Category Archives: Quail Mutterings

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #44. The Digital Age (January 2017)

Posted on by

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #44. The Digital Age (January 2017)

We all have our strong suits. For me, it’s definitely NOT technology. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve been born into the wrong era. I like Model-As. The engine design is straightforward and strictly mechanical. If something fails it does not have to be hooked up to a computer for analysis. Usually, the repairs could be made with what the owner had stashed in the shed: baling wire, nuts and bolts, gasoline for cleaning parts. I also prefer windows that open to air conditioning; book research as opposed to surfing the web; and not being available 24/7 for countless, often unnecessary interruptions.

I prefer to live my life as real experiences, things I can sink my teeth into, rather than vicariously participating in random, unchosen forays. I realize in my wording of this that my biases come through, and it’s a little sad. Sometimes I feel like I’m left farther and farther behind in a culture that spends so much time transfixed to a device.

“Hello! Is there anybody REALLY out there?” At times it’s a little lonely.

Unfortunately, for folks like me, writing in this day and age absolutely requires an online presence. I’m alright spending “some” of my time on a device making that happen, but not as much as necessary to reach an audience. My computer skills are gradually improving, as is increasingly mandatory, but not adequately. I’m realizing that my happiness diminishes the more time I spend attempting to promote myself online. Therefore, I have decided to invest a little money to have someone else help out. The younger generation doesn’t seem to mind these tasks as much as I do and they possess a faster learning curve in this field than me. It was a long time in coming, but it feels like the right decision for me.

Click the image or the link to view the Facebook pages mentioned in this post. https://www.facebook.com/gnomewoodcanyon

In the short time she’s been involved, Mercy has rebuilt my website, created a business Facebook page, and coached me, tiny step by tiny step, dragging me kicking and screaming, into the modern age. I’m in over my head, concerning the technical details of “existing online.” Being such a troglodyte, I’m not even fully aware of everything she’s doing on my behalf. That is partly the beauty of it. I learn this stuff on an “as needed” basis. Perhaps, as intended, I can now spend more of my quality time actually writing instead of telling everybody about my writing and tweeting about myself. Moving on…

I sit here today in an elementary school library at a table with three children who are typing vigorously into their Chromebooks and two who are working independently on worksheets. They will tell me when they need help on their work that they’ve been sent out of their classroom to do. I’m finishing up a half-day substitute job, staying for my required number of hours, supervising their independent study time. So I write, modeling constructive behavior while making it clear that I am available to them.

These kids have been born into a new age where they must be willing and able to spend their life-blood researching, reporting, and staying connected on their digital devices. I’m glad that my time began earlier, in the last century. A lot of my writing begins free-hand, pen on paper, sitting outside or in the car waiting or here at school in-between tutoring sessions. Sometimes, I now type my ideas directly into the computer. I’ve learned to do it both ways. I have at least three or four literary projects going at a time which keeps my interest alive. But now, it’s nearing the end of my sub-job day and I can’t wait to go home and take a hike. Time to go outside and play!

 

 

Chi Varnado is a contributing writer for The San Diego Reader. Her memoir, A CANYON TRILOGY: Life Before, During and After the Cedar Fire and her children’s book, The Tale of Broken Tail are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com.

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #43. The Ants Go Marching (December 2016)

Posted on by

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #43. The Ants Go Marching (December 2016)

I think we humans are a lot like ants. Like them, we all spend an awful lot of time moving stuff from one place to another. In fact, this activity seems to occupy most of our waking hours. Mail is sorted into various piles or the recycling bin. Food gets pulled out of the refrigerator or cupboards and combined into meals. The act of shopping transports items from the store to home to the appropriate storage areas. On a different scale, yard work just moves bigger things. We rake leaves into mini mountains and cart them somewhere else. No longer needed or wanted items are carried off to pawn them onto someone else or donate to a charity. Remodel, add-on, spruce it up. As a lot, we big-brained, bipedal, opposable thumbed primates are not satisfied unless we are shifting stuff around.
When we travel we take our stuff with us. At least the things we think we might need. Earlier this month Kent and I went to Florida for ten days. And yes, we took our fair share of stuff with us. Being cheap, and frugal, we each only took one small, free, carry-on suitcase and a backpack. It’s enough. In fact, I’m sure we could whittle it down even more, but we don’t travel enough to not have to reinvent the wheel every time we pack. It doesn’t seem to matter if the getaway is a month, a week, or a few days. We each still pack the same small suitcase and backpack. Like the ants, we are creatures of habit.
Neither of us had ever been to Florida before. Kent was interested in running in the USATF National Club Cross Country Championships and had, by the way, talked me into racing there also. Unfortunately, I had a migraine that day and therefore did not run. His team ran quite well with the older men placing second for their seventy and up age division. That weekend was at the tail-end of our trip.
The first weekend we visited Key West, a beautiful tropical island located at the most southerly tip of the United States. The lush green landscape was not as bug-infested as I expected. Yes, I had toted a semi-natural bug spray all the way from California, but had used very little of it. Our son-in-law’s parents own a house there and we were fortunate to spend a couple of days with them. One morning, we ran a few miles barefoot in the deep sand on the beach since we couldn’t find any long dirt roads. Perhaps this is due to the development of marsh areas into people-friendly, non-muddy spaces. I was not interested in running on any more pavement.
Our next stop was the Everglades where we took a small boat and explored the mangroves getting up close and personal with alligators, crabs and tropical flora. A highlight was watching a mother alligator doze in the sun, half in the swamp water and half out. She was surrounded by a dozen or so squeaking little baby alligators who were swimming or crawling on the bank. When we were boating around the Ten Thousand Island area dolphins played in the craft’s wake, following us for several miles.
Cruising along the interstate, heading northward in our little rental car, I was again reminded how much like ants we really are. At least they all seem to follow a similar path. While we humans travel along all scattered-like, when viewed from an airplane, we appear to be marching along the well-worn ant highways.
A stop in Gainesville to visit my aunt was our next destination. It felt good to visit. I suppose it was the last time I’ll ever see her. The impermanence of everything strikes me every so often and pulls me down. Then it’s time to resume ant-like activity. Get up. Take an apple from the refrigerator and eat it with almond butter. Go outside and move firewood from one of the heaps in the yard and pile it on the front porch. Keep marching!

