Picture perfect work space

   Like my work station today? Jealous? Wish your work station looked like this? I thought it looked like something out of a magazine, so I took a picture. It was everything I envisioned my perfect work space to look like.  A cup of tea, a snack, comfy couch and a lap top. I even have a window with a view and a small feathered companion (not pictured here). Sounds better and better. I gotta stop reading magazines.

   Remember that old saying "The grass is greener on the other side of the fence?" That's because someone spray painted the grass. Folks do that you know. I saw it on one of those home shows where they are fixing up a house to sell it. Boy am I glad I am not in the market to buy a house.

   While the picture may look great, it doesn't tell the whole story. It left out the part about the tea being cold. I had to leave my work space to switch laundry and other tasks. By the time I returned, the tea had gone cold. I wanted hot tea. And that lovely snack is my lunch. I was going to heat up leftovers, but then became so engrossed in what I was doing I never got around to it. So crackers and cookie butter it is. Not to mention the fact that I am avoiding the kitchen right now as I spent the last three days reorganizing and purging the cabinets. All of them. I never do something half way. I needed a break from the kitchen, even if it meant sacrificing my lunch.

   The bird not pictured has been busy throwing seeds outside her cage to tidy up the place. That is my feathered companion. She started this after I put her in her cage and closed the doors to keep her from picking at the paint on the window sill. She had been picking at the paint to get even with me for shooing her off my laptop where she found it entertaining to hit the delete button while I was trying to type. I believe she is calling me unpleasant names in parakeet language.

   Hidden behind the couch is the yoga mat and stretchy bands for the exercise I had intended to do this week. Along with a lot of other stuff, like yarn for a crochet project and misc art supplies. I am very grateful that I don't have a couch with legs. They may be trend right now to help people make their spaces seem more open and airy, but then I would have no place to store the stuff I have back there. I can't put it behind the entertainment center, the masonite for my daughter's tap dancing is stored there. And no, my daughter doesn't take tap dance classes.

   You also might notice that I am not seated at this work station. A crucial part of getting work done is the person doing the work. Not much of a work station if the worker is absent. Where was I? Before I took the picture, I was taking care of other stuff that had to get done. My brain was on hold and no matter how inviting my space might look, it was not providing any inspiration that leads to productivity, so I abandoned it to accomplish other tasks in the hope of jump starting my brain.

   Also not pictured are co-workers. Someone with whom to collaborate and toss ideas around. I have my feathered companion, but as I mentioned before, she is currently calling me names and throwing seeds on the floor. The floor that I vacuumed this morning, I might add.

   And the part of this work station that doesn't show the most is the lack of a pay check. I am diligent with my work (even if you cannot see me pictured), but at this time it provides no income. This is a definite downside, and one that should not be overlooked when considering this option for a work space.

  Rest assured, later today my work station won't look this picture perfect. It will most likely have someone's dirty socks on it, not to mention the crumbs from my cracker and cookie butter lunch. Chances are, I will have abandoned the space and fled to another part of the house with my laptop to reduce interruptions.

   So don't be jealous of my work station. A picture is a transitional moment in time. It doesn't always tell the true or complete story. Green grass is grown by spreading around a lot of manure. You probably won't see that pictured in a magazine.

How to tell if you are going downhill.

   I love to ride my bike. I am not into racing nor am I a back trails kinda gal. You won't find some fancy and expensive bike in my garage. I don't even own bike shorts. But I do have a helmet, some worn out bike gloves and love to pedal. So I was thrilled when we had the chance on our recent vacation to take our bikes out for a spin on The Tunnel Hill State bike trail in southern Illinois. It is one of those wonderful Rails to Trails projects that have cropped up everywhere, offering some of the coolest scenery and nicest trails to be found on foot or bike.

