Patterns One: Heart Beat

One of the patterns that is at the very center of our lives is the beat of the heart. Yesterday, I had a stress test in prep for surgery next week and I was surprised by how changeable it was. I have always thought of it as a very steady beat like a metronome. But as I sat perfectly still having images of my heart taken, my heart was steady and slow as I exhaled, and then speedier when I inhaled. And in a doctor's office far north of the city, sitting in room after room for solitary tests that took fifteen minutes at a time, in a hospital run by folks who seemed to care only about the expensive equipment they were running (ugly ugly rooms, with old broken things heaped on counters at the edges of rooms, no art anywhere to speak of, the only thing breaking up the expanse of drab cream colored walls that I had to stare at interminably were wide cracks in the plaster), I had a lot of time to focus on my beating heart.

Boring, grim stuff. . . but then in the middle of that boredom, I remembered the story of Ann Druyan's part in putting together the Voyager Golden Record for both Voyager 1 and Voyager 2. She was part of a group of scientists (including, of course, Carl Sagan), who selected music, speeches, and sounds to record and then send into space as a representation of humankind. Heady work. And during the course of that work, she fell in love with Sagan--and him with her. Nearing the end of the project, they admitted their love for one another by getting engaged over the phone. Before their first date. Before even their first kiss. They just knew.

A few days later, Druyan was having all of the electrical impulses of her body recorded and converted to sound to include as a human physiological orchestra to include on the Voyager Golden Record--her heart beat, brainwaves, breathing. . . But those sounds were also the sounds of a woman in the new flush of love. And that's the record of human life that we have sent into the void in the hopes of intelligent life finding it and knowing us.

Bach, Brahms, Beethoven and the heart beat of a woman in love.

There's a pretty great piece about this in the Radiolab archives. It's a story that makes me teary-eyed every time I hear it. And it was a comfort to me yesterday while listening to the beepings of machines and staring at blank hospital walls.

Patterns

I think we all know that life hands us lemons from time to time. I think we also know that it's our job to do our best to turn those lemons into lemonade. Well, I'm having a rough week. And I imagine a few tough ones to come.

So, I've decided to think about patterns. Our lives are made of patterns--large and small--the patterns of our daily lives scheduled around family or work. The patterns of sounds we hear in the tiny worlds around us (i.e. I can expect 9 months out of the year to hear the kids at the school bus stop on the corner in the mornings chattering their ways into their mornings or during the summer months to hear the ice cream truck and its happy/sad clown song to wend in soft and loud concentric circles around the neighborhood streets calling out to children). The patterns of the growing season--berries and asparagus in the spring, tomatoes and squash and peppers in the summer, apples and winter squash in the fall. Or small things--like the patterns of footsteps of the people we love and knowing which one of them is coming by the sound of their particular pattern of footfall before they appear in your doorway. And on and on. . .

And so, posts for a few days (or longer?) about patterns to help me get over the hump. Maybe you, too? That would be nice. . .

Chicago Tourist

Dan's mom is in town this weekend. I love having people visit, because it reminds us to be tourists in Oak Park and Chicago. And since the last two days have been gorgeous--mid-70's and blue skies as far as the eye can see--it's been an extra delight.

Dan took Mom to see Frank Lloyd Wright homes yesterday. Today, we took the train in to the city to see the Millennium Park and the Art Institute--and took an impromptu side trip to the Cultural Center along the way.


the world's largest Tiffany dome. . . in my town!



That's Susan and me a little right of center, reflected in the Bean. I have on a red top with my hand up in the air.


This was Susan's favorite building, the pointy roof on the right. There's a wide porch at the top of the building covered by striped fabric awnings that were rippling in the breeze off the lake. Susan and I have decided to purchase the penthouse, and then you can come and visit next summer!




Noon time concert in the park. The band was half-surf rock band and half klezmer band.



Lurie Garden in all of its summer glory.