Chi Varnado is a contributing writer for The San Diego Reader. Her memoir, A CANYON TRILOGY: Life Before, During and After the Cedar Fire and her children’s book, The Tale of Broken Tail are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com.

 

2

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #42. Stretching Out (October 2016)

Posted on by

QUAIL MUTTERINGS #42. Stretching Out (October 2016)

6

I’m actually stealing away for about half an hour or so during a prep period in a substitute teaching job. It’s rare, but when this happens I seize the opportunity to write. I feel fortunate today that I get to be outside most of the day overseeing PE classes out on the track. At least I’m not cooped up inside behind closed doors under florescent lighting. Carpe diem!
This weekend was bitter-sweet for me as our youngest flew the nest. Again. For a mom, each time this happens it creates a tug on the heart strings even when I know that it’s for the best. First, his coming and going during college breaks; and then, returning home after graduation. Working locally, it made sense for Chance to live at home and pay rent. Almost a year-and-a-half later he’s moving down the hill, to the city, to live with his sister, Kali, and her family. This will help them with their mortgage and he will be closer to the kind of energy that seems to fuel a millennial’s psyche. Logically, it’s a win-win for everyone and I know it’s what he needs. But I still have to go through my own grieving process as Chance moves out yet again. However, this time feels more permanent.
Milo, our big yellow cat, will miss him too. He’s used to Chance carrying him around outside on the porch for a shoulder ride, almost daily. For an inside kitty this is a special treat. I’ll miss the little unexpected connections we share. Just the other evening we watched three deer frolic on the hillside. We’ve often seen a big doe wander through the front yard and stop for a drink from the water trough fountain. At dusk a bobcat’s whisper-bark grabs our attention. A few nights ago I woke to a coyote’s yipping just outside the bedroom window. In the mornings, pre-dawn, as we are all up by then, the owls serenade us in the last hours of darkness. I’m grateful that I’m not moving to the city.

(One week later: During the next sub job’s prep period)
Chance isn’t the only one stretching his wings. I, too, am trying to reach beyond the usual parameters of my life. It had been a year of not hearing back from a literary agent who had agreed to re-read a manuscript I’d written, if I reworked it as to her suggestions. When I’d mailed it I had included a self-addressed, stamped envelope for her response so I should have at least gotten that back. I finally got up the nerve to call the phone number for the agency and, after punching the numbers for the appropriate prompts, I actually reached her. In person! She had moved her office and had not received all her mail so she gave me the new address so that I could send it again. I’m not keeping my fingers crossed, since the likelihood of actually getting picked up by a New York agent is next to nil, but I had at least followed through to the best of my ability. I’ve done what I can.
My husband, Kent, is upping his game too. He is going to run in the USATF National Club Cross Country Championships in Florida, this December. He’s joined a team of seniors to race together in Tallahassee. My spouse has found a new niche with these guys. He looks forward to the races where they share fun camaraderie afterwards no matter how they have placed. And, of course, he still runs a million miles every morning.
We’re looking forward to our adventure in Florida. We’ll probably visit a few relatives, speckled throughout the state, during the week leading up to the competition. Neither one of us has ever been to the Everglades so we plan on checking out the swamps and coastlines in that area as well. There’s always something to look forward to when you shake up your routine every so often. It feels good to spice things up a little and add to the old memory banks. We’re trying to do these kinds of things while we still can.

Chi Varnado is a contributing writer for The San Diego Reader. Her memoir, A CANYON TRILOGY: Life Before, During and After the Cedar Fire and her children’s book, The Tale of Broken Tail are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com.