Water reflected back images of the sky and two people gliding across the surface in a wooden canoe. Early morning silence broken only by loons diving, frogs attempting to mate in the swamp and my date. "Look, there's a moose with a calf wading along the edge."
This was an activity I loved. My parents had taken me canoeing often when I was little. I love the smooth motion, the silent speed and being able to look down into the clear water and feel like I'm flying above a whole different world.
My honey and I could combine adventure with exercise and a picnic. The food had been my idea and I packed two different salads, a loaf of bread and my favorite vegan chocolate tofu cake topped with cherries.
Halfway around the lake, he gestured toward a sand bar. We paddled to it and pulled the canoe out of the water. My quilt was perfect for spreading out the meal. I'm glad I brought a pillow too because I fell asleep from the combination of fresh air, exercise and being sated.
We woke in time to paddle the rest of the way around the lake before dark and enjoy the pinks, reds and purples of the sunset. If not for sharing the late afternoon lake with water skiers, people fishing and the huge party barges filled with revelers, we might have felt like explorers on an expedition of discovery.
THE END
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Off the Hook
An outdoor guy is not necessarily compatible with an environmentally friendly woman. I said yes to the date before I knew I’d be going ice fishing. My first thought was ‘No! No!’ My second thought was, ‘I’ll never be warm again.’ I refused to get a fishing license because I didn't plan to do more than watch.
My date told me to wear layers because by lunchtime it would be pretty warm. He picked me up before daylight on a Sunday morning with a four-wheel-drive pickup towing a snowmobile trailer. We drove forty miles to the lake where he had his fishing shack and parked on the ice. He had to reassure me several times that it was safe.
I sat behind him on the snowmobile to reach the wood building the size of a garden shed with a metal chimney sticking out of the roof. He made four more trips for gear and food before he started a fire in the wood stove. He achieved very little heat in relation to the smoke billowing from the pipe. I refused to stay inside a building that felt more like a meat locker and escaped outdoors where the temperature in the high-teens was a heatwave.
I watched him bait the hooks with smelt. Who knew smaller fish would entice bigger fish - cannibals. This date was a mistake, but he was proud to be introducing me to a great outdoor sport of watching for flags to pop up indicating a fish was on the hook. Nothing all morning. He jumped on the sled to drive a few hundred yard to visit someone at another shack. I was ready to go home and then I learned we'd be there until dark. I was imprisoned on a block of ice hoping to see a flag waving in the air to indicate a pending execution. I don't even eat fish.
Late afternoon a flag waved. He grabbed the line, reeled it in and saw the fish inside the hole. "It's a big one." The fish flicked its tail just right, dislodged the hook and dove deep beneath the ice. My date yelled and thrust his arm deep into the freezing water to try to catch it with his hand. Home please. I followed the fish's lead; off the hook and swimming away.
THE END
My date told me to wear layers because by lunchtime it would be pretty warm. He picked me up before daylight on a Sunday morning with a four-wheel-drive pickup towing a snowmobile trailer. We drove forty miles to the lake where he had his fishing shack and parked on the ice. He had to reassure me several times that it was safe.
I sat behind him on the snowmobile to reach the wood building the size of a garden shed with a metal chimney sticking out of the roof. He made four more trips for gear and food before he started a fire in the wood stove. He achieved very little heat in relation to the smoke billowing from the pipe. I refused to stay inside a building that felt more like a meat locker and escaped outdoors where the temperature in the high-teens was a heatwave.
I watched him bait the hooks with smelt. Who knew smaller fish would entice bigger fish - cannibals. This date was a mistake, but he was proud to be introducing me to a great outdoor sport of watching for flags to pop up indicating a fish was on the hook. Nothing all morning. He jumped on the sled to drive a few hundred yard to visit someone at another shack. I was ready to go home and then I learned we'd be there until dark. I was imprisoned on a block of ice hoping to see a flag waving in the air to indicate a pending execution. I don't even eat fish.
Late afternoon a flag waved. He grabbed the line, reeled it in and saw the fish inside the hole. "It's a big one." The fish flicked its tail just right, dislodged the hook and dove deep beneath the ice. My date yelled and thrust his arm deep into the freezing water to try to catch it with his hand. Home please. I followed the fish's lead; off the hook and swimming away.
THE END
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Board Games by Candlelight
We decided to stay in on Sunday night, play a board game and flirt by candlelight (yeah, energy savings and romance). The problem might be the game; I hardly ever follow the rules as written. While this is no surprise to people who know me, strangers wonder how I play games. At the consignment store, I bought a combination checkers, chess and backgammon game for a quarter. Surprise all the pieces were still intact as was the pristine rule book.