   The day was mild and sunny. We had a great breakfast and were all pumped up and full of energy.  Armed with plenty of water and our helmets and bike gloves, we joyfully embarked on our adventure along the shaded gravel trail. Quickly we were rewarded. Looming before us was the Tunnel, built in 1929. Laughing, we zipped on in and sped on our way making train noises. About half way through the tunnel I thought that it might have been a good idea to have bike lights or a flashlight. It was kinda dark, even if you could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

View approaching the tunnel

   Undaunted, we whirred on through and into the cool air of the narrow canyon that lay just beyond the tunnel. Faster and faster we went, riding our bikes in high gear, feeling the wind in our faces and soaking in the sights. We crossed a towering rail bridge with dizzying views. We passed

Trestle bridge

rock cliffs with trailing vines. There were smaller bridges crossing creeks with water dancing merrily along. We saw beautiful flowers, quiet deer and colorful lizards. There was plenty of shade and the trail was well tended. Being in the middle of the week, we passed very few people. Being out in the countryside, we encountered only one cross road. The rest was just exhilarating, unbroken bike trail.

   I felt just like that woman in the commercial on TV, riding her bike, face wreathed in smiles with her dark hair streaming out behind her in the breeze. Except that I have short brown hair and wear a helmet. Well, just imagine my short brown hair flapping about under my helmet. Same thing. I was wearing a goofy smile and pedaling easily in the highest set of gears.

   Something that a person should keep in mind: If you are pedaling easily in high gear and enjoying the wind tousling your hair, you are probably going downhill.

   It may not LOOK like downhill. The grade might be so slight that the trail LOOKS level. But let me assure you, you are going downhill. And that means after about 5 or so miles when you decide that as a family you are ready to return to your vehicle and go have lunch (this was, after all, just a short bike trip), you will have to pedal uphill all the way back to your vehicle. The entire 5 miles. And slight, unnoticeable grade though it may be, it is still uphill. All the way.

  At first, maintaining the high gear seemed okay, but after awhile, lower gears were a bit easier. Perhaps essential is a better word.

   I have to admit, there seemed to be more sunny spots than I remembered. Perhaps it was because I was now going at a slower pace. Also, there was not as much wind trying to tousle my sweaty, short brown hair under my helmet. Which was too bad, cause I seemed to have developed an itch right on the top of my head.

On the home stretch!

   I did not remember crossing quite so many bridges. I think I developed bridge butt. Or maybe it was the onset of saddle sores. Bike seats are called saddles for a reason, right? For the life of me, I
could not remember what that stupid woman in the commercial was trying to sell. Nor could I remember the fantastic railway bridge being so far away from the cool canyon that lead up to the tunnel. But after much gear shifting, I finally found myself plodding along toward the tunnel with the light at the other end. Such a welcome sight, that meant the truck was not much further. We had nearly reached our destination!

   Then, as I started through the tunnel, I remembered that I had thought earlier it would have been a good idea to have a bike light, or a flashlight. Since we embarked on our journey, there had been little opportunity to obtain either. This was a bike trail, located in the countryside, after all. There were descriptions of the canyon walls and the deer and stuff earlier, remember? No stores. There had been a house along the way that advertised water and soda, but since we carried our own water, there had been no need to stop.

   About half-way through the tunnel, I could not see walls or ground or ceiling, just the light at the other end, which is quite disorientating, and I began to weave a little. Was it this dark when I passed the other way? Thank heavens there is no other traffic in the tunnel for me to weave into, but now I began to worry and wobble a little more. What if I hit a rock and go careening off my bike or crash into the wall right in the middle. I would then have to walk like Igor to get out of the tunnel. (I have always commented that I walk like Frankenstein due to a drop foot, but I believe my gait is actually more like Igor the assistant.) Since we were only going on a short bike ride and not a walk, I left my walk aid back at the camper. If I crashed, I would have to grope about in the darkness and hope I stumbled across my bike so that I could drag it out of the tunnel. I had a brief vision of me, step drag, step drag, step drag, pulling the mangled remains of my beloved bike behind my bloody and fatigued body.

   Fortunately there was no incident or accident as I approached the light at the end of the tunnel! The floor and walls and ceiling of the tunnel materialized once more and I was back on the well maintained (if not exactly level) gravel trail, slowly moving along (I had long since given up enthusiastic pedaling) the home stretch to our vehicle.

