socializing

Social Distancing. Week 3.

Monday, Mar 30. Day 15

A good day on the farm. Sunny and bright, a little cool. Chicks are growing by the minute, and loving their coop. They’ve learned the ramp, and can put themselves to bed at night (as opposed to me getting the top half of body on the ground into the coop, catching them and putting them “upstairs” under the warming light, one by one).

Baby donk is adorable. A little pastoral shot with mommy:

We have a 3-mile loop on our dead-end country lane, and Eliott and I have made it a habit of walking it daily. It’s rural and I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve met another person walking while we are. Nice for social distancing, one little piece of elevation, so rural there are no lines painted anywhere. It was wonderful to get out and walk it today – it lends itself to long, uninterrupted conversations, as well as a good hour of exercise.

Tuesday, Mar 31. Day 16

Cold and rainy again, but that’s Tennessee spring. It’s convenient when it falls on a day I have to work at my desk, and the end of the month means closing out the old budget and beginning the new.

I’ve modified my plan just a little since my partner got home. I get teased by my kids for my dry-erase, color-coded life, but I’m ok with that. I know all of our minds work differently for how we manage ourselves, and this is what works for me. Back when I was a young mother, I used an old-school clipboard, with a precise schedule for the week’s activities, tasks to do, grocery list, calls to make, etc. Raising 4 children close in age made it necessary, for me, to empty my brain of all of that, so I could be fully engaged and focused on the moment.

So when I share with you the images of this method of management, you’ll understand me a little better.

Daily. Weekly. Monthly. Seasonal. Projects for the yard. Calls to make. Things to do. As soon as it gets written, it goes into the queue of my life, and it moves up the priority until I get to it. More peasy than easy, but you get the drift.

Wednesday, April 1. Day 17

I’ve always celebrated April 1. I know it’s not the equinox, just a day on the calendar, but it’s always been my tradition that it’s a transition day. I think I began the habit before I was tuned in to using nature instead of the calendar, and I’ve just continued it.

My April tasks include filling and hanging the hummingbird feeders, setting out the hammock, putting the outdoor cushion and umbrellas out. It’s still too early to plant my tomatoes and flowers, but I can herald the coming of spring with some of these rituals.

Today was a little cool and still damp from yesterday’s rain, but I pushed forward. The grass is greening by the day, every tree is full of green buds, some with blossoms already, and there’s no doubt the earth is moving.

This lilac smells as delightful as it looks

I suppose that is today’s thought. No matter what our attitude is, no matter how we approach this era in our world/nation/personal history, time will pass. This phenomena will run its course, whatever it is, and we will move on to a new phase. That’s what I mean when I put Take the Long View on my vision board. Someday this will be in the past, maybe even when you’re reading this blog. While there’s no right way to have done it, I hope I did the best I could with the circumstances.

Thursday, Apr 2. Day 18

Now beautiful again. I wonder how different it would have been to distance in another season. We kind of do a winter quasi-hibernation to begin with, which would seem to be a better time, but now at least we can get out and walk and get exercise, so sort of a trade-off. Tomato tomahto.

My honey is still adjusting to being home – walking around the farm, interacting with the animals, walking around the yard. We’ve begun a projects list, and like all of us, he enjoys adding to it and thinking about the sequence. He’s still tying up loose ends at work, so his head is in both worlds. He was working long, busy days before leaving DC, so the adjustment from that to this new pace has him marveling.

My dear friend Darrel Ray lives on a bit of property, and he and I both remarked on a phone call that we’re being more methodical and slow about how we’re getting things done; we don’t want to get all of our projects complete too quickly. We both acknowledged how fortunate to be both on land that inherently ALWAYS has projects to do, and for it to be spring to get out and do them.

Friday, April 3. Day 19

A beautiful spring day on the farm. Today was a day for mowing, tilling, and weeding. And a little chickie-watching.

Saturday, April 4. Day 20

If you’re bored with farming pics, this blog isn’t going to entertain you much. It was another really pretty day on the farm, so it was a day of mowing and tilling. However, it started off with a pretty exciting phone call.

