Thoughts on Totality

Even knowing a solar eclipse is amazing to see, experiencing it from start to finish was a dumbfounding experience. A literal sign of the heavens, the layers of thought you can relate the experience to rival scripture.

It started with less than a blink, our group struggling to see any deformation of the disk through our glasses. The attention of the children quickly waned after the initial excitement. Over the next hour or so, life went on as usual (as much as it can in a campground field.)

Not until the sun was more than half covered did we begin to notice any changes in our environment. It seemed to dim ever so slightly, but to look at the sun with the naked eye, it appeared as circular as ever. Only when I looked for a split second then closed my eyes did I see the negative imprint of a crescent behind my eyelids. However, one thing I noticed was that shadows cast on the ground were hyper sharp. Close to 75% occlusion I could see individual (frizzy) hairs from my head casting their own shadow.

It began to get noticeably darker about then, with three-fourths of the sun’s light hidden. Even then, it was more a change in tint and hue than darkness, mimicking a light cloud cover. The temperature dropped as well, reducing our early afternoon southern sauna to a pleasant autumn day. The kids started to pay attention once more as the environment changed. Birds had stopped singing by this point, and the bugs (who had been constantly squawking), grew more organized in their songs.

Only when we reached 99% totality did our environment undeniably change. And it happened quicker than we thought possible, having been deceived by the slow and steady pace up to that point. For how slow things had gone up to that point, when darkness fell, it took one second to go from blue sky to stars visible. The sun’s light is so powerful that even 2% can get the job done.

The diamond ring hit, and everyone went bonkers, myself included. Day changed to twilight instantly, the temperature mimicked late evening, and a black hole sun ruled the sky. The corona or “crown” of the sun erupted from the instantly black sun, and it wasn’t what I expected. It’s not uniform, it’s oblong, with unsymmetrical wisps leaping off the sides. And at the middle was a pitch black disk in the sky, darker than any night sky I’ve seen.

Time itself stood still while my brain tried to comprehend what was happening. Torn between soaking up memories of totality for myself, taking a video for my sisters who couldn’t be there, checking to make sure the kids didn’t miss it, and looking at the alien environment created by the hiding of light, it was a hectic and awe-filled 2.5 minutes.

Time restarted with the mirror diamond ring, signaling the return of our ever present Sun. With an inaudible whoosh, deep purple turned to sky blue, stars hid themselves, and the field returned to its terrestrial state. Like the last echoes of a dream upon waking, everything in the world remains unchanged. But you’re changed, still on the high of seeing the most beautiful thing thus far in your existence.  

You know the drive home will be rough, and your car might overheat in the journey, but nothing can take away from you what you got to see.

One peculiar thing I noticed in the days after the eclipse concerned the pictures circulating on social media. It was the most photographed event in history, but I found that the more I looked at the pictures of others, the harder it was to keep separate my personal memories from the pictures in my mind. Furthermore, the more I focused on 2 dimensional pictures from others, the less real the event became in my own mind. Almost as if the pictures were overwriting the authentic experience I had already stored in memory.

Said memories of this glorious event are personally valuable to me, so I had to take steps to preserve the overall experience. I have to revisit the memory in my own mind, taking a little time to remember the temperature, shadows, stars, corona, and songs that go beyond a photograph. It’s easy to see why people chase eclipses all over the world, reproductions of the event pale in comparison to the authentic experience.

There’s also a world of difference in 1%. This celestial sign is a great tutor of the difference between 99% and a total effort, both from the sun’s perspective and our placement on the ground.

It doesn’t matter if you are part of the 99% or the 1%, the payoff comes when you become part of the 100%.

World's Laziest Christmas Card

Yes, it's been 3 YEARS since I posted here. I would say sorry, but it seems so inadequate as to be insulting. I also wanted to do Christmas cards this year, with an update on the family.
Since I didn't get to that either, and my Grinch-atude may have reached critical mass this year, here's a paltry attempt to let everyone know what the Blakely's are up to.