My problem with playing games with new people is that I am an overly competitive person who lives by a mantra ‘what good is playing if not to win’. I know better than scare off my honey by playing by the rules as written. I’d end up clobbering him in retaliation for taking one of my game pieces.
What to do? Rewrite the rules of course. In choosing to live my life in as sustainable way as possible, I know about cooperation. So, we started with backgammon; the dice are the luck of the draw and random chance is acceptable. Placement of the pieces according to the rules is fair and equitable. The possibility of hindering the opponent from moving by either blocking the section or removing pieces occupying a space all alone wouldn’t work for me. This mean singles could be treated with disrespect and shoved aside just for being single.
Perhaps as a game strategy the rule would make the game for interesting and increase competition. As an ethic, the rule allows for profiling and discrimination. We threw out the rule along with the rule of no sharing spaces between the two colors. I thought it discouraged companionship and the new rule was sharing if fine as long as total capacity wasn’t exceeded.
We didn’t ruin the game because we nipped my competitive streak before it could turn into a battle. I lost and I cheered his win because it was almost like I had a share in his victory. Since spending time together, sharing and bonding were the goals, we didn’t get bored with the new rules. And we discovered we work together well.
THE END
My problem with playing games with new people is that I am an overly competitive person who lives by a mantra ‘what good is playing if not to win’. I know better than scare off my honey by playing by the rules as written. I’d end up clobbering him in retaliation for taking one of my game pieces.
What to do? Rewrite the rules of course. In choosing to live my life in as sustainable way as possible, I know about cooperation. So, we started with backgammon; the dice are the luck of the draw and random chance is acceptable. Placement of the pieces according to the rules is fair and equitable. The possibility of hindering the opponent from moving by either blocking the section or removing pieces occupying a space all alone wouldn’t work for me. This mean singles could be treated with disrespect and shoved aside just for being single.
Perhaps as a game strategy the rule would make the game for interesting and increase competition. As an ethic, the rule allows for profiling and discrimination. We threw out the rule along with the rule of no sharing spaces between the two colors. I thought it discouraged companionship and the new rule was sharing if fine as long as total capacity wasn’t exceeded.
We didn’t ruin the game because we nipped my competitive streak before it could turn into a battle. I lost and I cheered his win because it was almost like I had a share in his victory. Since spending time together, sharing and bonding were the goals, we didn’t get bored with the new rules. And we discovered we work together well.
THE END
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Down by the River
The right enviro-friendly person for me is willing to dress up in shabbiest clothes and brave mosquitoes, sun exposure and other people's garbage. The meet up place for the river clean-up project was right on the exercise path to make it easy for those of us who commute more simply whenever possible.
My date and I were provided a bag designated for recyclables (cans, plastic bottles), a pair of work gloves with no-slip grips and two additional bags for trash. We were assigned a section of the riverbank to work as a team of two to clean up debris and detritus.
The reason we signed on was the opportunity to do something positive for the environment together. And from what we picked up we really did help the miniscule area assigned to us. We found so many beverage containers, we had to flag down the support crew for a second recyclable bag and to ask where to put the scrap metal and automobile tires we found dumped near the dam. The most common item we found though was the plastic shopping bag in various forms from shredded and stuck in flood remnants to filled with sand or just carried on the breeze.
The call for volunteers had encouraged kids' groups and others to join for a wholesome activity or educational experience. I'm all for fostering life long volunteering and starting early with environmental awareness, though we saw a few individuals use the event to walk along the path and point out trash without picking it up. I suspect the post-cleanup pizza party had been the major draw.
My date and I agreed, we signed up to work and that meant ruin-our-already-worn-out-clothing hard labor and make a real difference. Just because we volunteered didn't mean we had a right to slack off. Our reward was the pizza (from a local entrepreneur) and natural soda (served in the can to join the other recyclables). We also had a chance to visit with the staff members of the water reclamation district and learn about what our city was doing to conserve and reuse water.
THE END
My date and I were provided a bag designated for recyclables (cans, plastic bottles), a pair of work gloves with no-slip grips and two additional bags for trash. We were assigned a section of the riverbank to work as a team of two to clean up debris and detritus.