I had ordered and paid for some tomatoes, peppers, petunias, geraniums, and jasmine from our local nursery. They’re still open for business, but we arranged a contact-free pickup, and they called to tell us our order was picked and ready. We drove the old farm truck over, called them when we got there, and they loaded our things right into the truck bed, and off we went back home.

I was thrilled to get my plants, but it was distressing to see all the shoppers at the nursery, unmasked, ungloved, not distancing in the least. I just don’t think Tennesseans are taking this seriously at all. Between Trump’s message, and the soft stay-at-home gentle suggestion our governor made only days ago, they are not grasping the situation.

Sunday, April 5. Day 21

A beautiful sunny day to end the week.

I’ll mix up the farming pics with food pics. We’re eating low carb, as we have for years, and we’re doing daily fasting of about 20 hours a day. We have fatty coffee in the mornings, then have a big meal around 4, and another snack/small meal around 8. In nutrition circles, that’s known as OMAD (one meal a day). We keep a lot of meat in our freezer, so our grocery delivery has consisted mostly of fresh and frozen vegetables. Eliott and I both enjoy cooking, so we take turns.

Meatloaf, cauli rice, green salad, and chaffles

We use our daily walks to talk through our plan, to ensure we understand what we’re facing, to share any news that we have read that the other might not have. We discuss our coping strategies, how to help the children, how we’re managing my parents (82 and 84, distancing together a couple of hundred miles away). It’s been a lovely week, and we recognize how incredibly fortunate we are to be isolating, in such a beautiful place, with the animals, together.

Thanks for reading.

April 5, 2020 0

Social Distancing. Week 2.

Monday, March 23. Day 8

Gah. We need some sunshine. We’ve had a pretty rainy March in middle Tennessee. It hasn’t been too cold, which is nice, but that has resulted in an abundance of weed and grass growth, that no one can mow because it’s too wet! We had a couple of hours of glorious sunshine yesterday, and I was stunned at how warm it felt and how beautiful it was.

I’m committed to getting out every single day, regardless of the weather, so I caught a quick hour walk dodging the rain storms. I really didn’t want to go – like most of you, I was still in my jammies, working around the house answering emails and enjoying the sound of the soft rain. But that’s when I have to rely on my rational brain, not my emotional one, and get dressed and get out. And of course, I’m always glad I did.

Today’s concern was with politics. I didn’t catch Trump’s press conference live, but when I read about it later, I’m just livid. Hinting that we’ll open the country back up in a week or two might be the WORST possible thing we could do. Why would the US be exempt from the pattern we’ve seen in China, South Korea, and Italy? The sooner we get this lockdown going, the sooner we get this under control, and the sooner we can return to whatever will be normal then. There are just not enough words to describe this timeline: we’re facing the most serious national health crisis we’ve ever faced, with the worst leadership we’ve ever had.

Tuesday, March 24. Day 9

It’s not the isolation or the virus that’s going to kill me – it’s the endless, relentless rain. This is normal spring weather for middle Tennessee, and I get mad at it this time every year. Grass is growing, weeds are up, can’t mow in a downpour. Need to weed the beds and till the garden, but it’s a mucky mess (reminds me of Mark Twain’s description of the Mississippi River: too thick to drink, too thin to plow).

So today’s agenda includes all the inside stuff, plus I think I’ll start a puzzle.

Wednesday, Mar 25. Day 10

Went into double digits today for days sequestered. What will life be like when I go into triple? Current reports indicate that our trajectory is going straight up. Today, New York appears to be the epicenter in the US. Washington and Louisiana are very high, and it looks like Florida will be the next hardest hit. Tennessee continues life apace – no state mandates. Schools have been closed but not businesses, and from my local social media,

One of my guidelines is to restrict/limit/manage the flood of information coming in. I try to ration global, national, state, and local news (which, I’ll admit, is a skill I’ve probably needed to develop). I like politics and government, and at other times I read and watch a lot of political news. Since the virus is devouring the airwaves, and because there’s so much anxiety + anger and how we’re being governed now, I’ve cut my consumption down to about 3 hours a day: an hour in the morning and 2 hours in the evening.

