Pomegranate in Review

“Look at all the life in this," she said. "Every pip could become a tree, and every tree could bear another hundred fruits and every fruit could bear another hundred trees. And so on to infinity." — David Almond, Skellig

In the final weeks of December, I always take time to reflect on the past year and to "plan" for the new by choosing one word to guide my thoughts and observations. In 2019, my word was "wonder." In 2020, I chose "focus." In 2021, my somewhat enigmatic word was is "pomegranate." Read why here.

My pomegranate-inspired wish was that 2021 be a year …

  • of good health -- of healing of bodies, minds, and hearts.

    • I am so grateful to have remained healthy throughout the pandemic. In March, I was fully vaccinated. I felt a new sense of hope that I’d be able to spend more time with family and friends and perhaps even travel again. I received my booster on October 1st, yet somehow as 2021 draws to a close, I feel less hopeful than I did a year ago.

    • Also in March, I started rowing. I rowed nearly every day and included yoga on the days when I didn’t row. By Thanksgiving, I had rowed 1,000,000 meters and look forward to doubling that 2022.

  • of potential -- I vowed to contribute, to create, to make (or to quote my alma mater "to be") the difference.

    • I promised to document “the messy journey” and while I did continue to post photos and musings here on my blog, I felt somewhat less inspired this year. Perhaps it was due to not traveling or perhaps it was because I didn’t participate in a photo challenge for the first time in ten years. I think I need to revisit this idea.

    • While I continue to work in a profession that has always empowered me to contribute my time, abilities, ideas, and compassion, for the first time in 28 years, I have begun to question whether I really am still “being the difference.” How is it possible that the 2021-2022 school year could be more challenging than the previous year? I hope that second semester will be better than the first.

  • of abundance -- an abundance of blessings, hope, and joy, and inspiration in the ordinary and the extraordinary.

    • Despite the challenges that 2021 brought, I am truly grateful for so many blessings — for time with loved-ones; for an especially loving beagle who makes me smile everyday; for a home that I have worked to make even more comfortable and beautiful this year; for recognizing and capturing the beauty that surrounds me; and, most of all, for another year to try again.

Tomorrow, I’ll reveal my word and plan to guide me through 2022.

1 MM

“The biggest commitment you must keep is your commitment to yourself.” — Neale Donald Walsch

I did it! I rowed 1,000,000 meters! Since March 12th, I rowed every day but two when we were out of town. As I approached 1MM, I committed to achieving this goal by Thanksgiving, a day to give thanks for so many blessings, not the least of which is the strength, determination, and commitment that it took to reach this goal. The 20-minute Gratitude Row was the perfect workout for this milestone and as a bonus, the soundtrack included the Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) (IYKYK — “Melinda, Melinda!”). How does that 1MM compare to 500 miles? It’s actually 621.37 miles, about the distance from Delafield, WI to Toronto or the length of Lake Michigan from north to south and back north again!


My Badges: Give Thanks, 1MM, 250 Days, Learn to Row, Race on the Charles, Fall 2021 Commit to Fit, 30 Weeks, 750K, Fitness Builder, A Stroke of Genius (Summer 2021 US Olympic Teams), Beginner Training Camp, 500K, Form Check, Spring 2021 Commit to Fit, 250K, Earth Day Team Workout, 100K, Variety Pack, World Water Day Race, Land and Sea, Team Player, and Wanderlust. Time to earn some more — Bring on 2MM!

Desert Island Discs

“Eight tracks, a book, and a luxury item: what would you take to a desert island? Guests share the soundtrack of their lives.”

Desert Island Discs

3.jpg

Recently, I discovered the podcast archives of the long-running BBC series, Desert Island Discs. Introduced in January 1942, the program asks a well-known person, “If you were to be cast away alone on a desert island, which eight gramophone records would you choose to have with you?” The series now comprises more than two thousand episodes, available on iTunes and other podcast streaming services.

In March 2020, as the COVID-19 lockdown forced most of us into another form of isolation, The New Yorker ran this article about Desert Island Discs asserting that “music has become intertwined with the entirety of our lives... But maybe our listening choices also communicate something about the world we hope for…[since] a song is an infinite spiral of memories and associations.”

I thought it might be fun to cast myself away à la Desert Island Discs and ponder my own choice of eight recordings (in no particular order), one book, and one luxury item:

  • Linus and Lucy by Vince Guaraldi — I have been devoted to Charles Schulz’s Peanuts comics and TV specials since I was a little girl. Vince Guaraldi’s cool jazz soundtrack is perfectly nostalgic yet still feels fresh. And of course, being a beagle, Snoopy would remind me of my sweet Piper.