Phil is still working as a network administrator/engineer, and has gone back to school to finish his degree. He was engaged in local politics for a couple of years, and may go back if the existing Republicans in this county stop hating anyone not exactly like them. One can hope.

I have been out of politics for about a year now, but have plans to engage in the 2016 election cycle. I also started a politiculture blog, which you can peruse HERE. I've learned several lessons in my five years with the Tea Party; one of which is that politics attracts the worst people on both sides of the aisle. I understand this is an indictment of myself, and I've made my peace with that.
Teaching Sunday School is another thing occupying my time. I have the 16-17-18 year-olds, which is totally the best class to have. It's as close as you can get to teaching adults without doing so. I think we can all agree that me in primary/nursery is a bad mix.
I have also returned to school to complete my degree. I'm focusing on Communications and Business with a University Studies degree. Basically, whatever degree tells my boss that I can be in charge of stuff is the degree I want. Why? Because politics is horrible. Watching your boss do politics ineptly is soul-sucking agony.

Cortlan is now 15 and is shockingly close to things like driving and voting. Not to fear though, I'm sure he and his small cat army (pictured below) will be fine. In related news, we bought a house an quickly acquired five cats and two dogs. Cortlan has requested that after his death, we sprinkle catnip on his grave so people think he was a cat god of some sort. He'll be a junior next year, which is weird.

Caspian has become quite an artist. She works with pencil, chalk, oils, and watercolors. I have an agreement with her in which I give her money, and I don't have to do all the crappy school projects that elementary schools hoist onto the parents. They really should make the kids do them, but I guess public school reflects American culture. As long as it looks like the commercials, nobody cares if anything good comes out of it. Cappy will be 14 in January, which is also scary close to things like voting and driving.

Rowan is still alive... for now. We're doing what we can for him, but when he comes to my office with a story like, "So, Mom, I was riding my bike with my eyes closed and when I opened them, I was heading straight toward the curb. I tried to turn, but couldn't in time, and when I hit the curb the bike flipped over and I landed on my back in the grass. I said to myself, 'well, that was weird.'" there's only so much we can do. He just turned 9, and was accepted into the gifted program at school recently.

Heston still has a soft belly... and "youngest child" tattooed on his forehead. He's very much the baby, also in the gifted program at school, and is referred to as a "flopper" by the other kids. His vocabulary is quite developed; sometimes I forget it's not normal to have a 7 year-old use words like "legislative, furious, and apocalypse." He's very analytical, which can be (and is) used for brilliance and mischief.

Overall, the family is doing well. Phil avoids the camera like Hillary Clinton avoids honesty, so here's a link to him playing King Benjamin for the primary kids.
Here's the kids...

Here's pictures of our zoo: In order, they are: Davros, Mini-T, Cora, Ashfoot, Toothless, Bunny Wabbit, and Sabine.

Rednecks have nuthin' on us.

On this 4th of July I find myself surrounded by family. Naturally, after 3 hours this drives me to look for things to do on the computer with headphones on. You can now follow me on Pinterest, ask me about canning, and wait for updates on the family lemonade stand.
A few weeks ago all four kids helped me prepare gifts for their teachers, which is to say that they agreed to go with me to the mall to get them. Running out of time and daylight, I began our journey to the needed mall, 45 minutes away.
All was going well until we got out of the car. About 100 feet from the entrance I look back to confirm I still had 4 kids following me to see Cortlan wearing his duct tape hat, filthy shirt and 5 day-old shorts.

This picture was taken weeks later... it's the same shirt.

This mall was kinda swanky, making Cortlan stand out in a rather "southern" way. Cortlan's cleanliness is a different blog post; let's just say that as a 12-year-old boy, clean underwear is a burden.

Unfortunately, how we looked paled in comparison to how we acted.

Walking through the mall, you would have thought my kids grew up in a barn. They went absolutely hog wild when they saw... the...
escalators.

Step aside Six Flags, we got this.

It must have snuck up on them while they were distracted by the food court goodness, but once they saw it, they latched on. Running up, down, trying to ride the mobile banister and using unsuspecting mall patrons as slalom markers.

STAY AWAY FROM THE LAVA!!!!!!!!!!

