Life – Page 12 – Crucible as Myself

Mayberry Halloween

October 30, 2021/in Life/by Catherine Haslag

I grew up in a little town in a valley along the Osage River. Looking back on it, it was a bit of an idyllic place for a kid to grow up. Everyone knew everyone and looked out for each other. Don’t get me wrong, there were downsides too. Gossip and nosiness were present in no shortage. There is a line from Doc Hollywood where Vialula says regarding the gossip in Grady, “Can’t poop in this town without everybody knowin’ what color it is.” This was true of my home town as well.

Halloween 1994: the last year I went trick or treating. I am dressed in jammies on the right. I will not identify the other two pictured in the photo to protect their anonymity and perhaps shield them from embarrassment.

Growing up, one of my favorite times of year was Halloween. There were many kids in my hometown and they all dressed up and walked around town trick-or-treating. A few of the parents dressed up too. It was like a social night full of ghouls, superheroes, princesses, and candy. One parent (or the oldest child) would take the kids out. The other parent would stay home and hand out candy.

The costume was of utmost importance. I usually thought about it for months in advance of the big night. It was a way for me to try on a new identity for a while. Dress in a way I didn’t normally dress. Over the years I was a witch, a skeleton, a clown, a princess, and when I was 8, Helen Keller. I was REALLY into Helen Keller that year. That is a story for a later blog.

I quickly figured out which houses gave out good candy and which didn’t. The worst house on my list was two doors down from my home. They had a VERY tall, poorly-lit set of stairs to climb to their deck, where the front door was located. Once you climbed to their front door, all they ever offered was that horrible taffy wrapped in orange and black paper. I HATED going to that house for candy. I thought it was a waste of time since I didn’t like the candy, but mom made me go every year because grandma liked the taffy. So I went, like a good little granddaughter, every year so I could give those 3-5 pieces of candy to grandma.

The two BEST houses on the route were Edgar and Marlene Kliethermes and Alvina and Leslie Jaegers. We always went to their homes last. The Kliethermes’ handed out homemade popcorn balls. This wasn’t my favorite, but my mom loved them and the Kliethermes were so nice. We always sat and visited with them for a while. Plus, their three youngest sons liked to hide and scare trick-or-treaters. It was fun to see what they did each year. One year, they didn’t hear us coming up their long driveway and we startled them. Always a bonus when you are a little kid.

The Jaegers house was the last house we stopped on our quest. They didn’t just give you candy at the door and send you on your way. No, kids and parents were invited inside. They had cold punch if it was hot and hot chocolate if it was cold. Alvina also worked at Scholastic Books and would give out books AND candy. I figured out that if I was the last trick or treater, she would give me all the candy and books she had left. That’s pure childhood, Halloween gold!

After the candy collection was complete, it was time to sort my loot. I would dump the contents of my pumpkin on the floor in the living room, the candy would scatter across the rug and onto the hardwood floors. My favorites (Twix, Reeces, Butterfinger…) went in one pile, the middle-of-the-road (Snickers, Hershey, Starburst…) went in a second pile, and “trash candy” (Smarties, Sweet Tarts, and other flavorless forms of sugar) went in a third pile. The favorites never made it 24 hours and I usually went to bed with a case of sugar belly.

Those Halloween nights have long since ended in my hometown. Most of the people I spoke of above have shuffled off their mortal coils. Rather than house-to-house trick or treating, now a trunk-or-treat type activity is held downtown. No more huffing and puffing to walk to the top of the church hill. No more popcorn balls. No more Halloween gold. Just my memories of this magical night through the eyes as a child.

Blog from the past…

I wrote about one of the books I was given by Alvina in a previous blog. It was titled “What the Wind Told.” Click the link to go straight to this blog.

Tea Time

October 20, 2021/in Ideas, Life/by Catherine Haslag

A good cup of tea can make all the difference. Something to warm your hands, wet your throat, and soothe your soul.

A cup of tea is a good friend who creates the space you need to care for yourself. The friend who can just be there and require nothing in return. Who keeps your secrets, never judges, and lets you regather yourself on the hard days.

Or who just sits with you in your joy and basks in it.

The Twitterverse

October 16, 2021/in Life/by Catherine Haslag

Last year I joined the Twitterverse. I am still not sure it was a good idea. I don’t tweet a lot, but I do go on to see what topics are trending and what people are generally talking about. I find a lot of tweets about politics, sports, and popular TV shows. Some of my favorite topics have been #unvaccinatedsongs, the time Kayleigh McEnany blamed Joe Biden for the 2020 murder rate…even though he wasn’t president, and every…single…#caterday.

The wonderful Twitter content that makes up #Caterday.

I have also used it as a way to practice gratitude. A thank you to a fellow teacher for a very helpful webinar on how to revamp the general chemistry series to be more beneficial for students. Praise to an author for the incredibly good book I just finished reading. Appreciation to a creator for a recent podcast episode.

Kayleigh McEnany’s tweet on Sept 9, 2021 claiming that the US murder rate rose in 2020 under the Biden Presidency.

