How we avoid tick bites

Tick season has started, and we have adopted several preventive measures so that we can enjoy our yard and garden without worrying about Lyme disease.

The standard advice about ticks is to avoid high grass and leaf litter, wear light-colored clothes with sleeves, and to check skin regularly for these pests – to do “tick checks.” On one such check recently, Betsy found a poppy seed-size tick on her chest and removed it. My sister has had Lyme disease multiple times, and a friend contracted a nasty disease called Babesiosis (which has nothing to do with babes) from a tick, so we wanted to go further.

The first thing we did was to designate certain clothes, including shoes, as tick-deterrent clothing. We chose a calm morning and hung up these clothes on a line. We put on gloves and protected our eyes, nose and mouth and sprayed the clothes with Permethrin, which we bought at Eastern Mountain Sports in Hadley.

Permethrin is a powerful chemical that you don’t want on your skin or in your lungs, as it is toxic and an endocrine disrupter. But it’s effective. A 2020 study of outdoor workers in Massachusetts and Rhode Island found that those with Permethrin-saturated clothes got only a third of the tick bites (over two years) as those wearing typical clothes. It also keeps mosquitoes away.

Permethrin remains effective even after you wash your clothes. We’ll probably do another spraying in the fall. You can buy clothing that’s pretreated with Permethrin if you don’t want to spray it yourself. You still need to use an insect repellent on any exposed skin.

If you don’t want ticks in your yard to begin with, another good use of Permethrin involves the use of spent cylindrical toilet paper rolls, something most people can easily accumulate. We chose another calm morning and created eight tick tubes.

We spread out some newspapers and sprayed about 40 cotton balls with Permethrin. We let them dry for a day, then put four or five of the balls into each toilet paper tube. We then put the tick tubes around the yard.

We get some help from mice, and maybe from chipmunks, who share our yard with us. They go into the tubes and take out the cotton balls, bringing them back to their nests for bedding. The Permethrin gets into the mice’s fur, and when ticks bite them, they die. Some claim that this technique reduces the tick population by 90 percent.

Lyme disease is notoriously difficult for doctors to diagnose, and unlike mosquito bites, you can’t feel it when a tick latches on to you. So prevention is the best strategy.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

‘Within us and between us is everything we need’: Why I find Carrie Newcomer so moving

When I listen to a Carrie Newcomer song, I often sense a shiver in my spine and sometimes feel tears coming to my eyes. And I’ve learned that when that happens, it’s important to pay attention.

Newcomer somehow expresses just what I’m thinking and feeling, and I haven’t felt this way about a singer/songwriter since the Beatles and Joni Mitchell. She encourages us to look deeper, to see beauty and mystery in nature and in ordinary people. Her emotional openness and vulnerability are deeply affecting.

Here’s a video of her singing “Bare to the Bone” on Krista Tippett’s show “On Being,” with a refrain of “What we do in love and kindness is all we’ll ever leave behind.” Tippett says that Newcomer’s songs confront “the raw and redemptive edges of human reality.”

Barbara Kingsolver calls Carrie Newcomer “a minister of a wide-eyed gospel of hope and grace.” Her songs are “attuned to the still, small voice of the soul that’s so often muffled by the noise of the world,” says spirituality writer Parker Palmer. The Boston Globe calls her a “prairie mystic.”

Newcomer is 64 and lives in her native Indiana. She’s a Quaker and many of her songs deal with spiritual topics, but in a musical style that’s familiar to many of us. There’s a little rock, a touch of jazz, some country and occasional gospel.

Newcomer has said that most Christian contemporary music gives you just eight crayons to paint with. “I’m more of a 48-crayon gal, theologically,” she said. One of her songs was part of every Lenten service this year at First Congregational Church in Amherst, and I gave a talk on her music at a Leverett church in January.

Here’s a video of Newcomer singing about her many-crayoned faith in “I Believe.” One of the things she believes is that “when I close my eyes to sleep at night, it’s good to say ‘Amen.’”

“She can make you dance one moment, laugh the next, and then take you to a deeply moving, even prayerful place, as she touches on regret, loss or grief and the wonder of being alive,” says Palmer, a frequent collaborator on her lyrics and a podcast called “The Growing Edge.”

Especially relevant to my search for peace and serenity is Newcomer’s insistence that we already have all the resources that we need for dealing with adversity. “Within us and between us is everything we need,” she sings. In “Three Feet or So,” she sings, “I can’t change the whole world, but I can change the world I know, what’s within three feet or so.” In “I Believe,” she sings, “I know that I get scared sometimes, but all I need is here.”