This building on the northside of the train on the way home. Abandoned industrial building covered in festive graffiti that almost made it look like something was happening there. An urban circus?

Anniversaire

Daniel and I have been married for six years--as of a few weeks ago. This has been an odd and busy late spring-early summer, so we celebrated off schedule when time permitted. It's our day, after all, so we celebrate as we see fit.

I almost argued for end of summer, after my surgery and rehab, when we could literally do anything at all. . . but then friends were playing at Space and we got a taste for tapas and the small gifts had already been purchased. . .





Happy 6th, D! I feel lucky every day.

small yard

Dan and I have a tiny urban bungalow yard. But I have big gardening dreams--in which I manage to have both beautiful flowers, interesting foliage plants, and produce loads of food to eat all summer long. It's hard to fit all of those big hopes into one small yard, and while I'm not quite successful yet, with the help of container planting and some vertical growing, I am fitting a fair amount in.




Herbs: sage, oregano, parsley, tarragon, rosemary, basil, dill, cilantro, and chives (and unwanted invasive mint)

Veg: 4 kinds of tomatoes, serrano chilis, thai chilis, yellow squash, two kinds of green squash, green bush beans, yellow bush beans, some kind of heirloom italian bean, 3 kinds of pole beans (Scarlet, Kentucky Blue, and Hyacinth).

Edible Flowers: Nasturtium (several kinds), Marigolds

Fruit?: rhubarb, six apple trees, though we've only gotten two apples off of them so far.

Decorative plants: iris, magnolia bush, hydrangea, wisteria, hosta (loads--mostly in front of the house), lilac, peony, lilies, lamb's ears, ornamental grass, two evergreen shrubs and three bride's veil bushes.

Now that I write it all down. . . that's pretty impressive. But as I think many gardeners feel, it's still not good enough. I want it to be a bit prettier and I want a bit more variety.

je t'adore

Kid Francescoli's One Moment. Something about this video makes me so happy.

Letty

New to the fivetrees shop today--a brightly colored mouse named Letty.
I lover her tiny noggin and her orange and pink sweater.
I think more things in the world should be pink and orange.

Peony Season

My mama helped me take a divide of one of our ancient peony plants from Carriage House Farms LLC. It's taken them a few years to get accustomed to Cicero, but now I get pretty bouquets! They're especially pretty paired with lamb's ears cuttings.

harinezumi + gardens

Everything looks a little dreamier and more nostalgic through the lens of a harinezumi 2++.

Beans

After a few days of rain intermingled with a few hot sunny days, the beans are coming up. So exciting. I think just germinating seeds are incredibly cute. Is that strange? I hate the idea of "thinning" them and so rarely do. That would be like culling puppies (okay, well, not just like, but. . . ). The tiny plants are so filled with energy and promise. And this year, if I get enough beans, I'm going to can! Dilly Beans! Spicy pickled beans! Watch out!

Summer

It's summer in Chicago. And if you've never lived in Chicago through all four seasons, you might not know that Chicago is the best place in the world to spend summer. We really earn the summer months and we take the season seriously. Everyone bikes and lazes on the beaches and spends long evening hours in Grant Park listening to free live music or playing in the fountains or tangoing/merenguing/waltzing through Dance Chicago. The first warm day arrives and it feels like the population of the city quadruples as everyone pours into the streets to enjoy the weather.

And there is an unusual mix of the everyday hustle and bustle of one of the hardest working cities in the world and a beach geography that juxtapose really beautifully. When I was a kid on vacation at the beach with my parents, there were things we commented on every year that we loved: the seagulls, the seafood, the smell of the ocean, the ocean sky. I get the first and the last all summer long in Chicago--seagulls and their plaintive calls that sound like summer and the vast multi-cloud layered expanse of sky out over the lake to the east and the plains to the west that is just as open and complex as the sky over the Atlantic.

It's nice to settle in to the best season of the year in the best city in the country. . .