Today was a good day, in spite of. Everything. I braved the outside world and took my trash and recycling to the dump. It wasn’t busy, so I didn’t have to dodge a single interaction. I could put my trash and recyclables in their bins without touching anything. I drove straight there and straight home. We have to find our victories.

Then I earned my Community Action merit badge by picking up a bag of trash on the lane where I live. Even if it was rainy and drippy.

Then my chicken coop was delivered! My little guys are growing by the day, and I’ll be glad to get it put together for them.

Then the rain stopped. Glorious glorious sunshine. I jumped on the mower and did a quick cut of the front yard. Oh, the smell of freshly mown lawn in the spring.

Lastly, I had a cocktail party with the leadership team of the nonprofit I work for. Look at these faces. We can get through this, with a little help from our friends.

Thursday, Mar 26. Day 11

Sunshine all day long. What a difference my outlook has been since the rain stopped. 10 days of nonstop rain right over the top of this national crisis, the claustrophobia of being shut in, and the need to get outside was beginning to take its toll on my disposition.

Today, however, was the opposite. I was outside from just after daybreak til just after dark, and it was delicious.

Mowed everything, weeded beds, turned the compost – spring is here (or close enough to feel like it today). I also had a little fun with last year’s grapevine pruning: made a little wreath to add to the garden gate.

Friday, Mar 27. Day 12

Now that the grass is mowed, I have picked out the space for my new coop.

Here’s how it started:

And here’s how it ended:

My little guys are so happy!

It will take a couple of days of training them to use the ramp. So several times a day, I crawl in there and put them up in the brooder, then ~~push~~ gently urge them down the ramp.

Saturday, Mar 28. Day 13

And on Day 13, my honey came home.

My partner has been working in DC, and the company for whom he has been consulting has finally cut everyone loose to go home. They’ve been observing safety protocol, but nothing’s as good as sending everyone HOME.

It resets my calendar back to Day 1 for the incubation period (although not for the distancing ticker), but I’ll take it. We’ll hunker down together here on the farm for the duration. So glad to have my lovey back.

Sunday, Mar 29. Day 14

Today’s weather was stunning. Warm and sunny, birds singing, grass growing – you’d never know there is a global pandemic. Eliott spent the day walking around the farm, getting reacquainted with all the animals, looking at my projects – my amateur fence-building skills, the coop, and a little home repair I’d done in his absence.

We had a delicious dinner al fresco – he grilled the steaks, and I baked the mac n cheese (faux, cauliflower version).

Not a bad week. All the kids and partners seem to be managing, and my parents are complying with all the new rules down in Georgia. I am grateful beyond words to have a warm dry house on a lively little farm to endure this challenging time.

Thanks for reading.

March 30, 2020 0

Good fences and all that

With everything in our nation being as serious as I have ever known it in my lifetime, here’s a little lighthearted DIY about a simple fence.

I live on a little farm in middle Tennessee. 8 acres, with a pond, a couple of barns, pastures, and a huge yard. Lots of room to breathe and roam and spread out. Neighbors just near enough and far enough away. Hard to believe that as much as I love it that I intend to put it on the market for sale this spring. Moving to the PNW to be nearer to my 4 adult children, but that’s a blog for another day.

Anyway, with all of that space, wouldn’t you just know that my favorite place to have coffee or a sunset cocktail backs up to precisely where my nearest neighbors like to have THEIR coffee and sunset cocktail.

I’ve needed for a long time to put up a little semi-private barrier between our yards. It’s not so bad in summer, when all the leaves on the trees fill in and create a visual and noise filter. But in winter. Yikes. No cover at all. Hidee-ho, neighbor.

My partner is off on a consult in Washington DC for a few months, so I’m left to my own devices. I’d love to have this ready for when he gets home and we can have our coffee on the deck in our jammies on a warm spring morning.

Phase I: the planning. The 40′ stretch actually has a fence, an old deteriorated chain link, with wobbly posts, and overgrown with vines and trees. I’ve got to see if I can clear out enough brush and vine to put up a straight length of fence.