Many of Newcomer’s songs express deep truths in just a few words: “If I start by being kind, love usually follows right behind”; “I am everything I’ve found and I am everything I’ve lost; I am all that I’ve been given and I’m everything it cost”; and “This forest has a different sense of time than yours or mine.” I’m particularly fond of this one: “I’m not lost, I’m only wandering; I’m not adrift, I’m just at sea; I’m not sure, I’m only guessing.”

“We have enormous power to create positive change in the world in how we choose to live our daily lives,” she has written.

Many songs convey a sense of wonder in everyday experiences, as she finds holiness everywhere. Here’s a video of her singing “Geodes,” the first song of hers that got my attention. When I heard the line, “All these things that we call familiar are just miracles clothed in the commonplace,” I knew I had discovered someone who spoke to me.

Did I mention that Newcomer can be funny as well as deep? Here’s a video of her singing “Don’t Push Send,” which is “a very sad tale of intrigue, romance and electronic mail.” Or playful? Check out “My Dog,” and the line “I’m trying to be the person that my dog thinks I am.”

Carrie Newcomer’s songs frequently use original, imperfect rhymes (such as “Today is now, tomorrow beckons; keep practicing resurrection”). Many have curiosity-provoking titles, such as “Learning to Sit Without Knowing,” “Throwing Rocks at the Moon,” and “Impossible – Until It’s Not.”

Her songs “Room at the Table” and “If Not Now” have social justice resonances. “You Can Do This Hard Thing” was inspired by Kingsolver, a friend who wrote the liner notes to one of her albums. “A Gathering of Spirits” can be heard at pub sings.

Newcomer is not shy about admitting, even befriending, the mistakes she has made. She believes that mistakes are inevitable when we live straight from the heart, but also that there can be healing in relationships, in compassion, and in community.

“I have spent a lifetime trying to describe in language those things we experience that have no words,” she’s written. A good example of this quest is “I Do Not Know Its Name,” It’s a song about the ineffable and it gives me a tingle every time I hear it.

With her 2019 album “The Point of Arrival,” I see Carrie Newcomer coming to a place of peace and centeredness. In “Writing a Better Story,” she sings, “I’m ending where another story starts, at the edges I can grow, even when they’re razor-sharp.” The title cut concludes with this: “Looking down at my hands, finally I understand. The empty space has changed somehow. And it’s filled with Hallelujah now.”

Some of the songs on her latest album, “Until Now,” address the Covid pandemic. It opens with, “Here in the great unraveling, so much of this is baffling, when breathing feels like gambling.”

But she also sees the potential for redemption in scary times, singing, “We can’t just be healed; we must be transformed when the sky goes dark and the wolf is at the door.” And this: “When the old world ends, a new world starts. What finally comes together first had to fall apart.” Her penchant for optimism is heard in “I Will Sing a New Song.”

“Like Molly Brown” honors female heroes, not just the survivor of the Titanic but also Rosa Parks, Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Lucretia Mott.

Since the Beatles and Joni Mitchell, I’ve been influenced by the songs of Gordon Lightfoot, Elvis Costello, Phil Ochs, Fred Small, Leonard Cohen, Enya and Gregory Norbet. But none of them have touched me in the way that Carrie Newcomer has.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Seeking serenity, avoiding politics

Our town will hold an important referendum on Tuesday. Unlike many previous political debates, I have not been involved with this one.

I will vote, of course. But there have been no opinion columns from me, and no canvassing, no meetings, no lawn signs. After many decades of immersion in local politics, I have opted out.

I still follow the issues in the newspaper, like any good citizen, and occasionally talk about them with friends. But I have felt a need to get away from the conflict that’s common in local politics and live a more peaceful life. And after over 40 years of involvement, it was past time for me to get off the stage.

Instead, I’m concentrating on my volunteer activities, getting enough sleep and exercise, spending time with friends and family, and working on our mini-homestead. With more yesterdays than tomorrows, I’m concentrating on taking care of myself.

Serving on Amherst’s Charter Commission in 2016-17 was a departure from what I was used to doing at public meetings.

I was the editor of our community’s weekly newspaper for 19 years and dealt with political issues on a daily basis. For 13 years afterwards, I wrote articles for the local papers, mostly about political issues. When I retired 10 years ago, I swore that I was done with local politics, and wanted to focus on other things.

But four years later, I joined a campaign to change our town’s form of government. At public meetings, it felt a little strange to be an elected official actively participating, rather than a reporter looking on. The campaign was successful, but the public scrutiny, the late-night meetings, and occasional vitriol took a toll on my sense of serenity.

Once again, I said I was done, but Betsy rolled her eyes. And sure enough, I created two blogs (in addition to this one) about local politics with two different partners. Now, I feel confident that this latest exit will be the last one.

I feel satisfied with my re-retirement from local politics. I’m reading more books, volunteering three times a week at the Amherst Survival Center and at a free-meal site, and going to bed at 8:30. I enjoy household chores such as cooking, dishwashing, food shopping and vacuuming. Yesterday I planted carrot seeds in our garden.