I am sure there are meaningful conversations being had on Twitter, but I have yet to find them. It mostly seems like its approximately 300 million active users are just shouting into the void. A hurricane slurry of sarcastic comments, crude and vulgar opinions, a plethora of gifs, and a sprinkling of genuine news and good ideas. I have been told that if you know how to use the site, you can track conversations using hashtags, but they change so often and quickly that I don’t see how anyone can keep up with anything. It’s hard to find the useful when it’s mixed in with so much trash. The proverbial needle in a tweet stack.

I set my Twitter preferences, indicating I like to read, and was flooded with so many book discussions that I was overwhelmed. I follow reliable news sources but also get recommendations for other people and companies I might like to follow. Plus all the ads. It’s like playing electronic whack-a-mole. I block Chanel and end up getting 10 other fragrance ads from other companies. There doesn’t seem to be a good way to narrow down the information to a stream that I find useful. To something less than overwhelming. Because of this, I keep my explorations short and sweet so I don’t get sucked irrevocably into a Twitter black hole.

Tweets made under the hashtage #UnvaccinatedSongs. Twitter can provide much creative humor.

I do occasionally shout into the void. It feels good sometimes to get something off of my chest, to contribute my own sarcasm and thoughts to the slurry. I try not to say anything that would be embarrassing if my boss or grandma read it. I also try to tweet something that will improve the public discord. No name-calling, focus on behavior, and stick to the facts. I think I have successfully met most of these goals most of the time.

I hope to eventually find a way to use Twitter in a more efficient and meaningful way. Either that or I will simply stop tweeting and let my account become inactive. In the meantime, I will use it as a snapshot of the public conversation, quick updates on current events, sending messages of appreciation to others…and occasionally shout into the void.

Katieville

October 9, 2021/in Life/by Catherine Haslag

Dear Ms. L’Engle

October 2, 2021/in Books, Life/by Catherine Haslag

Dear Ms. L’Engle,

My copy of A Wrinkle in Time, which I read in 5th grade.

It started as a school assignment

in 5th grade. Eighteen copies of A Wrinkle in Time lined up on the shelf like identical little soldiers as Mrs. Hitz talked about the first novel we were reading for the year. We were going to read 4 such novels between August and May. Yours has been with me ever since.

I still have the copy we read. Since our parents provided the money to buy the copies for the classes to share, we got to take them home at the end of the year. It has had an honored spot on my bookcase ever since. My steady companion for 30 years. It was my introduction to the sci-fi/fantasy genre of books. I loved the whimsy of Ms. Who, Ms. What, and Ms. Which. The tesseract boggled my young mind.

I related strongly to the heroine Meg, an awkward girl who doesn’t yet know or trust her abilities. Who doesn’t yet know where she fits in the world. My 11-year-old self hadn’t yet begun to really test what she was capable of let alone trust her abilities. Meg gave me a role model to learn from.

I eventually discovered there were four books about the adventures of Meg and her brothers. I devoured A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I couldn’t get into the adventures of Sandy and Dennys in Many Waters. I am sorry to say they were my least favorite characters in the world you created. The only book of the Time Quartet I didn’t read.

In college, I discovered Meg had a daughter, Polly, when I read An Acceptable Time. I was at another turning point as I was stepping into the adult world. I could relate to Polly just as I had Meg when I was 11.

I recently listened to A Wrinkle in Time on audiobook through my library. It reads just as well at 40 as it did at 11. This time, I was reminded that I still have that unsure girl in me, my own internal Meg, but I also have experience that reminds me I have been tested and that I am strong. I know what I can do and I can trust my skills. I now know my place in this world. Your books helped me make this journey because I could relate to your characters and their challenges. Thank you for bridging that gap so I could grow into who I am today.

Sincerely,

Catherine

The Myth of Independence

September 25, 2021/in Ideas, Life/by Catherine Haslag

The definition of independence, obtained from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

I didn’t get out of bed or drive to work in the morning on my own. An alarm wakes me up. Someone who isn’t me designed that alarm. Someone who isn’t me maintains the power grid that powers my alarm clock. My hot shower is possible because of the water heater in my house, who was designed, installed, and maintained by other people. Austin Utilities provides the natural gas and water and maintains the pipes that bring these resources to my house. Someone who isn’t me constructed the bathroom in my house back in 1955, when my house was built by someone who was not me.

Someone who isn’t me paved the road I drive to work in the car I drive, which was built and designed by Mazda. The City of Austin clears the streets of snow and puts down ice melt and sand to make my trip safer.

The definition of independent, obtained from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

What we do today is possible because of those who came before us, who pathed the way for us. We work together to build the communities and world we live in. None of us live in a bubble. There are people who impact our lives that we will never know. The colleague who encouraged your grandpa on a hard day while he served for 4 years in WWII. The neighbor who motivated your great-great-grandparents to immigrate to a small town in rural Missouri in the 1870s. The philanthropist who made an anonymous endowment to your college provided the funds for the scholarship that paid for half of your tuition.