83621732_10221336312778168_8325971829042708480_n — All that gotta go

83645083_10221336327058525_3617352994359607296_n — All that gotta go from another angle.

84057611_10221336332858670_3714295036205072384_n — What’s a farm story without a dog?

83454905_10221336341298881_6137148171630936064_n — Or two.

Phase II: The clearing. Clippers. Chain Saw. Hand Saw. Shovel. Rake. Wheelbarrow.

83678984_10221336354819219_3471458190879621120_n — Damn you, old vine elbow that protrudes into my line! And is grown INTO the chain link. MOAR CHAIN SAW!

84141918_10221336373139677_9198059827484426240_n — *sigh* And again. Chainsawing dirt is good for the blade.

83468768_10221336393380183_4433669901864927232_n — Seriously. Such a helper.

84012972_10221336403060425_1083498121385738240_n — Some removal was too tight for the chainsaw.

84744000_10221336471342132_1724212400481107968_n — What’s a fence-building story without a stuck chainsaw? I know this is out of sequence, because it’s after the stock panels are up. I thought I could get away with leaving this one up. Nope.

Phase III: Set t-posts. I’ve decided on an unconventional, shortcut version of my fence. I’m going to construct it of t-posts, stock panels, 1″x4″x8′ uprights, and 4’x8′ lattice panels. Semi-private, but not rude or anti-social. Privacy lite.

83253984_10221336428061050_1630149240854413312_n — Don’t be hatin my old pos farm truck!

Phase IV: Run the stock panels. This will serve as the framework for the uprights and the lattice panels. Attach to the t-posts with a little clippy, easy peasy quick and squeezy.

83894046_10221336449421584_8919393037830848512_n — Laid in, but not clipped. It gets straighter, I promise.

84338083_10221336459221829_4129223988356317184_n — Because none of us can give them enough of our money

Phase V: Attach the uprights. This ended up being the trickiest of all the tasks, because I’m attaching the uprights to the stock panels with poultry-netting staples, small u-shaped nails which have to be hammered into the back, reaching over the top of the stock panel, and with only inches to hammer between the panel and the old chain link.

84190817_10221336491342632_495460993405550592_n — Hard to see, but the space between the old fence and the new is about 8 inches. Plenty of room to swing a hammer.

84633896_10221336502142902_5990564756044382208_n — Here’s a better view.

Final Phase: Set the panels, and watch it grow! This was the most dramatic of the phases, and also the fastest and easiest! Sometimes I joke that Freethought Farm has a second nickname: ZipTie Acres. Those little suckers are handy! I’ll admit if you come see my fence, if you look closely, you’ll see a ziptie or two.

83765754_10221336510943122_7632461432533024768_n — Suh. Weet. Every time.

84349790_10221336520143352_7911289184675954688_n — It’s happening!

83645263_10221336527783543_8040962558103912448_n — A little precision detail work…

84333662_10221336574304706_6367782233184403456_n — Halfway there.

84336353_10221336590745117_3230987129504923648_n-1 — Almost done.

84331661_10221336603825444_3247429192026947584_n — How I Spent My Superbowl Sunday.

Now for an icy mule as I sit and enjoy my deck, now with extra solitude.

I’ll come back and post photos of the mandevilla or jasmine I’ll plant after it vines and blooms.

Thanks for reading!

February 2, 2020 0

RfR Fall Excursion 2019

The peace, comfort, and happiness I saw on so many faces was the truest and most profound gift to me. Thank you, my friends.

The cliche´ “everyone has a story,” was never more true than it was at the First Annual Recovering from Religion Excursion. We had ’em and we told ’em. For many it was cathartic.

Another memorable moment occurred on our last night together. A group of us, accompanied by three wonderful guitar players were singing our lungs and I suspect, our hearts, out. We were in fine form. As someone who loves music, I know! One of our group became emotional. I saw the early stages. The song? A personal memory? I felt it best to leave him alone in his thoughts.

