for my step-grandchild to be, buy caephilly cheese, read "How Green was My Valley" ...

Wales, the greenest place on Earth
By Pamela Petro
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, March 21, 2010

For two decades I've been exhausting my vocabulary seeking names for all the shades of green in the Welsh countryside. Pastures are Crayola green; windbreaks are jade; spring mosses are the chartreuse of an avocado's innards. The ribboning hills after it has rained, when sunlight breaks through shark-colored clouds, throb pure neon. Distance makes the mountains aquamarine.

These days, Wales can add another green to its palette: the green that comes from being one of the most environmentally progressive nations on Earth ...

(Photo from WP article.)