The reason we signed on was the opportunity to do something positive for the environment together. And from what we picked up we really did help the miniscule area assigned to us. We found so many beverage containers, we had to flag down the support crew for a second recyclable bag and to ask where to put the scrap metal and automobile tires we found dumped near the dam. The most common item we found though was the plastic shopping bag in various forms from shredded and stuck in flood remnants to filled with sand or just carried on the breeze.
The call for volunteers had encouraged kids' groups and others to join for a wholesome activity or educational experience. I'm all for fostering life long volunteering and starting early with environmental awareness, though we saw a few individuals use the event to walk along the path and point out trash without picking it up. I suspect the post-cleanup pizza party had been the major draw.
My date and I agreed, we signed up to work and that meant ruin-our-already-worn-out-clothing hard labor and make a real difference. Just because we volunteered didn't mean we had a right to slack off. Our reward was the pizza (from a local entrepreneur) and natural soda (served in the can to join the other recyclables). We also had a chance to visit with the staff members of the water reclamation district and learn about what our city was doing to conserve and reuse water.
THE END
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Sharing Clean Laundry
Why should being single mean I couldn't have the marital bonus of efficient laundry; just tossing our clothes together to make a full load? Environmentally friendly doesn't have to be politically correct.
Spare change is a valuable asset and is best reserved for laundry evening. My honey even makes frugality positive. Pride tinges his voice and he stands up a little straighter when he tells me I am a cheap date. For laundry evening, we pool our resources and shared a washer and dryer. I'm willing to provide the biodegradable detergent.
We share our life histories and dreams for the future while we wait for the load to wash and then dry. We could have been more efficient by hanging our clothes to drip dry. And we do now that our laundry date isn't used as an excuse to spend extra time together.
THE END
A laundry date shows compatibility and if it doesn't work out at least clean clothes are gained. I've been teased that sharing laundry is too intimate. I figure if a relationship is going to work, might as well not invest too much energy in figuring out if I want my clothes mixed with his on a more permanent basis. The bonus is knowing for future reference he's capable and willing to share laundry duty.
Spare change is a valuable asset and is best reserved for laundry evening. My honey even makes frugality positive. Pride tinges his voice and he stands up a little straighter when he tells me I am a cheap date. For laundry evening, we pool our resources and shared a washer and dryer. I'm willing to provide the biodegradable detergent.
We share our life histories and dreams for the future while we wait for the load to wash and then dry. We could have been more efficient by hanging our clothes to drip dry. And we do now that our laundry date isn't used as an excuse to spend extra time together.
THE END
Pizza of a Woman's Heart
Instead of dinner at a restaurant, homemade pizza is relatively easy to make and frugal. Using locally sourced ingredients and making it vegetarian add to low environmental impact. A man willing to impress me by making this effort in the kitchen won me over.
I admit to a limited history with men who cook. My father occasionally grilled on a hibachi, but never prepared side dishes. I learned I could eat what he made with a side of pre-sliced bread and love it. When I worked as a chef, the owner cooked for his family almost every evening. Knowing that many of the top chefs were men and many of them also were the primary home cooks didn't register. I believed men in general marry to gain a cook.
This man's willingness to serve a single specialty menu to impress me made him special. He wasn't trying to compete with me; sharing was his goal. One shared moment led to more food samplings. We might not be considered fully compatible, but his strengths complement mine and I am willing to share my private kitchen with him.
For him I'd eat cardboard dipped in olive oil (I guess that would be an ultimate recycling activity). Like all his meals, the thoughts both for the environment and for romance counts more than the skill of preparation and I will admit that my taste buds have an affinity for any food he makes because he adds love as his special ingredient. Plus he's willing to clean up when he's done.
The End
I admit to a limited history with men who cook. My father occasionally grilled on a hibachi, but never prepared side dishes. I learned I could eat what he made with a side of pre-sliced bread and love it. When I worked as a chef, the owner cooked for his family almost every evening. Knowing that many of the top chefs were men and many of them also were the primary home cooks didn't register. I believed men in general marry to gain a cook.
This man's willingness to serve a single specialty menu to impress me made him special. He wasn't trying to compete with me; sharing was his goal. One shared moment led to more food samplings. We might not be considered fully compatible, but his strengths complement mine and I am willing to share my private kitchen with him.
For him I'd eat cardboard dipped in olive oil (I guess that would be an ultimate recycling activity). Like all his meals, the thoughts both for the environment and for romance counts more than the skill of preparation and I will admit that my taste buds have an affinity for any food he makes because he adds love as his special ingredient. Plus he's willing to clean up when he's done.
The End
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