FrenchKate

August 12, 2020...An island in MN

My last post on FrenchKate was three months ago, May 15! Preoccupation with the endless pandemic shut-in and compelling family concerns have rightly trumped French history and culture for this time. It truly is a paradox: I have scarcely left the house for the past five months, yet the days have slipped away. 

In any case, I also hope I can pick up my daily FrenchKate writing habit. 

Last week, however, we left home for our island; achieving the most socially distant vacation imaginable. The weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold, the breeze gentle, the bugs few. We cleared dead underbrush, mowed the lawn, cleaned the cabin and washed the windows...and in the afternoons, we sat and read or admired sunsets, the orange full moon and migrating pelicans that spent nights on our rocks on their way south.

December 30: Happy Christmas, 2019

A bit late, but Happy Christmas to all!

Tomorrow, back to Lyon and reviewing our November trip to France.

August 22: Digression--the Homestead National Monument prairie

The Daniel Freeman homestead, the first homestead granted under the Homestead Act of 1862, was sold to the National Park Service by Freeman's heirs in the 1930s. It was the height of the dust bowl, and what had once been tallgrass prairie had been plowed under, exhausted and eroded after years of heavy agriculture and grazing. The NPS began restoring approximately 100 acres of tallgrass prairie in 1939. The project is ongoing, the second oldest in the USA, and some of the research is done in conjunction with Michigan Tech (my son's alma mater.)

According to the Homestead website, "the restoration was accomplished through a combination of seeding a mix of native grasses, installation of native plant plugs, and transplanting sod from local areas of unploughed prairie. Management for exotic species has involved mowing, selective herbicide application, and, beginning in 1970, prescribed burning on a regular basis." In nature, evidently, prairies are refreshed through burning every five to ten years.

The goal--to restore the tallgrass prairie of presettlement times--is a monumental one. Today, plants found on the restored prairie include grasses such as big bluestem, little bluestem, Indiangrass, switchgrass, and flowers such as goldenrod, milkweed, aesclepias, field pussytoes,leadplant and sunflowers. Interestingly, the Homestead prairie includes a .75 acre plot of unplowed virgin tallgrass prairie which was used as a school playground for nearly a century, but today contains the greatest diversity of species in the park.  

Anyhow, it is beautiful.

August 22--thanks modern technology! The Eclipse that we saw

...Different commentators, however, but here is a video of the eclipse that we saw:

August 22: The eclipse was a 10 out of 10

Scattered showers, clouds. Gulp. Eclipse 2017 was promising to be a dud in southeastern Nebraska.

 

Then, wow, the clouds parted.The eclipse had begun. We could see that the moon had begin its transit, taking a little bite out of the sun. And then the clouds covered the sun again.

 

Then, again, the clouds parted, excitement, and we could see that a little bit more of the sun was covered. This breaking through happened multiple times. It was like still photography-flash, flash, flash-of the stages of the eclipse. The light was becoming bizarre, neither twilight nor cloud-shadowed, and the clouds near the sun were chiaroscuro. The light was breathtaking.

 

A minute before totality was due to start, the clouds again covered the sun, and we all thought, okay, that's it. Sigh, disappointment...and then, right before totality, the covered sun broke through, and we saw Bailey's beads-- a phenomena I had only heard of the day before--and, then miraculously, for the duration of totality, the eclipse was visible. We took off our glasses and with our own eyes beheld the moon-covered, haloed sun. The reddish corona. The temperature dropped four degrees, and Venus came out. It was not as dark as I expected. The darkness and hush was that of a cloudy snowless December night. The crowd was jabbering and shouting with excitement. “Look at that, everybody,” said Bill Nye ( the Science Guy.) “You may never see this again in your life.”

 

The NASA scientist--this was her first eclipse--was onstage, almost sobbing, "this is why I became a scientist!" Bill Nye, the Science Guy, quietly reminded us to put our glasses back on when instructed. "The thing about an eclipse," he warned, " is that you can't pull your eyes away." I felt tears running down my cheeks.

 

Countdown, 3-2-1, glasses back on--and just before my glasses were in place, the diamond ring. Then, the clouds rolled decisively back, and our eclipse was done. Bill Nye reminded us that the moon still needed to leave the face of the sun, so the eclipse wasn't actually over, but the crowd began to pack up and move out. Tom and I waited and waited, however, hoping to see more, but the clouds were done with peek-a-boo. We went for a walk on the prairie instead, and, like Mary at the Nativity, we kept all these things and pondered them in our hearts.