   My daughter and I celebrated our trip by dismounting our bikes onto rubber band legs that no longer seemed to work properly and walked our bikes to the tailgate where we waited for my husband to load them in the back. As we cooled in the air-conditioned comfort of the truck, I asked her if she enjoyed the trip, despite the uphill journey back. She nodded with a bright smile on her face.

It was worth it! But next time I will have a bike headlight.  

I need a Sign!

   I have always said that signs are important. A sign can tell us many things, like where we are and where we are going. Signs are simple maps to help guide and direct people. They can tell us things we want to know, introduce us to new ideas and concepts, sell us on products, and steer us in one direction or another. I love signs, much like I love clear and simple directions when putting together new furniture. After all, what are directions than a series of signs to accomplish a task. Leave out one picture of instruction and you no longer have a couch, you have a set of cushions artfully arranged on the floor.

   And I can tell you I hate places that don't have signs. Nothing like visiting a church on vacation, having to answer the call of nature in the middle of mass, and not knowing where to go. Not as if there were a lot of people I could ask directions during the service. Instead I was forced to wander up and down the corridors in search of the facilities. I found them, but only because someone had left the door open. There was not sign indicating what was behind that wooden door. And yep, I was getting desperate enough to start opening doors and start looking in. Wouldn't that have been embarrassing? And for those of you who ask why I did not go beforehand, I did try before we left for church. Thought I was good. Life just works that way sometimes! Don't ask questions if you don't want to know the answers!

   But with signs, you must use caution as the messenger is as important as the message.

   GPS, for instance, is little more than a complex electronic series of signs to guide you from one location to another destination. One misstep and you may arrive at a destination that you were not anticipating. Request directions from your current location to the state park and find yourself frustrated when you arrive at a remote trail head at one corner of the park, not even close to the main entrance where most visitors would go. Seriously? Not willing to give up so easily, we gave navigation a second chance and decided to find the Lake of Egypt Rec Area. Twenty minutes later, we found ourselves in a subdivision. There was the lake all right, but we did not think that the residents really wanted us trooping through their yards to enjoy the view. Especially since they had a sign for no parking and another that stated resident use only!

   Having come to the conclusion that this messenger was leading us astray, we fell back on the old fashioned methods, maps and road signs. Map did show Lake of Egypt. There was a road noted as Recreational Road, which we took to be a “good sign”. After beginning our drive, we came across one of those brown road signs that read LAKE OF EGYPT 7M with an arrow. Okay, this we could do. So we turned and followed the rolling, winding road for 7 miles. At the end of 7 miles, we found ourselves at a T intersection on the edge of some town. There was one of those little brown signs that read LAKE OF EGYPT 7M, with the arrow pointing back the way from which we had just come. Ummmmm. We consulted the map. We were definitely not at Recreation Road. After several minutes riding in circles around town and a short squabble, we decided that Lake of Egypt was not hidden somewhere between the houses in town and to try and retrace our steps, returning down the road which we had come.

Kid showing lack of sign

   So we were cruising along, looking carefully for Recreation Road, and about 3 miles along our way, I sighted what had once been a sign. Only the posts were left sticking out of a rock base. Off in the brush was another of those little brown signs with an arrow that read LAKE OF EGYPT 2M with an arrow pointing down the unidentified road. There was no brown sign from the direction we had originally taken (I checked) and the actual road sign – well that was not at the corner of the intersection. You know, where the average person would look for it. It was set well back from the intersection. Just past the trees. Perhaps to direct the wildlife.

   I am thinking that either they thought visitors had ESP or they really did not want any. Later learned that the National Forestry used to have a campground there, but had closed it. No surprise to me, not like anyone could have found it without hiring a local guide. I am guessing that visitors went for the easier option of staying at campgrounds that could be found by clear signage. Of course, it is possible that the campground and the sign disappeared at the same time. Still, we didn't encounter many folks taking advantage of the Recreational Area.

   Perhaps one of my most recent favorite signs is one I saw on-line:

HUNTERS

PLEASE USE CAUTION

WHEN HUNTING

PEDESTRIANS

USING

WALK TRAILS

   If you still doubt the importance of signage, ask yourself why are there so many billboards along the highway on the way to the airport.