Then, although fighting it, he began to cry. I later learned that the Christian Matrix had dictated that only certain music, played a certain way, was appropriate. This person chaffed at the restrictions and eventually “lost” his music.This very night, at this very moment, we witnessed him finding “his music” again. Part of his freedom to be “ME.” What an extraordinary experience. Would that it be more common for more people.

Having just returned from the first-ever Recovering from Religion Fall Excursion, I am reflecting on the experience in all of its experimental glory. One year ago, we asked: What if we built a religion recovery event around a weekend, in a retreat setting, with therapists and volunteers available, with timely topics related to morality, sexuality, and community, post-religion? Would people attend? Could we build a structure that would be helpful, welcoming, and affirming?

Boy, did we get answers. What a profound, refreshing, and at the risk of sounding overly-dramatic, life-changing event this was.

The setting: the cool mountains of North Carolina in cozy lodges;

the agenda: to create a peaceful space for sharing stories and nurturing friendships;

the presentations: deep dives into religious intrusion and human vulnerability;

the objective: to provide hope and healing to those struggling with doubt and nonbelief;

all came together to create an experience that was greater than the sum of its parts.

On a beautiful fall Friday afternoon in September, where the table was both figuratively and literally set, attendees began arriving: by plane and automobile, checking into cabins, meeting one another, exploring the retreat grounds with its ponds, waterfalls, and bonfire rings. Informal chats began, with the common thread being a history of exposure to religious dogma and indoctrination. Couples, parent and adult child, singles, friends – all working through the awkward first moments of introduction, melting immediately into comfortable conversation, and a tangible sensation of relaxation and acceptance that this was a warm and affirming space to share.

The announcement at the opening about limiting screen time to enhance the weekend was unnecessary – no one wanted to miss a moment. Email, texts, and social media lost their position of priority for a few short days.

The weekend included informative presentations (Why are we vulnerable to accepting unsubstantiated beliefs? How do we reclaim our sexuality? Why do irrational fears of a tortuous afterlife imbed into our brains? How can we live a happy healthy nonreligious life?),

a hike on a small portion of the Appalachian Trail,

guided meditation,

loads of carefully-prepared and beautifully-presented food and snacks,

joyful and hilarious karaoke with our very own Mandisa,

and loads and loads of sharing, talking, laughing, and hugging.

And then, just like that, it was over. It was time to return to our busy lives. The simplicity of that reality belied the progress so many had made. We were not sure when we planned this event where on the spectrum of belief our guests would fall. My conclusion was: almost all of our new friends had done the difficult academic work of examining their religious beliefs, found them wanting from lack of evidence, and discarded them. However, many of them, as do many former believers, had gotten stuck right there. Coming out to one’s family and loved ones, finding and building a community of freethinking friends, deliberating and creating a humanism-based morality were all significant tasks that lay ahead.

It is our deepest hope, as we gave yet another round of goodbye hugs, exchanged contact information, and headed off for all points of the compass, that our guests will return to their lives inspired, informed, and energized to continue rebuilding their lives, free from dogma, cognizant of the relics of indoctrination, and as said by Robert Ingersoll, to stand “erect and fearlessly, joyously, face all worlds.”

To the donors who provided the means,

To Shanon who had the seed of the idea, nurtured the growth, and brought it to life,

To the volunteers who gave of their time and effort,

and mostly to the guests who leaned in and opened up and embraced the offering,

our deepest gratitude.

September 24, 2019 1

Graduation

What a day.

Today I graduated from law school.

I have been thinking about this day literally for 4 years, and in the abstract for over 50.

Graduation for Concord Law School is held at Skirball Cultural Center in Los Angeles. It’s always held on the Saturday following the administration of the California Bar Exam. See an earlier post about that experience.

Beginning with the Thursday night at the close of the test, my large and expanded family began arriving. First on the scene were my twin girls. Amy lives and works in Eugene, Oregon (this, this, and this), and Glenda lives and works in Las Vegas, Nevada (this, this, and this). I was so happy to see their beautiful smiling faces after the 3-day beatdown.