 

Was there a word to describe the experience? "Awesome," in its original meaning, awe-inspiring. Some people said "spiritual" and "religious"--I find these terms trite although I have had to summon religious references to try to communicate profundity. "Marvelous?" "Fantastic?" "Powerful?" "It was...neat," said the young woman who offered us a lift back to Beatrice. Sometimes words are inadequate.

 

I realized that l had had a hope that was disappointed. I had hoped that sharing the eclipse would somehow create a sense of bonding, of community, for the strangers gathered there, some consciousness of a larger cosmos and higher purpose, but it remained a private, personal experience. Maybe the eclipse will take time and sharing of stories to make sense. Maybe it was a narrative, or a metaphor, that has not yet been fully expressed. Or maybe seeing the eclipse will have no further meaning, just serve as a powerful exception to our individual daily rounds. 

August 22: Digression--An adventure to see the 2017 total Eclipse, part 1

My husband and I drove to Beatrice, Nebraska, (pronounced Be-AT-ris, not Be-a-tris) to see the total eclipse of the sun on August 21. It was a last minute decision, and we were incredibly lucky to find a last minute AirBNB accommodation in Beatrice. It was just an empty duplex, but shelter when all motel rooms and campsites were booked as far away as Omaha. So we packed as if we were going to be camping for three nights--cots, pillows, towels, food--and headed south. It wasn't quite "Oh, Pioneer," but it was my version of it.

We had dinner at a very nice local restaurant, the Black Crow. Our server, a Beatrice native, stammered shyly, "Something I've been wanting to ask the people who have been coming here, people that I've been waiting on....Why Beatrice?" She seemed astonished that anyone would choose to come to her hometown. I had no good answer. Because I liked the name Beatrice? Because the totality at Beatrice was predicted to be 2 minutes and 34 seconds long. Because the weather forecast clear skies in Beatrice. Because it was only 474 miles from Saint Paul? Because we got lucky with the AirBNB? Because I liked the sound of Homestead National Monument, a national park just four miles from Beatrice? 

In any case, Beatrice and the Homestead turned out to be the place to be, a huge solar eclipse party. The Omaha World-Herald described it as "Woodstock for astronomers." We discovered that not only had the National Park Service and NASA joined forces to put on a major eclipse viewing event--it was one of about a dozen official NASA viewing locations--but our AirBNB proved to be right across the street from the Gage County Fairgrounds--from which buses transported people to the Homestead.

On the 21st, the Homestead grounds bore some resemblance to the MN State Fair--food trucks, first aid stations, 60 porto-potties, happy, excited children everywhere, obese adults in t-shirts and sneakers, musical entertainments (the warm-up act, a Nebraska kids music group, the String Beans, were outstanding, but the headliner was based on a PBS show, "Ready, Jet, Go,"), a Jumbotron, tents selling eclipse swag and handing out solar glasses, exhibits on science, realio-trulio NASA scientists, NPR journalists and the National Park Service in their ranger hats, celebrities (Bill Nye, the science guy; Senator Ben Sasse; a Nebraska contestant from The Voice), all manner of umbrellas, chairs, hats, and shelters-an anarchy of accommodations--as we waited in the sun, surrounded by restored prairie sweet with alfalfa. It was a festive day. 

Bill Nye, the Science Guy, had picked more carefully than us. He said he chose to come to Beatrice because of its flat, almost treeless surrounding (better to see the shadow coming, he said) and also because he is head of the Planetary Society, an organization founded by astronomer Carl Sagan. He and a scientist from NASA provided commentary during the eclipse to a crowd estimated to be 13,000 people. 

Then round 10:30, storm clouds began gathering....uh-oh. Were we going to even see the eclipse? Would we just have stormy skies and darkness?  "There's a technical term for what we are seeing right now," said the NASA scientist who, along with Bill Nye, the Science Guy, was providing commentary, "'clouds.' ...welcome to the world of astronomy."  

July 16: Where to resume?

I have scarcely posted on FrenchKate since the beginning of June, thanks in part to family responsibilities and life transitions. My mother had hip replacement surgery on May 25 (a fantastic success, but demanding of daughterly attention); my daughter and her family moved to a new house on June 30 (demanding motherly attention), and, last but not least, I retired from the University of Minnesota on July 7. My extended family, excited to celebrate this transition with me, descended on St Paul from across the USA so I have spent the first ten days of my retirement in a kind of happy, unscheduled daze. Having spent decades shackled to a 8 AM - 6 PM schedule--with evenings and weekends tossed in for good measure--I now have an opportunity to envision life beyond constraints dictated by time and place. That's a challenge to define the next year. 