For 25 years, I have also gotten pleasure from splitting and stacking firewood and keeping our stove going for five months of the year. Now that we have solar panels on our roofs that provide us with electricity, we are planning to get a heat pump for heating and cooling. That change will probably diminish our woodstove’s role, but it will be good for my 73-year-old back.

I like to play hymns on the piano after dinner.

I’m involved with three local churches. In addition to Sunday services, I participate in a men’s group at one church and, at another, a group raising questions about traditional religious practices. I enjoy banging out hymns on our piano.

This is a time of life for delving into new areas, and reviving activities that have been neglected. For me, this includes listening to birds and trying to identify them, plus playing chess on my tablet and strumming my guitar. I was a meditator when I met Betsy 45 years ago, and I’m trying to resume this daily practice.

And I’m regularly expressing gratitude, for having Betsy in my life, for my house, my sons, my friends, my health, my privilege, my career, my retirement, my financial security. I recently sent appreciative e-mails to two people who, long ago, were influential in my newspaper career.

Beyond these activities, I’m just trying to be a better person, a better spouse, a better father, a better brother. I’m focusing on being kind to all people, forgiving myself and others for our wayward ways, and saying no to negativity.

Local politics too often includes negativity. It’s been hard for me to find the serenity I seek in simple living when contentious discussions about local politics arouse swirling emotions in me. I feel liberated – and calmer – putting all that in the past.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Living Without, Reconsidered

Nine years ago, I wrote 10 posts on this blog about 10 modern conveniences that I was content to live without.

These posts demonstrated our practice of simplicity, living comfortably on a low income, and maintaining a low carbon footprint. Call me a Luddite, an extremist or just plain eccentric, but there are so many books to read, experiences to share, people to see and nature to enjoy that I do not feel deprived by narrowing my focus. I’m trying to live my life in accordance with my beliefs.

Nine years later, I am still living without most of these modern conveniences. I’ve added two others, as detailed below. Also below is a reconsideration of a post from nine years ago called “10 Things I Couldn’t Do Without.”

Here are the 10 things I was living without, and where I stand now. To read the original posts, which provide much more detail, enter “Living Without” on the search feature of this blog.

1. Mobile phone. I remain among the 10 to 15 percent of people worldwide who don’t own one. I’ve been content to rely on a landline, tablet and desktop computer. I don’t use Twitter or Instagram, but do use Facebook, very selectively. I may get a simple phone for emergencies.
2. Dishwasher. I like doing dishes by hand, and do this chore every day around noon. I don’t think it takes a lot more time than using a dishwasher, and it uses less energy because I turn off the hot water after rinsing every dish. I like listening to music while washing dishes.
3. Cable TV. A few years ago we bundled cable TV with our phone and Internet service. I have enjoyed watching baseball and MSNBC, though I find I’m watching less than I used to, and there are so many other options for watching things on screens.Will we unbundle? Stay tuned.
4. Subscriptions. I got some grief nine years ago for getting around the pay wall of the newspaper where I worked for 32 years. Now we pay for a Gazette digital subscription, along with the New York Times and Washington Post. I also subscribe to BritBox, but no other streaming services or paper magazines.
5. Second car. Just before the pandemic, we traded in our car for a plug-in hybrid Prius that goes 25 miles on a charge. We’ve driven it only 20,000 miles. We now can get around the area without spewing fumes, powering our car with solar panels. And we can still take it on trips, using its gas engine. When going downtown, a mile away, I usually walk or bicycle.
6. Air travel. Some say this has the biggest impact on one’s carbon footprint. I have not been on an airplane in almost 30 years, and Betsy has stayed on the ground for 45 years. To paraphrase Thoreau, I have traveled a good deal – in Amherst. I don’t miss travel; I like staying put and feeling grounded.
7. New clothes. I still get most of my clothes from church fairs and the Salvation Army. I did buy new walking shoes recently – for $35 – from the clearance shelf of a discount store.After wearing coats and ties to school from 4^th to 12^th grade, and now being retired, I like dressing informally.
8. AC/CD. I’m still living without air conditioning (mostly) and a clothes dryer. We are considering getting an electric heat pump for heating and cooling, replacing our oil furnace. We now have a mini-split in our bedroom that provides a cool space on hot days. We own a dryer but never use it, instead hanging laundry outside or above the woodstove.
9. Factory farms. We are largely vegetarian, but have sometimes bought meat from a local farm. Lately Betsy has also bought “Never Any” sausage and chicken, from animals not fed antibiotics or growth hormones.
10. Debt. We’re still living in the house we bought in 1984 and we paid off our mortgage long ago. Absence of debt is key when you are trying to live comfortably on a low income.