After pulling them away from their newfangled mecca, I went to the Teavana store to procure aforementioned gift. Looking back to make sure nobody had made a break for the escalators, I saw all four kids crawling over the rental strollers. They mistakenly thought them toys because the carts look like racing cars. Rowan in particular did a great impression of Dale Earnhart... with a docked stroller.
Next on our child-laden episode of the Beverley Hillbillies, I had this idea that the kids would like some ice cream. Now, this mall was ritzy enough that they had a Hagen-Das store in a prime location. I'm a tightwad though and Dairy Queen is much cheaper. We purchased some small cones (it was 8:30pm) and began making our way out of the mall. I should tell you that during this 45 minute excursion into the mall, Rowan had to pee no less than 3 times.
Alas, our fun and games came to a screeching halt 150 feet from the exit, when I realized I had left my $75 worth of tea on the Dairy Queen counter. Desperate times called for desperate measures and I left my filthy, ice cream coated ruffians at a specific mall corner so I could make the run back to the counter in hopes that my entire trip was not wasted. Mercifully the goods were where I left them, but several mall patrons may have vision imparement after watching me and all my fat rolls huff & puff to the Dairy Queen.
We went straight to the car where I drove home in Atlanta traffic to happily ice cream-ed children.

Repeatedly asking them "are you going to finish that?"

Weed of the Day

First off, I have to highlight something normal I did besides engage in petty competition. All of my kids have had great teachers this year and I wanted to do something nice for them. There are so many bad apples in the education system I want to encourage the good ones (please don't get me started on teacher's unions). If that means I have to do something crafty, then so be it. There is this super awesome herbal tea I used to kick my hot chocolate habit and I drove all the way into Atlanta to get some for each teacher. Our trip to that mall is a different post, but it's sufficient to say that we're hicks.

Behold...

Azteca Fire tea from Teavana.

I would like to thank Teavana for helping me not be a horrible parent for 15 minutes.

Now, on to your regularly scheduled program.

Weed of The Day

 Soooooo, it's safe to say the bloom is off the well manicured rose in my long-term relationship with Georgia. Last summer here was considered "warmer than normal" while my family considered it "my face is melting off of my skull."  Also, we didn't have a winter, he had a W---. One of Caspian's Christmas presents was a nice, long, warm coat... that has never been worn out of need.

It's May. Phil in particular is not enamored with climate that can induce heat stroke in a matter of minutes.

There are many other things I've learned in year I've been in the deep south. Since I've already covered all things with more than 4 legs, that bag of creepy goodness will remain on the shelf.

#1. HOA's are in fact, as horrid as everybody says

In less than 8 months, we received the following notices from the Home Owners Association we rent in:
     a. The mulch in our yard was deemed too "brown." The mulch here consists of bales of 5 inch long dead pine needles.
     b. Our yard was not edged properly.
     c.  We failed to get permission to erect a trampoline in the BACKYARD.
     d. Our bushes were not properly trimmed.
     e. There were too many weeds in the cracks on the driveway.

To top it all off, last summer, the yard right next door proudly displayed a sign that read "Yard of the Month." That's right, the childless couple who care for their yard with the same zeal as the rightful owner of Ferris Bueller's Ferarri won that coveted award.

He doesn't drive it, he just rubs it with a diaper.

After my hysterical laughter subsided, I starting wondering if they gave this yard the award as a way of highlighting my failings in yard care. The Nobel Peace Prize Committee did the same thing, just with Obama and G.W. Bush.
I, not wanting to pass up a chance to compete, decided to start my own competition. I give to you the winners below.

And...

I wonder if I'll be cited for unauthorized signs in the yard.

#2. Everyone here is addicted to football.