Really...I don't have to go back to work tomorrow. That thought keeps startling me.

...and back to FrenchKate. While life has been distracting me, the other factor keeping me from blogging has been the complexity of my latest topic--the 16th century wars of religion. Last Feb 24, I wrote that "I don't know enough about the 16th century French wars of Religion" and getting up to speed has been more demanding than, say, grasping Louis XIV, the Dreyfus affair or World War I. 

I'll let a professional historian, Mack Holt, speak for me:

"Like Michel de Montaigne, perhaps I too ought to have called this book an essai in the original sense; for an "attempt" is about all one can manage in the face of the confusing morass of court factions, countless leading actors and bit players, a seemingly unending series of peace agreements followed by renewed warfare, and the bizarre diplomatic intrigues of nearly every state in western Europe that made up the French Wars of Religion. It is no small wonder, then, that even specialist historians have never found explaining this conflict a particularly easy task. What is a student to make of the problem?"

I'll just second that. Yes, indeed. What IS a student to make of the problem?

For today, I'll just put up two drawings of a woman worth knowing--the big sister of King François I--Marguerite d'Angoulême (by her first marriage) or Marguerite of Navarre (by her second marriage)--and the maternal grandmother of Henri IV. She lived from 1492 - 1549. Painted and drawn by Clouet, of course.

Marguerite's court sparkled, celebrated internationally for its intellectual and cultural brilliance. She embraced the new art, ideas and discoveries of the Renaissance, and flirted with the Reformation. In her lifetime, she was hugely influential. Of her, Pierre Brantôme (a 16th century soldier, historian and biographer whose mother and grandmother were part of Marguerite's court) wrote, "She was a great princess. But in addition to all that, she was very kind, gentle, gracious, charitable, a great dispenser of alms and friendly to all."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sept 14: Big Wig

Louis XIV owned over 1000 wigs, and employed over forty wigmakers at Versailles. He may have started wearing wigs because he was going bald in his early 20s. Nevertheless, it is hard to sort out which came first. Did Louis XIV lead the fashion for wigs or did he gave impetus to the emerging fashion. 

Sept 12: Rugged, relentless and remote

I have had an intense four weeks. First there was husband's surprise surgery. Then my Danish sister's came for a visit, and we went to our 50th high school class reunion. Then there was the final prep and start of the Fall 2016 semester. Then I went to crew for my son who ran the Superior100, a 100-mile ultra-marathon in just over 30 hours. Then, finally, I spent a day visiting with people with whom I went to elementary school--including my childhood BFF--who were in town to celebrate their 50th high school reunion.

So, intense. Not a lot of time to read and integrate French history. 

The ultra-marathon was extraordinary. We-my sister and I--arrived after dark at the Finland aid station, the sixth of thirteen aid stations, and the 50 mile point. We took over for my husband who had attended all the previous aid stations.

The names of the aid stations read like a North Shore poem:

Silver Bay

Tettegouche

Sugarloaf

Temperance

Sawbill

Oberg Mountain

It began raining around 2:00 AM and it poured through the night. The aid stations--lighted with fairy lights--and the volunteers were marvelous.

The first photo gives you a sense of the Crosby-Manitou aid station in the dark--large quantities of food--boiled potatoes, bananas, candy, watermelon, sodas--for the runners to refuel, a fire and chairs to rest and warm up.

In the second picture, you can get a sense of the rain.

The third photo shows the volunteers at the Cramer Road aid station. The rain finally stopped and the sun came out.

The fourth picture shows my son arriving at Termperance River after running 85 miles.

The fifth picture shows the Temperance River, the least of the beautiful country traversed during the race.

The sixth picture shows my son about to leave for Sawbill with a pacer (his friend, Cheryl) who helped him pick up speed on some of the later laps.

The last picture is the photo of the view as one comes out of the woods at the end of the race and races for the finish.

 

 

 

 

Jan 21, 2015: Milestones & numbers

I published my first post on FrenchKate on Jan 11, 2007--that was 2,920 days and 2047 posts ago. So I have averaged about two posts every three days for eight years. My goal is a post a day, but other responsibilities get in the way. I know so much more about French culture and history than I did at the start, but I feel now as if the more I know, the less I know and the more I have to learn.