Here are two new things I feel content to live without:

Restaurants. I like cooking, and I like knowing what I’m eating, especially since I have multiple food sensitivities. Avoiding restaurants saves a lot of money.

Alcohol. I wish I could drink occasionally, but I accept that I can’t. I’m not in AA; it’s just that beer makes me feel bloated and liquor gives me a buzz but also a headache.

Me with my gradddaughter watching a puppet show last summer.

“10 Things I Couldn’t Do Without”

I still value eight of the 10 things I wrote about nine years ago. Here’s the list: Ping Pong (I still love it but rarely play) British TV, Gardening, Crosswords, Running (had to give it up; I’m a bicyclist and walker now); Reading, Friends, My Home, Health, Betsy & Family (now expanded to include a daughter-in-law and granddaughter).

These practices contribute to what I see as a good life, freed from the desire to accumulate material possessions and seek exotic leisure activities. I’m still learning what it means to live a good life.

For new readers of this blog, here’s an index of more than 150 past posts, divided into categories such as simple living, cooking, gardening, living without and climate change. Or hover on Index above to read all the posts in a particular category.

Reaching across the divide

Do you ever wonder about people who voted for Donald Trump? Has the country become so polarized that we can’t imagine what motivates people whose life experiences and attitudes are different?

On Saturday morning, I attended an extraordinary event in Leverett, a small town six miles north of where I live. Eleven people who live in Letcher County in eastern Kentucky were visiting for three days as part of a cultural exchange. The goal  was for Leverett people and Kentucky people to listen to each other and break down stereotypes they’d formed of each other.

The two places couldn’t be more different. While 79.8 percent of Letcher County voted for Trump, only 14.4 percent did in Leverett. Forty percent of children in Letcher County live in poverty, and 34 percent of residents smoke cigarettes. Leverett, a rural but wealthy town where most people commute to jobs elsewhere, is host to Buddhist, Sikh, and Quaker houses of worship, as well as Christian ones. Life expectancy in Letcher County is more than eight years lower.

“I can see better by the light in your eyes,” sang local recording artist Sarah Pirtle with two Kentucky women to open the program. They sang a song Pirtle wrote called “Hands Across the Hills,” the name of the exchange program.

Leverett resident Paula Green, who has brought together disparate groups for dialogue all over the world, praised the visitors for “the bravery it took to come here.” The goal of the weekend is to “discover each others’ cares and joys and build on our common dreams.”

She explained that after the election, many Leverett residents sought a way to respond that would be from the heart rather than from anger and frustration. They discovered Letcher County through a Connecticut-raised community organizer who has lived there for two years and wrote an article on salon.com called “Building Democracy in Trump Country.”

Green, who founded the Karuna Center for Peacebuilding, said she wants to “move from demonization to humanization” and encourage other groups to accept a similar challenge. She encouraged the hundreds of local residents who came to the presentation to be curious and friendly with the Kentucky visitors, and not try to convince or change them.

The visitors introduced themselves. Letha Dollarhyde said her stereotype of New Englanders as cool and distant was totally shattered. Valerie Horn said that although Letcher County is poor, there is a program for free food at a farmers’ market. Teenager Alyssa Helton said that in Letcher County “everyone knows everyone,” and showed slides of a mountain, a waterfall, a lake and the school where she learned to play the fiddle.

They were asked about climate change and coal, which is Letcher County’s only industry. Tyler Ward responded that he and his neighbors are not averse to science, but many people are concerned more with daily existence and coal companies are among the few employers.

There were presentations about Leverett’s history and how it is now populated by longtime families, aging hippies and cosmopolitan professionals. The Leverett Community Chorus sang songs to celebrate folkways of Appalachia and New England, and there was a potluck lunch. A contradance was scheduled for the evening.

I was deeply moved by the event, even though I didn’t get a chance to talk to any of the Kentucky visitors. It made me think about how useful it would be to seek reconciliation with those I disagree with in my own town. Since the election, I have tried to understand the rural mindset better by reading books like “Hillbilly Elegy” and “Strangers in Their Own Land,” and this event helped me realize our common humanity.

It reminded me of my friendship with the head police detective in the town where I live, who I got to know through my newspaper work. He and I couldn’t be more different culturally, but we bonded over a common interest in baseball trivia. As our conversations got deeper, I came to realize that he wasn’t quite as conservative as I thought, and he realized that I wasn’t quite as liberal as he thought.

I think we could all benefit from listening to people who are different from us, and looking for common ground.

For new readers of this blog, here’s a quick way to access more than 150 past posts, separated into categories such as simplicity, frugality, living without, cooking, gardening and climate change. Or hover on “Index” above to read all the posts in a particular category.