I was shocked at the amount of bumper stickers, flags on houses, flags on cars, jerseys on kids and other propaganda that is plastered all over the landscape about sports teams. On game day I can drive through any neighborhood and see where American flags have been replaced with said sports team propaganda. This is where I get cynical. While there may be certain bonuses to be had from participation in athletic activities, sitting on a couch managing your chip & dip resources does NOTHING for you. Also, the idea of identifying yourself with a group of people you have never met, worked with, been friends of, or sat in traffic with is delusional and tribal in nature.
People, if you want to feel like you accomplished something, GO ACCOMPLISH SOMETHING. If you are one of the precious few that actually achieve something on merit, my hat goes off to you... You likely are too busy to watch football.
On the other hand, thank you for labeling your tribal mentality, it makes it easier to put what you say in context.

#3. Six Flags is overrated

Last summer we made a rookie mistake. We bought season passes to Atlanta's family destination, Six Flags. I have always loved roller coasters, sudden drop rides, water parks, etc. Having the park so close to me was one of the trade-offs of living in a city.
Oh how wrong I was.
Aside from the walking, (the never ending, child herding walking) The lines are ridiculous for all but the most boring rides. If you have small kids, most of your day is spent walking, standing inline, standing nearby as they ride a looney tunes themed ride, and walking some more. They have a couple of rides with water in the mix, providing some much needed relief. The downside to that is if you partake of said rides, you have to walk around the rest of the day with wet shoes, pushing a stroller loaded with kids who have long since given up carrying their own weight. Add in the ever present heat stroke factor and you have a large pile of misery with $4 water bottles and $10 slices of pizza.

The jewel in this crown of misery is the buffet factor. Since I'm a tightwad, there was this compulsion to go as many times as possible to "get our money's worth." When Phil mentioned that I should take the kids "one last time on a weekday" but couldn't get off work to go with us... well... let's just say I was bitter for a while. 

I am reminded of this mistake every time I pass Six Flags on the way to the airport.

Have a Six Flags Day!

Fun with Wicks and Blame

Confession.
My sister Cassidy has managed to blog for two weeks in a row. I have this need to match her blog posts so I don't fall into yet another abandoned project, that of regular blogging. However, my trip last week to Ohio precluded me from matching her post outright, so I'm hoping she'll be too busy to blog this week, making us even once more.
It should be mentioned that I'm postponing editing a chapter of fiction and writing an article for the Health Care Compact in Tennessee for this blog post, so it's either going to be really good or really bad. That being said, here is the second post in a long line of "Don't let your kids play with the Hodge girls."

Fun with Wicks and Blame

So, when I was about 14 we lived in a house named "Inferno", but not for reasons listed here. (Really, that fire was a totally unrelated event.) I don't know why me, my sister Lauren, and brother Aarel decided to make home made candles but when my mom came home, she told us to take it outside to the fire pit.

Turns out, electric stoves and hot wax don't mix with teenagers.

Neither do fire-pits and grease fires.

We rounded up as much wax as we could from old, banged-up house candles and put them in the pot. This fire got very hot, very quickly. In the name of safety we had a 5-gallon bucket of water standing by in case the fire got out of control... we were responsible pyromaniacs. The wax melted nicely and we started pouring the hot wax into the forms we had ready, these molds consisted of that cardboard thingie in the middle of toilet paper and paper towel rolls.

Made in the U.S.A

Lauren was pouring the wax, so me and Aarel went to the other side of the house to scour the forest for more firewood, leaving her with fireman Solon, our youngest brother.

According to Lauren, she slopped the wax pot while placing it back on the fire, causing the fire to climb into said pot. This caused Solon to take the 5-gallon bucket of water and throw it on the fire.

We didn't know that oil based fires burn hot enough to evaporate the water and cause a huge fireball.
We do now.

On the other side of the house I heard Lauren scream "Noooooooo", a large pop. Then I saw a huge fireball erupt. It must have been over 20 feet high because I was right next to the house and the plume of flame went higher. Running toward the explosion, I was thinking, "That's my sister over there!"

It really did look like this.

Bolting around the house I found Lauren and Solon on the ground, blown back about 5 feet. Solon was missing eyebrows, Lauren had singed hair and the fire was burning much higher than usual. We called abort mission and went in the house, hoping mom didn't see (or smell) the carnage. Later we learned that grease fires need dirt or some other smothering agent... Don't ask where we learned that from.

Our candles didn't look like this.