  • In the Mood by Glenn Miller — Growing up, my mom and dad often listened and danced to big band music. I also loved dancing with my dad at family weddings and functions. He made made it seem so easy. I only wish I had really learned to dance without his lead.

  • In My Life by the Beatles — This was the family dance at our wedding. Sadly, my dad passed away nine years before I got married, but my wonderful godfather walked me down the aisle in his stead. (How many girls can say that they were escorted by a King on their wedding day?) Rather than skip the traditional father/daughter dance, we danced as a family to this song that reminded us of all of our loved ones — those who were there to celebrate with us and those who we missed on our special day. On the island, “In My Life” would remind me of those I left behind — “In my life I've loved them all.”

  • La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf — Whenever I would hear this song, I could close my eyes and imagine being in Paris. You can keep your sunshine, white sand, and palm trees. I prefer Haussmannian architecture, ornate bridges, chestnut trees, and, of course, one spectacular, sparkling tower.

  • Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes by Jimmy Buffett — My favorite verse of this song combines many of the things that I would miss most if my change of latitude placed me on a desert island: “I think about Paris when I’m high on red wine. I wish I could jump on a plane. So many times I just dream of the ocean. God, I wish I was sailing again.” I love these lyrics despite their lack of appropriate subjunctive conjugation. I wonder if a change of latitude would also change my insistence on proper grammar; probably not.

  • Variations on the Kanon by Pachelbel — George Winston’s version of Pachelbel’s baroque classic is simply breathtaking. I cannot begin to articulate how this song makes me feel.

  • These Are Days by 10,000 Maniacs — “These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this and as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.” This song immediately takes me back to Marquette — to friends, reading literature, studying, and sailing. I want to always remember that I am indeed blessed and lucky.

  • Sweet Dreams, Melinda by Trey Anastasio — “Roses float across the water and the ice is slowly melting next to you. In our hideout down by the boathouse, lonely days are through. 'Cause when you walked into that room I'd never seen two eyes so blue. Sweet dreams Melinda….” It’s like this song was written for me and I think it would be comforting to hear my own name.

After describing all eight songs, the host of the program requires the castaway to ultimately choose just one track. I would have to pick George Winston’s Variations on the Kanon by Pachelbel. The fact that I can’t explain why or how this song makes my heart sing is the reason for my choice.

As for my one book, besides the proffered complete works of Shakespeare and the Bible, I would take Gift from the the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s poetic meditations on youth and age; love and marriage; peace, solitude, and contentment as illustrated by the various seashells that wash upon the shore.

Finally, for a luxury item, if there were such a thing, I would take a solar-powered iPad Pro to take photos, write, edit, and otherwise tap into my creativity.

OK, that’s my episode of Desert Island Discs. Now it’s your turn.

Lucky Girl

"Count your age by friends, not years.” - John Lennon

Flowers from Nan.jpg
Collage.png

Thanks you for making me feel very special on my birthday! I had a lovely day!

Week 52 - Storytelling: Self-Portrait

In the first week you took a self-portrait and told us who you think you are. To finish this off, shows us who others think you are.

Beagle mom, photographer, sailor, traveler, francophile, collector of vintage cameras, educator, reader — C’est moi! #dogwoodweek52 #2019dogwood52 #dogwood52

Beagle mom, photographer, sailor, traveler, francophile, collector of vintage cameras, educator, reader — C’est moi! #dogwoodweek52 #2019dogwood52 #dogwood52

Week 28 - Storytelling: Your Culture

“The role of culture is that it's the form through which we as a society reflect on who we are, where we've been, where we hope to be.” - Wendell Pierce

#dogwoodweek28 #2019dogwoodr52 #dogwood52 #reflection

#dogwoodweek28 #2019dogwoodr52 #dogwood52 #reflection

In reflecting on this week’s prompt, this part of a poem I wrote a few years ago came to mind (You can read the full version here).

For the first year of my life, I didn't have a name: I was Jane Doe. A year later, I was adopted, chosen, given this name: Melinda Marie Larson.

  • Melinda: gentle, sweet

  • Marie: the French variant of Mary "Star of the Sea," A name for a girl who grew up on the water, for a woman still most content upon it. I was named for my maternal grandmother. I was named for the Blessed Mother.

  • Larson: A noble surname, ethnic and geographic, “Son of Lars,” Scandinavian for Lawrence — a laurel, fragrant, ever green, a wreath to adorn the heads of heroes...I am child of noble victors, of Door County Scandinavians.

My name is the gift of my culture.