The lie we tell ourselves is that we did it all on our own. That we earned that scholarship without any assistance from another, nevermind teachers, parents, and tutors helped us with our school work. That we got ourselves out of bed and ready for work without assistance. That we take care of ourselves and no one else does. We are interconnected and dependent on each other in this world. None of us gets anywhere on our own. We were all helped by countless others we will never know in ways we can’t imagine.

Interdependence is how a society functions. There is no such thing as true independence if you live in a society. There is no way to be free of the influence of others when you live around others. It’s a myth we tell ourselves to calm our fears, boost our ego, and help us feel safe.

Night Riding

September 18, 2021/in Biking, Ideas, Life/by Catherine Haslag

One late summer evening, I had the opportunity to take a night ride on my bicycle. Headed home from yoga, with my mat slug across my back, I decided to take the long way. The air was relatively dry for a late-August Minnesota night. The sun had set 15 minutes prior and the street lights were on.

The obnoxious light on my rear bike tire that helps keep me safe during night rides.

There is something special about a night ride. When I walk, I usually have my AirPods in, listening to a book or podcast, and I am playing Pokémon Go. Yes, I am a 40-year-old-grown-ass-woman who plays Pokémon. Go team Mystic! Since I am on my bike, my AirPods are out and my phone is secured in my bag. Riding gets my full attention.

The songs of crickets and cicadas become my soundtrack. The lights from the cars and street lamps cast ever-changing shapes on the pavement around me. I look down between my pumping legs and see that obnoxious light spin in and out of my vision on my back tire, each time a different hue of the rainbow.

I see pockets of the world in the darkness. The shape of a tree against the darkening sky. The dimly lit front stoop of a home. The flashing bubble-gums of the county mounty who caught himself a speeder along Oakland. I let this different world surround me, embrace me. There is a stillness that comes with night riding and I open to it. I feel the cool pockets of air on my skin. I enjoy the intimacy and privacy that comes with darkness.

My eyes catch the first “star” in the sky as I turn towards home. Jupiter is bright and hovers above, guiding me back to the land of lamps and light.

Turning Points

September 11, 2021/in Ideas, Life/by Catherine Haslag

Image purchased from iStock by Getty Images.
Designed by nazlisart.

I woke up to the conversation on the radio. In my bleary state, I heard the voices say two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City. I was instantly awake and across the apartment to turn on the TV. The scenes were horrific. Straight out a disaster flick starring Bruce Willis. Moments later, the South Tower collapsed. I quickly showered and dressed for my day. Before I left my apartment for the Southwest Missouri State University campus, the North Tower Collapsed.

I canceled everything for the day and was glued to the TVs on campus and in apartments with friends. Silence and disbelief filled every space.

I sat with friends at their apartment in the afternoon and watched as Dan Rather aired a video for the first time showing people jumping from the buildings prior to their collapse.

I witnessed the wreckage of Flight 93, which passengers forced down in a field in Pennsylvania. Later, It was determined the plane’s likely final target was in Washington DC.

I observed the crumbled side of the Pentagon, where Flight 77 crashed into the building.

I heard the phone calls made by loved ones on the four planes the crashed that day. All sending one last message of love.

For the following year, there were cars everywhere sporting the American flag, Toby Keith and Alan Jackson played on repeat on country stations, and the U.S. collectively mourned the 2,996 people who died on that day in the towers and crashed flights. We were united in our grief and patriotism.

In a matter of minutes, we all lived in a different world. One that grew to include Homeland Security, full-body scans, no-fly lists, and a whole new meaning to the numbers 9 and 11.

In March of 2020, another major event struck the world – the Coronavirus.

All of the college classes I taught went online. Employees and students were sent home to help stop the spread.

Social distancing. Lessons on handwashing. Teams of sewers making masks out of every scrap of fabric they could find.

Zoom became the place to meet for class, meetings, and happy hour. Some of the world made a shift to baking bread at home, wearing PJs or yoga pants for everything, and drive-thru grocery pick-up. Alcohol sales skyrocketed.

Again, the world changed quickly and will be forever different. Finding the “new normal” was a common topic of conversation. Some accepted this reality, others chose to deny it.

Rather than coming together as we did nearly 20 years earlier when the towers fell, we split into groups. Maskers and anti-maskers and eventually vaxxers and anti-vaxxers. People who listened to the experts and believed what science was learning and people who didn’t. Conspiracy theories and misinformation spread faster than the virus thanks to social media.

The turning point we are facing now is more than a virus. More than masking, vaccinations, and the changing way we move and work in the world. We no longer agree on reality. We live in different news bubbles, worlds driven by whatever we chose to take as fact even if it’s really a falsehood. Lives where we get to deny reality because it makes us feel better, even if that denial kills others.

The turning point we face now is the division in our society. It’s an internal threat that can’t be addressed by invading another country. It has to start within each of us. We are our own worst enemies now. We are the hijackers, the terrorists in our nation. We are also the healers, the uniters if we so choose to be.

The question then is “Which do you choose?”