Friday morning was transition day, from the test site in Ontario, California, to the graduation site in Sherman Oaks, California, just outside LA. But first, a quick trip to the airport to get my Steen. Her name is Susan, and we’ve been friends for years. She is as sweet and lovely as I am loud and snarky. I think that’s how we work so well. We share a love of eating well, of reading, and of writing (here’s the link to her column in our local newspaper). She is also a fabulous professional photographer, and produced most of the grad pics here and on my Facebook page.

Steen brought along our friend Flat Emily. Emily and her 2 beautiful babies and ever-loving and patient hubby John live in Murfreesboro. Steen, Emily, and I make up the Ish sisters, which is part support-group, part wine-tasting, picnic-sharing, group-texting, mother-daughter-sister love fest that meets regularly to laugh and cry and share and partay. Emily and the fam cheered me on from Tennessee, and on her Flat Emily stick girlie!

Friday night was the Grad Bash. Because my school is online, our students reside all over the world. The night prior to graduation, our Student Bar Association sponsors an evening at the pub for graduates and alumni. For some of us, it’s the first time we’ve met face to face! And an added bonus for us: a classmate of the girls’ from high school in Tennessee, Kim, who now lives in LA was able to meet up with us!

And this is where Ben and Kirsten (this, this, and this) come in from Colorado!

Back to the hotel where the last of the Jordans arrived – Sam and Jess from Colorado (this, this, and this), and my law school bestie Rosine (this) and her wife Myra from Castro Valley! We must have been partying pretty hard, because evidently we didn’t have time for pictures that night. The next morning brought champagne toasts at 8am and dressing for the ball!

This was without a doubt, one of the most spectacular days of my life. I am so grateful – to Concord for the opportunity to go to law school, to all my professors, to my friends and family for being so loving, and to my honey for being so patient and supportive. I am still so overcome with emotion from the day, I don’t know how long it will take me to process everything. During the weekend, I tried to open my senses and memorize everything – what I was seeing, and hearing, and tasting, and feeling. It’s my plan to take this memory out of storage over and over and relive every moment.

The day was everything I wanted it to be, and so much more. To have my tribe with me for this event, both in spirit and in person, after this long, arduous, gratifying, challenging journey was beyond anything I could have hoped for.

And not to forget my support back home:

Thanks for reading!

March 7, 2015 3

Family swag

I just got home from the most epic-wonderful, non-stop, loud, proud, can’t-get-enough graduation weekend! Oldest son Ben graduated from the University of Colorado last weekend. He may have been the last of the 4 to graduate, but he did it in fine style!

All of the kids have humored their parents and grandparents and have participated in the graduation ceremonies. Since they all attended large universities, the graduations were similar – hundreds graduating, thousands attending, prestigious speakers, interminable list of names called, the pomp and circumstance of it all. Ben’s main graduation ceremony was no different, but because he was in an honors program, we were treated to a few more festivities.

But first: getting there.

Ben and his SO Kirsten live in Loveland, CO. They have a darling little house with a garden and a guest room and 2 precious dogs. She drives north to Fort Collins where she works as an architect, and he drives south to Boulder for school.

Our family lives…everywhere. Graduation was to begin on Thursday. Travel started on Sunday.

SUNDAY:

My parents headed out in their SUV from Peachtree City, Georgia

MONDAY:

I left my sweetheart in Austin, Texas to travel to Eugene, Oregon, where #4 has been.

TUESDAY:

#2 and his SO left Salida, Colorado heading for Loveland. Amy and I made it from Eugene to Salt Lake City. Parents made it to Loveland.

WEDNESDAY:

Jesse, Anna Leigh, and Aden left Murfreesboro to fly to Denver to rent a car to drive to Loveland. Amy and I made it to Loveland. #3 and her SO left Las Vegas at 5am, right after she got off work at the casino, flew through Salt Lake City to Denver to Loveland.

We have a couple of folks yet to arrive, but off we go to dinner.

The man of the moment and his very loving, very patient, very supportive girlfriend

Thursday morning brought the first of the official ceremonies:

Ben’s Honors Thesis was entitled: A Dangerous Conflation of Ideologies: The Nexus of Christianity and Neoliberalism. I know, everyone’s dying to read it, but he wants to get it peer-reviewed and published, so he’s not quite making it public yet. You can trust his mother – it’s brilliant. His plan is to go to law school (University of Washington?) after a year off for LSAT study and travel.

Then the obligatory cheese and fruit reception

Thursday night was our cooking extravaganza, and I don’t have many pictures of that because I was…cooking. What a feast we had! Everyone pitched in – all of us in the kitchen at once, cooking, mixing drinks, dancing, and I know it will surprise everyone, but we are a little loud when we are all together, so I remember a lot of shouting.

Late Thursday night brought in Amy’s squeeze, Alex, from Eugene, Oregon, after a little tense pass travel experience going through Salt Lake City. Then Friday was the big show!

Next was a reception for his department, with a quick stop in the bookstore on the way

We grabbed this moment for the group shot:

This one I call My Honeys with Their Honeys

And whattyaknow, we have time for a quick drink before the final event of the day!

Then, the last event – his graduation with his Political Science Department

BBQ and friends, my honey got in late, food and drink for everyone (and a little storytelling…), and then back together again for breakfast before everyone had to hit the road for that traveling in reverse.

Ben, we are profoundly proud of you. Not only did you get it done, you got it done magnificently!

Thanks for reading!

May 17, 2014 2

Vaughn and Lucy

I loved Edwin Kagin.

Edwin died on March 27. I loved him. I loved his big, fat, beautiful, juicy brain, I loved his irreverent, dry, southern sense of humor, and I loved his unrelenting compassion, desire for justice, and concern for children.

Edwin was the legal director for American Atheists from 2006 until his death. He and his wife Helen were the originators of Camp Quest, a secular summer camp for children. It had grown from a brilliant idea in 1996, to overnight and week-long camps located in many states, and UK and Switzerland. Camp Quest offers children the summer camp experience including educational activities that promote critical thinking, ethics, scientific inquiry, and philosophy. Edwin was the brilliant legal mind behind many civil rights and religious freedom lawsuits over the years, but I believe it was Camp Quest of which he was most proud.

I met Edwin in Des Moines at the American Atheist convention and was captivated by his charm. He was lovely and encouraging to me as a first-year law student. Edwin could be funny and serious and blasphemous, all in one sentence. He was the quintessential cantankerous and curmudgeonly crank whose eyes twinkled behind his glasses under the brim of his leather hat.

Edwin was also an author and blogger. Here is a post he wrote about the death of his lovely wife Helen. Not long after I met Edwin, he sent me a copy of his book Baubles of Blasphemy. I rationed the readings of his writings because they usually had a profound effect on me as a new freethinker just coming out of the daze of religion, and I needed the extra moments to digest the profundity. We corresponded through email and even in this cold, impersonal digital format, his warm, witty personality peeked through.

Edwin and I saw one another at various freethinkers conventions, and always stole a moment or two to catch up. He never failed to ask me about law school and how I was doing and what my plans were. I saw him last in Austin, Texas, and was looking forward to seeing him again in Salt Lake City in April. Edwin died on March 27.

But my sweet Edwin left behind not only a legacy of epic proportions in the way of Camp Quest, but also his two canine loves, Vaughn and Lucy. Edwin’s family put out the word that these two honeys needed a home, and they needed to stay together, if possible. It took me about 10 seconds of reflection before I knew I wanted to provide a home for these babies.

So I introduce to you: Vaughn and Lucy.

We’re getting to know one another. When they learn to trust me, I plan to solicit any legal genius that Edwin shared with them, but I can be patient. Right now we’re working on positioning in my office while I’m studying, and smelling everything that can be smelled on a farm.

What a delight these two furries are.

And what a joy and an honor and a privilege to have known this man.

Thanks for reading.

Before you return to wherever you were before you were born, it might be a good idea to so live that people remember you fondly. This is not a dress rehearsal. Life ends / Tao flows.
Don’t take life too seriously; you won’t get out of it alive anyway.

Edwin Kagin

April 6, 2014 3

Days # I-have-no-idea

I’m going to try to sort this out. I swear I blogged the day before yesterday, but so much happens, I’m not completely sure.

When we last left our lovely posse, we had arrived in Salida and reunioned with our boys. On day 2 in Salida, we started with, what else: breakfast, including copious amounts of coffee and talk.

This is River's Edge, our breakfast place all 3 mornings. We sat on this big comfy, sunny couch and talked politics, adventure, money, love, family, and kayaking. — This is River’s Edge, our breakfast place all 3 mornings. We sat on this big comfy, sunny couch and talked politics, adventure, money, love, family, and kayaking.

This day included time on the river with River:

a picnic in the park

watching the boys in the playhole (gotta love that river rat term)

and viewing from the Boathouse.

Ben's beautiful girlfriend Kirsten and beautiful sister Amy — Kirsten and Amy

Tuesday morning brought sad goodbyes as we all headed off in different directions:

Ben and Kirsten headed back with their canines to Loveland for school and work. El and Glenda headed to Denver to go back to Murfreesboro and Knoxville. Sam went back to work as an Arkansas River Ranger. Amy and I headed west and north to get Amy ultimately to Orcas Island off the coast of Washington State.

So we now pick up mine and Amy’s adventure through the Black Canyon of the Gunnison.

Best-kept secret in the world of National Parks.

One of these cliffs is over 2200 feet high (taller than the Empire State Building).

Did I mention this park is off the beaten path?

As in any canyon, the ubiquitous Balancing Rock.

Rolled into Grand Junction, Colorado, to a charming little hotel and Italian restaurant. I will go as far as Salt Lake City with Amy tomorrow (via Dinosaur National Monument), and send her off the rest of the way on her own.

Hooooooge shoutout to my house and dogsitters Katie and Elliot. And cow/donkey/chicken sitters. You two rock!

One more day of adventure, then back to Employment Discrimination and Legal Research.

Thanks for reading!

May 29, 2013 0

Tour de Boro!

What a beautiful day for a bike ride!

Today was the Tour de Boro (although honestly it was more of a Tour de Christiana), a leisurely spring ride through the rolling hills of Rutherford County, benefitting the organization Special Kids, a nonprofit organization that provides therapeutic rehabilitation and professional nursing services to children with special needs. It’s also a great way to kick off the spring riding season!

Because of a weather front that moved in last night, it was a bit dodgy getting up at 6:00 to 39 degrees. But get up I did, and off to Barfield Park I went, bike on rack, coffee in hand, ready to get my ride on.

Within minutes of arriving and checking in, I heard my name called, and looked around and saw my friend Allison.

Alison has been a friend and a client for 5 or 6 years. We chatted a minute and decided to ride together, as it seemed like we would ride at about the same pace. We had the most delightful time riding and talking. I’d like to share a bit of what she shared with me.

Alison is a veteran and has recently become involved with Ride2Recovery, an organization established to help injured veterans overcome obstacles they face, through the sport of cycling. Alison has done a ride to NYC, the California coast, and the Gulf coast. She shared some stories about some of the folks she has ridden with. R2R provides and modifies bicycles for any manner of disability, and through donations and outside funding, there is no cost to the veteran. Non-veterans are invited and encouraged to attend the structured rides offered around the country throughout the year, although there’s a fee associated with that.

She said the exertion, the camaraderie, the accomplishment are all helping her to process her overseas active duty experiences. Specifically she said it helped her see that all of us, with our strengths and weaknesses, are all beautifully imperfect, and that each person’s life is of their own making. My friend Alison has since spent a month or so in New Zealand, taking in the sights of that spectacular country. It’s also led her to sell her home and work toward accomplishing a personal dream of owning her business.

I hope you’ll visit the website and consider whether this fits into your charitable giving. We don’t always get to see how our contributions work, but today, for a few lovely spring hours, I got to see just that.

Thanks for reading!

April 20, 2013 2

Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

Traveling, training, thinking, talking, typing

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Good fences and all that

RfR Fall Excursion 2019

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Vaughn and Lucy

Days # I-have-no-idea

Tour de Boro!

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